When I was very young, I used to throw grass and other flowers in a wheelbarrow and pretend I was making potions. Everything was play, and I had an extreme amount of energy. Rambunctious some might call it.
When I was working full time, I needed my lazy days to rest and recharge. Now that I’m much closer to the end of my life, I feel the need to fill my days, but I’m losing track of everything because I don’t have a special someone to help.
My mother wanted to help, but that’s because she looks forward to my death. On some level I know both her and my brother see dollar signs. Where i believed we might be a tricycle, we can’t. Each of us is too self-centred and too dogged in our pursuit for the future to check in properly with each other. We are all single according to the census.
I feel now that I’ve lived largely an unproductive life. I have accomplished some things but nothing special. I have not lived up to my potential. In many ways, I squandered it.
My care will be based out of Kelowna and I have no choice but to be back here in this god awful city, seeing the lies when I told myself I was smart, competent, etc. I will never publish anything whole or significant because unfortunately it’s just not the goal anymore.
So what is the goal, you may ask. To travel a bit would be nice… see at least one European destination. To see the rest of Canada. To pace in larger concentric circles and undo all the damage I’ve done to everyone who just doesn’t love me in that way. To be seen.
Imbued Experiences 
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