I was planning to blog tonight about my fabulous evening alone in Banff. I wanted to try and explain the emotion I felt playing guitar on tunnel mountian with the sun setting in front of me , and the giddy feeling I always get walking into Welch's candy shop, or the satisfying luxury that is Fondu. But plans change.
I walked into my back door after a soothing drive back listening to Radiohead at 12 midnight to recieve a call on my cell phone (which i left at home during my short trip). It was a friend, with an akward tone in her voice asking proding questions. Questions that challenged my integrity and made me look foolish.
My time in Banff was meant for me and God, and it was. I felt more like i had it all together tonight than i have in a long time. But then this call? why cant i escape this sick feeling in my stomach? When am i finally going to be able to love who i am?
I cried last night like a child. More than i think ive cried in my entire life. For the first time, i understand how people feel when they want nothing else but the silence of death.
Fuck this life. Fuck this sin filled society with all its temptations. I want out so badly it hurts.