Category Archives: Highlights

So, last night on Six Feet Under:

“..but I won’t change anything. If you change one thing, it changes everything, and some things are the way they should be.” -Brenda (Rachael Griffiths)

But some things need to be changed… Change is a curious creature, I’m still searching for a grip on what this change is. Hidden feelings and desires are playing games with the truth, and the truth needs to come out.

The irony is, I sensed the positivity inherent within, and that started one sweeping roll of change, but then, turn around and begin again, sensing negative energy inherent around, changed it all again. I think I need to surround myself with the positive, and ignore the BAMF’s who think this is not a “good thing”. It’s a technical reality that it is actually none of their god damn business, anyway. The difficult part, is inducing the reversal, back to what it was going to be, what it should be.

Spent the weekend in Innisfail, and caught up with a few people I haven’t seen in years. Most notably, Aunty Helen. I swear that woman has a heart and soul of pure gold, and I hadn’t realised how much I have missed her, and her family. Being back in my home town was kind of scary, as I expected. The “this is where I came from?” revelation hit me by about 4pm on Saturday, and by midnight, I was almost positively depressed. But then memories of the good stuff flooded through, via Aunty Helen. Though, good as it was, it was still tinged with the sadness of the first two paragraphs. Never lost, never found. I just, I just, I just want to know if, if, if, if I am right about this. If I knew, no problem. But I don’t, and I know there is no way of knowing. So what am I to do?

This is all related to this.

Yesterday, a few clues were handed to me on a silver platter, and I’m beginning to put the pieces together. It’s starting to make sense, but this is where someone is playing games with the truth. I think, all I need to do, is stand my ground, work out what I want, and do it.

Wish me luck.

Snapshot. Pigeon with long blond hair stuck in its beak, trailing behind it as it attempts to forage for crumbs left by careless morning munchers. As the pigeon picked up the wrong cast-off, I feel like I am the cast-off – trailing behind, cast around in the breeze…

Feel like I’ve grown apart from everything, including myself. Dislocated – so fucking dislocated that it hurts. Dislocated from friends – trying to catch up, but even that has its inherent problems. Nothing is the same – and I didn’t expect it to be – but it’s so different that I barely recognize some things. Things, people, places, attitudes, idioms and paradigms. Nothing seems concrete – nothing to hold on to as I swirl past it all, trying to at least see what’s there, grasp on to ‘something’.

Even the one thing I thought I might be able to grasp… isn’t really available to be held – even for just a second. Yes, I’m finding it difficult to come to terms with the changes to our relationship.

I feel cast out – Flashback to Molong:
“I guess it feels like everyone is leaving you.”
“Yes it does, but the thing is – I can’t see where that leaves me.”

Mum & dad are in Narromine, Clay is going (eventually) to Sydney, my sister is going to New Zealand. Myles is working full-time, as is Greg (whom I have other .. ‘difficulties’ with), and Craig also. Sara is the only one not working, but is still getting over her accident and spends most days in bed, studying for the exams she has next week. Daniel would probably be surprised and amused that I even sensed a change in him. Though, having said that, “contact” was made, and he is the one I had the least problems making real contact with. (Alternatively, it could have been me and how I relate to people that has changed so noticeably.) Greg. Greg almost deserves an entry all to himself, and I feel I probably shouldn’t write about all that here.

Oh, to feel as human as you, Greg. You have little idea how much turmoil you have put me through, and also how much I have learnt about myself because of you. I still feel both of these as well as the nervousness and butterflies and hope and dismay and guilt.

Guilt. Guilt should have no place in this world. But this is all self-made-guilt: from knowing that one has done wrong by not just one, but two other human beings. I guess, in the end, one should never say never, and I learnt that I am, after all, only human.

Only human, only female, only creative, only curious, only alive, only trying to make sense of this world we have created for ourselves and all the promises I have made and broken and kept and the dreams that I have and the few regrets.

