Sometimes I turn the music up really loud
Just so I can't hear myself think.
*
Fifteen months and three-hour long conversations
Amounted to nothing.
Things you can't quantify: love, happiness, grief.
Things you can quantify: sacrifice, memories, the time it takes to heal.
*
I remember as a teenager I mastered (and often practised) the art of holding back tears.
My mother used to think I was rather indifferent to the world around me
Because I didn't cry.
Now I've grown up and the tears find their own way out -
By the side of the road, in cabs, at my work desk, in the bath, elevator.
*
Every relationship takes away a piece of you.
When all's been said and done,
You both go your own ways.
But invariably, you leave something of yours behind with that person.
A squint, laugh, book, cds, the piece of your heart that was wrenched out.
Maybe that's why people ask for their ashes to be scattered in the sea;
Let the water carry them to all the pieces they'd left around the world,
And find the way back to being whole again.
*
Lately I find myself saying sorry alot.
I wish I could have done some things differently.
But you can't change what's past.
Just like I can't change the horse inside.
*

Top 10 songs you put on loop:
(1) Blower's Daughter - Damien Rice
(2) Time After Time - Everything But The Girl
(3) Just Another - Pete Yorn
(4) Inside And Out - Feist
(5) Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
(6) Theme from Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence - Ryuichi Sakamoto
(7) Until You Come Back To Me - Aretha Franklin
(8) Fox In The Snow - Belle And Sebastian
(9) Nobody Knows Me Like My Baby - Lisa Miller
(10) Rilken Heart (Accoustic) - Cocteau Twins

There are times I get so engorged
With a trove of strange energy inside
That results from a thick, heavy diaphragm cast between the Id and Superego,
I feel like I'm going to throw up.
Or cry.
Or both, when I'm undecided.
There's a blockage somewhere inside me.
I don't know the cause. Or cure.
*
I've got all these crafty ideas in my head.
An iPod case, beaded hair bands, more brooches (currently mulling over how to make a masculine flower pin), fabric belts made out of vintage remnants.
If only I could recalibrate all this tumultuous feuding into creative energry.
*
I feel frayed.
I'm all seams.
*
With my iPod
The total eclipse is now put in place.
*
Did I say that I love you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?
*
I should stop listening to depressing music.
Yea.
A little Beaumont and Pizzicato Five should help.
*

Could I borrow a few words?
I've lost some.
*
I've got teams of loved ones psycho-analysing my life.
I'm depressed. And I'm thankful for the ones who've contributed a laugh, a phone call, an email, mix cds, hair makeover, nights at Velvet, homecooked favourites.
I know I haven't been the best of company. The once-infectious laugh has been replaced by a scowl; hyperbolised anecdotes by general silence. Sorry.
*
Yet there's so much to look forward to.
*
There's nothing wrong with the way you're feeling, sweet pea.
Cry if you have to. I wish I were there to share the Poliform couch with you. In that little fancy messy apartment of yours.
Get better soon. Promise./?
*
Baby steps, baby.
*

It's 12.40am and I'm still at work. After 11pm it didn't matter anymore. It's been a long day; it's been a long couple of days. I've been smoking too much, way too much.
*
In between meetings I checked my phone and saw a missed call. I went outside for a cigarette. On the white chair, facing the plot of overgrown grass and an old tree. I called back, it was an old college mate. He called to tell me that a friend of ours had died in a road accident. At first I didn't quite get the name. Then all I could coax out of my mouth was a line of nonsensical expletives. No, we weren't very close at all. But it doesn't matter does it.
*
A strange skin of stillness and mutedness stretched over Duxton Hill. He fell asleep while riding home.
*
I went to bed at about 3. When I got home my mascara had run, leaving a slate-grey shadow below my eyes. The flatmate came out to see if I was ok. She asked a few times, then left me when she sensed my sheer exhaustion.
*
There are nights I'm so tired I just want to bury myself in the duvet and not have to make any form of conversation. And there are nights I'm so tired but all I want to hear is a voice on the other end. While riding home in a cab I flicked through my phone to see who I could call. I put the phone back into my bag and looked out of the window instead.
*

I ordered myself a Nano today.
Black, 4GB.
It's what I call convenient coincidence.
I read about it in New York Times on Friday;
I was talking to someone about it this morning;
Then mom rings to ask if I'd like the Shuffle that the bank is giving her for her contribution to their reserves.
So I took it all as a sign. Buy it, buy it.

