Paramore AND Lights!

Okay. I'm super super excited right now!
If you've been reading my blog for some time now, you might be aware that I love Paramore.
And if you've been reading my blog for some longer time, you might -also- be aware that I love Lights.

My two favourite bands (and in fact, the only two artists from whom I've ever bought CDs) are touring together! They're coming to the ACC on the 20th of November! AHHHH. I've NEVER been this excited to see a concert in my ENTIRE life!

I might just have to dish out the big bucks to get some really good seats. Usually, I don't care too much as long as I can see the band... but considering that these are absolutely my two favourite musical groups, the situation warrants me getting prime seats!

It's kinda eerie, actually. I've always wished they would tour together... And my wish is coming true! It's unbelievable. I had to do a double-take when I saw the announcement on a Paramore forum just now.

Even though they're somewhat different styles (Paramore is pop rock, Lights is synth/electro pop), I think they're going to mesh really well together. Hayley (lead singer of Paramore) and Lights (that's her legal name! :D) are incredible performers, and I've had the amazing opportunity to see them live before.

Siiiiiick.

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Victoriam in Astronomia

Having had a bit of white zinfandel, I am now in a position to expand on matters of universal concern.
Here's an (abridged) "Socratic" conversation I had with one of my pah-ren-tals today.
Keep in mind that this conversation is taking place with someone who has a bachelor's degree in Chemistry.

Me: I have a thought experiment!
P: I love thought experiments!
Me: Here goes. What is matter made of?
P: Well... *after much hesitation and a couple questions* atoms.
Me: Great! What are atoms made of?
P: *after a slight hesitation*  Empty space.
Me: Well, technically, yes, but I mean the matter.
P: Electrons.
Me: And?
P: Neutrons and protons.
Me: Yeah!
P: ???
Me: Let's keep going. What is the universe made of?
P: ???
Me: Well?
P: Well, matter of course.
Me: And what is matter made of?
P: Ummm...
*I start the experiment again*
P: Atoms.
Me: Indeed. But did you know that the atomic theory only explains about 10% of the what the universe is made of? We really have no clue what the 90% is, but we call it "dark matter" and "dark energy".
P: I've never heard of that.
Me: Well, it's true. The observable universe is 100% explained with the atomic theory, but that 100% only explains 10% of the actual universe.
Me: Given this fact, I find it absurd that people who absolutely adore SCIENCE denigrate against other, "lesser" worldviews.

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Day 3 without Facebook

It's my birthday today.
No one has called me to wish me "happy birthday!" as of 5:00 pm.
No one has texted me to wish me "happy birthday!", but this point is moot because I don't have a cellphone at this present time.
I have received three e-mails today that wished me happy birthday: one from Badminton Central, one from Plenty of Fish, and one from my friend Kaylie, who is in Australia.
Two people on Skype have wished me happy birthday, but only after Skype notified them. They are mostly strangers to me.

You might be wondering: "Gabe, why are you being so whiny? It's not like you wished me happy birthday when my birthday rolled around!"
To that, I answer that two wrongs don't make a right.
The more important answer is that we're probably not good enough friends for me to a) have your cell # and/or b) I likely wouldn't be one of the people you'd invite to your birthday party.
I also can't keep up with the flood of birthdays that Facebook imposes on me. With Facebook gone for now, I feel it's more likely than before that I -will- wish you happy birthday, whenever it rolls around.

I do not have the funds, nor the desire to go get drunk at a pub like so many of my other friends do when their birthday rolls around. I would rather go on an adventure, or go to a park and maybe get drunk there, like my friend Mark and his crew once did earlier this summer. That was fun.

Made me chuckle. But then I realized they were being serious.

This will be the first birthday in many years that I don't have a flood of people on Facebook wishing me happy birthday; mostly people who once a year take three seconds out of their lives to type something on my wall, and then never speak to me again until next year. Should I act grateful? Social norms dictate that I should be grateful, but the truth is I'm annoyed more than anything.

I would be lying if I said I hadn't started to miss Facebook; there is some comfort there. But I remain absolute in my convictions that Facebook has not helped my social life one bit.

Hope you don't take this too personally, dear reader.

Day 1 without Facebook

It feels like a huge weight's been lifted off my shoulders
That's what I was hoping for, but I didn't expect it to happen so soon after deleting Facebook off my internetz.

