a chill in my messy heart

I am trying so hard, to keep myself composed.  I am managing work - I'm settling back into routine, I'm remembering the parts that I like, patients say hello to me like they missed me - it's nice.  It's the quiet moments, or times when something silly happens - that I want to forget the promise I made to myself.

I want to contact John so badly.  I want to tell him about my days, I want to write about the amusing things that happen in my day and imagine that on the other side of the state, where he sits in front of his computer, that he is laughing. I want to speak with him so much; there's an ache in my chest, I think where my heart resides. It feels like a stone.

I did stay strong today.  I thought it might be a sobering act to re-read his response to the letter, the one where he lets me down. I'm not so sure that was a good idea.  It brought everything that I had been running from, right back to me - I was reminded of the upset, but it didn't make me want to talk to him any less.

I feel like screaming in my head - "EMAIL ME, CONTACT ME, DO SOMETHING" and that maybe if I did that, he might hear it within his own mind.  I wonder about a lot of things, but I wonder about this a lot.




SB xx

no words

I think I'm too tired to write anything tonight, but I received this picture in an email today and I thought it was beautiful and dark and sad, all at once.  Or perhaps that's just the way I feel at the moment.

SB xx

fabulous

SB xx

happiness in 11 words

To be happy, we must not be too concerned with others.
Albert Camus

SB xx

Art Class 1. 0. None

So, tonight was my first art class - kind of a stinking disaster of lead, charcoal and $1 paper, but I'll keep at it.  Turns out I'm not actually an artistic genius after all.  I have this real need for approval in the teacher/student relationship, and when I don't get it - I get frustrated and upset.  I guess essentially, I want to be special - and when I'm not, it hits hard.

Zoning out and not having my mind wander to work and normal life issues was nice though - that is definitely a positive.  I'm going to keep at it and keep practising.  I learnt tonight that I don't like fruit, or flowers as subject matter... but I'm sure I'll find something that inspires me.. more.

It was quite ridiculous actually.  I used an easel for the first time in my life - being right handed, my right hand was busy enough - but I had some difficulty finding occupation for my left hand.  At certain points, I would be seen with my left hand casually in my hoodie pocket, or at other times resting across my chest in a defensive "back off apple" stance, or even sitting atop my hip - angry mumma style. Must have looked quite silly!

I found a lovely quote on the back of a birthday card that I brought today.  May my head hit the pillow with similar sentiments.

Legends say that hummingbirds float free of time, carrying our hopes for love, joy and celebration.  The hummingbird's delicate grace reminds us that life is rich, beauty is everywhere, every personal connection has meaning and that laughter is life's sweetest creation.

Oh, to be a hummingbird - or better yet, to be a friend of one...

SB xx

Ms. Brightside

Today, this song just seems right.




Coming out of my cage
And I've been doin' just fine
Gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all
It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this?
It was only a kiss
It was only a kiss

Now I'm falling asleep
And she's calling a cab
While he's having a smoke
And she's taking a drag

Now they're going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head
But she's touching his chest now
He takes off her dress now
Let me go
And I just can't look
It's killing me
And taking control

Jealousy
Turning saints into the sea
Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibis
But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside...

SB xx

It Ain't Me Babe

Ok, so I'm listening to Bob Dylan right now, probably for the first time in my life. Love.

SB xx

Don't think twice, it's alright

Today I did some unexpected things.

I went to a local music store, and I brought a bunch of old albums - on a whim. Because I said yes to new music.

Then I took myself to the local art store, and enrolled myself in a drawing night class. Buggered if I know how to sketch with graphite pencils and charcoal, but I'm sure going to give it a try. I have procrastinated on doing something like this for the longest time, and even though it's not painting, like I had hoped to do - it was time to make things happen for myself. So I said yes to the possibilities of art.

Then, after my friend confirmed she wanted to come along, I went on my computer and booked us tickets to see a December performance of Gotye! So, that was a big fat yes to doing what I want, just because I can.

I realise I was wrong when I said travelling hadn't imprinted anything on me. I can see now, that I am less afraid of trying things, less intimidated to pack a suitcase and less frightened of public toilets - because I have seen the very worst of all of the above. I think I just want my life to keep moving. Keep momentum.

