Anonyme a demandé: apple or pipe

pipe while eating the apple

You know how when you’re under the influence, you can say and do some pretty stupid things. I made a huge mistake yesterday night that I’m not proud of. I’m not sure how I’m going to live through today. The morning after is always for reflecting and for repenting our sins.

I swear this is the first time in my entire life that this has happened. I’m so ashamed and embarrassed. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore.

Writing “it’s” when it should have been “its”.

Grammatical error. What in the world was I thinking?!

Apparently being intoxicated makes people more creative.

So this is me typing while I’m high.

Four yellow flowers in a Jones bottle stand before me; three chrysanthemum and one daffodil. It was cream soda, just for the record.

To the right, a less refreshing can of Arizone takes it’s stance.

This is tough.

I can’t stop staring at the yellow flowers. They’re all I can think of. They’re all I want to write about. At this very moment, I’m in love with the four flowers. I feel guilty because I like the daffodil the least out of all of them. It doesn’t have enough personality.

It’s bedtime. That’s all I wanted to say.

What does one do during the last week of being a teenager?

Anonyme a demandé: will you be my valentine?

Where are my chocolates?

I am the definition of a workaholic.

When I didn’t have classes, I would be either working or volunteering. Being the little spender that I am, all the money I earned was set aside, untouched. My dad regularly asked if I needed money and even offered to pay me whatever my current job was paying to stay at home and study. I live in a big house with my parents.

Yet, I found myself giving up all my available hours for a job that was irrelevant to what I wanted in life and that paid me way too little. Along with my time, I gave up friends, family, holidays, food, sleep, grades, and the life of a normal 19 year old. I found myself yearning for drunken nights and pushed myself to go out even when I had class at 8am the next morning. It was a vicious cycle that left me exhausted and craving for a smoke. I don’t even smoke cigarettes.

So I took a little risk. Saturday was my last day of work.

On Sunday morning, I went to a track and put on my running spikes for the first time in almost 2 years. The running was foreign to my aching muscles and I could almost hear the rusty chains and gears in my body scream. I was light-headed from the cold air, my racing heartbeat, and probably the two puffs from my inhaler. But my God was it liberating.

I feel that in life, we are often stuck in a comfortable place and we’re unwilling to move. We make excuses: I need to study, I have no money, I’m tired, I’ll do it tomorrow. The few hundred meters that I ran may have been nothing compared to marathon runners, but I could mentally feel myself being closer to exactly where I wanted to be.

I could only scold myself for not running towards things that actually mattered in life, and what actually made me happy. My dad’s “I told you so” rings through my head every single day. It was an uncomfortable start, but just knowing what I’m going to accomplish is enough to keep me moving. So now, here I am, spending just as many hours as I did with work, but for doing things that I’m passionate about.

Today I will be speaking with one of the researchers of animal welfare, and training wth the UBC varsity track team for the very first time. Oh and all that money I’ve saved up? Guess who’s going to China this summer?