What if this is all there is to life. What if I've reached my peak. Maybe I'm condemned to riding around in a truck doing a shitty job that I hate for the rest of my life. It's Friday night and I'm sitting in a hotel room in Williams Lake. I hate my life.

Being pulled in two different directions. Two different worlds. Calling me. One I don't fit in anymore, nor do I want to, yet I long for it. The other, foreign, scary, a place where I don't fit... yet. Yet that place is my goal. That is where I want to be. The process of getting there may just end up killing me. Laying in bed last night I desperately wanted to cease to exist. Why can't it be that easy?