Yesterday was Josh’s birthday. We spent the day doing all kinds of manly things, in manly pubs, and manly pool halls, before going out to a dance club and losing ourselves in the smoke and strobes.

He’s been having a hard time of things, as of late. His relationship with his father seems to be deteriorating, and life in general has been weighing heavily on him. I wish him all the best, and hope that he finds the peace that I cannot.


In the shower, I found myself slowly turning up the hot water. Not all at once, but over the course of the shower.

I just kept turning it up, and up, and up, until I noticed that my skin was pink, and steam was rising.

It didn’t hurt, but it seemed vaguely creepy, so I stepped out of the shower, and went on with my day.


Venk told me yesterday that he hasn’t felt lighthearted, or carefree since the days when we were living together, visiting the Dutch consulate, and booking plane tickets to Amsterdam. We were happy, we had no worries, no concerns, nothing that we couldn’t do. The world was ours to take, the stars shone only to please us.

And now we’re being politely requested by an insurance company to pay back ten thousand dollars that we don’t have, he’s being evicted due to the sale of the house he rents, and I’m still here, still living with Jessica’s family, with no foreseeable way for us both to get back to Toronto, let alone be able to support ourselves there, and live once more with Venk.

I don’t know. Not in the least.

I need something.


So yes, peace. Something to quiet the chaos in my soul.

It seems to me that the situation as it is now is a recipe for disaster, a road map on how exactly to fuck yourself real good.

Things need to change. In every area, in all possible way. Things need to change, lest I find myself trapped here again.