It's Funny

I used to know how to write
When I saw it all in black
Being dark creates a brilliant canvas
For a tortured kind of creativity
And assists the deepest part of a soul
To emerge from the very bottom
Of its muted and strangled mud pit
And trudge it out
Like a soldier at war
Curling and weaving a lyrical web
Of battered and articulate art
Direct from a dirty street corner
Or the lowest depths of a firey hell
Where flames fall like rain-drops
Turning tears into pain
While it burns the skin
Off my feet that walk the land
But burning heals
And smoke fades from gray
Life opens its gates
To a luminous sane
With doors wide open
To a porthole of indulgent trust
Clarity and unlimited peace
The pure ability to lust
But the beautiful clear
That in this moment is found
Is mirrored by shock
And a devastating horror compound
As the imaginative creation
Black Bloom begins to die
Slowly sucking from your pores
Rippling effects and altering lives
Then suddenly...
I sit very still in my chair
And I notice
That a life without pain
Is a life without torture
And without this torture
What's left will remain
But a canvas still white
Art of battle wounds maintained
By the abuse and misconduct
Of a creativity devide
Paint is still packaged
In its plastic bow-ties
So your heart has been healed
But the art in you dies


The light is insightful...
But kills an artist all the same.

Red Rose

Red rose
And dainty lines
With tender lips
To fill a kiss
Gentle words
And warmest breath
Rolling down
A delicate neck
Softest hush
Round the bend
Smell as sweet
As winters end
Floral ties
Tangled webs of heat
Bellowing breeze
Beneath thy feet
Jitter bugs
Dance in between
A knowing love
And mouth that weeps
Longing for
A taste that lasts
With passion and colour
Hope summer comes fast
Then a moment evolves
From beneath the sheets
Unveil thy love
For the feeling is sweet
Just like the rose
That lay at thy head
Pretty and perfect
Red on the bed

I like the days when I look up and see a Vanilla Sky - makes me feel not so far away.

"What is happiness to you David?"

LOVE.truth.intense.passion.unreasonable-behaviour.heart-wrenching.influential.hot.red.real.LOVE

"I'll find you again... In another life when we are both cats"

Ow

Hot
Heat
Red
Love
Passion
Lust
Make
That
Sh*t
Last

A Lost Hope?

Goodbye to the days
Of party-bags and fairy bread
And twinkling lights
At Christmas time
The dreams we've lost
In time we'll find
And return to the hopes
Of a child-like mind

With you it's easy...

Black and white
Day and night
Hot and cold
For sale or sold
Stay or go
Swinging to-and-fro
Lying is dying
Forever left crying
Coming or going
Having, not knowing
Rich or poor
But less is more
Lost and found
Stay safe and sound
Mystical light
Forbidden delight
Living is loving
And loving is knowing
Knowing you'll love me
Makes living life easy

An Un-complex Thing

Sometimes when I'm on my own
I think of you
And wonder where in the world you are
Or what it is you may be doing
There was a 'once upon a time'
When I'd have been where you are too
Doing exactly what it is that you are doing
Back in the simpler times
The days gone by
Ones of our youth
When the most complex thing...
Was what to have for dinner

Down By The Pool

She heard a splash
And thought it to be a sound
That had come
From down by the pool
And then she heard giggles
Echoes that bounced up
Drifted over the wall
Straight into the windows
Of the big old lonely house
She stood still in the kitchen
As she had done in times before
And stopped long enough to listen
To the untroubled melodies
Being sung out to the world
And although it had been forever
Forever means nothing
In the land that was made
So she closed her eyes softly
And let only the sound remain
Of the voices as they danced
And played high up in the trees
In a youthful splendor of bliss
Where time is not as it seems
And she smiled as she thought
How much it had been missed
This kind of life delight
The purest sound of happiness
A truth of unflawed devine
The friendship of each other
And trust in the simpler things
A smile to give another
In times...
Is more precious than it seems

