On the city and how it swallowed me.

I love looking through old blog entries,
here is one from this day 2 years ago that I never published:

So, four weeks now and counting. If you're wondering how I'm dealing, the
answer is really weirdly. I'm really stressed and I'm arguing with everyone,
I guess. I just announced the final Hosanna, I'm giving my two weeks at work
tomorrow and I've started packing the stuff I won't need between Nanaimo and New Life. I typically run to the beach for my solace, and the other night where I normally
saw only the expanse of water reaching out, all I could see were the
flickering lights of Vancouver: the city that will swallow who I've always
known myself to be and will teach me to look like someone I've never seen
before. I will die next year, moreso than ever before.

I am terrified.

I was a kid: young, reckless, and wildly arrogant. I set out to conquer the world with love.
Now love is conquering me, and my only attack on this world is loudly refraining when she asks me to change. I am still dying, I am still being resurrected; I am still terrified, I am still hopeful.