It is now around six weeks since I heard anything from John. I have not weakened, and I will not write first. I will not be the one to break this silence. Because as much as it saddens me that we can't share witty emails, or talk about work, or share photographs - I know that if I turn back to that pathetic girl, I will not recover. I've had my fair share of putting my arse on the line, so if he should want to talk to me, he's going to have to make the first move. Maybe he doesn't want to deal with me anymore, and I guess that's ok too. He's uncomfortable, I'm uncomfortable - maybe it's better this way. At some point, hell, maybe it's happened already, he will forget about me...and maybe some time ahead of me, he will be a passing memory that flashes through my conscious mind like a bird on the breeze.

Today, I was a yes girl. Tomorrow a maybe baby...maybe? Forever a what-if-er.

SB xx

The way it was

I probably use my quota of tissues all on Sunday nights, that's when I usually cry the most. I'm not sure what the others in the house are thinking, when they hear me blowing my snotty, clearly "crying" nose - I mean, you can muffle tears, but you can't really stifle the dripping, or rather, flowing nose - not for very long at least. Perhaps they have heard it long enough to not really listen or pay attention to it anymore - like the persistent cricket, hidden in a secret location, forever chirping - somehow you begin to ignore the sound, so that soon enough it's like it's not even there anymore. It has become background noise - and that's what I've become - background noise.

You get to a point where you start to think life can't really be like this, can it? But, it's not like we have anything else to really compare it to, do we? But I keep thinking to myself - in any case, I shouldn't be this way everyday, and I know, really I need to do something about it, for my own sanity - but then Monday sets in, and each day merges and melds into the next, and then before you know it you're back at the same spot, in the same pyjamas, having the same damn thoughts - only this time, writing them down for a change. Tell me; where do you go when you really have no where to go? What do you move onto, when you can't see anywhere else beyond this spot?

I think maybe everyone should have one shot in life to hit the rewind button - just once - a chance to undo what's done, and change something terrible, a bad choice - anything - but only once. Maybe this is all one crazy dream and sooner or later I'll wake up an 8 year old, getting ready for my first day back at school!

The beauty of life, is really, with all these interacting people, choices, lives crossing paths, that you just don't know what's going to be thrown at you next. Scary huh?

I hazard a guess, and say this was written by a much younger bird - perhaps when I was around 18. I stumbled upon it recently, written in a random notebook - there are many of these lying around the place. Funnily enough, even back then, writing it down did help. When I read over it now, I think to myself that sometimes I haven't come far - that I'm still that ultra confused teen who thinks too much and cries more often than she should; but, my logical mind knows that I am some distance from this girl - on most days. Back then, I knew the feelings, but I never had a name for them - for a very long time, I thought being down was a normal part of life - either that, or I was just cursed. It was some years after an entry like this was written that I came to acknowledge there was a problem bigger than a good weekend and the written word could fix - I saw a counsellor for a long time for my 'depression' and 'anxiety'.

Geez, I really hate that word 'depression' - it really undersells it. Oh, she's just a little depressed... Even now, I feel shame admitting it - it's such a dirty word. It's one of those things that once said out loud, cannot be taken back, people will treat you differently. I hate that.

I tell myself that some day in the future, when my life feels less rocky - when I find love, and I'm content, I will be 'better'.  Whatever that means. I hope that day comes.

SB xx

may I be guided by that which I admire

Some people are molded by their admiration, others by their hostilities.

Elizabeth Bowen

gratitude

Gratitude is the most exquisite form of courtesy.

Jacques Maritain (1882 - 1973)

tryin' to throw my arms around the world: Rome by day, Rome by night

17th August, 2011

We have a day to ourselves today, before our tour is due to start.  We walk the streets of Rome - and it is so hot and sticky.  My poor peaches and cream complexion takes on a permanent angry red colour - very attractive.

By day, Rome is just so hot.  Everyone you see has bottled water - but there are these most amazing aqueducts, all over the city and the water tastes outstanding and is ridiculously cool.  I'm in love with Rome just for this fact.  I'm not usually the type to drink water from the street - but our guide assures us it is safe; my cousin who has been here before, also confirms this - so I though, bugger it 'when in Rome'.. I never look back after my first taste.

