Only the good die young

Peter Houston passed away yesterday in the Moncton hospital, after a motorcycle accident on the Island on Sunday.

May he be in all our prayers.

What does it mean when your father's been posting more than you have lately? Kier's musings are just flying off the press. Well, not really, but for him, that's flying. Dad, are you out there? Where are those pictures you promised me? I was told I would get an update on his garden, I haven't seen anything yet. Mom tells me she spent last night eating salmon by the pool, what a life it is back home. I supposed I live a pretty decent life up here myself. Tonight it's off to a fondue party, but first I have to get at least one assignment finished. That will leave me with two quizes and two assignments to get done before Wednesday. Yes, I say before because Wednesday I will need to pack. Hoorah for vacation. Anyone else going to be at Klondike Days in Edmonton on Thursday?

It's definitely time for me to take a vacation. I've had enough. I'm just feeling worn out and melodramatic. I slept twelve our last night and still am not satisfactorily rested. I need out of the "I need to make money" pain of Fort McMurray. I need freedom. Freedom will come with four tires and a steering wheel. I'm eager, it can't come soon enough.

Do you ponder, as Shmoe does? I do. Why do I depend on others? When will I get the guts to embrace independence? I need to learn to say, "Fuck you!" to all the people who tell me I shouldn't do things, whether for financial reasons, or so called safety reasons. I think I'm the worst culprit for telling myself I can't do things. I get sick of it.