Better than the feeling you get when you dig a spoon into pristine Jello
I always knew there would come a day when it would all just stop. An almost undetectable
click of realization. It was as if a storm was raging one moment and a sea of calm appeared the next, like a divine hand passing over my twisting, writhing black-hearted soul telling me to just
be still.
That day was yesterday.
How strange that it sneaks up on you just like that. I almost don't know what to do with myself and all this free headspace. My burden isn't simply unloaded onto some poor companion, it's gone.
Fettered no longer, footloose and fancy free am I!
All in time for a huge year. Can't hardly wait.
"Alright, blood me up"
On Wednesday I got to participate in an emergency training exercise with SERT, CCPS, London EMS and London police, as well as the Tactical Squad, which is probably the London equivalent to the SWAT team.
The scenario was a mass shooting in a residence building, with SERT members as both casualties and responders.
I won't go into too much detail here as I feel like it has to be said in person to do it justice, really, but click on the
link if you want to see me as a gunshot victim being carried out of the building.
This is the kind of thing I signed on for...it was a pretty cool thing to be a part of and observe. :D
"First rule of the weekend: don't get lost in the woods. Second rule: no pictures."
Oh dear. Writing for the masses after such a long neglect, where do I begin? Details of my life can be acquired by the usual, most direct method: calling me up, so let's say you go right ahead and do that, and we can get some overpriced coffee and loiter in someone else's air-conditioned facilities if you want to prattle back and forth for hours, or quadruple shots of tequila if you want the run-down fast and dirty with possibly a few obscenities thrown in. We can subsequently do something utterly distasteful to celebrate our black-hearted moments.
In short, however, life is pretty much as fan-fucking-tastic as it gets. The prospects of the upcoming year are overwhelming as usual, but in the most exciting, deliciously busy way possible. In the past four months I have come to more fully appreciate the friends that I have, the family that loves me, and learned about the stubborn things in life that just never seem to die, no matter how hard you try to smother, stomp on, or tear them into little pieces and let them blow away into the wind. I haven't decided whether or not I like that last thing or if I thumb my nose at it, but if it's going to keep hanging around like that stupid Umbrella song, then I will tolerate it at the very least, until I get used to the idea.
In long, I'd rather not announce on the internets, as I am developing an aversion to creepable means of communication. I try to no longer post on Facebook any pictures that show where I've been or what I've done, write details of my life on people's walls beyond superficial chatter...I'm no criminal, but let's just say I'm not altogether too keen on the idea of little birds knowing exactly what I've been up to. Let's keep up the illusion of mystery here, shall we?
You will still find shameless promotion of Sophie's photographs as we make more of them, so stay tuned.
I am reachable and meetable by the usual ways, but only for a little while longer before I am back at school. Reach me.
And, while you're here, and if you're familiar with the SuicideGirls...you might be interested in
this lawsuit they are filing against one of their photographers, Philip Warner, also known as Lithium Picnic. You might not want to click that link if you're reading this at work.
