Trouble been doggin' my soul since the day I was born

I'm retiring to the comforts of my bed earlier than usual tonight. There is a chill in me that I cannot warm, and I just want to remove myself from waking existence right now.

Oh, it's not all that bad. Work is just kind of crappy at the moment, and I'm doing my best; I'm trying to be flexible and understanding and calm - but some days it takes all of my patience just to show up to work. There are just loads of really stupid people in the world, and selfish ones too. Perhaps someday I will get to the point of sympathising for the stupid... but right now, the overwhelming emotion I feel is frustration.  I think I will always expect more from humanity than I will ever get. Supply is not meeting demand. I know I demand too much. I demand too much of myself sometimes, and certainly I can expect too much from others.

I haven't heard from John in almost two months I think. I have made a conscious effort to leave it be. Even fighting my own fleeting impulses of loneliness to write just 'one more email'. As difficult as it is to admit, I accept that I'm just not a priority - I simply can't be. But, it's ok, because he has made that point pretty clear. I did send him a Christmas card of sorts yesterday though, with a small novelty gift. No, I'm not being pathetic... at least I don't mean to be. I found this gift months ago and had always intended it for him. I got to the point where I just wanted it gone from sight. So, I say now, with complete honesty, that I am not invested in any particular outcome from this card and gift - John will do what John does, and I will continue to move in some semblance of a forward direction. A male coworker joked today that denial is a man's go to strategy for everything that happens. It's an interesting insight. If I were a boy...

I think I dreamt last night that I was getting married. No clue as to the identity of the groom. I wonder if it was wishful thinking or perhaps a side effect of helping a co-worker design her 'save the date' card. The intoxicating feeling of being 'wanted' in my dream is the part that lingers with some intensity. Dare to dream, dare to wake.

SB xx

I'd buy the book

I owe my success to having listened respectfully to the very best advice, and then going away and doing the exact opposite.
Gilbert K. Chesterton

Thing I like most about Gilbert K. Chesterton: he has a certain "I don't give a rats" air about him.

SB xx

you've got to get mad!

I don't know.
SB xx

early break

Waiting 11 months for a chance at 31 single days to listen to Christmas music seems, unfair. No, I don't prance around in knitted clothing items sporting Santa's head, nor do I dress my car up to look like Rudolph (yes, some people actually do that)... but, ok, I admit it, I like to listen to Christmas music. Why? Because it reminds me that an exciting day is coming.  Because even when the temperature outside hits 43 in the shade, I can still hear songs about snow and it makes me feel better.

It's kind of the unwritten rule that you don't partake in anything Christmas-celebration related until after December 1st - but I've found myself some funky new music and I really, really want to try it out. 

Soooo - I'm gonna!

How can it bad luck to do something that makes you even a little happy?

One album I'm particularly excited about is:

Right now, I'm two songs closer to my condemnation to hell - it's fun and folksy, so who cares!  Another great find from last year was the O.C mix "Have a Very Merry Chrismukkah".  Forget about it being from a TV show, it's actually an awesome collection of non-obvious Christmas songs - alternative, if you will.  If there's a collection of non-poxy Christmas songs - I'll find it.

Let me just be very clear about this; there will never be any Bieber. Ever. I don't care how merry his Christmas may be.

SB xx

Can't believe I just wrote a post on Christmas music.

Hmm.. spell check picks up that 'Rudolph' should be capitalised, but does not recognise Bieber... it's a win for humanity.

Enter, YouTube

The night gets sadder.

SB xx

From a whimper to a plead

I'm home alone; just me and Fleetwood Mac. Never going back again - that's me... I hope. The only thing that would make this Friday night even more tragic is a terribly sentimental/romantic/dramatic movie on the telly. What do you know...one just jumped into the DVD player. Wait, did I mention I'm also in my pajamas?

Wahhh get me some tissues!

SB xx

oh well

She's just a bit fantastic, no?

SB xx

some people are real problems

Going by today's experiences - I say with complete confidence, that upon waking this morning, approximately 30% of the worlds people decided they were going to be assholes today.

Lets see - there was the nurse who tore strips off me for interrupting her break to provide her with some handover, for, lets see - HER PATIENT. I accept you might be overworked lady, but you know what? I'm not the one you need to get angry at. And I accept I probably don't factor very highly on your 'people that matter' mental list - but how about some decency for a fellow human, who by all accounts has always been, at the very least, courteous to you?

