What I Want to Do.

I was driving around today in my mother's car and I thought to myself,

'Fuck. This is nice.'

It was nice to not be in a car that shakes violently when you come to a full stop. It was nice to be out doing something and not be so full of stress that your brain feels like it will explode along with your shaking vehicle. It was nice to do something that was pointless and rather carefree.

I felt liberated.

I like the Niagara Region. I never thought that I would want to stay here, but now that I've left it I find it hard to not want to come back to it. While driving today I thought,

'maybe I could keep a part time job in Fort Erie, take the bus home on the weekends and just be happy in that small block of time.'

And that sincerely made me happy until I realised that my bus fees would be extraodinary. So I crushed that idea and calmly decided that the familiarity of the Wal Mart in Scarborough would have to suffice.

During the orientation yesterday, the Co-ordinator of the program expressed that there were many empoloyers from the area that would be looking for employee's at the end of the year. I'm hoping that I could talk to him about finding an employer in the Niagara area because I already know I want to come back.
It's difficult for me to come to terms with these thoughts and I feel overwhelmingly guilty for it.

It's weird to be in a place and to know that you don't belong there. I see all my stuff in the condo and it doesn't feel like my stuff anymore. It just feels like crap. I suppose you realise how little you need when you're moving constantly. I suppose you realise how much of a burden material possessions are when the only purpose they serve is to be a burden.

I saw him today.
I didn't expect to, but situations haven risen that need to be taken care of and so I saw him. I couldn't look him in the eye, or rather, I didn't want to look at his eyes.
There's this bizarre desperation in me that is pulling at all of my strings. Its awful. I have to restrain myself from calling him, have to restrain myself from thinking about him. His picture is sitting in my sketchbook and I get mad when I go to look at it. I feel creepy. I feel obsessed. I feel like a complete and utter lunatic.
And it's funny, 'cause I know that if I did ever have him, we'd hate eachother.

How did it ever get so bad?

I talked to Paul today about situations with Derek.
That I feel guilty about. What a mess. What type of person are you if you rat out your friends for acting like idiots? The discomfort that is pulsing through me is becoming more than a little unbearable.
I'm scared of Derek, scared of what he'll do if he finds out that I was the one who wrote the letter. I'm scared of what he'll say, or who he'll hurt. I'm scared of him 'cause he's a pyscho and I know he has no quams pushing the buttons on my board that will hurt me the most.
Paul says that he doesn't like his employees being threatened. I say, I'll live with it as long as he doesn't actually do anything about it. He says that, that mentality is foolish and that I shouldn't have to be bullied. I say, I'll never have to see him again and am quite happy to leave him thinking good thoughts of me rather than bad.
And the worst part about posting this is that I'm taking a massive leap of faith in posting this on my blog. Who's to say Josh won't run and tell Derek all of this? Who's to say that he won't give him my blog address? Its all a bit dodgy, and I'm a complete tool for posting this because the chances of it getting back to Derek are extraodinary.

There are so many things that I haven't posted about because of Josh. So many things that I wanted to put down to sort out, but couldn't, because of Josh. I'm sick of not being able to express myself because of Josh.

And so I've just decided to be fucked with.