Late Bloomer.

by Nic Olson

I’m here again. Physically and mentally. 

Physically, I’m back in Yellowknife. A place that I have been before, twice, and after the second time I almost said, “I will never go back there.” I don’t know why I almost said this, probably just so I could add another city to my most hated list. But I like it here. Constant daylight, expensive goods, no easy way out. Somewhat like prison. I went to prison for the first time today. Seems like a nice place to spend 25 to life.
Mentally, I’m back in the same place. I guess I never left this place, but it feels like I’m just returning back. At times I feel like I’m ten times more ‘mature’ than everyone else, but then I reach this place where I feel like I’m five years behind everyone else. A place where Twitters and books of faces and small pieces of plastic ruin the ways of communication. A place where things are more important than experiences or real good times. A place where planning the unknown future is of utmost importance, even though our ideas of it don’t matter one damn bit. 
Screw everyone else. I’ll freeload and be homeless until I die, as long as it means I keep my soul. I’ll bloom late as long as I am not the one brutally deflowered by the world’s giant dong of a mindset. But I can’t help but want to give in.