Why Halifax sucks.

The world is a cruel and cold-blooded globe of festering crap. Why is it that Halifax can produce so much good music but be so evil in all other ways? A girl from Halifax murdered my sliver of hope that our lives could improve, by giving her incredible and perfect apartment away to someone else. We saw it at 10pm last night, I called at 8:30 am this morning and apparently she had "shown it to a friend of a friend who had taken it this morning". She can blow that pack of lies out of her jesus hole. Lies or not, it's gone. I had already seen my new life unfolding in detailed visions there. Oh, plus once, I moved to Halifax to go to NSCAD but after gave up after 3 weeks and 2 apartments. NOT going to get into that one. Let's just say that I felt Halifax to be oozing invisible death and literally felt as though pure evil was chasing me all the way to the border of, well, Quebec really. New Brunswick wasn't any kind of comfort just because it's so boring. SO, now that I have alientated a good chunk of the east coast---Allow me to clarify that I'm down with all other parts of the east coast. It's only Hellifux and New Boringwick that I have trouble with.

So I am drained of hope. I cried and blubbered and now I am just numb. Having to live with noisy and or psycho/mean/smelly/etc neigbours is miserable - plain and simple - and until we have more money to buy a better place, I will have to resort to anaesthesia to get through. Seriously, if any one can hook me up with that stuff you get through intravenous when you get your wisdom teeth out that allows you to be awake the whole time yet blissfull about someone cutting bloody gashes into your gums and sawing off chunks of teeth and the like...just a continuous little drip of that should get me through.

sigh. Must I resign myself to expressing my angst through mime? Is that the sort of person I will be turned into. Will I find myself worshipping Jeebus in an effort to reconcile with the disapointments and hardships of life? How will I keep renewing my resolve? Is it progress to imagine yourself flopping willingly out of a 28th storey window? Will a bag of chips help at all?

I just don't know.

I'll tell you what else. Someone, let's say someone with whom I work, is unsanitarily obsessed with her children in a "Holy blowholes woman, you NEED a hobby!" kind of way. A "Do you WANT your children to become incredibly maladjusted freaks?" kind of way. Suppose one of her children attended a -recently in the news- school with a shooting. Suppose she found it rather exciting that her daughter had in some small way become connected with such a widely-covered event. Suppose this child had ended up in a published photo along with some others crouching behind a car hours after the event as many of the confused and frightened teenagers and people in the area did. Now suppose this woman spent hours, scouring the internet to find a high resolution version of this photo to scrapbook this exciting slice of her child's life. AM I being overly critical to say that this is indeed disturbed? Scrappling for some feeling of importance through a child being in the same building, along with 10,000 other students, as a sick bastard shot 19 people and then himself? Maybe it's one of those- "You don't have kids. You wouldn't understand." things. I'm sure any trauma her daughter might feel has been soothed by her mother collecting images like some sort of obssessed celebrity stalker, only in this case there is no star.

Bleak.