Archive for January, 2011

give time to think
January 19, 2011

“sometimes it takes a madman to learn the secrets of the darkness”

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looking
January 17, 2011

“every second that passes us by is humming with possibility; that life aches with waiting for us to come alive; that heaven tries to pour itself out to us, and we fail dismally to take it” – bert

let me feel your heart beat
January 17, 2011

there are times where you are perfect.
absolutely fucking perfect.
and thank you for not trying to fix me.
i don’t want anyone to fix me.

“you know… i feel really honoured when you show me your vulnerability, when you let me take care of you… i like journeying through your thoughts” – mel

“like brothers and sisters”
January 17, 2011

24.10.2010
”annabelle lost her pen. she then accused me of hiding it. told me the joke wasn’t funny. threw herself off the bed. complained that she would write about it in her journal, but couldn’t because she had lost her pen… then found it… in her pencil case”

31.10.2010
”‘you’re a nice girl… the kind mothers would love to have as their daughter in law’ – annabelle being a tosser”

3.10.2010
”‘catelyn… that’s not funny. why’d you do that? don’t put your head in the sand’ – annabelle”

7.10.2010
”annabelle found her favourite place in tasmania today… my room. i almost cried when i read that. she can cross it off her list now though. i love how often she shocks me. i don’t want her to leave”

7.11.2010
”annabelle just wrote ‘trust’ on my foot. then ‘believe’… now ‘dreams’… then she crossed out the ‘s’ on ‘dreams’. i think i love her because there is so much i don’t know about her. so much mystery. she just wrote ‘rely’. now ‘love’. larissa has just come in. now annabelle has written ‘dont be shy’.. because i don’t want to read out the letter she wrote her grandpa… my accent is funny. i read it for her earlier. but i dont feel like it now. she has now written ‘weirdo’ on my heel.”

25.11.2010
”annabelle found a new journal yesterday. it took us forever to find it. it has a tree on the front”

24.12.2010
”annabelle can’t sit still. she is far too excited (for christmas) for this to be healthy”

17.1.2011
”annabelle has gone”

i can’t really type out much more. there are far more entries for me to write them all. and some will only ever be for her and i to read. but as i read through every entry i’d written about her… i found it difficult to add to the things i’d already written about her. to justify the time she spent here in tasmania with us all. all the challenges i had set her… on her list… lost their meaning towards the end of her stay. all i wanted was to soak her up. to not feel the impact of her leaving. i refused to sign her flag for so long. i refused to do anything for so long. she and i sat in my room virtually every night for almost four months. some nights we talked. some nights we were silent the entire time. it’s a kind of relationship i didn’t believe could exist. our relationship isn’t based on the amazing memories. or the fun things we did….more-so the living. having the other there. across the hallway. in our hearts. at the airport it wasn’t a competition of who would miss her more. for the seven months that she was here in total, she managed to make everyone she met, feel like they were worth something.

i will hum you a song about nothing at all
January 12, 2011

like a small child i pointed at the screen drastically
“learn it! please! please can we learn it?”
she calmly replied:
“you don’t learn a song… you cover it”
i played it for her on youtube, and watched her sit there, with her guitar in hand.
slowly she started playing different chords.
trying… testing.
it wasn’t long before she got it… and i watched this delighted smile crawl across her face.
after that, we listened and sang it together. (which was a lot more difficult than it sounds)…
every now and then she’d have to listen to the song again.
not the normal listening.
she’d turn her head, close her eyes, and become alone.
just for a moment.
there was no me.
there was no voice of regina spektor.
there was her.
and there was the music.
sometimes i feel more connected to this girl, when i’m observing the things she does as opposed to doing them with her.
she’d only heard the  song once or twice…
yet she was so comfortable with what she was playing.
and so comfortable with my observations.

