i am so tired of editing and making sure that everything is just so for all my papers ....that is why i have decided to say to hell with the capital here...there will be many a spelling mistake...and that is ok. i will enjoy the run on sentence, this will be streamings of thought. and what thought is ever edited or re-written? i am making espresso right now in my dad's 20 year old machine lugged back from venice. it has made countless cups of coffee for countless people, strange artists mostly. right now i am putting off my reading of biochemistry...which i kind of like..that i have put off for the past 24 hours...instead i finished the first phillip pullman book, the golden compass, which is like proscrastination gold. now i sip on this coffee and wonder if i could live out in the woods alone. i am currently living at home, going to school, studying nursing. i feel very much alone here and wonder why i choose this. it is a strange thing, when you find youself doing something in life that seems toatly contrary to what it is you thought you wanted to do. i'm eating a peice of sprouted grain toast and peanut butter with my hot delicious coffee and wondering if the flower pollen my toast was just sittingin could kill me? it's been grey here all year pretty much, today the sky is blue and clear. therfore i shouldn t be here writing, i should be out skiing or walking. there is a trail that goes down to a big lake that i love. there are old pine trees and hills. most of the trees here have been taken by the mill, so any old tree is a sight to behold. this place, newfoundland, is strange...sort of off the map. but i am watching and witnessing that old history begininnng to change very quickly. people are sniffing her out and have found her, she is now being taken advantage of. there are jets flying across the north atalntic, carrying hundreds of people directly from heathrow airport, twice a week. it is cheaper to rip down the trees here and pave roads than it is in england...it's all finished there, all done. Nl is sadly located close to england, a 4 hour flight to a place realtively untouched, something relatively unheard of. the resorts are being build now and all the land is disappearing....the white peasantry are being shuffled into action...the master econmony cracking the whip, pushing them into the stolen building sites, banging artificial towns together, in places where they are not welcome. Gates are being built, taxes are going up and the men are painting more lines and boundies...in the trees and across bodies of water. funny,this side of the island is mostly inhabited by renegade dissidents..fleeing the slavery and tyranny of the english fish merchants. ...now the english return 500 years later to 'retire'..theie old enemies are still here and still poor, but happy. these enemies were born on the same soil but had clearer minds...(genocide aside) the big resort being built right now is called humber valley, named after the river that accomodated the destruction of of the forests that lay along her shores...all the logs that were drugged along her passage ways..what a sad thing. the only thing that makes me happy is a small section of land along her sweeping curves that is not owned my the business men. it is a small section of waterfront, owned by local people, people who were born here and lived and worked throuhgh the storms and throuhg hardships.. this land sits on the opposite shore of the 'boat house' fomal dining room in the gated resort. and so allowing all the rich english folk the unending pleasure of sitting out on the deck to see, imposed on the treed hillside, the decrepit old summer trailers, strung with cheap patio lanterns, yards scattered with cheap plastic kid's toys, bleached from the sun and old car parts and rickety picnic tables lined with smiling faces, the air filled with boistreous laughter. there is a great thing here, the two sides of the river know all too well about one antoher... cheapside...crammed with lowbrow newfies, drinking cheap beer and eating canned moose, real nomads of this age...being real.. while the other side, the false aristocracy, reserved and casting cold looks, dine on out of season lobster and are no more suited for life under her banches as thier children are to play with the children across the river. thier shallow appreciation of the land they paid for is not welcome. i will never go thier. i am waiting for my friend to pick me up..we are going togobanning. i love thesnow. i miss the prairies with all my heart. there is a spirit here that i don't understand and never will. my family and biology have been pressed into the priarie fold on this earth, i will return in 2.5 years. i will find a way to have a home there. soon. i want to love someone and there is no one here to love. only the plants and the land..only the open potential that lies inbetween everyting i can see.