A Summer-Time Tale

Come to me
For you
Have the sweetest taste
Like the orchid fruits we ate
Ripe from the summer sun
Rosie cheeked
Tender skinned
And flesh against flesh
We've known so well
Honest and true
Simple without pain
Complex by nature
Easy to maintain
Where did it go
The warmth
From our summer
Spent grazing
In the long stemmed grass
Rolling in leaves
Tumbling down hills
The way children do
In story books
And fairy tales
Up, off and away
To a Neverland of our very own
Where the sky goes on forever
And the stars are always seen
With a blue light shining
Magic rays out onto the land
And a haven where the moon
Is never too far from hand
Everything would be perfect
Everyone safe, without a care
Sweeping the spaces
Layering with life
Filling the time
And fixing its cracks
What a pretty thought
For a pretty pair to share
A simple kind of world
With a never-ending love
Left open
Like the book
That lay still upon my lap
An effortless tale of beauty
Though uniquely unkept
Helping us to believe
In what may still be in store
Waiting for tomorrow
To come bursting through the doors
For the love that is known
Is never too far from home
Should we just
Take one last breath
And open our eyes
And ears
And hearts
To a summer-time tale
And a forever-time love

What We Had All Along

I never thought I'd need a life that was constantly changing to stay inspired...
Because all I ever wanted was a life that stayed still so I'd feel complete.

We always want what we don't have in that moment...
And yet we always want what we had all along.

The perfect kind of pizza...

Hey Darlin'
How've you been?
Been sleepin' enough?
And have you been eatin'?
A nice slice of pizza
A Vegie delight
Top it with olives
And a garlicy bite
No three letter words
To be used around here
You're fine as you are
Quite lovely m'dear

***

For the first time in years
I couldn't feel better
We've spoken about this I know
And you're right...
I needed to get better


(Thanks for the force fed pizza ;))

Helping Helps

I'm glad I found a way
To be there for you
When no one else could
It reminds me of the person
I'd always set out to be
Makes me think
I'm the way I was intended
So maybe helping you
Helped to help me
And I hope that I did
Help you I mean
Because that's all I ever wanted
To be - for you and me

Later...

I saw the pain in your eyes
When no one else could
And I stood incredibly still
Tried not to move an inch
While I did my best to get inside
And figure you out
In that moment I wondered
If you knew that I could see
And if you remembered
That I would always be
The person with the skill
To know it all without trying
And just for a second
Quiet and ever so faint
There was an acknowledgment
Although it was glazed
Followed by yet another round
Of harshly thought out words
Thrown in the direction of me
And my silly little heart
But it's never been in me
To hold that against you
So I nodded - tried not to wince
Flashed you a smile
One you tried hard to miss
And I watched you turn
Then head for the door
And I suddenly had one last thought
"I'm always around"
I remember I said
Though I'm not sure if you heard me
Before you left
Or maybe you did
But at the time it didn't matter
Time changes many things
And you found that out
Later

An Unexpected Warmth

A lot of unexpected things came from my trip back home and I'd like to take this moment to correct something I said last month on arrival into Sydney...

Because what I said then was, that I'd finally found a home... when in fact I'd had one all along - and now I am able to say with all of my being that I have two homes, both equally as important and equally special.
I fit right in the middle of two worlds and regardless of the trouble it can at times cause, I guess I am lucky to say there is more than one place in the whole world that I feel safe and loved.

My trip home (to Sydney) and the past few weeks have been so much more than I ever expected. I caught up with so many people who are really special to me and I smiled more than I have in awhile. This visit, I also remembered how to appreciate where you came from and what your past represents not only today but also for the future.

We have been through a lot... my past and I and not all things turned out how I'd expected (peachy) but while there are plenty of things I still regret or events that play on my mind that I was hurt by... in the end, none of that matters. The vital part of this story is the plot-line that remained from beginning to end with survival of the dramatic climax and all. (Not that this is the end of course!) The important thing is that everyone in life faces trialing days but it's those who weather the storm and come through it with more strength and understanding than ever that count the most.

