checking the clock, the tv, the phone

I may have got a little ahead of myself, jumped the numbers with uncharacteristic grace. Landed with an unfounded certainty and messy hair; a little pile of bobby pins and some phone call patterns on a stubbornly lined page.

Meeting my imagination, tapping it on the shoulder, and forcibly reattaching it to the daytime.

Back to regular programming and everyday things.

damien rice - volcano

university

I AM WHISPERING BECAUSE I SHOULDN'T SPEAK RIGHT NOW. I WANT SUNNY, LIGHTLY CLOUDED DAYS IN A BLUR, COFFEE AND COMPANY, AND MAYBE MORE SPECIFICALLY YOU. THERE ARE LYRICS COLLECTING IN MY HEAD THAT DON'T QUITE DESCRIBE ME, EXTRICATED FROM SONGS THAT DOCUMENT EMOTIONS THAT WERE PROBABLY IMAGINATIVE IN THE FIRST PLACE. THIS THING WE ALMOST AND PERHAPS AND COULD HAVE IS UNEXPECTED AND QUIET AND NICE.

the city

I am wondering what you are thinking, about this.
I am moulding you in my head, and inserting words into your mouth, and losing perspective.
I will probably do this for a while longer.
This is a window.

yes

"I feel an ardency of soul to be...emptied and annihilated, to lie in the dust and be full of Christ alone, to love him with a holy and pure love, to trust in him, to live on him, and to be perfectly sanctified and made pure with a divine and heavenly purity."
Jonathan Edwards

heaven in a box.

i liked today. just so you know.

this please

last shift at that horrible retail job today. scrap booking and hang outs to look forward to. and mum made chocolate cheesecake. so basically the best day ever.

island

steps outside well-structured sentences
flirts with ill-placed verbs and inefficient adjectives
wants slender fingers beautiful with acoustic sounds
writes lyrics to nowhere and notes to the world
finds low-slung jeans and a childish smile
watches conversation falling to the floor around them
keeps the window down -
so she can remember herself when he's there
half-hearted, half-speaking half-thoughts, in half-moods.

(i'm sorry i couldn't invite you.)

postcard home

accidental shopping
markets
two for twenty
trendy people with upright hair,
tight jeans,
leather accessories,
open wallets
sun and chocolate
no thanks and yes please
two for ten
star wars leitmotifs in my head

are you up to anything tonight
you know
if you're interested?
if you want

ok

holidays

a long, late night phone conversation with a beloved friend - comfort, disclosure, laughter; half-asleep as i said goodbye. a faulty alarm clock and an ambling, all-stops train to the subdued and melancholy funeral of a friend's brother (a black-and-white picture of a handsome young man with a cheeky half-smile and sad eyes / my friend standing outside the church, the memory of his brother engraved in the shape of his face, and temporarily tracing his cheeks in tears). thinking. crumpled jackets and crushed tees hung on purple coat-hangers, dirty clothes piled, clean clothes pegged under the winter sun. writing and cutting and gluing. a dessert party with like-minded, rugged-up friends, frenzied, light-hearted conversations tracking our little circle, back and forth and across and over, comments received in snippets, comically jumbled.

some notes

- late to the bus
- thai with jess, anthony, alec and rich
- campos with jess, alec and rich
- bought on-special boots because my black flats are swiftly losing their battle against university pavements
- made beautiful invitations to a tea party with jess
- drank creamy earl grey tea
- watched half of clueless
- sat
- made a list

adele - hometown glory

mismatched, misshapen trivia.

saw friends, sipped vietnamese noodle soup and chatty conversation. wandered pink and fluffy asian stores lined with frilly clothes, glittered key-rings, fake handbags.

traveled on-time trains with novel in hands and music in ears.

heard terrible news: empathy tightens lungs, block out related imaginings, feel altogether too much, and far too little.

not about a boy.

i am ok with leaving before the night is over, in bed by one, feet spared dancing. i am going to be ok with your unseeing eyes and noncommittal hellos and goodbyes. i'll sit on the couch in the corner of the dim-lit bar, and i'll pretend to be messaging someone. and soon, by prayer and petition, you will be excavated from me. and that will be ok.

this

i have an empty red leather notebook and a pile of useless words and an expectant heart. ready now.

i think you should fall in love with me immediately.

before bed

"Moments before sleep are when she feels most alive, leaping across fragments of the day, bringing each moment into the bed with her like a child with schoolbooks and pencils. The day seems to have no order until these times, which are like a ledger for her, her body full of stories and situations...
Sometimes she collects several blankets and lies under them, enjoying them more for their weight than for the warmth they bring. And when moonlight slides onto the ceiling it wakes her, and she lies in the hammock, her mind skating. She finds rest opposed to sleep the truly pleasurable state. If she were a writer she would collect her pencils and notebooks and favourite cat and write in bed. Strangers and lovers would never get past the locked door."
Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient.

while

men should ask women to relaxed restaurants, funny films and road trips.
people in general should use more alliteration in everyday conversation.

1

hello interweb.

this is not something to which i am particularly committed.