Back From The Dead

I'm fairly certain that no one reads this anymore -seeing as I've displayed some extreme disregard for its upkeep and maintanence- but alas, this show will go on.

I was accepted to the Creative Writing program at Concordia University and will be finishing the last two years of my degree in Montreal. This has been my goal for a long time now, and being accepted after the arduous process of portfolios and letters of intent requirements is very validating. I realized, while waiting for my letter of acceptance or rejection to arrive, just how important academic recognition is to me. There's really only a brief window of time in which you can be a student, just a student, without the pressures and expectations of knowing what you're supposed to do with yourself. It's a horrible thing to be outside this window when you still haven't figured it all out.

Time and potential and destinations have been consuming me lately, perhaps the people around me too; maybe all of us.

For quite a while after I submitted my creative writing portfolio I didn't feel like writing. I tried not to ruminate too excessively on that fact, but it deffinately gnawed at my conscious thoughts each day. I felt that maybe I wasn't the writer I thought I was, that perhaps I liked the allure of the title, the intellectual and artistic approval that seemed to accompany the persona. However, yesterday I finished a great book and wrote a couple pages. I wrote about things that had happened in the word-less interim, and understood that I had in fact been writing down all these thoughts, just not on my computer or a piece of paper. I didn't rea-ccept or re-establish myself as a "writer" yesterday, but I understood something equally important.

Sometimes you have to be okay with, accept the fact that you may be the only person that believes what you're doing is real or right. It's great having other people affirm their mutual agreement or support, but there are times when you will be the only one on your team, and I'm okay with that.