I don't have to sign in to see if someone sent me a message.
I don't have to sign in to see if anyone posted on my wall.
I don't have to sign in to see if anyone invited me to an event I probably won't go to anyway.
I don't have to sign in to see what friend X ate for breakfast.
I don't have to sign in to "Like" a business page to get a coupon.
I don't have to sign in to see how hot girl Y is in picture Z.
I don't have to sign in to see what my friends did at a party.
I don't have to sign in to see random people wishing me "Happy Birthday!".
I don't have to sign in to see what friend X wrote on Y's picture.
I don't have to sign in to see what friend Y's boyfriend looks like.
I don't have to sign in to see pictures of memories that are more real than Facebook ever will be.

I'm finally free.

Exceptional

Inextrication

The drum lies in its dark red case, waiting for hands to strike it.
But no fingers ever touch it, for the master of the hands is afraid of it.

The guitar lies in its corner, gathering dust, waiting for fingers to pluck it.
But no hands ever pick it up.

The drum kit lies beside the door, waiting for sticks to hit it.
But no sticks ever hit it, for the sticks are nowhere to be found.

The keyboard lies on the bar, waiting for a virtuoso to play it.
But no virtuoso wants to touch it.

The bass lies between the bookcase and the wardrobe, waiting for a prodigy to finger it.
But no prodigy ever fingers it, for he is too far gone to remember it.

The mic lies in a dungeon, awaiting its owner.
But the owner rarely uses it.

The computer stirs, the blue and red lights turn on, and as it lets out its first dusty breath, I await my saviours.

I hope I can get it

Position Title: Student Blogger

Description 

“Either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing” quoth Benjamin Franklin.
If you love food, this is your opportunity to do both.
UeaT is the student-focused face of Food Services at the University of Toronto. We oversee food locations across the St. George campus and coordinate food-related events that get the university community thinking and talking about the food they eat.
Essential to our success is the contribution of our students – and that’s where you fit in. We need you to help deepen the conversation surrounding food on campus while promoting UeaT events, programs and initiatives.
The Student Bloggers will primarily be responsible for writing articles for the UeaT blog, developing content for a wide range of print and digital media projects, and using social media to get the conversation going.
Bloggers will also be expected to participate in events such as Field to Fork, Food Truck Fridays, Nutrition Week and March Madness, and to perform other duties to support the Food Services team as required.

Qualifications

• Current university student, enrolled in FT or PT studies for the 2013/2014 academic year

• No previous professional experience is required, but your cover letter should demonstrate that you have the writing and storytelling skills required to excel in this position.

• Knowledge of food (preparation, consumption, production, distribution, etc.) and/or issues of food security, nutrition and sustainability is an asset.

• Experience with WordPress (or other Content Management Systems) is an asset.

• Previous experience writing print material for publication is an asset.

• Previous experience writing for a blog and/or other social media forum is an asset.

Skills

• Strong communication skills (written and verbal)

• Able to convey a story through the written word

• Able to conduct original research

• Able to work independently or as a dedicated member of a small team

• Highly creative

This job seems AWESOME! I love food and blogging. This is taken from this job posting. Wish me luck! :)

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Musings from a UofT student

• Is it fair that students with laptops have an advantage over those who don't (in classes that use clickers) because they can look up the clicker questions on the PowerPoint slides when the prof uploads them to Blackboard right before class starts?
• Why do so many students go to lectures to watch videos and browse Facebook on their laptops?
• Why (in certain classes) do you have to pay money to look at an exam that you wrote?
• Why are students allowed to enroll in a "fake" Program of Study on ROSI to get into courses that are limited to students who are legitimately majoring or specializing in a given subject?
• Why does Robarts library close so early on Fridays?
• Why do the vast majority of food trucks/student cafeterias sell only junk food?
• Why am I not eligible for the 30% off tuition despite being only slightly older than people entering post-secondary right after high school?
• Why do I feel like a visible minority on the St. George campus?
• Why am I not allowed to pay for my full-time classes on a per-course basis during the academic year?
• Why do first-year students in lecture halls always sit at least two seats away from people they don't know?
• Why are textbooks so expensive?
• Why is important scholarly research paywalled to non-university students?
• Why are there intellectuals on campus who wander around and don't appear to be grounded in physical reality?

That's all I can really think of for now. I might decide to add some pictures to each bullet later on once I have all the pictures I need.

Have you got any musings to share?

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Chinatown Horses

A couple weeks ago, on a bright Sunday afternoon, I decided to take a stroll around Kensington and Chinatown, as I so often do during the weekend. Sometimes, I walk around and look for good deals on things I want or need. Sometimes, tourists say hi and ask for directions. Secretly however, I'm actually doing what a lot of hopeless romantics do when they're bored: they wander the avenues and hope that their soulmate falls into their lap.

