Hello Stranger,

Hello Stranger, I'm talking to you. [obrabet-artwork.tumblr.com]

Reblogged from flamencodreams


You know whats fucking scary? The fact that I could literally change my life at any moment. I could stop talking to everyone that makes me unhappy. I could kiss whoever i want. I could shave my head or get on a plane or take my own life. Nothing is stopping me. The entire world is in my hands, and I have no idea what to do with it.

This is the best and most terrifying realization one can come to. 

(Source: jamesbabeshaw)

Kick ass; take names. The start of a more body positive, mental positive, Toronto positive existence starts now! This little muscle represents my beginner’s journey to feeling good and dominating the hell outta’ my life.

Kick ass; take names. The start of a more body positive, mental positive, Toronto positive existence starts now! This little muscle represents my beginner’s journey to feeling good and dominating the hell outta’ my life.

I want a house.

I want a house in the mountains or out in the wilderness. I want it to be surrounded by moss covered trees and old stones and tall grass. I want to be able to hear a creek. I want to have a little wood-shed for a burning stove in my living room. I want to have two dogs. I want to have a house pig. I want to have a goat. I want to make art in an attic studio. I want this studio to have paint covering the walls and canvas strewn all over the furniture. I want to have so many windows that it never gets dark in the day-time. I want to have several fruit trees and a huge vegetable garden. 

This is what I want.

"Are you and grum still kickin' it?"

Asked by mountainolive

Hey, I’m glad you asked!

Yes, Grum and I are still kickin’ it old school and loving every minute of it. Err, well, I’m not loving him living in Kingston for another 3 weeks so much, but eh, what can I do, eh? 

Living together was such a bonding experience. We got to make a home, create a positive vibe within that home, and look forward to coming home every day to make the most of it. The last two months of our stay in Kingston were actually the best; we felt like for once, we didn’t have to LOOK FORWARD to anything, because we were just… happy. Happy with each other, happy living in that little apartment - and it gave us a really positive idea of what living together more permanently would be like. 

Unfortunately, Toronto’s not the easiest place to find cheap 1-bedroom apartments in, so at the end of the Summer, we both planned on going back to the places we were living in pre-Kingston. Don’t get me wrong, I love this house and my roommates, but it’s hard to go from seeing your partner every day to not seeing him at all. REALLY hard. In May, we might start looking for an affordable place where we can live, but until then we’re gonna’ be doing our best to work/school/socialize while still seeing each other on a regular basis. That means… more coffee dates! (I guess we’re lucky in a sense because we’re kind of forced to continue going on dates and making special little celebratory hangouts. They’re always enjoyable!)

I suppose you probably know where I’m coming from with the distance thing, eh? How do you manage!?

Interview Jitters

I know that a lot of interviewers have a “good cop/bad cop” method, but damn, this was intense.

So, I enter the store and I’m greeted by an extremely friendly man with an artsy hat who is insistent on trying to make me feel comfortable by making tons of silly jokes. It actually works, and I loosen up quite a bit, feeling right at home with the eccentric, tall man. The woman I’m supposed to meet, who I assumed was the manager, comes down the stairs and says she’ll just be a few minutes. A few minutes later, another girl enters the store, asks for the woman I’m meeting, and then goes up the stairs. Maybe 5 minutes later, I see them both walking down the stairs and I’m invited to come up for my interview. 

I wasn’t aware that there was another manager or another person who I’d be meeting, so when I step into the interview room and see a man stationed behind a very large and nice looking desk watching me with an ever-so-critical eye, I’m a bit taken aback. I shake his hand (the usual, “Nice to meet you”), and take a seat. The questions are all pretty standard, and for the first time in an interview, I feel as though my responses aren’t contrived. So, y’know, I’m feeling pretty conversational, and it helps to make the interview feel less stressful, but right when I start easing into the situation, the man behind the desk starts sort of.. shooting off really curt questions and responses at me. I start to feel as though he already dislikes me, either based on my appearance or the way I speak? I don’t know. Anyway, at the end of the interview, the woman says to the man, “Do you have any other questions?” And he just shakes his head and quietly says, “No.” 

Now I’m sitting at home, going through the interview over and over again and hoping that I didn’t sound like an idiot, or that they didn’t secretly hate me or that they didn’t think I was under qualified or.. OR OR OR OR. I’m petrified! It’s so up in the air!

All I know is that I really, really, REALLY want that job, and I will be crushed if I don’t get it. Honestly, dudes, that place is heaven. 


I should have just gone to bed.

Now I’m awake and feeling crummy.

Interviews and Good Luck

Tomorrow, I have an interview with an art store that I’ve been wanting to work at since I moved here. It’s this cute little house-style shop with tons of great products, and a bunch of really nifty employees. Every time I go in there, I’m greeted by really interested, kind and helpful people who both know their art stuff and know their way around the store like the back of their hand - and I’ve never once felt self conscious over my new-to-actual-university-grade-art-products-ness. 

That’s the kind of place I wanna’ work. I wanna’ work somewhere I can feel passionate about what I’m selling. I wanna’ work in a place that allows me to really get stoked for my customers when I find out what they’re buying, and to know a place not because I have to, but because I WANT to. I want to be inspired by the other folks buying supplies, and hear about their projects and just.. GAH.

I know I’m hyping it up a bit too much, but just indulge me here, ‘cause I’m having a moment. 

I hope I get it. Wish me luck!

Depression, Anxiety, and Growth.