We've had our rough times Sydney and I've loved escaping you in the past but I can say today with 100% of my heart that I will miss you and the love you showed me this past month.

Maybe all I ever needed was the return to my life of people from my past, along with a bunch of new but equally special friends mixed with weeks worth of smiles, music, photos, dancing and all the people I love in one place. (Well not quite ALL.)

I have been in the past, am still today and probably always will be the naive fool who wants to believe everything is as great as it seems in the moment. And curse or not, and unsure if it all will last - I'm loving what I refound and I hope with all my might that it stays exactly the same. It's been awhile since I belonged and even though it's just the beginning... I'm loving every minute of it.

See you soon my beautiful Sydney - you will be missed.
xo

To the past, future and today.

Some people think time changes everything to a point where it's all too late. Straight to the point where there's no turning back, where all bets are off and everything is out of reach.

These people may be right... after all, who am I to tell anymore?

Though I don't believe life is always this way... there has to be a reason why we all have a past and a reason why we still think of it today.

There may never be a chance to dive back into the days gone by in the way we hope, but perhaps there is a chance to revisit those times while maintaining a smooth and steady transition into the future... whatever it may bring.

Alternatively, who am I kidding? Maybe everything is intertwined for a reason - beyond our control - maybe it's written in the stars and maybe destiny really does exist.

I guess I'm as clueless as I always was... now let me love today for what it is, has and will be.

Cheers - to the past, future and present!

It's not the moon...

But it'll do.

Home is where your heart is...

I left home today and the reason I say this is because perhaps my perception of 'home' has changed. I say this, because today I left him.

It's not like the famous 'airport-goodbye' is a scene I am unfamiliar with, in fact it's quite the opposite.
It is however, an event I don't enjoy. And no matter how well you think you know it, or how ready you appear to be for it... I don't think you can ever predict it 100%. I mean, you can try but the accuracy of the actual event isn't always as you'd had pictured in your head. Sometimes it's harder and at other times I guess it's easier but either way it's emotive.

I've left Sydney (my home of 18 years) plenty of times in the past 5 years and I still remember clearly the ache and initial shock of that very first time I left - knowing I was walking away from such a safe little nest. Today I revisited that pang of 2004 - in fact not even a full hour ago I felt my heart sink once more because I left home again, only this time it wasn't the home called Sydney.

Because after all the years of ups and downs, ins and outs and full-circle roundabouts, I finally feel right where I belong - which is exactly where I always hoped I'd end up. And I'm not scared anymore of admitting that he is my home.

Only now because of this, the leaving 'him' part is even harder because despite how hard the living-in-a-new-country-with-nothing-and-no-one is, it simply doesn't compare with leaving the home I have found with him - in his heart.

All in all, this sucks... but I guess what I can take away from this is confidence; in us and in my own heart for that matter.

Afterall, isn't that all I really write about anyway? Love; finding it, losing it, needing it, wanting it, hating it.

Maybe I haven't been writing a lot lately because I found it - and maybe I wrote in the times I lost it, wanted it, needed it, waited for it and today - I've come full circle; tackled the rollercoaster, out-chased the crazy loops and have found again what I found all those years ago.

Only this time; stronger, sure and definitely more in love than I had dreamed possible.

What else do you say when you don't have to wonder about love anymore? Maybe that's the point... maybe you don't wonder... maybe you just live it.
Live, laugh and love.

Oh there is one more thing..........

I love you - a thousand times over.
xxx

Sleeping and the Internet

Sleeping is so hard when you're not used to it and the Internet does not help with such a problem.

The dark hours seem to be the perfect time to be alive and the silence is in many ways soothing.

Though the wee hours of nightfall can also be lonely. It wouldn't be so bad if there were people to share the time with. Though if there were... it may lose it's appeal.

