At this point it’s more probable that Donald Trump is either going to win the national election, or the tie will go to the House of Representatives to pick the winner, which most likely would be a Trump win as well.
The House and Senate both appear to be a safe keep for the Republican Party also tonight.
I was walking to school. The high school was about five to seven miles from my home but it was a beautiful spring Colorado morning and it felt like the only logical choice to do with my time. My car was broken down, somewhere unknown in Albuquerque, New Mexico with little hope to ever get it back. My mom was pissed off that I had lied to her about driving to Texas to see my ex (first) girlfriend who I was still trying to win back and who never failed to break my heart every time I made an effort. This time, it was her prom. She asked me to come to hers and despite my car breaking down in the middle of the New Mexico desert, I scraped my remaining money together to get a one-way bus ticket to still make the event. Right after the prom, the inevitable played it’s part and I was once again left heart broken, this time stuck in Plainview, Texas.
It was just over five years ago that I moved to New York City from Sydney, Australia where I had lived for almost two years. That same week, I discovered Flickr and found a new home for my photography. After a few months of sleeping on an air mattress, our stuff finally arrived from Australia and we began to settle into our new home in the big city. The first few weeks felt like being on vacation, not permanent residence.
I have become used to my new morning routines that have come with the new job. I walk to Wall Street every morning, grab a coffee, jump on a crowded subway that zips me under Manhattan past Fulton, past Union Square, past Grand Central, exiting finally at 59th street.
I find that when I get really down, I start to analyze myself and the things around me as being normal or out of sorts. Am I the one doing things wrong or is the world doing me wrong? It’s usually an equal chance of either way but I can account for what I do and the world does as it pleases. Since all I can change is myself, I try to focus on that. You can accept the world as being fair or unjust but you still have to find a way to fit in it.
I once read that when we express anger, we are expressing what we hate about ourselves. We all have regrets and have done things we wish we hadn’t. Those regrets and the guilt associated with them weigh on us and shape us into who we are. This is actually good for us to a point; our consciousness needs to be reminded of consequences but some of us out there, we’re junkies for it. We need to feel regret and pain or we feel nothing at all because being satisfied just isn’t all that satisfactory after some time.
Dear 2005,
I regret that my vocabulary, nay the English language, doesn’t have enough adjectives available to describe in full detail the amount to which you fully sucked this past year.
Universally, I’m sure you killed off some really cool star systems that could have been useful to the grand scheme of things or at least interesting to look at. But, you killed the Hubble telescope so who cares anyway.
I’m walking, it’s a dark street and the world seems like it’s only in black and white. The only visible light is coming from about a block away; a street lamp shining over a single house on the corner. It’s dark but I can see a man on top of the lower roof doing repair work. It’s my father and from this distance I can see he looks tired.
A few days ago, I decided that instead of flying from Sydney to Perth, I would take the Ghan Railway, I would ride on the Indian Pacific three days across the outback with a few stops along the way. It was more expensive than flying and certainly longer, but I wanted an experience that was unique.