While walking the sights we see our fair share of the 'gypsys'.  They can be intimidating and kind of scary - but I get good at spotting them, and really good at saying assertively "NO, grazie!".  I secretly love that I can say that, without seeming like a complete knob. And there are just so many people everywhere, that gypsy dodging can get quite difficult - but I suppose it works in our favour that there are plenty of potential customers for them to hassle.

A lot of places that we go to, have these little mini-markets set up, with all these glorious portraits, sketches and paintings - real talent.  And I wonder if perhaps Rome has a lot of art school drop outs.  Seriously, if I had the room in my luggage, I would've gone crazy!

Other note able happenings from the day - more lovely gelato, and paying five euros for 330ml of coca-cola - ouch, and, never again.

That same night, we go for a walking tour with our newly met tour leader.  We see some of the same sights, however they take on an entirely different vibe as they are bathed in the warm light of the setting sun.  It is dark by time we reach the Pantheon.  I notice over by the building that there are some candles and a little alter set up.  It intrigues me, so I get closer to see what it's about.  I find a Tibetan monk - chanting.  There is a female companion seated next to him, a picture of the Dalai Lama and candles lit on the ground  forming the words 'SAVE TIBET'.  A westerner lady, who I assume is perhaps an escort to the monk starts to explain to some of us what this display is about.  The monk is praying for a fellow brother who took his own life days earlier.  She goes on to explain the monks have been living in very poor conditions since the Dalai Lama's birthday.  The monks celebrated this occasion, against the will of the Chinese government - so they had been punished, with all utilities like gas, water and electricity being cut off.  It was such a strain on some of the monks that, unfortunately some started to take their own lives - in defiance, or desperation.  This particular monk who was being remembered, had set himself on fire.  I just remember thinking how awful - that governments can do this - not be accountable - not care. The westerner lady said we as people have the power to change this, but people have to want to do it.  I wish I had been able to understand what the monk was saying. It was special to see, but sad to be reminded that a difference of opinion can have such dire consequences.

SB xx

groupLOVE

Oh yes please, nice and loud.

SB xx

nose meets grindstone

It was my first day back at work today, after five weeks of leave. Suffice to say, it was horrid. I felt like a child, facing a new year of school.  I felt like this:

I had a particularly rough night last night.  And by rough, I mean emotionally charged. It was everything and nothing - the real and the imagined that started it all - and once the ball got rolling, oh was it messy.  I'm still feeling very delicate.  I think without the distraction of an impending adventure, my mind allowed itself to sink back to reality - the John stuff settled... and, it didn't really help that I tried to check out things via that e-vil facebook... I remembered that I'm unhappy at my workplace, I'm actually pretty unhappy with my life.  I tried to write it down, in the hope that it would help - I'm not going to post it, because it's too messy, nonsensical and kind of verging on the suicidal.  Eeek. I scared myself a little.  I think it's hormones gone wild. I hope that's all it is.

I went through a really terrible period when I hit high school.  I never had an issue with the work, it was the kids, the change, the new system; then, I started to get teased, by one really persistent kid.  It got so bad - I cried myself into submission every week day and night, making myself physically sick because of it all.  At the time we had these really close family friends, who we would pretty much do something with every weekend - and it was those limited weekend hours that got me through each week.  It was only in the company of this family, that I felt truly safe - protected.  Last night I got a taste of that ill-worry again, and it was frightening.  Except now, I don't really have a distraction.

So, today I put on a pair of my big hoop earrings (because I always feel more powerful when wearing hoops) and I found the biggest, blood-red hair flower I have in my arsenal of hair accessories - and I crowned myself with it.  I needed more than hoops and flower-power... but these things always help, a little.

I wanted to look like this:

To save myself from this:

And this:

So, I survived day one. I'm not sure I have a big enough flower to see me through the rest of the week. I guess time will tell. Right now I just know I am so grateful to be home.