Then there was the guy on the phone who not so eloquently expressed his desire not to be seen at my workplace anymore.  I'm sorry jerk-face, did our messages concerning YOUR HEALTH throw you into a state of agitation?  You know what agitates me? When I have to waste ridiculous amounts of time and resources chasing wankers like yourself around, all because you can't be assed responding to voice message number one.

You know what else shitty people - it's Monday for me too.  I didn't sleep that well the last couple of nights, I'm fighting an internal battle with sputum and I generally don't want to be at work most days. But I still conduct myself with some manner of professionalism - I smile when I answer the phone, I'm helpful and polite even when given cause not to be - this is all actually part of being an adult. A semi-functioning, adult human being.

On days like these, it pays to remember that some people have real problems.

SB xx

oh the drums...

SB xx

woman of letters: to my twelve year old self

In homage to the brilliant movement that is Women of Letters and because I am thoroughly enjoying the newly released book, I decided that I too, would pen some letters of my own...


Hiya Little Bird,
If I know you, you're probably flipping out about this whole 'letter from the future' thing - but I'm going to need you to calm down, ok? You are not going make the world fold onto itself and disappear into a black hole by reading on. Trust me. Trust yourself - always, but especially now.

So, you're 12.  I know right now things are ticking along better than ever. You're head girl (YAY us!) at school, you scored the most awesome year seven teacher in Mr Jones - he's preparing you well for high school, so take it all in, and things are just generally pretty cool.  Anyone who's anyone is wearing a bra now, so there's no need to be all self conscious anymore.  Actually, you should know - that right now you are at your confidence prime. You-me - we will never feel so good about ourselves again - so hang onto that feeling, and preserve it for as long as you can - when you lose it, it really hurts.

I'm not going to tell you everything - but I do want to give you some tips that I think might help us both out... and perhaps save us from two years of counselling with our lovely, well meaning Psychologist Judy.

I know you are starting to freak out about high school.  I need to tell you, that it's actually going to be ok.  You shouldn't worry - that's a bad habit of ours Little Bird, and you need to cut it out - it gets us nowhere. Anyway, high school - in all the ways you think matter - will be fine.  You will have friends around you, you will not be given a 'royal flush' like cousin Jason says you will; as for the work - you handle it just fine. We're book smart, remember.

There is one little teeny thing that happens, that makes life hell for, well, I'm not going to lie - a long while. So, if you can try to avoid this little something - it would be most advantageous (look it up in the dictionary) for us both. 

Next year, one of the bullshit classes we have to endure is 'Outdoor Ed' - the 'teacher' is one of those horrid P.E. teachers (you know how we feel about them). Anyway, during the course of one of the classes, you will be out walking with the group, down by the dam near home - and you will be told to cross the dam by balancing on a pole that runs across the edge. DON'T DO IT Little Bird; fake an asthma attack - run off, whatever you have to do - just don't do it!  When I did it, I fell in - and then we spent the next year or so, dodging vicious taunting from that ADD asshole kid Lucas, and his followers. I suspect this one incident changes the course of our high school experience, and it gives us a real battering; so if you can avoid it - I think we'll turn out less damaged. Of course, every P.E. teacher is an asshole - so you'll always have to watch out for them.

Also - try not to attend school on Valentines Day in year eight.  Matty D gets an anonymous card that one shithead, mediocre handwriting analyst decides is written by you, and everyone gets stuck into you about it.

Hmm... when Danny one-nut (you'll hear the story when the time is right) approaches you on behalf of Blake to ask you out - don't have such a violent reaction, and maybe say yes... just a thought.

Oh, and maybe don't wear our new eight-hole cherry Dr Martens to Founders Day - they get totally scratched up.. it's heartbreaking really.  On second thoughts, it's possibly the cred from the Dr Martens that leads to Blake's (via Danny one-nut) proposition.  Your choice. If you do decide to wear them - Jesus Christ, wear two pairs of socks - those blisters hurt like you wouldn't believe.

Last of all - I just want to tell you not to worry so much about everything - it absolutely doesn't help. I promise you that the stress and the tears are not worth it.  Secondly, you don't always have to be perfect - remember that most of all. When you get to year 12, you let the looming TEE score rule you way too much - it is not the be-all and end-all that you think it's going to be.  On a side note, we get 89.85 - that's a pretty fucking good score. Which, we evidently don't make use of anyway (but that's a whole other letter... and a whole lot more counselling). Remember, remember, Mum and Dad just want to see you happy.  Be happy and the rest will follow.