Perhaps that is what makes the darkness so alluring. It's mystery, stillness and the empty hours to fill for your own. To think for your own. To live for your own. Without the rest of the world interrupting.

I suppose our generation don't know the meaning of true loneliness though.

Perhaps the day the Internet is disconnected once and for all we will finally understand the true meaning of loneliness and on this day, maybe we will hope for light instead of the dark.

No matter how dark, lonely and hopeless we feel, I believe none of us here understand these feelings to their full potential and we can blame the Internet for this.

Thanks Internet... what a help you've been. I may be connected to you, but I'm certainly not as connected to myself or the real world like I should be.

Love at 16

At 16… are you really ready for a relationship of such intensity? When I was 16, I believed whole-heartedly yes, it was possible – more than possible – in fact, I’d go as far as to say I thought it was “normal” to be passionately and irrationally in love at this age.

Then again, what is normal anyway? It’s something which at 16 I certainly wouldn’t have had an answer to - even if I’d have told you I did - and surprisingly enough, or perhaps not so… at 23, I still don’t have an answer to, so perhaps we’ll save that thought to ponder on a rainy day.

The thing is though, in so many TV shows, movies and sometimes even in real life you will hear adults tell these 16 year old youths that they couldn’t possibly understand what love is – let alone be in, or maintain a relationship with the level of maturity required to actually LOVE someone.

There are parts of this statement, which at only nearly 24… parts of me, sadly, already agree with. How could a person of the innocent and tender age of 16 possibly understand what is expected from a relationship and feel or know how to identify the presence of love?

Then I remember what I was like at 16 and realise perhaps I am getting old and becoming shallow. Could it not be as we gain the “maturity and wisdom” of age, we lose the purity and truth of youth with its unlimited hope led by heart not mind?

And I can’t help but think perhaps it is not love that we learn to find but that it is that kind of intense love we wind up forgetting - because maybe it’s just easier to. Heartache seems immature to dwell on in the adult world – so why risk it when sensibility is a possible and highly recommended option?

Love is around and always will be in so many different forms and that seems to be - as we grow older - what we take comfort in and what we pride ourselves on knowing we have; the love of our families, our children, our friends and even our pets. While we go to bed every night forgetting entirely the feeling of a first kiss or the potent sense of a first love.

As we get older, there are more responsibilities both in our own lives and in the lives of our partners and our perspectives change along with those responsibilities.

We grow up, buy houses, get married and eventually have children. The question is then no longer “Do you want to stay at my house on the weekend or shall I stay at yours?” or “Lets go to the movies and kiss in the love-seats” but “Will you take (insert first child’s name here) to ballet class on Saturday morning while I do the groceries?” “How will we pay for that? On credit or with cash?” “Shall we get a swimming pool installed?” “I’d really like to build a garage” and lets face it… regardless of the love that exists between these couples at these moments… it’s no longer the love we felt at 16 when the world was an uncomplicated place and our lives were completely carefree.

It has since become a different sense and meaning of the word LOVE.

We become practical, perhaps not because it is what we desire but because it is expected of us and along with our new found practicality and maturity comes what in our opinion is the right to tell our children that what they’re feeling at 16 couldn’t possibly be real love.

But are we in fact the ones who are completely wrong?

