On the ferry back to Vancouver, a place I tried to call home once. All day today, I’ve been thinking about Pender Island and how I live in the Pacific North West again. How when I left, I thought I would never come back. How when I was gone, all I could think about was my friends. And now I have Pender Island growing inside me like mint. I have friends around me and summer is coming. Plans are being made. And today, I’m headed for a city that begged me to stay to crash a punk house and make memories between its poster-painted stained and dirty walls. Reconnect with some old friends, make some new ones, reconcile difference and life-crush hard. And One of my best pals is gone (and gave me his room ), I won’t get to see him (but it’s ok dude, you saved my life once). Going to the city makes me nervous, so I did my laundry, but it’s so hot out, it’s not gonna smell clean for long. I can’t help but wonder, is this what I’ve been looking for the last few years? Bring it on, 5 day weekend. I’m gonna kick your ass. Like I care, every week is the weekend if you take a running start.


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