Life. Living. Day by day, step by step, little by little, we’re all moving on. Question is – where to from here? The main thing is that I feel like I don’t belong here. I don’t know where I ‘belong’. (That is, of course, if anyone ‘belongs’ anywhere.) It’s my Saturn Return this year, and I feel like I need somewhere to go ‘home’ to. But I have no idea where that might be.

Yet, tonight, I will make yet another attempt to contact – Daryl’s band is playing, I, Craig, Sara (if she’s up to it), Travis, Greg, and possibly Myles & Tash and perhaps Louise are going. Though I feel I have less energy to expend, I will make an attempt.

A piece of string will only stretch so far… Plans and promises have been made, some have already been broken. I simply hope that I can stretch far enough… but not so far that it causes other promises to break.

Bear with me, I think it’s just an early mid-life crisis. I’m like a feather on a swirling wind, carried along, trailing behind, trying to catch up and find out where I came from…

i return to a time once was and might be again. if this, if that, then what? well, no one knows, really. there’s no knowing, no known, no unknown. it’s just there, like that.

leaving behind and going forwards, but somehow going back at the same time… I can’t explain this feeling, it’s somewhere between itchy feet for what will be, nostalgia for what was, and wonder at what couldbealmostwasoncebutmightbeagain..
And so, moving on, I depart Cairns this evening, say goodbye to my dearest friend, move on to family for the night, then further south tomorrow morn. Should be in Brisbane by Thursday…

it’s been good. really good…

It’s not like you to say sorry
I was waiting on a different story
This time I’m mistaken
For handing you a heart worth breakin’

I’ve been wrong, I’ve been down
Been to the bottom of every bottle
These five words in my head
Scream “Are we having fun yet?”

It’s not like you didn’t know that
I said I love you and I swear I still do
It must have been so bad
Cause living with me must have damn near killed you…

Now.. I’m falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I’ve held onto
I’m standing here until you make me move
I’m hanging by a moment here with you

I’m living for the only thing I know
I’m running and not quite sure where to go
I don’t know what I’m diving into
Just hanging by a moment here with you

Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken
Your best friend always sticking up for you, even when I know you’re wrong
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance, five-hour phone conversation
The best soy latte that you ever had … and me

Choices, choices.. too many options, and none of them are simple black and white. I’m faced with a thousand shades of grey… Why am I even thinking about this when I should just be concentrating on getting back to work? Why? Because suggestion is the beginning of wonder, wonder leads to planning, planning gets me in trouble. Suggestions have been planted by all manner of people, from my mother (bless her troublesome, manipulative, attention-seeking heart) to Steve, Steve’s mother, Clay, Steve’s house-mates, Suze, Kate, blah, I shan’t complete this list. But they all seem to be either directly shouting or subtly hinting at the same thing. That same thing can’t be said out loud. Nothing can [Note to self: Keep asking the question – “Why can’t it be said out loud? Why can’t anything be said out loud?”]. Loud leaves us dying for a silence and a solitude brought on by the realization that this thing should have been realized long ago; and the realization that it was but it never was.

But that’s what life is, ja? Learn, lean, live, lie, life. I think If I keep typing I’ll end up saying something that I have to realize for myself, but shouldn’t say out loud. Though, having said that, I can’t think of much more to say, every word comes as a jumble from between horrendous shades of grey, difficult to discern and perhaps best left in camouflage for the time being.