TBC…

Your Last Message

Your last message
Was the best I’d had in years
And then as quickly as you’d come
You’d vanished again
And were gone from my life
In the way you had been before
Gone…
And years worth of misunderstandings
Never able to be made clear
Left…
Just a failed prospect
Of ever opening the door
And a wilted picture
Left hanging on the wall
With a future that points us
In the direction of the fog
So we’ll stay this way forever
Just...
Two kids unable to get themselves together

The Stumbling Fool

LOVE STRUCK
STUMBLNG FOOLS
PUPPY LOVE
IMMEDIATE INFATUATION
YOUNG HEARTS
POUNDING CHESTS
NERVOUS STANCE
BUTTERFLY STOMACH
DEEPLY INHALED BREATH
OUT WITH A SIGH
UNSTEADY FOOTING
HEART HANGING
ON A ONE TIME LOVE
THAT IS DOWN TO AN ART

Un-expectation

Never been a fan of expectation.
When you expect things, there’s more chance of winding up disappointed
Because expectations are so often just fantasies
Moments you create in your own mind to soothe nerves
Or to mentally prepare yourself for what may be
Just about to happen -
Danger!
Not because you may be unable to stick to the plan
But because the event you’ve envisioned may be 100% false
Completely misinterpreted in your own head
And expectations cause mixed reactions
Too mixed to be made sense of
Young and intimidatingly unsure
Feet all confused – ready to stumble
But never at the right time
Whoops!
Straight into the arms of the unexpected.

The Double Doors

The wood is hard
On the double door
And I mean literally
Pressed up against it
Amongst other things
Despite its cold and withered paint
A spot of warmth is found
Trust me, I would know
I was there, as were others
On far too many occasions
Between the double doors

It was naughty
With a thrill to it all
A tingle on her neck
And sweet air from his lips
Bad behaviour
With an extra kick
Whispers of nothing
The promises she’d wished
Keeping it quiet
In the small dark hall
Between the double doors

A sense of presence
The look of dare
Naughty boy appears
Form his naughty box upstairs
With silent lingering
And a touch of the same
He’s naughty to nice
Leading the way
Her hand in his hand
Off to their secret place
Between the double doors

Sly one could say
Perhaps even cheeky
And knowing it well
She continues discreetly
She is not the first
Nor will she be the last
He will never be tamed
It’s part of his charm
So she takes a deep breath
Puts her feelings to the side
And goes to kiss the rain…
With the naughty boy she had found…
Between the double doors

Time Travel

Sometimes life escapes us
Even if only for the shortest amount of time
And a thousand tiny images
Dart frantically before our eyes
Like the lively happenings
And brightly lit lights
Of the bustling busy city
When time travels at this speed
We are unable to breathe in
The true scent of life
And what was intended for us
Take a moment of still
Even though the world outside
Is harsh and wont stop to take you in
We will all feel better in the morning
If we just breathe

Don't Know?

I didn’t think you’d be everything I would ever need. Nor did I think that the look in your eye would amount to anything at all. The pulsing within my chest is something I was sure I had fabricated in my own mind and the feeling in the air when we were together is something I became very good at ignoring. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t so much ignoring as it was keeping quiet or accepting the situation as it was.
And the situation as it was, was that we could never be. For many reasons that made perfect sense and for many of the same reasons that didn’t.

All the time we had spent in that dark room, sitting opposite one another discussing our lives and confessing our truths is a time I could never forget. Much like the look in your eyes, which is until this day, etched into my brain. The intensity and passion behind that look summed up everything for me and I would have been lying if I said I didn’t think you saw it in me too.

I was not an innocent part in this play we had written for ourselves, nor did I relish in knowing the trouble it could very well cause, should we place even one toe wrong. Yet without force or effort at all, the words continued to flow, regardless of the learnt and deeply imbedded better judgement.

The innocence and purity of us was like a soothing waterfall… constant and strong. And we found a way, despite the differences and all the outside challenges, to remain covered in the infinite waters flowing around us.

If only it had been so easy to dive beneath the surface and live forever in the depth we had found.

We both knew however that it was not something that would ever go anywhere or lead to anything more and that’s what made it all that much harder and perhaps all the more intense. We both knew the calm and serenity we had created to cushion ourselves would not be that way forever. Though I don’t suppose we expected the tides to turn as aggressively as they did or that the clouds would bring with them such an angry kind of rain.