To be honest, I really don't expect this to happen. This is because I live in the big city and things like that don't happen in the big city. People are too conditioned not to pay too much attention to strangers in the street, which is a darn shame because I really think we can all learn so much everyday if we talk to someone new. But still I cling on to this false hope that never gets me anywhere. I know I should  try other methods to meet someone I can date and yet my mind holds on to this romanticism like a mad fool.

But I have tried other methods. After a friend of mine (Em., I'm looking at you!) suggested I sign up on Plenty of Fish, I reluctantly created an account and filled in the extensive personality tests (which were surprisingly accurate) and started my search on there.

Supposedly, the matchmaking system of PoF is crafted by "people with PhDs". And there are very interesting and attractive girls on there that I've been matched with based on how I answered my "chemistry" tests. The main problem I'm having - and this is pretty major - is that out of a total six messages I've sent to someone, I have received zero replies.

And these aren't "hi, how are you" messages; PoF says to send a detailed message, so I do.
And some of these people have indicated, based on their review of my profile, that they "want to meet me". But I send them a message, and I get no replies. How rude.

I honestly don't think my messages are too outlandish. In fact, I feel like they're probably better crafted than many other guys' "hey babe, u look hot".

I just want to let out a great big SIGH. Human relationships shouldn't be this difficult to create and maintain.

Before I leave you with this desperate blog post that will no doubt mull around in your head, here's something I bought in Chinatown. The key thing to note is that both images are of the same object. Neat!

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Late early late late early late

It's too late. It's way too late. Why am I up.
I should not be up.
I need to be solar; not lunar right now. I can be lunar during the winter. But I need to be solar during the summer.

The blue lights draw me in like a firefly.

I don't know why; I simply can't seem to do it on my own.
And no matter how I try, I keep falling back into the same cycle again.

Okay, maybe not the exact same cycle. It's always different. This time, I'm busy writing to people; and they write back! I get attention!

The red lights put me out like a match.

It's funny how much easier it is to open up when you're staring at a screen. I really do think robots would make good shrinks. They don't even need to be sentient; they just need to be human reflections.

Let's just see what's going through my head right now.
Well, I'm already kind of disappointed in myself for not being able to have a cogent flow of ideas in this post. Everything feels disjuncted. Here I am, talking about a personal issue and then I start talking robotics.

It's almost 4 am. I wonder if that has something to do with it. Maybe it's hard to be coherent when your body and mind are completely backwards; that is, completely opposite to what mother nature intends.
If I really wanted to be making the most of my summer, I'd be getting up at sunrise and going for a walk in the ravine every day.

But I know that's not going to happen. I have no reason to get up and go to the ravine. Careful, Gabriel, don't get too ageist now. Well, what I was going to say before I stopped myself is that only old people who are retired get up that early and go for walks in the ravine. And I've spent too much time around old people in random hospitals all around the country; there's never anyone just my age in the early morning. They always get up late and drink their coffee and rush to work because that's what young-er people are expected to do.

All I ever wanted was another crazy girl who's been through the same shit I've been through to hang out with me once in a while; and then maybe once in a short while.

But you can't ever find these people because, just like me, they stay hidden inside and only reveal themselves in the most rare of occasions.

Someday.

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You Know What Grinds My Gears? (YKWGMG)

Oh yes. It's time to rant. But this time, it won't be a single rant... No, no, this time it will be a LIST of rants. Rants about things; small things, big things, random things, things I dislike, thinks that annoy me; even things that don't even seem like I could rant about. This list is related to my earlier list of things that irritate me that I first published in 2009. Here goes.

