There's so much that is different now. I'm sinking into this new city. I'm settling into this new lifestyle.
Today I started a new job. I'm delivering for a local brewery here in Toronto, Amsterdam. So if you're ever in the city enjoying some Amsterdam on tap, thank me. Mail me a cheque maybe? Just for fun? I will also accept joints as thanks.
Anyways, it's a pretty decent job. Better than my previous one. Very physical work. I'm enjoying physical work these days though.
It seems like maybe this summer I won't be able to do all that much besides work, unfortunately. I think I may attempt to travel somewhere in the fall..I'll try and recruit a friend or two and get away somewhere on a little roadtrip. Oh, how I love roadtrips. On the brightside, once I am experienced enough I'll be able to go outside the city on some delivery runs. Peterborough is one destination I'm told we have.
Anyways, such domestic nonsense. No one cares about my work. I wish I had some interesting philosophical things to say. Perhaps I could expel some theories. Illuminate some new plane of thought. Instead all I can think about is driving around Toronto in a van delivering beer.
I actually am working with an old friend of mine at my one job. He's from Ingersoll. Small world. So I've been over there and spent some time hanging out with him, and another old friend of mine that he lives with. At their place - in the common room - they have these old typewriters. I've decided that I love typewriters. I've decided that I'm buying one. The physical act of pressing each key and the mechanical response that it creates makes it much easier to write. To form thoughts. I'm able to write paragraph after paragraph with them. Beginning soon I'm going to start hunting for one. I'll search every obscure shop in this town until I find one.
And then pages of nonsense will finally have an outlet through which they can pour out of my mind.
Music:
The White Birch
