I Went Back West

It's five in the morning in Vancouver. While most of my neighbours are up watching the hockey game I woke up at four in the morning for no reason at all.  My insomniac ways are still sticking to me like the East Coast snow.

I left the icy streets of Toronto and flew West.  I didn't expect to be back in my home city so soon.  I might have been avoiding it.  When you go to places that hold all your memories it's a test of how far you've come.

But I see now that I've come a long way.  I feel good and I'm blown away by the beauty of this city.  I can't take eyes off of the mountains and the ocean.  I forgot how good the water smells and the nostalgia it holds.  Every sight and smell is like a warm hand on my forehead.  I could be good here.

I can see myself here for a while before the restlessness kicks in.  Before I crave waking up at four in the morning in another city.  For now I'm going to get drunk on the memories and work on making some new ones.



“I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. And I am horribly limited.”

― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath


...and hey, congrats on the win this morning Canada