Monday, August 06, 2007

 

From the Editor`s Desk: I`m back and more in tune with my inability to cope.

Well, Here I am.

Ben, you`ve inspired me to at least delve into the pit of forgotten hope and prosperity that Lancier was and remember my password for this ol' blasted landscape.

Naturally, I have news.

For those of you caught unawares in the last 3 or so months, I`ve moved thrice, planned much, and prepared little. I`m moving out west, and Alberta looks promising.

Fort McMurray to be exact. With tensions building as to when jobs and travel arrangements will be specified, I naturally curl up into my ball of tensions and dive headlong into a precisely calculated ruse of good nature.

Things are as they should be. With my parents in London, I don`t talk to them often, but certainly when I can. Unfortunately, with things being how they are, and my hours being as good as they are (and I do consider a plethora of hours a good thing) I am unable to see them in the flesh less often than I am able to speak to them. The ratio is about 2:1 for talking.

I have attempted to research (through both the internet and first hand experience) what life will be like and how exactly I can manage to both fill my coffers and have a good time, and right now my promises vary with each session.

I`m scared kids. I don`t know what to do....yeah..piss on that. I`m not really scared at all. This hellhole of stratford provides so little for me now I`d rather be in Alaska than here. At least I`d be closer to Russia...things happen there.

I suppose this is the age old case of restlessness at home. Having no grounding here, I've been forced to move from friend to friend and impose, and I'm seeing nothing for it. That bothers me so much, I`m not sure what truly noble end this serves..perhaps none at all. The simple explanation would be simply to move home, go to school, get a job, life insurance and a decent automobile.

But is that the Blake we all know and love? Probably in about seven or eight years, yes. But not now!!

So, I rented a season of the Henry Rollins Show tonight and sat down for some good laughs and some provocative, politically biased discussion, sparing no veg-out expense. Chips, Pop and a small mound of pillows were also invitees.

Perhaps this little jeremiad has bored you, I expect no pity and take no prisoners. Given Henry Rollins' immense build and truculence, I fear for the use of my legs if I don`t get back to it.

I`ll talk atchall when that train comes in.

peace and love and shit,

Bizz.

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