I lost you somewhere… deep in the water during the storm and my heart ached for you everyday after that. Although I am sure the absence of us from your life was as difficult for you as it was for me… time finds a way to bury itself deep in the walls of everything – our existence included. With an armful of this ‘time’ and a heartful of patience, I guess the perfection in anything can be slowly removed and the picture of perfection can fade quicker than had ever been wished.

As I stretched out my arms out strong in the direction of you, my heart skipped a beat as I realised you were no longer there - the waters had taken you – this time, too far to ever go back...

TBC...

Have The Guts

In my next life…
Maybe I’ll have guts;
Guts to do the things I can’t in this one
The guts to be the person I had hoped for myself
Without a stomach full of regret
And this is not me giving up
This is me accepting
Accepting that life is going forward
But my dreams continue to drag on the ground
Far behind where my feet are presently planted
Acceptance is important
Without it we would only know how to grieve
Grieve for the unfulfilled dreams
And lifeless hope
We lost somewhere along the way
During this life long journey
Forever wanting and craving
The chance to be bigger
And better than the day before
But accepting makes it somehow okay
That today is just today
Although our connection to it has been lost
And our paths mislead
We realise a part of us is missing
But find the strength to carry on
Trudging forward like soldiers
Directly through the mud
With heart and the guts to fight
And when the last breath is taken
If the battle has not been won
I will lie still upon the ground
And know that in the next life
I will have the guts…
The guts to do it right

Time To Let Go

Why weren't you waiting?
Why weren't you waiting there for me?
You never told me
You never told me where you'd be

I look around this empty space
Holding in my heart
Thoughts I must now erase
Run into my arms
And make this not so real
Without your love
I don't know how to feel

When a heart stops loving
It's time to let go
When your hands stop shaking
It's the only way to know
It's time to let go
Oh it's time to let go

Why
Is all that echoes in my head
What is there anymore
When all that was left
Is now dead
My heart can't beat without your love
To pick me up
And hold me high above

But when a heart stops loving
It's time to let go
And when your hands stop shaking
That is how you know
It's time to let go
Oh it's time to let go

It's too late, now it's too late
It's too late, to take back all that's been done

I'm too late, you're too late
We're too late, to turn us back into one

And when your heart stops loving
It's time to let go
When your hands stop shaking
It's the only way to know
It's time to let go
Oh it's time to let go

Please let me go
My hands have stopped shaking
And this is how I know
That it's time to let go

I Like You

I thought of you today
As I gazed out my kitchen window
I like my kitchen window
And come to think of it
I like you too
Now I don't need my kitchen window though
To remind me of you
I think of you everyday
And when I'm thinking...
I'm wondering...
If you like me too?

If you love someone…

... do it properly…

And mean it… with your heart wide open.

Know… that if you have the balls to admit or say out loud… those three small words that can mean so much in this life, you better be ready to deal with exactly what they mean.

Love is not a topic that should be taken lightly and a heart is not a chew toy for the prowling dog. When will this lesson be learnt, once and for all… and without fail?

There are no excuses anymore for why people hurt others. We know better and yet still, the same mistakes are being made, day in and day out.

Love is not as complex as the mind may have us believe… and nor is the heart or its workings. Its simplicity is beautiful, should you stop long enough to really listen to the beating inside a chest or the sparkle from within the eyes. Love is art at its finest and most pure.

If you think you might love someone, do your best to make sure it’s for real and take some time remember what loving someone means…

If you love someone, don’t lie about it… true love discovers all in the end.

If you love someone, always tell the truth… it gives love the chance to stay pure.

If you love someone, please don’t hurt them... it’s never worth it in the end.

If you love someone and you do hurt them… don’t do it again… and if you do, the chances are you don’t really love them after all.

If you love someone, say it out loud… honesty really is the best policy.

If you love someone, don’t play the games you think you’re so cool for playing… games are only fun as long as you have players but a game always ends with just one… and being alone isn’t as cool as it might seem today.

