Fragility

Little to no lie, my body and mind seem to be involved in a huge conflict right now, this is of civil war proportions and no less. Inevitable considering Josh was with us in spirit last night, it's impossible not to punish your liver when horrific party bangers of the kind that only we know how to destroy come on the stereo. Ossified is a very good word and i intend to live by it. Regardless of this, i'm feeling well, despite the absence of snow and compulsory shaving for my new job (i feel like a cross between a foetus and a puppy without stubble) i'm gradually becoming less and less of a hater, due to various reasons, mountain air & escapism? or maybe the fact that my own expectations upon coming here have been nothing less than met.

To be honest i could've stayed in England in the pursuit of distancing myself from comfort zones and seeking out company in like minded people, but it's a stressful task, and in most social climates i'm not the kind of guy who wants to feel like a tagalong in pre existing groups. The world goes on spinning regardless of how much of an impression we could potentially make, and i guess i wanted to come out here to to be able to realise any of this within my own little bubble, without the pressure of adapting my creative output to suit other peoples pre existing ideas of what's appropriate or interesting. I expected nothing more than a mild sense of contentment here, the best kind of solitude amongst company, that may not seem to make much sense but i can be within my own mind 90% of the time here with noone to answer to, no law to abide by other than that of my pen to paper or notes on a sheet of music. Expecting little of people here is both a blessing and curse, while my idealistic elitist streak will not change over night, i know that the people i meet here are merely all strangers passing through a new place, which makes it easier to talk about whatever i want without worrying about forging any sort of longer lasting connection than over the period between snowfall and thaw. One thing i like/dislike about Whistler, is that it seems to have no true cultural sense of it's own, more an amalgamation of the thousands upon thousands of varying minded creatures who pass through its fairytale environment over the year. You can exist as yourself, there's nothing else to adapt yourself towards, and whether i change for better or worse on return(something that surely will be noticed by everyone but me), it will be solely influenced by whatever my minds doing out here, not via the influence of looking up to others and the way they live their lives.

That's not to say i don't miss being mentally challenged, and there are certainly a great amount of people who aren't just into saying "awesome" a lot, surprisingly one person who me and Will met on our first day in Vancouver has turned out to be someone i'd consider myself most on a level with, there are surely a great many options on how to spend my time here, and having the option of flitting between mindless social vampire tourist and thinking mans conversationalist is a very attractive one. It's like going out to a new place every night, faces tend to be familiar only in shop window glances and supermarket aisles.

I've rambled like a bitch here, but words are the greatest release i know, be it non sensical stream of conciousness or lengthily composed prose. So, today we walked to a big lake, shouted at dogs and moustachioed business men, then i sat in the library reading about this years best inventions(VERY GOOD).

Here's to George and escapism.

“The mind can make a heaven out of hell or a hell out of heaven”
John Milton 1608-1674