Arg, shut up, crazy woman. Shush, hush, quiet now, it’ll all be all right in the end.

weird. Just when I’d thought things had changed so much, there’s just a tiny hint that some things sort of remain the same. It’s called friendship, something I’d almost assumed was never the same as it was before, but no. BOOM, there it is. Tiny hints can hit you like a ten-tonne anvil. I was silent for a moment, almost surprised, then smiled. Then, two days later, he did it again. I live in wonder…

and so, as things change, the more they stay the same.. life’s funny, isn’t it? I knew, but I ignored that knowledge. I do realise that some things aren’t quite right, but I’m wiling to allow it to be for the time being. I don’t know if going back to the last turn is the thing to do, I think I’ll just find my way from here…

lost and never knowing what’s going on, where are you, you’re never around, i’m here at his place, and he was always the first and i feel like i should be happier to be here, but i don’t know what’s going on, i’m here and i’m not here, i’m happy and i’m not. i don’t know what to do. i’m getting worried about you, but then i think that i shouldn’t be so silly, after all it’s never meant to be that way, and it will not last forever. and i like and don’t like that thought, though i haven’t had the guts to tell you that yet. answer your phone, answer your email, answer something, dammit.

i feel like i still have so much more to say, like as if i’ve been gagged for the last year, gagged but not gagged, more like the link from heart to tongue has been severed, all i can really say is the basics, and anything that really means anything just won’t be said, it won’t allow me to say it, and i won’t allow me to say it. i feel like i’m pouring this out to a world that has no clue where i’ve been lately and why things have changed, but please please believe me i’ve been here all along, just silent and holding things in and not letting the truth to be spoken.

things change and things stay the same, but as they stay the same they still change, ever so slowly, until you wake up one day and don’t recognise yourself anymore. i wonder where this person came from. her arrival wasn’t even noticed, it’s just that suddenly, there were several things missing that used to be here, and instead, she has taken over.

i’m choking, as if there’s something in my throat, trying to stop me from saying this. it happens everytime i get upset and have to say things i don’t want to say, but usually these things are the truth.

i think i should stop now.

i think i’ve worked it out. when you realise that you’re on the wrong path, you have to stop, go back to where you made the wrong turn and start again. i’ve had to start again so many times in my life that i’m getting sick of having to do it, and i dread having to do it again, but i know i have to.

now i’ll stop.

reflect, deflect & don’t show the scars.

I’m not living in a magazine – this is a life with no handbook, notes, or manuals, just observations.

Beauty in a fairy wing; a look from that guy with the great chest wrapped in stretch white cotton; the weeping willow above the dam; the various greens & yellows & purples of the tree tops on the ridge. This is life @ Sunnycrest.

Heartache in trying to stretch the distance between mother & child, trying trying to be adult and adult, whilst not damaging the relationship, but change fix it and all the problems within it. This too, is life @ Sunnycrest.

“All I want is the freedom to be me.” He (the guy in white stretch cotton) encourages this, ‘whatever’ I ‘am’ (or want to be); Mum wants me to be the version of me that she thinks I am – No room for growth, change or metamorphosis.

There are many words that heal and hurt simultaneously.

live baby live.

you live, you learn; you love, you learn.

These are the things I’ve faced in the last week. All that, and more. Packing away the past and staring at the future; calling one from the past for advice; playing cat & mouse with one from recent past – trying not to step on toes whilst dancing to my own tune.

Kept thinking that I was hearing footsteps down the hall as I was dropping off to sleep – guess I just wasn’t sure what song I was dancing to, thanks to questions raised by someone else. It’s not your fault – your dancing is perfect as it is (much like your coffee).

Words. It’s all just words, all words imbued with silent-not-so-silent meaning. Intonation; phrasing; context; history; pauses (or lack thereof). Without all of these, the words seems so cold and oddly disenfranchised (annhilated, perhaps?). But they’re all that and more. Remind me to choose my words carefully. And please, please, can someone teach my mother to do the same?

Brought to silent tears as I heard the words – “He expects to die like his father – young, from a heart attack, from overworking.” And I’m sitting on a bench in the park, a tear rolling slowly down my left cheek, and I don’t know what to say to that. There is nothing I can say to that. (The paradox: considering that my mother was oh-so-concerned about Clay “throwing guilt” at me, she does an amazing job of ‘inducing’ guilt in me. She’s quite subtle sometimes. But only sometimes.)

