This morning's coffee marked the start of a slow, cascading death. At this moment I have 9 days and when I get back - confirmed suspicions tell me that my life as I know it will be gone. Dwight and I have reached a point where the phrase "to each his own" rings more than true.
When you're a kid, you think your parents are nearly immortal. They're superheros, saviors and they do no wrong. As we get older, this theory is quickly dismantled. Not many people realize this but high school was the most figuratively violent time in my life. I was depressed, deprived, hormonally imbalanced. Whatever you want to call it - everyone goes through that in their own way. We realize our parents have flaws and sometimes we feel like we're living with strangers.
Then, when we begin to find ourselves - we realize that our parents still have some finding to do too. Parents are there to take what they never had (literal or emotionally) and try their damned best to give you that. They teach you the lessons which they've stored from childhood like rusty keys and they do what they can to fit the definition of a "good parent". Except, no one's perfect. They're going to make mistakes - they're going to make the wrong decision and no matter what. You are going to be fine. I mean, I believe in tabula rasa to some extent but once you reach a certain point in your life...the baby bird's got to learn to fly somehow.
Everyone carries resentment and regret, if you don't I'm confused as to how you've been living your life. Except, you learn the most important lessons through the shitty stuff that happens to you. Take away from this what you will, but adversity always rewards with a bigger piece of the pie. Change helps you grow. Complacency stifles and kills. To quote the film Waking Life (this has really stuck with me):
The worst mistake that you can make is to think you're alive when really you're asleep in life's waiting room.
So to hell with complacency! I want to be poor. I want to be dirty. I want to live with a backpack and a good pair of shoes. I don't want a house. I don't want a regular job. I don't want a home. What's a home anyways? Security? To hell with security! The only currency I want is what I can fit in my mind. I know that whatever happens I will be able to fulfill my five basic needs with hard work and a little faith. It's funny how you will always be okay as long as you never give up and give in to the uncertainty of life. Someday I will be tired and these wants will change but for right now, it's all okay.
By the time I get back, 316 Lake Street will probably no longer be home to the gang, my house or Dwight's workplace. By the time I get back, I might not have a singular home. By the time I get back, I have no idea where the hell I'm going to be or what I'm going to do. I for sure teared up when I heard this. Although, I occasionally resent being in Vernon - I love my friends and things have been looking up lately. I feel like this change may be before it's time. But I know that it's not. What ever happens will happen or fail to and whoever is supposed to be in my life will find their way there or not.
I love my father despite his perpetual enigma of being. He needs a fresh start. Selling the house might be the best thing to happen to the both of us. I don't want to speak too confidently about this all actually happening, but selling the house will give us both freedom. Freedom from memories and financial obligation. Honestly, that is the only thing I want. If I am able to pay off my student loans in one fell swoop... everybody watch out.
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