Grande Extra Hot, No Water, Soy Chai Latte-infused Rant

Just like many twenty-somethings, I’m in that weird place where nothing seems to be going anywhere and I don’t know where to start.

Fuck you, chai latte.

I studied theatre knowing full well of the disappointments and heartaches — the harsh reality of the performance arts industry sat in the back of my head during auditions and rehearsals. The insecurity and fear is still here, still hanging on to my tiny medulla oblongata as I scan through the job listings on Alliance for Arts and Culture or Work in Culture. Here I am, three years after graduating from UVic, sitting at Starbucks and leeching off their shitty wifi connection, searching for something…anything. Something to stir something inside and wake me up from this daze.

Still searching for some direction in my life. To borrow the words of Mr. Kerouac:

“I have nothing to offer but my own confusion.”

Where do I go from here and how do I start? I’m starting from the beginning once again after a long painful period of a rough young marriage plagued with bouts of depression and uncontrollable anxiety.

When things fall apart they come back together again, right? It will never be the same, but when the time comes when another force shatters the world, it won’t be be as painful as the first time. In fact, it’ll be easier to pick the shards up again and piece it all back together. I’ll be falling apart and getting back together for the rest of my life and I’ll figure out how to be fine with this shitty cycle.

Samsara.