I think everyone has a closet. Everyone has a dark, cramped space where they stay put so that they don’t scare anyone as they come out. It’s like, if you jump out too quickly you might give someone a heart attack, or if you come out too slowly people will think there’s something seriously wrong with you. My closet is depression. 

For a long time, I’ve used phrases like, “I’m just sad - I’m not depressed,” and then eventually, “I don’t have DEPRESSION, I’m just a bit depressed.” This sort of thing has been a way to make other people, and myself, feel more comfortable with what I’ve been dealing with my entire life. Depression. Anxiety. Anger. Since I was a little kid, I’ve been struggling with these things, and at several points throughout my life, things have become pretty serious.  I’m talking’ smash-my-head-against-my-door-because-I’m-mad kinda’ serious (this was when I was in elementary school, mind you, but things progress in weird ways). This anger, this self-loathing and world-loathing and all around unpleasantness is something I’ve been battling day in and day out, and all the while, I’ve been trying to tell myself that it’s circumstantial. 

Well, I think I’m at a point now where I can finally walk out of my closet and say that, no, it’s not merely circumstantial. I have depression. I have anxiety. I have anger issues. These are things I battle daily, not just when things go wrong. These are things that just kinda’ hangout in the back of my mind whenever I wake up, whenever I eat or hangout with people, and whenever I’m going to bed. The thing that makes me so frustrated about it is I’m always trying to find the root cause. Why do I feel so mad? Why do I dislike myself so much? Why do I need to constantly remind myself that the world wouldn’t be better if I just ceased to be? These questions don’t really matter to me anymore, because to be honest, they don’t help anything. I mean, maybe it’s because I was picked on as a kid, or maybe it’s a gene that skipped a generation. But even if I figure out the root cause, I’m still sitting there thinking about how the past MADE this happen, and if something MADE me this way, I guess it’s justified right? Wrong.

So how do I get over it? Well, last year I’ll admit that I didn’t. The same sorts of insecurities really got at me, making social events near crippling without a drink or joint in my hand. My e.i. (which comes and goes in waves, but at the beginning of last year wasn’t too bad) flared up with a ferocity that only intensified as time went on. I started to feel more agitated, more reclusive, and the thought of going out to do groceries was extremely scary. Hell, the thought of going out of my ROOM was extremely scary. But after this Summer, and after experiencing some of the things that I have, I think the best coping mechanism is to stop thinking about the past. My boyfriend had this analogy about a boat; he said that the boat’s wake doesn’t propel the boat foreword. Sure, the wake shows where the boat’s been, but every moment, the boat moves away from that wake, and it is in an entirely new place. That boat doesn’t leave an extended version of itself - it simply moves. And that’s something he related to life. We constantly think of ourselves as ongoing beings. Like… the past somehow directly links us to the present, that our past selves are so inseparable from our present selves that they almost dictate what we can and can’t do. But that’s sort of like saying that the wake dictates where the boat can and can’t go, isn’t it? We are no longer there. We are no longer those people. And yes, while we may still have some of the same characteristics as those people, we’re not restricted from doing anything based on their motives and insecurities. I WAS a bulimic for 6 years. I WAS made fun of every day. I WAS struggling with suicidal thoughts for a better part of my life. But I have a choice to keep my boat sitting in a frozen wake, or I could propel it forward.

See, I guess I’m going to slowly start accepting the things that I felt most afraid of. My depression and anxiety and insecurities and anger. I can still feel them lingering around, and so I need to deal with them and mostly likely WILL be dealing with them for a while. But I won’t be sitting here saying that because I’ve had a history with these things, I can never be free of them. Today’s a day to move forward and realize that every wake eventually becomes still water, and the boat keeps on moving.

There, I’m out. Closing this closet door behind me.

It’s drawing near.

As some of you may know, the beginning of this Summer didn’t work out as planned. To be truthful, the entire thing seemed to have failed; every single bit of security we had fell beneath our feet, and left us flopping around in some big, black void of unknown. To be even MORE truthful, I was really angry. I was angry at myself for trusting anyone but myself to make the plans work; I was angry at my job for letting me down when I needed it most. I was angry at everyone. I was angry at everything.

Now, the end of this Summer is drawing near, and Grum and I are packing our bags once again for the third move in four months. Looking back on everything now, it seems like it was right. It seems like some big thing that makes a hell of a lot of sense — like the world said, “Kay, hold up, we’re gonna’ make some changes.” I HATED the beginning of this Summer; I have note after note after note (which I wrote at a job I acquired after I realized my previous work-plan wasn’t happening) that explains how much I believed I was in Hell. I’m not lying when I say I thought I was being punished in the worst ways, that life was finally piling on the straw that would inevitably break this camel’s back. It didn’t though. It didn’t break this camel’s back. I made it through, and Grum made it through, and his mum made it through. And despite everything, I’d say we did a pretty damned good job of getting our lives back on track after we were shit-kicked by the cosmos. 

Next month, Grum and I will be apart. I’ll be settling back into the big city, and he’ll remain here until the end of August to save up and prepare a bit more for the semester ahead. We both managed to work out school; which was one of the main reasons we moved here. We’ve decided to really push ourselves to do well, to have fun, and to calm our minds. Next Summer, we’ll do things right - but I know now that no matter what happens, it’ll end up being alright. After this Summer, I’m pretty confident that we can succeed. We can win.

Making the most of my sick day. I may be feeling like poop, but it won’t stop me from getting some drawing done.

Making the most of my sick day. I may be feeling like poop, but it won’t stop me from getting some drawing done.