I haven't written anything like this in a while. If you go dig deep into the adolescent early days of West Collier Street (before it became this current haven of odd food reviews) you'll probably see some unpleasant, dark stuff. I've gone through some shit in my life and the written word has frequently been my creative outlet of choice to deal with said shit. But it's been a while since the vibe of sad twisted hopelessness has come on full force here... maybe I thought I'd finally outgrown this type of thing (ha good one).
Man. Where to begin. Last February I almost died! Yeah that seems a good place to start this. I won't get into too many of the details (especially since I don't remember most of them) but all you need to know is I was desperately unhappy at the time with the state of the world and myself, took my favourite liquid juniper vice much too far, there was a massive public scene I have no recollection of and, upon leaving a hospital the next morning with my hand throbbing in pain from an IV removal... realized I'd reached a pretty serious inflection point.
And well, credit to me because I did take it seriously and make some lifestyle adjustments. Taking on the challenge head on and not allowing something like that to take complete control of my life. Problem was... 2025 turned out was not the kind of year to reward such things. That first dry week while I was still trying to process and overcome the shame of what had happened that hazy night... a crippling emotional blow out of nowhere. A betrayal by someone(s) I had trusted, considered solid friends... at the absolute worst possible time no less. Out of humiliation I hadn't even been outside for a week, recovering from perhaps my lowest ever point when this news blindsided me. My summer sanctuary, the thought of which that had always gotten me through the cruelest winters... was all of a sudden now going to be very, very awkward. At best.
Weeks passed and once I'd mostly stopped reeling from all this, I just decided "fuck it and fuck them" I'll just prioritize working as much as I can all summer over anything else, which I'd never really done before. I'd always booked off all or most of my Saturdays in the summer. Not any more. Plus doing a whole sober summer thing... I'd save a ton of money too I figured.
And I did. Enough to plan a trip to Europe for the first time... this was it, right? The happy culmination of overcoming a personal demon, weathering the douchey behavior of former pals and legitimately showing up for every shift I was scheduled for between three separate gigs. Yeah... about that. Look, most of the Europe trip was damn lonely but also a lot of fun... not for a millisecond do I regret any of it.
Thing was, during this time I can see now that another friendship, a much older and closer one I cherished considerably more, was clearly beginning to fracture. The whole second half of my trip I'd become fed up with my friend's self-absorbed heady shit (and this is coming from me, pot kettle black etc) and just stopped messaging him at all until I got back (keep in mind we'd been friends for almost twenty years and chatted almost daily).
I got back from Europe, the Blue Jays lost the World Series, we started arguing online again about the most pointless "going around in circles about unaccepted apologizes versus emotional boundaries" fucking bullshit... until finally he just suddenly decided to end the friendship via Messenger essay. Blocked my number and everything so, couldn't even offer to last ditch try and fix this in person. Nah.... what's a two decade friendship worth these days anyhow. Certainly it's no match for the stupidest fucking argument in the history of stupid fucking arguments.
To bring this all to some actual point... yeah all this crap has left me feeling completely empty and I'm convinced these holes in my spirit aren't going to completely mend. The sensation of genuine inspiration and motivation compared with doing something just for the sake of doing it, without any real desire or excitement. It's hard to find that internal drive or even feel like giving a shit. Because why?
For instance this time of year, that usual restless anticipation I get when a new baseball season is around the corner... frankly it's not there anymore either. It's weird to feel so unenthusiastic about playing ball in a few months as like I said, there were a lot of winters it was the guiding light at the end of that cold hearted tunnel. Now I feel fueled only by anger and frustration... like I have to go prove these assholes people wrong otherwise I'm just going to be even more miserable. Not to mention I have this dumb thing with my wrist that refuses to totally heal... if I can even get to the point of swinging a bat again without horrible pain, this is more than likely going to be my last summer playing baseball. I'm not sure I feel a whole lot of joy playing the game anymore... which yeah, does really break my heart to say it.
What's the big fucking problem though? This is actually a winter I have no looming dread or worry about how I'm going to pay rent or find a new job (though barely getting shifts so far in 2026 has really not helped my headspace, idle hands and what not). Everything I'm moaning about is so trivial, right? Boo hoo, people get backstabbed and have dramatic falling out with best friends all the time. Get over it. Fine. I'll set aside my internal unhappiness and look more externally.
*Clears throat* Have you seen what's happening in the fucking world right now? The worst and most evil people, many of whom happen also to be the fucking stupidest, doing almost whatever they want with impunity and without consequence? This is a fucking mess, people. If civilization as we know it survives another fifty years they're going to look back at us and say "What in holy fucking hell were these dipshits thinking?"
So..... yeah. I'm perhaps not the most pleasant person to be around at the moment. I've blown off nearly all of the few social invites from the friends I still have (sorry) including a performance at an open mic that probably would've helped this, um, helpless feeling I'm far too accustomed to. 2026 so far has just been a lot of seething anger. Anger at people/former friends I trusted turning their backs/giving up on me in shitty or cowardly ways, anger at this absurd world patriotically proud of its ignorance and anger at myself for letting all this happen to me... even if most of it might not be my fault. Though it probably is... you get rejected enough times eventually you can't help but look inside yourself for something, anything to explain it. Not to mention becoming cold, unwilling or unable to fully trust anybody anymore. Or maybe in my adult life I've just had a lot of really fucking shitty male friends... who the hell knows.
I understand that just because you get yourself and your life on track doesn't automatically mean everything in said life is going to be fields of flowers and summer romance.... but I sure as fucking hell didn't think a year later that this more isolated sober misery could be so much worse. The lesson is.... well there's no real lesson, is there. Sometimes everything just fucking sucks, doesn't it.
If you somehow are still with me here after all that, I'll have some proper pizza reviews up soon. Honest. Clearly I just needed to get this somewhat off my chest before it completely suffocated me.
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