Oh yeah, don't stop learning flute after year eight - we are actually pretty good at it.  Oh, better still, maybe when you pick your instrument - try to swing percussion instead - you know how much we want to play drums!

And... I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not, but when you and April end up at the train station after a Saturday morning shopping spree - maybe it wouldn't hurt to try a puff of her joint?

Be happy Little Bird, and be yourself.  Not much can go wrong that way.

Love me.

SB xx

right, said

In the day
In the night
Say it right
Say it all
You either got it
Or you don't
You either stand
Or you fall
When your will
Is broken
When it slips
From your hand
When there's no
Time for joking
There's a hole
In my plan

Oh you don't mean nothing at all to me
No you don't mean nothing at all to me
But you got what it takes to set me free
Oh you could mean everything to me

This version is lovely - it lends you time to hear the words. It suits my mood tonight; I am sad and upset - and not even I want to know why.

SB xx

**the good stuff begins at 3mins 2seconds

corby love

Oh, yes.

SB xx

shout out to paul #3

And so, my love affair with dark-haired, fair-eyed men continues.  The lovely Paul Dempsey, whose music strangely didn't interest me until he did his solo stuff. With such disarming eyes, it hardly seems fair he is doubly blessed with that voice - strong, yet smooth - like audible leather.

SB xx

how my heart behaves

The cold heart will burst
If mistrusted first
And a calm heart will break
When given a shake
(Feist - how my heart behaves)

I had a rather strange and disturbing dream last night that I haven't really been able to shake all day.  It was completely of the imagined - none of the sequencing made sense, the environments, the motives - all born of strange and wanting... and it kind of felt like a warning, or a message - I don't know.

It starts in the middle of a scene where I am talking to my father - we are expecting the arrival of John.  John's maybe Grandfather has just passed away and John is coming perhaps from the funeral to see me? Why, I don't know. My father says to me (as if referencing an earlier conversation in the dream-reality) "now I know you said you aren't really looking for anybody at the moment - but you said you have a maybe someone in mind... I hope it's not him you have in mind" (speaking of John).  I start to question my father - "why, want do you mean" - he just smirks and shrugs his shoulders as if to say, you are heading for trouble and I cannot pull you away, so I must ride it out with you. We are interrupted by John's arrival - he is dressed in black pants and white shirt - he is cold and does not respond to me when I say hello.

We (my father, John and I) drive to some weird little country town - it's now pitch black as we drive.  The car is mostly silent - I feel John is seething with anger towards me, and while I am worried, my overwhelming emotion is the excitement that he is here. He speaks with my father - no one talks to me. I am preoccupied with making it to work on time.

We arrive and fashion some kind of bush breakfast - we eat together - day dawns and John and I are left alone.  I don't remember what we talk about - there isn't a lot of talking, he still seems angry at me.  Then, it's all a little hazy - but he warms to me and asks me to dance (like, slow dance) - in the middle of nowhere, to no music. I'm concerned about the no music thing, but he insists.  I think this is where the dream ends.

When I write it back like that, all fragmented, I realise how ridiculous it all sounds. It just comes at a really poor time.  I was starting to feel that maybe I'd come to terms with everything.  I haven't heard from him in a few weeks, I haven't made contact with him in a couple.  I resigned myself to the idea that I would not contact him anymore - unless it's in response to him contacting me. Then I have this dream, and it's all weird in my head and I don't know what to make of it.

Subconscious, what are you trying to say?

SB xx

love ghosts

True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen. 
- Francois De La Rochefoucauld

SB xx

Desperately seeking

I am looking for something I cannot name. Something is missing. I have flaming red portions of wild hair (that I suspect is kicking my arse and 'wearing' me), popping orange toenails and still I'm looking for some kind of colour in my sepia-tone existence.

What the hell is wrong with me?

SB xx

always the meat

I feel like I'm the meat in the sandwich that is my family.  I'm not saying here that I'm the standout element in this equation - what I am saying, is that I'm the one who carries the condiments and seasonings - and as 'meat' everyone always expects you...to be there...in the 'sandwich'.  Actually, I don't know what I'm trying to say anymore. It's just sometimes I think I lose myself in the midst of other peoples dramas.

Case in point... Sunday morning - I am charged with taking most excellent photos of my niece and nephew for this years Christmas card distribution.  No pressure or anything. What do I have to work with? 1 x 3.4 year old male; 1 x 9week old female. In addition 1 x highly strung mother of said children. Farrrrk!