• Okay. Screw people who decide it's okay to walk down a busy sidewalk and light up a cigarette. It's bad enough that the smoke smells toxic. It's even worse that you're putting other peoples lives at risk. I see no difference between this and drunk driving except for the fact that one is legal and the other isn't. And even still, most of these smokers are breaking the law - you need two meters between a building entrance and a lit cigarette if you really wanna be picky about it. I don't care if you smoke; but do it away from my lungs.
• I have a hard time getting along with people who hate on medicine that one would not find in a hospital. Just because you haven't heard of another kind of medicine (read: naturopathic) or seen hundreds of studies about it doesn't mean it doesn't work.
• Car commercials. Enough said.
• People who think their music genres are better than everyone else's.
• Everyone on Plenty of Fish (yes, I have an account).
• People who still troll people online past the age of 22.
• Sardines in rancid oil.
• Big agro/Big pharma/Big telecom (in order of dislike).
• People who complain to an excess about politicians and don't vote.
• People who constantly brag about the amount of drugs they've done/the amount of sexual encounters they've had.
• People who have nothing to say when you ask them: "what's up?".
• People who say "I hate hipsters" for no reason other than to have something to say.
• People who say "I am not a hipster".
• Stores that don't include tax on their price list. This is the majority of stores in Canada and it really irritates me that we have yet to switch to a more European system. Same goes with tips.
• Immigrants who, for reasons under their control, choose not to learn the native (i.e. official) language of the country they emigrate to.
• I get annoyed when people call me a "frenchie". If you're from Turkey, would you enjoy being called a turkie? Or if you're from Chile, would you enjoy being called a chili?
• Hypocrites who refuse to admit they're hypocrites despite overwhelming evidence.
• Ads and marketing that targets young children to get them to buy junk (food).
• Consumerism. This one is a big rant in and of itself.
• The Tumblr blogging platform. This one is a big rant in and of itself.
• Societal norms that dictate how you should dress. Yes, they are important, but I really don't see why wearing two socks that don't match would ever cause any serious problems in our society.
• People who are addicted to coffee and yet judge (in a negative way) people who use recreational drugs.
• People who don't realise that it's easy to ignore trouble when you're living in your bubble. Let 'em spill their guts 'cause one day they're gonna slip on 'em. (Credit goes to Paramore, of course).
• People who don't listen to my drunk stories
• When I can't find duct tape. I have bought endless meters of duct tape over the years and I still have trouble finding any lying around. I don't use all of it, so I have no idea where it goes.
• Science for the sake of "SCIENCE!". Progress for the sake of progress.
• People who love bacon and have to tell everyone how much they love it. We get it. It's tasty. So are countless other meats.
• Americans who come to Toronto and don't mimic the politeness they encounter here and take it for granted. (This one's debatable: it's hard to tell sometimes who's a native Torontonian and who's just visiting. Also, not every Canadian/Torontonian is polite.)
• People who appear to spend most of their waking life on their smartphones, especially on the streets. While not being nearly as damaging (unless they're driving) as the people who smoke cigarettes on the sidewalk, I still get annoyed when people lose track of personal space because they're so focused on their iPhones and they just become oblivious to their surroundings.
• Raccoons who think they own the place. Right now, they're probably in the grapevine in the backyard knocking down grapes that yours truly will have to pick up later.
• Atheists who need to tell the world about how there's no god or gods.
• Religious nuts who need to tell the world... well, you get the picture.
• People who simply refuse to acknowledge the destruction that GMOs/The Green Revolution has caused in areas other than the First world.

Okay, that's it for now! Gotta get some rest before my first astronomy midterm tomorrow evening! I might add more to this list later.

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Just write

No, this time it's not a FW post.
I'm finally myself... again. Well, for the second time.
The Lyra post a few posts back was completely true. The tears -were- streaming down my face. And yes, I'm aware that it is almost 3 am, so clearly I'm not fully living my potential.

That is, unless I actually wake up early tomorrow, bright and early, and with a purpose. But the full purpose takes a long time to achieve, I think.

I should write down my random musings a lot more on here. I fell prey to something many writers may fall prey to sometime in their writing career: writing not from the heart, but writing for an audience.
There's a very important difference between the two. The latter gets you the marks; the former gets you [your] soul.

The writer's soul? What is that? I don't know. And I have a hard time calling myself a writer because it is, after all, mostly a hobby. At times it has been a passion, but most of the time, I do it out of boredom.
That doesn't mean that I don't feel passionate about what I write; I absolutely do. It's just that people tend to twist words into their understanding and so I prefer to call it a hobby.

Okay. Next topic. Love.
Today, I met far too many people who say they don't believe in love. I'm not out to challenge that belief; it is theirs, after all, and far too many people challenge other peoples' beliefs just to make themselves feel good. That's not moral.

Did I just bust out morality? I guess I did.
You know, I always had the biggest trouble distinguishing between morality and ethics. I still can't do it off the top of my head; it almost seems like they're the same word sometimes. But I know there's a technical difference, so I'll leave that to the true academics to deal with.

As promised, I'm going to end this post with some multimedia. Here's a picture of something I had to eat a few days ago. I forget what it is. I guess I'll know when I upload the photo.

Oh right, it's a curry.