Pastels can lift her spirits
Yet there's so much that she hasn't said yet.
*
It's cloudless today.
Leaves fluttering outside the window.
*
The glass beads fell.
Fell like her heart.
*
The healing rose quartz
Healed past wounds but not future ones.
*
It's beautiful outside.
Teletransport yourself to a pool somewhere,
Cocktail in hand, peace in mind.
*

You know how you sometimes turn on the radio and wish really hard
That they'll play a tune you really want to hear.
She could tell from my face
That I was fucking high.
~
Perhaps I didn't tell you about this.
When I went into the bank on Wednesday morning to terminate my accounts
I had to bite my lip to hold back the tears.
As I stood before the counter, watching him cut up my cards,
I realised that I'd finally memorised my mastercard number.
I walked out, feeling so misplaced.
I sat at the cafe across the road, and ordered breakfast.
I wiped away the tears as I spoke on the phone,
Trying to avoid attention while seated in the lonely middle of the room.
It's nothing but the female desire to attribute a symbolic significance to everything.
~

I looked out of the plane as we descended upon Tullamarine.
The tiny Mirabella lights; white and orange, the lego streets, the few cars that drove by lines of brick homes.
It reminded me of the little model town in Beetlejuice.
As the plane screeched to an abrupt, yet anticipated halt,
I checked my heart for signs-
Of excitement, yearning, nostalgia, relief. Negative.
I was calm. Collected. And so indifferent.
It was painfully cold when I walked out of the terminal.
I took it all in, breathing as hard as my lungs would allow. I remember pre-dawn moments like these; the air like daggers, the tip of noses numb and icy, the lonely roads and lonlier souls that walk by, Slowdive's Souvlaki.
*
I went back with a mission.
I made lists of places to go, things to do, restaurants to visit, friends to meet.
I made no concession for sentimental hesitation, I approached with a tour-package style itinerary instead.
Needless to say I checked off less than half of what I'd mercilessly listed down.
What I did accomplish was far more meaningful.
*
At first light, a girly chat with sooo-missed girlfriend over green tea.
At midday, tempura lunch made by my favourite chef in the world.
At dusk, chinese dinner with friends - old, new, someone else's.
Day 1.
*
Spring blossoms, perfectly cloudless skies, mad people on the streets, the horrible Punt Road traffic during footy season, jarring accents on the radio, real coffee and real brekkies.
God I've missed this.
*
I'm so earnestly thankful for all the things that friends put my way.
For the ones who took sickies, days-off, organised barbeques, took me to Chapel St Bizaar, jean-shopping in countless shops, hot chocolate at Max Brenner, lattes, macchiatos, and all other things yummy at Melbourne Supper Club, Cafe Orange, Tusk, Cicciolina, Thanh Thanh, and so so much more.
You've made me feel like it's my 4th birthday all over again.
*
Special mention for Akira's E-homecoming-tailored banquet:
+ cold cucumber & pomelo salad in mirin and soy sauce, with steamed scallops and home-made mayo (because I'd pointed to the pomelo on the counter during lunch)
+ assorted sashimi: taco (e-fav), tuna, salmon, calamari (divinely sweet)
+ red snapper broth (so delicate and subtle)
+ steamed lotus root ball in crabmeat and fish gravy (another e-fav)
+ stewed king fish with radish
+ grilled wagyu beef salad (because I'd asked about his wagyu sukiyaki and expressed a liking for the meat)
+ rice ball in homemade chicken broth (topped with steamed melt-in-your-mouth chicken breast)
+ steamed caramel pudding (I could never walk out of there without ending my dining experience with this)
*
When the time came for me to go.
Leave home. Leave this.
You chose something else.
Stay. Please?
*