If you love someone, find a way to show it everyday… because one day they may be taken from you without warning.

If you love someone, don’t give in to temptation… what is tempting for you, is torture for the one you love.

If you love someone, think of that person and not only of yourself… the choices you make aren’t only affecting you.

And if you don’t love someone… that same someone you did once love… you’re not the only person this has happened to. - What comes next is sad and painful but has been done a thousand times before… and everyone will be okay with time.


If you have loved someone deeply in the past, and feel a deep love for them still to this day, remember it and know it happened for a reason… we wouldn’t be who we are without our great loves.

Love is a pure and white canvas that should be well kept. When you love and exchange those pretty little words, you’re giving each other a paintbrush with full access to the soul and the chance to make art direct from a beating heart.

The day you find yourself yearning to paint on another’s wall is the day you’ve scribbled your first graffiti on the canvas that lay there first.

Put down the brush and give someone else the chance to paint it white again, because there will always be another artist waiting in the wings for their chance to dream big and love even bigger.

If you love someone, sometimes you have to let them go… and this is to keep the love fair.

Love should never be selfish… and if it is, then it isn’t really love.

And in the end, if you still choose to love… then please… at least do it properly.

A Dangerous Look

What is this look and why exactly is it so damn dangerous?

Trick question though because you all know exactly what I’m talking about.

A dangerous look is ‘THE’ look. The look we have all given… or been given. The one that can make hearts… or break hearts.

It’s the look that can mean more than words and is often the auto green light for passionate yet unreasonable movement of the limbs.

It’s the look perhaps you got from the first person to ever have a crush on you... or that same look you perhaps gave to the new next door neighbour on first sighting.

It’s the look you get when passing someone in the street that happens to catch your eye… or the one you drunkenly give to the packed room of a club while you dance freely to your favourite tunes.

It’s the look you give the person who knows you best and the look they give you right before they kiss you.

It’s the look some of us love to give… and others of us love even more to receive.

That same look that many of us hate… and others of us encourage and embrace.

A ‘dangerous look’ is usually fun though… intentional or not, as it brings with it the mystery of the unknown and the excitement of what is sometimes even frowned upon.

It’s the danger in this look that in fact makes it so appealing… yet is also exactly what forms caution.

And I guess this dangerous look can be almost any look you want it to be, as long as it brings with it the intensity that only the eyes know.

So what do you do with it then?

People choose to do a number of different things with this look. Some use it to their advantage and know exactly how to work it. Others shy away from it for reasons that can vary from intimidation to fear of the end result.

But no matter the way in which a person chooses to use it or not, the key is noticing it’s presence at all.

There’s a distinct difference between a normal look and ‘THE look’ and it’s far too intense and has way too many meanings to be defined so precisely or directly.

But it is a look that I am sure you can relate to and next time you catch the eyes of someone else, stranger or not… and if your heart happens to skip a little beat… you may just be the victim of a dangerous.

Remember though… a little danger never killed anyone. It may actually just be the shake up your life needs.

Love in the City

What do you do when you are in love with a person?
But not the city...

Love is complex... so are cities.

While the world sleeps...

When the world is quiet
And the sun has gone to sleep
Your eyes still find a way
To see me in the dead of night
And burn right through my core

My heart beats for you...

You make complete sense to me and I feel nothing but safe in your world...

With you I could never be alone.

Could standing still fix all of our problems?

Would standing still maybe be better for us?

Is the possibility of pain worth the try?

Or is playing it safe the way to live life?

Safe... but forever on the move.

Better Than Us

You reached into my soul
And pulled my insides out
With a single glance
I lay naked on the floor
Stripped of my dignity
And all that had been hidden for so long
Raw emotion free for all to see
And the words I was unable to say
Were found out anyway
Because it was you
And your eyes see it all in me
There's no running
When you're in the room
And no lying
Because your depth knows better of me
It's the same old song
The story of a love that could never be
And no one knows the pain of that
Better than you and me

Guilty Pleasure

The heart wants what it wants...
The body just follows suit

How...