This feels like a strange time in my life. Like I’m almost here but not. Like I almost know who I am but not. Like I almost know what I want but not. There are somethings I am sure of, however I feel like I’m clinging to these things like a life-raft – or, perhaps, clinging to the engine of a 747 in the ocean. (Duck, I think it’s possible that it might have been me in that dream..)

And speaking of dreams, my, have I been dreaming of late. Odd, complicated dreams that dissapear from memory upon waking (which could possibly be a good thing).

I should be packing. Or cleaning. Or even list-making (so much to do, so little time, I’ve turned into an obsessive list-maker.) But, I’m slightly tired, somewhat in relax-mode (or is that lazy-mode?), and I realize what it is that I’m missing tonight – Motivation. This roller-coaster weekend has left me in a pool of nothingness. Not that I feel that ‘I am nothing’ – just that “I am able to do nothing, and nothing is what I want to do.”

Evidence of my timewasting relaxation (or, Lisa + French dictionary = trouble.)

Rêve précédent:

Vous, la marque d’un chevalier, choix interminable d’offre – perspicacit inattendue. Pour prendre une risque – aux précipitations dans l’infatuation. Et je? Très près pour réagir. Confus. Déboussolé. A déjà déchiffré le dilemme: désir contre les démis débris. En réalité, dilemme? Non pas du tout. Mon amour est vrai. Fidèle. Indices, rêves, gaufre. Seulement un rêve, mon ami.

Adieu.

Why is it that at moments when writing is impossible, I have the most amazing thoughts that would translate into text as the most amazing reading, but when pen comes to hand, those thoughts are gone?

Because times, people and plans change, that’s why.
Because there’s so much I could say, so much I have said, so much I want to tell specific people.
Because everything is too much or not enough.
Because I walk around this city, and everything I see, experience and think, I want to share with him.
Because I miss sharing his thoughts and mine, I miss his physical presence in my space, the sound of his voice, the scent of his aftershave, the warmth of his body against mine in the middle of the night.
Because when you’re in love with life you want to stop and smell the flowers.
Because people really are the most amazing creatures.
Because compassion is the greatest thing to have.
Because freedom is the greatest thing you can give someone.
Because he gives me the freedom I’ve always wanted from a partner.
Because sometimes it’s scary having that freedom.
Because being honest with yourself is the most important thing.
Because not enough people on this planet realize that.
Because it’s all sounding very Zen.
Because “I need coffee dearie,” says so much.
Because I’m running out of time to get everything done.
Because when you pull apart a non-working-sample mobile phone (cell phone), you realize that you really don’t know what you’re buying.
Because when you draw though the face plates, you can’t tell the difference between a Nokia, an Erickson, a Motorola, a Siemens, and a Panasonic.
Because I didn’t pull apart the two cool Nokia’s that could be useful as props for a film, or the Samsung we want for the exhibition.
Because the cat’s sitting beside me.
Because it’s Sunday.
Because I feel dislocated.

(And because this is the second time I’ve typed this out, and if it doesn’t post this time, I’m gonna kill someone.)

all I know is that i am who i am. all i know is that sometimes i feel like that’s not enough for me, not enough for you, not enough for them, but too much to handle, too hard to hold, can’t pin me down, you don’t know what you’ve got till you get it, then you’re so close to it that you don’t know what it is anymore, let alone what to do with it now. have i said this before? i’m everything and nothing, and that’s fine with me.

the embers are still smoking away.. the fire continues on a never-ending cycle of flare and quell. i’m either running hot or cold, and all i want is to be warm.. just warm.. is that too much to ask for? apparently so, it’s never a happy medium, it’s all or nothing, everything and nothing, and no one likes that, so i’ve been told. communicate, but don’t complain, and remember that you’re more sensitive than most, but you’ll have to be tougher on yourself, so stand up and face it, but take nothing more than you deserve – you’re better than that..

i can’t make sense of it, so i doubt you lot will.

sorry.