SB xx

about face

Facebook shits me to tears! Sometimes I wonder why I am even on there - and then I remember the power of the Facebook stalk, and it keeps me hooked. BUT, my utilisation of this electronic popularity contest is beside the point.  My point is, Facebook enables stupid people - and while I'm all for equal rights - however, stupidity, the kind that you see on Facebook is highly offensive!

I've come up with some simple rules and guidelines, that I wish the world would take note of.

1) There shall be no abbreviations - ever. No LOL, OMG, OMFG, TGIF, CU.  I abhor these, and will have none of it. If it is a thought worth declaring publicly, then write it out in full form.

2) Thou shall learn the difference between there/their/they're and use these accordingly.  It's really not that difficult.

3) Learn to spell - for God's sake.  It frightens me that everyone under the age of say 22, are seemingly illiterate.  These people will be in charge of important shit someday.

4) We all know that the Facebook 'friend' is a term that is used very loosely - however don't be one of these people that request or accept someone, only to dump them months down the road. It's rude, plus it kind of sucks balls for the person who is being dumped. So, 'accept' wisely y'all.

I just need to believe that there is some intelligence and good taste left in the world.

SB xx

just let go

Some mornings, it's like my shuffling ipod just knows...



SB xx

the things we do to get by

When I left the house this morning, I felt good. I was driving my car down familiar streets; wearing nice clean clothes; my eye makeup worked out well; the day sunny - but warming, not hot; I was playing a corny song about it being a good life - up nice and loud, just the way I like my music; and just in that moment I felt ok. I didn't have to worry about normal life today; it was my day to do whatever I wanted. The feeling was fleeting, but that's what we expect.

I went to the gym, like a 'normal' person - thoughts wandered of course, they always do when it's me and a treadmill - no matter what music is playing in my ears. It must be something to do with the walking - my mind wants to be getting somewhere, even if it is confined to my head.

Of course, I think about him and those things more than I should, more than I want to. When I heard that his ex, (and my personal painful memory on legs) was coming back I wanted to cry and run and throw up - all at once.

I am now resorting to the world of imagination. If I pretend it doesn't bother me; if I pretend that I don't care and if I pretend that I am ok, about everything, the letter, his retort, my now apparent excommunication - then maybe, just maybe some of the 'ok' will stick. Like osmosis or gravity or something as equally mystical and scientific.

If I am not pretending, then I am wallowing - and that is pointless. And maybe it's starting to work; because sometimes I see there are things beyond it.

Yesterday I thought to myself that I just didn't want to be alive anymore (not because of the stupid boy, but because of everything accumulated) and today I think, maybe I will be ok. Because I recognise that there are a few, but fabulous and inspiring people in the world - and there are also little people in my world - who love me - just 'cause, and they depend on me - even if it's just to make cordial or build play fences for them. That's all I have right now, but I think it's special.

This is the life cycle of a StrangeBird. So many seasons have played out like this.  When is it going to change, I wonder.  If I imagine that everyday I am on the cusp of great change, surely it will come eventually.

And then, there are songs like these. Get over your hill and see...



SB xx

tryin' to throw my arms around the world: si pronto Roma!

16th August, 2011

Arriving at Rome airport - I was overwhelmed by the heat, and underwhelmed by the general casual atmosphere of the facility. The man checking passports gave me a half-assed effort of a stamp, which bothered me - because, hey - how many times in my life am I going to enter Rome, Italy?!

Finally we were met by our transfer driver - he was a kind, blue eyed man with a firm handshake, but no name. He drove us from the airport to our hotel - much of the ride, he drove one handed while juggling calls from two separate mobile phones - it was utterly ridiculous! The driving immediately struck me - I couldn't believe the way people were on the roads - every second of every ride, you felt as if you were on the verge of an accident - there are some lights and signs and road markings, but no one seems to obey! Our nameless driver gave us lessons in Rome, and the language - I wished I had the ability to converse with him properly. He was lovely.

Another thing I noticed about Rome, is that there is a lot of dog love - there were dogs everywhere, even at the airport. People were openly affectionate with them, one lady picked up her small dog in the airport terminal, kissed him exclaiming "ciao! ciao! ciao!" - as you would a baby. Fantastic!

