I am about to be thirty years old, and due to this I am naturally reflecting upon my life (I reckon that this is why I’ve been feeling bit nostalgic.) Becoming thirty is a curious feeling, almost like crossing the border between Canada and the United States; you know that you are entering a different area but really little changes. The language is the same, many customs are the same, and individually, many of the people are the same. Thirty is the same! It’s like crossing that invisible boundary only to reach the other side and see that things are fundamentally the same. The differences are all in the mind; you approach the United States expecting all the stereotypes to be true, so true in fact that many succeed in identifying every single one of them, eh.
So, I’m thirty, over the hill, and what the hell have I done with my life? Perhaps I need to do little soul searching, go on some great quest to vast territories, but in search of what? Myself? No, I don’t believe that is the case. My coming to Europe had elements of a journey but it wasn’t to find myself, it was to find information about my roots and ancestors. Who were these people? What did they do here? Why did they leave? I had already applied these criterions to my life before leaving and analysed them to great extents. I haven’t shared the findings with anyone in Canada because I cut all ties. I am writing them down here for the first and last time because when one cuts a piece of string the end usually frills out, it’s best to tie the end (or burn) it to avoid the frilling.
Who is Mick? You should be able to answer this, after your claims of knowing me well. Who I am (rather, who I was) can basically be defined by the actions of Mick. At some points in time I recognise that I was complete loser for many reasons, but regardless of the fact I was able to realize these misgivings and decide and implement change. The Mick you knew so well was a friend to all through thick and thin, knowledgeable but unsure and inexperienced. Selfish, when it came to sharing with some (mainly with Miles) but generous to all others. I think this prompted many to ask favours from me on regular basis, and these favours evolved to expectations of regular hand outs. I became aware and really upset with myself when I realised that to a large extent my friends were my friends because I was usually willing to dish out what I had for the common good; or always splitting the goods in such a way to favour individual needs even after bad deals. And when I began to not dish out I was repaid with angst. I won’t go into details, let the past remain dead and buried (RIP.) But to summarise the situation, I found myself surrounded by people who shared in the same vices as me, I don’t think any of us would have created friendships with each other if it hadn’t been for these vices. At the time I’m sure we all felt what we did was in the right, perhaps not just but justifiable. And to begin to point fingers at each other would only have lead to more finger pointing, until a score was hit, then accusations could break out to due to mishandlings in distribution. I felt that the good times were followed by bad times, followed by good times followed worse times. I saw it as a vicious cycle, of which I wanted no part of and I made preparations to leave; to go to a place where I wouldn’t be reminded Who I Was. A place where the bad was followed by the end of that book and the beginning of another.
Now I am here and not there. I have new friends, not many but mind you but these people are around me because we share common interests, good times and in one case we share our love. I feel good about myself, I left behind that which I disliked and obtained what I wanted, and my eventual move to Asia represents my endless curiosity. An opportunity to see and live and share unimaginable things with the one I love and means the world to me. You contacting me presents a small paradox to me, because I too can claim to know you well, but really I knew you well. And just like Archdale, Slocombe, Oates and myself you obviously left behind things which you didn’t like and replaced them with those you do like to become a new Glasgow, in other words you too have moved on to become someone I knew well. But to be honest I can’t say whether I’ll make he effort to continue to know you (I’m already thinking that it took to fucking long to write this fucking thing.) I will say this, should I plan on dropping by TO within the next couple of years, I’ll drop you a line.
Till then,
So, I’m thirty, over the hill, and what the hell have I done with my life? Perhaps I need to do little soul searching, go on some great quest to vast territories, but in search of what? Myself? No, I don’t believe that is the case. My coming to Europe had elements of a journey but it wasn’t to find myself, it was to find information about my roots and ancestors. Who were these people? What did they do here? Why did they leave? I had already applied these criterions to my life before leaving and analysed them to great extents. I haven’t shared the findings with anyone in Canada because I cut all ties. I am writing them down here for the first and last time because when one cuts a piece of string the end usually frills out, it’s best to tie the end (or burn) it to avoid the frilling.
Who is Mick? You should be able to answer this, after your claims of knowing me well. Who I am (rather, who I was) can basically be defined by the actions of Mick. At some points in time I recognise that I was complete loser for many reasons, but regardless of the fact I was able to realize these misgivings and decide and implement change. The Mick you knew so well was a friend to all through thick and thin, knowledgeable but unsure and inexperienced. Selfish, when it came to sharing with some (mainly with Miles) but generous to all others. I think this prompted many to ask favours from me on regular basis, and these favours evolved to expectations of regular hand outs. I became aware and really upset with myself when I realised that to a large extent my friends were my friends because I was usually willing to dish out what I had for the common good; or always splitting the goods in such a way to favour individual needs even after bad deals. And when I began to not dish out I was repaid with angst. I won’t go into details, let the past remain dead and buried (RIP.) But to summarise the situation, I found myself surrounded by people who shared in the same vices as me, I don’t think any of us would have created friendships with each other if it hadn’t been for these vices. At the time I’m sure we all felt what we did was in the right, perhaps not just but justifiable. And to begin to point fingers at each other would only have lead to more finger pointing, until a score was hit, then accusations could break out to due to mishandlings in distribution. I felt that the good times were followed by bad times, followed by good times followed worse times. I saw it as a vicious cycle, of which I wanted no part of and I made preparations to leave; to go to a place where I wouldn’t be reminded Who I Was. A place where the bad was followed by the end of that book and the beginning of another.
Now I am here and not there. I have new friends, not many but mind you but these people are around me because we share common interests, good times and in one case we share our love. I feel good about myself, I left behind that which I disliked and obtained what I wanted, and my eventual move to Asia represents my endless curiosity. An opportunity to see and live and share unimaginable things with the one I love and means the world to me. You contacting me presents a small paradox to me, because I too can claim to know you well, but really I knew you well. And just like Archdale, Slocombe, Oates and myself you obviously left behind things which you didn’t like and replaced them with those you do like to become a new Glasgow, in other words you too have moved on to become someone I knew well. But to be honest I can’t say whether I’ll make he effort to continue to know you (I’m already thinking that it took to fucking long to write this fucking thing.) I will say this, should I plan on dropping by TO within the next couple of years, I’ll drop you a line.
Till then,
