Perhaps what with the change of routine afforded me by having “finished” school, I need a different theme to blog about. Perhaps I just need to write, and write about anything. As it was drilled into me in the aforementioned school, there’s only so much of a project you can get done in your head. You need to get it down and working in order to see how it’s actually going to turn out – an imagined photograph isn’t going to get you into the National Gallery.

Today, I spent out in the sun. This is rare. There was swimming and lounging and barbecuing and other summery whatnots.  Time spent with some of my closer, newer friends.

It’s strange. I’ve lost and formed groups of friends… three times in my life. Once after the move from Marathon, once after high school, once after my aborted career at U of T. I guess some people have friends, old friends they’ve known their whole life – but the combined substantial move at age 13, and the marginally non-standard trajectory my life has taken has put more strain on my friendships than they could bear. Distance, and changing… stations? in life are hard things to work against. Some have weathered these stresses well, and these are people I’m sure are in my life for good, but most have just sort of fizzled and died.

Of course, after having done things before, patterns emerge, and you begin to notice things in other people, in yourself, that likely passed by unnoticed the first time. (or, in my notoriously unself-observant self, first few times) It’s… convenient. I always have stories to tell, more and more, it seems. You will have to forgive me if you’ve heard them before.

I swear I thought I had more to say on the topic, some sort of arc. Perhaps this post could have used some revisions. Perhaps it will get some. More likely I’ll just pat myself (softly, it’s sunburnt) on the back for having posted something and move on down the line, tomorrow. Or in September.

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