Jason and the Argyle Knit Socks

It's weird coming home for the holidays. When I am around people I haven't seen in years, I behave the way I was back then. And so do they. I'm not sure why I do it. Maybe it's easier to just fall into old habits then take the risk that you might not like the new versions of each other? Or maybe it's just easier to not make the effort. I've grown and changed a lot in the past few years, but when I'm back in Halifax, it's hard not to act like the old me, and it's unnerving as fuck. So I come home less and less often. I like the new Joey more. I look better naked now, for instance. I don't know how that happened. Maybe nobody looks good naked until they leave their home town. Or anyway maybe it's hard to believe you look good naked until you get away. Maybe it gets easier to believe once you go somewhere new and you get to be who you are, instead of who you had to be in order to get by where you were.

HEY FUCK YOU JOEY COMEAU
FUCK YOU FOR SUMMING UP MY ENTIRE WEEK OF WRITING IN A PARAGRAPH
ONE DAY I WILL EAT YOUR HEART AND GAIN YOUR POWERS

I think everyone feels this, at least a little, and I think that that is important and we should maybe sit up and pay attention to it.
It is that kind of thing that people can get behind when somebody writes about it, and it's the only reason dumb groups like "I TURN MY PILLOW OVER TO GET TO THE COLD SIDE WHEN I SLEEP" exist on Le Facebook.
People want to hear about how everybody in the world does the quirky unique thing that they thought only they did, because it vindicates them from feeling bad about who they are.
Because if they share so many weird little quirks, they surely must share at least a few of the big flaws.

Basically what I'm trying to say is I'm not the only one who pretends to be throwing fireballs when I sneeze.