I found Rome to be full of good looking, confident people - all of them oozing glamour, even if all they were doing was sitting there eating an ice cream.  It was incredible; whatever they do, it is done in such a way that you feel like you are in the presence of greatness. What power.

Another thing I loved, that no matter what the context, the people talking in Italian all behave as if they are having an extraordinary time - it seems fun - hands are flying, faces full of expression and intensity - I just wanted to be a part of it!

When I arrived in the hotel, I paced the floor for the longest time, all the while in my head repeating - "I can't believe I'm in Rome.. I can't believe I'm in Rome".  I couldn't tell you how many times I looked out the window to check.  My view was nothing particularly spectacular, nothing obviously 'Rome' - I could have been anywhere... but I was in Rome.

SB xx

born to run

You can out-distance that which is running after you, but not what is running inside you. (Rwandan Proverb)

I fear there is something ugly and tenacious inside of me.

SB xx

I will always try to fix you

The performance of this song can be distracting - but when you read the words, you remember what beautiful sentiment can be found here. I'm not the kind to give up trying to fix someone I love - so it makes me sad to realise there so few people in the world who would do the same.

'Fix you' by Coldplay:

When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

High up above or down below
when you're too in love to let it go
but If you never try you'll never know
Just what your worth

Lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears streaming down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears streaming down your face and I
Tears streaming down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face and I

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

SB xx

Crash landing

My feet met solid ground once again early Thursday morning. It was quite a dramatic affair - I'd been quite ill days before my departure, and boarded my hellish 11 hour flight still feeling beaten. Upon arrival, I learned my luggage had been left behind, then I was told I had missed my nieces birth by mere hours. I was incredibly upset - everything had taken its toll. And I still had to face a six hour drive before I was really home. Anyone present in that airport terminal, with the time to watch, would've had a curious set of observations about me.

Emotions have settled now, although all the experiences and the memories I have from my time away are trying to reconcile and find space in my head. I'm still not altogether 'together' - I think perhaps I have 'life-lag'. Maybe I have had this all my life. Getting back, after almost four weeks away has been strange. It is my life, I recognise it, but I'm having trouble fitting into the same space. Or wanting to fit into the same space. Routines aren't so familiar.

It's hard to summarise my trip. Yes, I had a good time - I saw some amazing things; but me, being the thinker than I am, can't help but feel I am walking away with more questions than answers. I guess that's what happens when you go on set tours. We were taken places, and then quickly moved on - for me, it kind of felt like I didn't have time to absorb what I was doing, what I was seeing - I feel like I looked into the window, but I never really went in. Everything became such a blur, markets started to look the same, names and hotels became confused in my mind - as quickly as my suitcase landed in one place, it was being packed and whisked off to another. It is the nature of the beast I suppose.

And people, so many people, everywhere, all the time. I found myself wishing all these fucking tourists would just go away, so I had some room to breathe. I seemed to forget I was one of those tourists, perhaps just not as vicious (I'd like to think).

This trip tested me in many ways, but it did not deliver what I thought. Everyone talks about travelling broadening your horizon - I think, in my case, it magnified that which was already in my sights. I didn't learn the secrets of life, I didn't come away loving or understanding myself better, I didn't learn more about compassion or tolerance, I didn't even get the holiday romance that I'd hoped for! I'm still lost, it's just that now I recognise my surroundings a little better.

I guess, as has been said - sometimes the meaning of life can be found in your own backyard. I learnt that this bird was not made to fly...or sail. I am not a woman of the world...I am a woman of Australia, of the land; of small things, big silences and profound gestures. I realise that I don't want to be where everyone else is, I want to be where my heart leads me - down forgotten tracks and quiet places, with special people...or a special someone.

A slap on my wrist for doing so, but my mind turned to John often; whenever I thought about being somewhere low key with someone who 'got' me, I imagined it was him. Shame on me.

I am glad to be home, and glad to be in my electronic home too - where I feel safe to say what I feel and follow journeys of different kinds.

SB xx

Of all the things I've missed

I'm home, and amongst other obvious things that I have missed - music was a big one.  I couldn't wait to get the new Gotye album 'Making Mirrors' - I have many favourites, and this is one.

When I have semi-collected my thoughts, I'll be back.

SB xx