sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust

"i'm interested in applying for the job," i said, motioning to the sign outside the restaurant that said they were hiring.

"do you have your cv?"

i gave it to him. he looked at it.

"you have no experience."

"i know, but i'm a fast learner."

he wrote 'no experience' at the top of my resume.

"we're looking for someone with experience, but we'll see if something comes up."

when do you think is a good time to go back and convince him to give me something to do, give me some money? tuesday, or wednesday? or thursday?

okay, so maybe i didn't even know what the restaurant was called, maybe i had to look it up, but who cares, i am smarter than most people and this man should pay me to take people's orders. maybe this is a dumb summer job in between american eagle and getting paid to write this shit, but who cares, the future is bright.

in 5 years i want to make you wish you knew me right now.

There is Nothing As Lucky, As Easy, Or Free (blindsided)

vii.

I never really dreamed of heaven much, till we put him her in the ground.

viii.

At first it's easy to pretend it isn't there; that loneliness, that empty space somewhere in your life. First you pretend you're crying because you were the only kid in grade 3 who forgot to bring scissors and glue to school on arts and crafts day. You sit in an empty classroom with a teacher who had big, black curly hair. She loved The Beatles, just like your aunt, and she asks you if you need to see the counsellor, and in a moment of weakness you say yes. Then you get over it, and when it's time for your meeting you feel upset at being interrupted while you were cutting paper with your friends, colouring things, making fake houses. But you go anyway, and pretend you don't know what it's about. And you lie, because you want to go back to safety. You want to go back to denial.

It was easy to ignore life, actual physical life, breath, the act of breathing and moving and smelling, touching, thinking, feeling. It was only when I realized she was dead that I realized I was alive. Suddenly life -- the concept of being alive -- was different.

ix.

I never thought about it for years. It, I never thought about It. You know, that event. I didn't make the connection between the scissors and the glue, and the event I had truly forgotten at home.

My dad said it was okay to cry but I didn't because my cousins were nearby, and I didn't want to cry in front of them. I wanted to pretend like I didn't care, because maybe I didn't. Maybe it was easier that way. I wanted to go home and be alone in my room. I became used to that feeling.

Maybe we all did.

x.

There's nothing left but fuzzy memories and an excuse I keep and use when it's convenient. Instead of pretending that it didn't happen, I make it all that has ever happened to me. So when something hurts, when you hurt me, I pretend it's not you, it's not you, it was this thing that happened to me a hundred years ago. When I feel like you're leaving I pretend that it hurts because I was left so long ago and not because I simply just want you to stay.

xi.

At first I missed the body; then I missed the mind; then I missed the concept. I'm stuck on the idea that my childhood could have been different, that the rest of my life might have been different. Now there's one less thing to return home to. I can feel my memories of being a kid disintegrating; I mean really, sometimes I wonder if the first 13 years of my life were real, if I ever lived in a different house than I do now, was there always someone other than Tina around? Did I belong to a family of two at one point? I don't think so, no, it just wasn't real at all.

No, no, and life is just so fragile, and maybe we spend all our years trying to reach the point we reached when we came out of the womb, so delicate and malleable, but we can't go back, no, no we can't go back, we just go forward and hope we'll reach "second childhood and mere oblivion, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything". Maybe we should take the broken pieces and turn it into something new, and we build our own events, because whether we have a purpose or not is irrelevant; we are just going, I mean, we are moving, and life will move you whether you are ready to move or not, so I mean, just don't sit there among the brokenness, take the pieces of your life and make a house or something, make a bicycle, make a friend, I don't know what, just fucking do it, go on, do it, go go go.

xii.

Move, like today never happened, today never happened before.

We Are Dawson: Dream Big (Day 30)

I'm pretty sure the people this is written for are not going to read this, but then again I'm not really sure who I'm writing this for.

Montreal, I'm starting to like you. East Coast, you're showing me a better side. Maybe it was Washington, it must've been Washington, it must've been the spring weather, the buildings and streets which were so concrete and so cold but so refreshing. Maybe it's the Montreal night life, maybe it's someone I met, maybe it's Dawson, maybe it's mememe, or the weather, or the start of something new. Montreal, I'm starting to appreciate you [unintentional rhyme].

I think I love and hate that I didn't play the final game of the tournament. I think the people that need to read this are not going to read it, then again I'm not sure who those people are. I think I managed to hold it all together, I know I cheered a lot, I know I was positive, I know that it tore me up inside. When Rougeau sat next to me and said that This was it, we need a big shift from you, Choo, come on, I nodded and didn't say anything cause I knew there was no next shift for me. And she went on and she came back and I was still sitting there, the same place I sat all game.

I guess I should've seen it coming, right, not like I didn't work hard or played badly, no, this is what I signed up for, being a rookie and all. This is what I agreed to and I knew it, I'm surprised it came so late in the year and I wish it had been any other game and I wish so many things about this but it's over now. We won. I did my part, the best that I could, 'cause it's no use crying, and I won my own battle by overcoming that. I fought my own battle on our own side and I won in my own way.

And it's not a question of deserving or punishment, no, there are people who deserved it more than I did at other times than these. There are times when I should've been benched and I wasn't. Those things don't matter, it's a small step on a larger scale. I know that I am one of many, or one of a privileged group, and this was not a defeat on my part but a victory for all of us.

Only one person has said something to me about it, and I appreciate it more than anything. The tournament was a challenge, for us as a team and for each of us as individuals. It's nice that mine was acknowledge, if only by one person. It means something because others have failed in my position. So, thank you, you know who you are. And I don't think you'll read this, but at least this time I know who this is for.

Montreal, I'm happy to be back. It felt like a long time, five days. I know I'll want to leave again soon, but for now, for now.. you're alright, Montreal.

"Here is where loveliness can live with failure, and nothing's complete.
I love how we go on."
-Stephen Dunn "Loves"