I might also mention, at this point, that I myself am in mid-battle with a summer cold. Patience is well and truly compromised.

So, to begin with - it's the boy. Single shots, then we try for a group shot. Yep, he's sitting.. finally, hold the sheet up Mum - UP UP!... ok smile... say cheese... c'mon - moon cheese!! Nope, he's too interested in checking himself out in the mirrored door....fuck me (internal voice)... ok, stop looking at yourself in the mirror - look at me... AT ME!.. look, what's in the circle - can you see anything?STOP.LOOKING.AT.YOURSELF.IN.THE.MIRROR... Open the freaking door - whoops, boys Mum has just relieved door of it's uppermost hinge, excellent (internal voice) - everyone just calm down... smile, smile, c'mon! Introduce silly prop yep, he likes it - except he's still not looking at me. Change of location; ok, lets go to the lounge chair.. eye contact, light's a little trickier... goddammit, now all he wants is the prop - give him the prop be careful... be careful you're going to break it! Ok, smile.. smile for Santa... smile for me....smile for the person who invented  wet wipes - just SMILE AT ME!!! (internal voice). Ok - now the baby. Baby is topped up with S-26's finest vintage - she's always happy after a feed I'm told.

Baby assumes supine position.. in a circle of Christmas lights... Grandma is waving a pink doll in and out of the viewfinder, above my head and back around again - makes focusing a little difficult (internal voice)... hmmm, baby not so open to cuing...Mum, get out of the light.. can you move her.. there.. no there.... fuck (internal voice). Right, baby's Mum get out, take the boy with you - it's too much, I can't handle it... I'll call you back when I need you. Baby's crying - fuck, she scratched her arm on the lights (internal voice) now she's really crying.  I pick her up - oh munchkin, I'm sorry, it's ok - bouncy, bouncy - SPEW... chunky, smelly spew at the top of my shoulder where my low cut top meets my skin fuck, we have major seepage here (internal voice). Grandma sorts the baby, I disinfect my upper right torso... away we go again. Baby holds still, some nice natural shots. Ok - bring the boy.

Boy enters, boys mother enters - not with that biscuit you don't - PUT-IT-DOWN (not me)
Boy does not cease or desist - that's it, no photos then - get out, go outside with your father (not me)
Mother escorts boy outside - boy mid tantrum slams door - ahhhh - oh my God! You just smashed my head in the door; he just smashed the door into my head!!! (not me)
Boy's upset - put the biscuit down for a moment, you can have it later - come on! (not me)
Boy continues to clench crumbling biscuit in hand, in defiance - that's it then - no photos (not me)
C'mon - we don't have biscuits in the photos (me)
Boy sits eventually - carefully place baby into boy's hands - single bad shot taken - baby cries. Boy wants prop. Prop not appropriate for baby and boy together.  Tears, screaming. THAT'S IT - I've had enough - no more, I'm done, pack up... I cannot handle any more of this (all me... all external voice).

It didn't end there - my nephew got himself stuck into some kind of tantrum continuum - he's up, he's down, he's crying, he's screaming, he's up, he's down... fuck the circle of life Simba - this shit is incredible.

The story ends when my brother-in-law drags my nephew to the car (kicking and screaming - this is not a literary exaggeration) and they go home.

By 11am on a Sunday morning, I was wishing I hadn't woken up. I felt angry with myself, guilty for maybe inciting the violent behaviour - I just felt shit really. As the meat, I fried. And I continue to cook today.

I am learning slowly, that logic is not a weapon or any kind of defence with children.  They just don't listen, they don't care if it makes sense - how can you compete with that kind of belief system - you can't!

Worst of all - my nephew is at the golden age, where he can recall the things you said to him, with emotion - at moments designed to deliver the hardest of punches.  Today, he recalls me telling him that he wasn't listening... I didn't get a photo because you said I wasn't listening.

So, this is where it starts.

SB xx

shout out to paul #2

A shout out to another hottie Paul of the past - this time, Paul Newman. It may be that he reminds me of John with his stunning bright eyes and charming smile - but there's no denying he once had 'it' going on!

Before his weathered face was gracing salad dressing bottles, he looked like this...

I bet he was trouble. Yowwwww!!

