"I'm the son of rage and love"

Well I've been afraid of changin'...
blah blah blah


Y'know, I dig Fleetwood Mac. I dig the Dixie Chicks. I'm not not so sure I dig when the Dixie Chicks sing songs written by Fleetwood Mac. Some cover songs are awesome.
Some are really well done... Sympathy for the Devil, done by Guns 'n Roses, for example. F*ing awesome. I do believe it was recorded for the Interview with the Vampire soundtrack.

Another favorite cover of mine is The Atari's's (i don't know how you'd pluralize that... fuck's sake) version of Boys of Summer. Fallout Boy's cover of Beat It is another one. But y'know, enough about that. Everyone's heard what I'm talking about. You all know what's up.


So I've got a few new followers (for lack of a better term). Welcome to Planet Matthew. I hope you enjoy your stay. There's plenty of hot air.


The days are getting longer, my wait for moving to St. John's is getting shorter.... The days seem much longer, not just in amount of daylight, but in the sense that they never seem to end. When one wants something so bad, time always seems to stand still.

And boy oh boy, do I have something I want. Desire is in abundance in my body, my head, my heart, my soul. I want to move to St. John's and start this next phase of my life. That ten year phase of drinking/smoking/fucking is done. I'm past it.
I know, I know, I've said it a milllion times before, and one or two of you may think that I'm trying to fool myself by saying it so often. Maybe I am.
But the constant reassurance is a major help to me. It's worked better than you could imagine.

I think my lack of confidence brought on by shitty relationships, being bullied when I was younger, etc., has a lot to do with me being so overly reassuring now. I need to tell myself these things. I need to know deep in my heart and soul that that part of my life is done and over with.
It's time to see a mature, grown-up Matthew Baker.

I wouldn't be surprised if I had doubters. I almost welcome the fact that people may doubt me. I'll enjoy proving you wrong in the end. I've always liked proving people wrong.
Spiting them.

As much as I try to preach positivity to everyone I meet, I am still a very spiteful person. But pretty much everyone in my family on mom's side is spiteful to a fault. That's just how The Whites roll. I've never taken kindly to someone crossing me, lying to me, or taking advantage of me. I don't react well to negativity.
So obviously I'm gonna attack someone if they choose to defy me. Maybe that's the wrong way to go about things, but I refuse to be anything but number one. If I've gotta step on a few heads to get to the top, I will.

That doesn't mean I'm not gonna treat people with utmost respect. That doesn't mean I'm gonna lie, cheat, and steal. I don't roll like that. I believe you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who's gonna tell it like it is more than me.

And y'know, that's what I want in a girl. No bullshit. No lies. Honesty and forwardness never hurts. I appreciate someone who's gonna tell me I'm good looking and mean it. Not just because they think that's what I wanna hear. I love compliments. It's no secret I've got an ego, so fuck that "best way to a man's heart is through is stomach" bullshit with me.

I've done a little thinking, too. Since I quit smoking, I've been increasingly disgusted by it. The smell of it, the look of a smoker... I dunno. I even sneaked a cigarette a few weeks ago when I went to get a little weed from my dealer. I was just curious. I wanted to know if I missed it.
I don't.
I didn't miss it at all.
I fucking stank when I left the place. I don't mind the smell of weed. As a matter of fact, I find it comforting. But man oh man, cigarettes fucking reek. I can honestly say with 100,000% certainty that I'm done with cigarettes for the rest of my life.

That's not to say I won't ever smoke a cigar or two in the right situation. When I have more than a few beer, for example. Maybe a Captain Black, or something similar... that wouldn't hurt.

Oh, and about the weed thing. I'm not done with that. I just see it in the same light that most of you reading this see beer. A joint or two once in awhile is perfectly okay. I have no problem admitting that I had a hugely destructive addiction to pot.
And for anyone to say pot's not an addiction, I say to you "go fuck yourself straight to the lowest level of hell". Pot held me back for nearly ten years. Now I've got control over it. If I wanna smoke a joint in my new place, just because I can, well I'm gonna do it.
If I want to smoke a joint and go walk around Bowring Park, then I'm gonna do it.

But I will never ever let myself get back to smoking it every day.

I've grown a lot as a person in the last four months. I hit rock bottom when I had to move home in December, and it really put things into perspective for me. The fact that my sister is giving birth to her first child in late July played a huge part in my newfound maturity, as well.


And ohhhh I cannot wait to move into town.
For the third time. Y'know what they say, though. Third time's the charm. I know deep within my heart that things are gonna work out this time. Not just in the academic world, but in my own personal world, and within my heart. I'm going down a new road this time. It's gonna be fun, it's gonna be exciting.
Scary.
Wonderful.

I look forward to it all.


And it starts in one week from today. May 1st is the first day of the rest of my life, motherfuckers.