dont tell em

Don’t, just don’t, tell ’em you’re going. Even if you tell ’em you’re going in three weeks, or you’re going when you feel like it. Because once they have linked the concepts “going” and “[your name]” in their whirling, preoccupied minds, you are going to hear, over and over again, these comments:

  1. Are you still here? I thought you left town!
  2. When are you going?

After a while you won’t enjoy it.

goals and means

This is one of those things that, if you get it, you get it. But i have only one objective on this little trip: To get away from the coast for at least two months. Not that Ucluelet is a terrible place to be, but a small town at the end of a long road tends to limit one’s perspective after several years. I hear there’s a world out there, and i aim to reconnect with it.

I have (and this is the part people are having trouble with) no fixed departure date, no agenda, no plan, no destination beyond visiting my mother in Winnipeg and my sister in Montreal. Apart from that, everything is open.

For the record:

  • last day of having a fixed address: 31 October, 2007
  • last day of work at the Westerly News: 18 April, 2008.
  • last morning in Ucluelet: 25 May, 2008.

I am homeless, jobless, and dependent on the kindness of friends and strangers, and the benevolence of the world at large — not a comfortable position for me. But i’m not without purpose; more on that later.