SB xx

head in heaven, fingers in the mire

Oh boy, I had forgotten what lyrical genius' the boys from U2 were.  You might not like the band or care for its members, but there is simply no denying that the way they can manipulate the tools of our language to make this - is nothing short of magical. They narrate our emotions and paint pictures with our memories. This is another song from the celebrated album, Achtung Baby, called 'so cruel'. Love.

We crossed the line
Who pushed who over
It doesn't matter to you
It matters to me
We're cut adrift
We're still floating
I'm only hanging on
To watch you go down
My love

I disappeared in you
You disappeared from me
I gave you everything you ever wanted
It wasn't what you wanted

The men who love you, you hate the most
They pass through you like a ghost
They look for you but your spirit is in the air
Baby, you're nowhere

Oh...love...you say in love there are no rules
Oh...love...sweetheart...
You're so cruel

Desperation is a tender trap
It gets you every time
You put your lips to her lips
To stop the lie

Her skin is pale like God's only dove
Screams like an angel for your love
Then she makes you watch her from above
And you need her like a drug

Oh...love...you say in love there are no rules
Oh...love...sweetheart...
You're so cruel

She wears my love like a see-through dress
Her lips say one thing
Her movements something else
Oh love...like a screaming flower
Love...dying every hour...love

You don't know if it's fear or desire
Danger the drug that takes you higher
Head in heaven, fingers in the mire
Her heart is racing, you can't keep up
The night is bleeding like a cut
Between the horses of love and lust
We are trampled underfoot

Oh...love...you say in love there are no rules
Oh...love...sweetheart...
You're so cruel

Oh...love...to stay with you I'd be a fool
Sweetheart...you're so cruel

SB xx

the tree, and me

The hunt for the perfect picture of 'my' jacaranda tree began here. I continued my pursuit last week, with an attempt at a late sunset picture.  It was an exercise in futility; and while the photo didn't work as I had hoped - a little play with my friend photoshop, and I created a sort of 'dream' image (minus the power lines, which I really wish I had cloned out!).

I will be back for a sunrise picture - but that is going to involve a very early start for me.  The things we do....

SB xx

the science of things

Good things are worth waiting for.
Great things are worth suffering for.

This comes from a facebook status of all things (I know, spew) so I can't claim it as my own. I'd like to think it's true though. Might come to be a comforting thought someday.

SB xx

shout out to paul

Paul Hewson (a.k.a Bono) was one of the original front men to capture my heart and imagination. Before his obscure fascination with rimless glasses, and wearing them, like, all the time - he was delightful!  If I could find myself a Bono-circa-1990-look like...I would be a very happy brown eyed girl to his blue eyed boy.

Yikes! It's almost too much to take.

SB xx

Achtung

I can't believe it's been twenty years since U2 came out with their mega-awesome album "Achtung Baby".  As I relive it now, I am reminded of just how freakin' fantastic these lyrics are - ahhhh - it's just pure brilliance.  Let us not forget, that it was also around the time this album was born, that Bono was in his hotness prime!




You're dangerous 'cause you're honest
You're dangerous, you don't know what you want
Well you left my heart empty as a vacant lot
For any spirit to haunt

Hey hey sha la la
Hey hey

You're an accident waiting to happen
You're a piece of glass left in a beach
Well you tell me things I know you're not supposed to
Then you leave me just out of reach

Hey hey sha la la
Hey hey sha la la

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna drown in your blue sea
Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna fall at the foot of thee

Well you stole it 'cause I needed the cash
And you killed it 'cause I wanted revenge
Well you lied to me 'cause I asked you to
Baby, can we still be friends

Hey hey sha la la
Hey hey sha la la

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna drown in your blue sea
Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna fall at the foot of thee

Oh, the deeper I spin
Oh, the hunter will sin for your ivory skin
Took a drive in the dirty rain
To a place where the wind calls your name
Under the trees the river laughing at you and me
Hallelujah, heavens white rose
The doors you open
I just can't close
Don't turn around, don't turn around again
Don't turn around, your gypsy heart
Don't turn around, don't turn around again
Don't turn around, and don't look back
Come on now love, don't you look back
Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna drown in your blue sea
Who's gonna taste your salt water kisses
Who's gonna take the place of me
Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna tame the heart of thee

Brilliance in leather pants!

SB xx

Settle

The upheaval is over. I had my clinic appointment today, which lasted all of twenty minutes.  The lady had a poke at my chest, basically said "why are you here 28 year old - be gone!".  I felt like such a silly little girl.  You know, we put our lives in other peoples hands - these 'specialists' - they could use a unit or two on, I don't know; empathy or maybe filtering their thoughts.  Thank you General Practitioner - again.  But, I mustn't lose what is at the heart of this - and that is - the lump is ok.