“porcupine-ology. antler-ology. car-ology. bus-ology. train-ology. plain-ology. mama-ology. papa-ology. you-ology. me-ology. love-ology. kiss-ology. stay-ology. please-ology. love-ology. love-ology. i’m-sorry-ology. forgive-me-ology. love-ology. love-ology. i’m-sorry-ology. forgive-me-ology…
forgive me.
forgive me.
forgive-me-ology.
forgive me.
forgive me.
forgive-me-ology”

mi stava simpatico
January 7, 2011

you get your typical sleazes at falls. the whip-your-penis-out-in-the-mosh-pit sort of guys.
who really just look for a quick and easy way of getting you into their tent.
some of them can be a little scary….
the ones that lick your legs, or claw you, or chase you around the mosh pit trying to get your attention.
but they the provide for some good laughs afterward.
i’ll be honest and say though, that i was really quite lucky at this festival.
the only ones i picked up were ones who wanted to dance, or talk.
one i remember clearly.
he had cleared a space in front of him further up from me, and his friend told me to go.
so i did.
it wasn’t too bad in there… in terms of being compacted, but he opened his arms out and pushed outward so that i had space to breathe for a bit.
a lot of guys do this, but still, i was appreciative for the moments of breathing he gave me.
when the set finished, people started going mad leaving the mosh. mel and ruby were relatively close, so i decided to just stay where i was so that i could wait with them for joan jett.
his mates were leaving and everything, but he waited there so that i was safe for a bit longer.
he drunkenly slurred something to me, but i couldn’t hear a word he was saying.
when the crowd got a bit more tame he pushed through a bit, to get me further to the front.
“look! there’s the metal grounding. you get onto that and your set! just wait up there, weave into the gaps, and you’ll be at the front before you know it.”
i turned back to thank him.
“you call out to me if you need any help okay!?” he slurred. i thanked him again.
“you’re a very beautiful girl”, he said, grabbing my hand. he then kissed it quite dodgily… after that he seeped backed into the crowd.

i won’t lie, he really was quite drunk. and i looked bloody awful by that stage. tired, sick and sweating. the guy wasn’t the hottest most buff one walking around. and he probably didn’t remember that interaction the morning after.
but at the time… it didn’t matter if i really was beautiful or not… but more so that i felt beautiful.
for those few, chaotically-mosh-pit-style moments i felt worthy of being kept safe. and worthy of being beautiful.
a feeling i haven’t felt in a long time.

stumbling on the backstreets
January 5, 2011

cheaply died tangly hair, sand on wooden floors, moisturizer stealthily stolen from the bathroom cabinet, warm salty breezes, clear ocean, warm sunshine, sweaty skin, silent nights illustrated with noises of crickets, clear skies to watch the stars, smells from the kitchen, excitement…

it’s not so much the feeling of summer anymore… more so, the feeling of home


over and over
January 2, 2011

“we arrived. we got a good camp site. we put our tent up. it was crooked. we fixed it. we napped.
friends arrived. they put their tents up. some were crooked. some were good. some broke.
we laughed. we said stupid things. we ate stupid food. we drank stupid drinks. we met stupid people.
we moshed. we were hit on. we were lifted into the air. we were squashed. we were screaming. we were meters away from our favourite musicians.
we slept. we woke up too early. we went to bed cold and woke up hot. we smelt bad. we put dreads and plaits and beads in our hair. we wore bindis and smiles.
we squinted into the sun. we protected ourselves with free sunscreen. we squinted into the stars. we protected ourselves from the big questions catelyn would pose about them.
we hugged. we felt each other up. we kissed. we shocked each other. we fell on each other. we climbed on each other. we held each other.
we ran. we walked. we sat. we stood. we balanced. we looked into the eyes of people who may remember a feeling but would not remember our faces.
and we said all of these things were okay. because.
we tried not to judge and we felt acceptance. we helped people in need and we weren’t afraid to ask for help. we held onto a gaze and let it meant what we wanted it to mean. we felt the fear but we turned it into excitement. we sang and didn’t mind if our voices broke. we cried and didn’t mind if our hearts broke. we held hands and felt the strength of each other.

we were free.

for those few days, we were free”

-mel