Peace out, my lovely, if unfaithful, readers.

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Locked until it counts: FW

Unipolar. Bipolar. Tripolar. Take your pick.
Sad. Happy. Sad. Happy. Sad. Happy.
Oh no, I just keep on falling.
Here comes hope; misery's gone crawling.

No mistakes. All mistakes. Have you learned from your mistakes?
Lock me up; keep me away.
Rile me up; keep me safe.
Try to find her. She tries to find you.
Will you ever meet?
We've already met.
We're all around you.
I'm everywhere but near you it feels like.

Reborn. Dead. Reborn. Dead. Thoughts are here; thoughts are there! Oh, your thoughts are racing! Here, take this.
Go to school. Get a good job. What's wrong with that? You don't have to go to school. And you don't have to leave your other job.
Here comes the fickle part: Go on dating websites. Find a sweet girl.
No luck? Keep trying.

Is there no end to these words?
They spin around and dazzle in my head; they skip around and fragment all around me now instead.

I love talking to just about anyone now. Talking talking talking. Am I finally, really, human? Because I'm social? I want to talk.
But there's no one to talk to except to my empty wooden walls and this white page.
Well, I could talk to myself and the angels, but they understand me enough already. I don't want to explain everything; I want to communicate everything. Well, almost everything.

Uh oh, switched to first person. Eating fuzzy peaches, safe in my crypta.

I miss all of you; hurt by the cold. That's RHCP, basically.

Time to return to the haunting echoes. Sorry for the difficult read.

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The Leonine Horse

With such a sunny disposition, this personality rarely has shadows of doubt about anything. Idealistic and ambitious, passionate and true, the Leo Horse surges forward in an optimistic but sporadic fashion. He will be impulsive and given to grand gestures. He needs many emotional outlets to release his pent-up energies. A generous and sportive individual, the proud Leonine Horse is expressive and loves physical exercise. A happy-go-lucky innovative leader, he will have droves of friends and fans.


Source: Theodora Lau

Source

Coconut flour & banana pancakes

This is what I ate this morning. Easily scalable.


2 eggs
1 ripe banana
1 tbsp coconut flour
1 tbsp table cream
Pinch of cinnamon
Pinch of cardamom (optional)


1. Mix all ingredients together in a bowl.
2. Heat frying pan on high.
3. Mash bananas and beat the eggs with cream.
4. Spread mix on pan; cook for 3-4 minutes each side, or until golden brown.
5. Serve with maple syrup.

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Paramore

The early part of the show.

Ah, Paramore. Still my favourite band. Have you heard their latest album? It's self-titled and absolutely fantastic: the lyrics, the voice, the drumming, the guitar riffs. Going to their concert back in May was honestly the best concert experience of my life. And it motivated me to start my own band. I think you can guess the name.

It ended with confetti.

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A caterpillar's tale

I was sitting in Kensington park this afternoon, watching (but not quite staring) at the cute counter-culture girls with tattoos and hippie clothes. Little packs of people with musical instruments and various trinkets were strewn here and there, and the smell of weed wafted in and out through my nostrils.

While not getting high, I was getting more and more in tune with the atmosphere of the people there; clearly these people were regulars to the park and as conversations about their life flowed on and on endlessly around me, I felt connected.

I desperately wanted to join in on some of the fun, but having been rejected far too many times before, I decided I would not risk it and kept to myself, propped up against a tree while eating brazil nuts. But I was not alone.
All around me, the grass shimmered with late spring vitality and if I looked at the greenery just right, I could see individual lifeforms busying themselves with their animal tasks.

The ants were scurrying around, patrolling their territory. The birds were chirping, singing songs of life and liveliness. Dogs barked; cats roamed and I lay down and felt myself melt into the earth.

And then, a most beautiful creature appeared on my arm. A fuzzy little caterpillar was quietly undulating, rising and falling up and down my arm hair. He seemed happy when I looked at him straight in the eyes, as he raised his torso up to greet me.
And I talked to him.

I told him of the loneliness that I felt, even while on campus. I told him how hard I've worked to be the person I've always wanted to be. I told him that I felt happy that girls were finally looking at me when I walked down the street. Smiling, now, seemed so easy. And I got smiles back. And yet,  as I recounted to the caterpillar, I rarely found the occasion to have long, deep conversations with people.

He understood. He listened, but offered no advice. After all, he had his own problems to deal with.

Soon, he would become a butterfly. His metamorphosis was imminent; and once he would be a butterfly, then he could finally fly around and see the world from a different perspective.