I want to use this as an opportunity to change my outlook - I know, another one?! I don't want to be sad anymore, or bitter. I don't want to find fault so easily.  Perhaps it has been this extended time away from work - but I realise that I just don't like the person I turn into when I am there. Some of us were discussing my absent boss at work the other day - and it was far too easy for me to slip back into that wounded-bitch-mode again. I'd be lying if I said I had forgiven her for what has passed, but I do not want to hang onto all of this - this hate (?), so tightly that it starts to smother me; become me. It's not who I am; more importantly, it's not who I want to be. Despite all my hard work over the past three years and eleven months, all people remember of me is that stupid email - they don't know what drove me to it, and they don't want to try and understand - I can't make them understand, and it's time to accept that. I am going to try, with all my might to just let go. Be fluid to the challenges I face.  If my seconded boss comes back, I deal with it. I suspect the time for me to be gracious has about expired - but I want to make up for that as best I can. Leading ladies come out on top, and that's where I want to be.

Speaking of leading ladies - oh how I wish I was Kimbra...


SB xx

the calm

I have seen the inside of many poor hotels in recent months, and I have just now come to a conclusion that hotel bathrooms really are poor examples of what humanity has to offer. Why must they all be so disgusting?

As I sit, this morning, on my cheap hotel bed, eating my fun-pack Coco Pops from a standard issue white mug, I am reminded of the terrible imitation Coco Pops I had the displeasure of eating while overseas.  The Island of Paros - I think that was the worst.

On a day like this, I don't feel that it's too early for chocolate - Cadbury hazelnut to be exact. I forgive myself for my food cravings today.

SB xx

ditto

What Freddie says.... perhaps minus the creepy unitard-wearing mob.  But that body roll towards the end - that shit's on a whole other level!



SB xx

Catastrophe!

Dear God, if today had played out like a set of song lyrics, it would've surely taken inspiration from this Julia Stone song. From rise to set, this day has been one frustrating problem after another.



After the mornings events, I decided against going anywhere else for fear of being struck down by rogue lightening... or God's hand itself.  So, I cleaned my room instead.  It was sort of a momentous day - because today I packed away my childish things. Statues and trinkets which tell the story of my past, now reside inside two small cardboard boxes.  I feel a little empty now.  It's not everything, but it is a start.

Tomorrow - to the city I go for my 'super' breast check.  With all this disaster in the air - I'm a little bit afraid of what might await me.

SB xx

the man, dan #2

I have loved Daniel Johns since I was about 15.  I remember teasing my older sister when she hit her silverchair phase before me. When posters of Daniel starting hitting her bedroom walls - I would bait her with Daniel jokes.  But then, something happened.  I must've hit that magical age, or one day I heard a silverchair song and decided it was made for me.  The tables had turned, and I was now the Daniel lover.

I loved him when he was a clean-skin - young and awkward; and I loved him, even when he wasn't around.  I love him most of all, because he is strange and sad and maybe damaged - and I am still terribly convinced that we are perfect for one another.

SB xx

all I don't want

I don't want to be old and bitter. Hold grudges for so long that I don't remember why I held them in the first place.

I don't want cook with hate or stir with bad intentions.

I don't want to be so insecure that I make up stories to bring other people down.

I don't want to be the kind of person to stifle someones enthusiasm, just because I have misplaced my own imagination.

I don't want to draw any more damn pieces of fruit or dead flowers. Ever. Again.

I want to laugh louder when everything in me wishes to smother it down.  And I want laugh lines - how can those be bad.

SB xx

stuff and nonsense

From the terribly clever Finn brothers. Perfect.

Disobey my own decisions
I deserve all your suspicions
First it's yes and then it's no
I dilly dally down to you
Oh

But I've got no secrets that I battle in my sleep
I won't make promises to you that I can't keep
And you know that I love you
Here and now not forever
I can give you the present
I don't know about the future
That's all stuff and nonsense

I once lived for the future
Everyday was one day closer
Greener on the other side
Yes
I believe before I met you
I assumed that your love was brighter than the stars in my eyes
Now I know how and when I know where and why

And you know that I love you
Here and now not forever
I can give you the present
I don't know about the future
That's all stuff and nonsense

I'll say it someday, and hope to mean it; I'll hope it is received by someone who wants to hear it.


SB xx