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I was flipping through my (non-live)journal randomly. I've been depressed as of late looking for work, unsure of what I should be doing or even what I'm capable of doing. I found this entry, and I thought, even though it's contents are dated, it might be a nice thing to post here. So, here is my journal entry from this past christmas eve:

Wo willst du hin?

Life is pretty good. I have great friends. It's christmas day for Gabriel in China already, and he is homesick. That makes me sad, but there is also greatness and beauty to everything.

There are arms that stretch across continents and oceans to hold me through a computer screen. There is a voice that echoes laughter through my headphones, and colours the font displayed. There are thoughts that interwine us while we sleep.

I dreamt that I smelled of hay and farms, and was thus forbidden to take a shower. Illogical, but I didn't care. There was a whisper in my ear that I reminded someone of home.

Amy and Max are "aux Bermudes." Christmas in the sun (possibly the rain, I didn't check the weather). Sherrie is back in Newfoundland now. "Call me!" she said, and signed off before I could say "I don't know your number!" I laughed. I'll get it from Janine. Sarah just emailed me, and Dana has recorded Ewan McGregor's motocycle trip around the world for me.

Next year I'll be living in Ottawa, as long as Gabe doesn't change is mind again...which I doubt, because I can read his tone even when typing.

I get soft-smiles and "thank you"s now, instead of sarcasm and obnoxiousness. I am loved ten-times over, and I would really be a fool to ask for more.

3:27 p.m. - 2005-12-24
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