And so I asked myself; maybe if I were to undergo some sort of metamorphosis; some sort of change, then maybe I could change the world around me so that I could fit in better.

And as I sit in front of a computer at the biggest library in Toronto, I wonder if my walk home will bring me the reflection I so desperately need to keep on metamorphosing.

And maybe, just maybe, the girl of my dreams will run into me at a corner, and my loneliness will be cured.

Until then, I write.

Pub time

Apparently, fitting in is important.
So anyone wanna go the pub tonight?

I pick the pub though.
And it's gonna have some gluten-free fare.
It better.

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In my world: a musical note

Whew. A lot of my previous posts have been somewhat dark. The good news is that I'm not really a dark person. Not anymore, anyway.

So to lighten things up a bit, I figure I'd share some of my rules. Rule isn't really a good word. Hmm, something like... code? Maybe. A code, yeah.

Anyway, here's one of my music codes. It's a personal code, of course, so don't think that I'm trying to say that everyone should adhere to it; that would be lunacy. Definitely not sunny today.

#1
Only in very rare exceptions should lyrics in pop music ever reference self-grooming.

Want some examples? I've got a couple.

Firstly. Avril Lavigne. Oh yeah, she's pretty great. I'm talking pre-Girlfriend era, of course. Anything after Under My Skin is pretty trash in my books.

So My World is probably my favourite song sung by her. It never fails to make me feel happy: most of the lyrics are quite smart and the actual guitar chords (a lot of majors, I believe) never fail to up my mood.

Ah, but there's a caveat. Check out this bad boy of a lyric:

I never spend less than an hour,Washin' my hair in the shower,It always takes 5 hours to make it straight,So I'll braid it in a zillion braids,Though it may take all friggen day,There's nothin' else better to do anyway.

Oh come on. Luckily, the lyrics return back to the real daydream she sings about... whatever that means.

The rest of the song is fantastic. The whole song is fantastic. And this part doesn't really bother me; I mean, I still sing along to it. It just irks me to have such a mundane section of a song take up six whole lines.

Alright. I'm feeling pretty tired. I should be in bed.

But I need to get just one more lyric off my chest. I'm being punny; you'll see.

I'm so obsessed, my heart is bound to beat right out of my untrimmed chest.

Here's some mad poetry I wrote that explains how I feel about your lyrical genius, Espionage (production team).
If you don't know the song, try and guess.
Spoiler to the right: Hey, Soul Sister - Train

Trimmed or untrimmed, I honestly don't care/
But it seems like you just didn't know what to wear/
Honestly, I think that's pretty gross/
And your boring lyrics have a funny way of making me feel morose

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The allegory of the ship

If you would prefer to listen to this short story as read by me, click here.
Hollowed out and filled up with hate/all we want is you to give us a break!

You were cruising on a mighty fine ship, headed straight for the open sea. You were master and captain and had all you needed to succeed. The first storm breezed by like nothing; after all, you were prepared. You had retouched the sails, polished the deck, whittled the bow to perfection. You had even met a mighty fine wench to guide you through the trip. And for the first time in a very long time, you felt free. For weeks at a time, you breathed the free air like a new man, excited for all the mystery and adventure that lay ahead.

But it was too good to be true. At the second sign of trouble, you were tempted. And you were hoping this wench would back you up, but she was gone somewhere else. You scared her away, and in your own moment of fear you reached out in the wrong direction.
Master and captain of your ship, but not master of your own afflictions, she took over again. Slowly, at first, to deceive you into thinking everything would be all right. So carefully, she crept into your life again, filled with promises of hope and glory.
At first, it seemed like all was well. You had, in your mind, conquered her already, this affliction a thing of the past. And there lay the real danger.

Blissfully, you ignored your own warning signs and plunged right in. Thinking someone else would fish you out if there really was trouble, you left your careful nature behind and played with the tiger's tail for a little too long. For days, you shut yourself up in your cabin, ignoring trouble in your bubble and living with the pleasures of instant gratification.

The question, then, is how you will get out of it now that you've realized your mistake? Oh, you have plenty of fantastical ideas to help you keep a steady course, but they're nothing if they're not in the real world.

Your ship is not sinking; no, it's merely drifting, waiting for its captain to take command once again and to sail on to less dangerous waters. You just wished you weren't so terribly alone on your journey. The wenches come and go, but what you really need is a mate. And in your head, you can only get one if you complete your journey.
But how are you to complete it if you're blind to all the magic that surrounds you?