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Prologue
Sunday, January 8, 2012

I have changed so much; one would anticipate that I am be capable of writing of the many ways, but I am becoming aware that the more intimate, precious things in our heart are the hardest things to communicate with others. This started when I went overseas and reunited with a dear friend. I think that the presence of my friend, who is like family to me, allowed me to feel so at home in England that it felt as though I was living there for too short of a time; not a visiting tourist. Upon my return to Canada, I essentially regenerated [refer to Doctor Who]. My tastes in movies, tv shows, clothes, food and (some) friends changed. I now know that I am a citizen of the world and I am Pamela, this is my globe. It seems that I have been programmed to use certain English words and phrases without even thinking about it; I don't mind this but do worry about confusing others.( I assume that "toilet" is quite offputting for those who speak North American English.)

I am writing this post as a prologue to my next entry, but it may not give you any context. Above is the first piece of poetry that has been extracted from my heart.

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