How did I ever find you...

And what's more...

How did you never let go?

Why weren't you there?

In that moment I thought you'd never miss

Willing it into repair...

Why do you think it all panned out the way it did?

It seems strange sometimes... and even more odd that either of us still remember....

It makes a person wonder what it all means... and how we're supposed to know something is right... with enough time left, not to screw it all up.

When you screw it up once... is there ever any turning back? Can you repair something that was once damaged so entirely?

Who really knows anymore? All I seem to know is that everytime I think I've got it all sorted out... everytime I think perhaps I'm finally headed down the right track... I stumble, fall and realise maybe I'm not where I am meant to be.

I graze my knees and wonder if all this walking is getting me anywhere at all... anywhere other than laying in the dirt again with grazed knees and eyes full of tears.

Ever wonder if anything really changes at all?

Or am I just being dramatic?

In a Heart-Beat

I'd fall for you in a heart-beat
Love you for all the rest of time
I'd cherish and adore you
Show the whole world you're mine
I'd fall asleep at night
Right there by your side
I'd wait with you til morning
Greet the day and its sunlight
I'll always be quirky
A little strange and at times a geek
But I promise I'll love you
For all of my heart-beats

Distance

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder... this may be so... but what happens when it's distance you have but not what you seek?

What happens when there's a distant feeling lingering in the room but you want so much to feel as though the air is bringing with it hundreds of that one special person to fill all the space?

Then sometimes the fantasy breaks and reality sinks in and all of a sudden, you wonder if the distance just got too big somewhere along the way...

Now I wonder... how do you bring back together two worlds you had hoped would never part?

When I Was With You

What if we could go back
Live it all through one more time
I wish our love had been caught on tape
I would play it on repeat as I fall to sleep
And when it came time for it to end
I'd push rewind and do it all again
My heart never fluttered more
Than it did when I was with you

Take Care of Me

I need to take control of my own destiny

Inside Me

If my heart didn't see yours again for the rest of forever
It wouldn't change a thing
Because your place in my heart is never-ending
And will always belong inside of me

Stay the Same

Please believe in me like you always have
Knowing you're there gives me strength
To carry on hoping

For The Second Time

Take my hand
Take me for a walk
Down the streets
We used to know
Smile like the sun
Knowing all we have
Feeling the rush
Coming back
Let the thought of us
Change my life
For the second time

Choices

Everyday we are faced with choices and regardless of their size or the form in which they come, these choices will somehow, always hold relevance in our lives. Maybe not today and perhaps not tomorrow, but eventually the choices we make today, have the ability to transform IT all... forever.

The thing with choice is, there's really only ever you to blame for the decisions you make and the outcomes they produce. It's all about taking action and giving your gut exactly what it wants. Or is it?

Maybe it's better to ignore the desires we all harbour from deep within and play dumb for all eternity. It may not feel as good or as wild, but it has to make the most sense right?

Just because YOU may be feeling a moment of craziness, does not mean the rest of the world is feeling it right along with you. Besides, not everyone appreciates such honestly, even if you yourself welcome it.

A choice can be life altering for not only the person making the choice but also those around them and this is why the ability to choose should never be wreckless, nor taken for granted.

It's all about thinking and seeing through clear eyes with a clear mind. It's the only way to make choices that hopefully wont have devastating effects.

I've always been the 'thinker' kind but every now and again I too have made bad choices based on the poor judgement of an erratic heart-beat. I've believed forever that there couldn't possibly be another way to live - that we must all forever act and live, purely off instinct.

As I grow older, I suppose I have lost the innocent, child-like quality of believing that spontaneous action carries no consequence. I've come to realise the heart is fragile and should never be tampered with intentionally, especially if the possibility of it's tampering holds a negative effect.

If we were all free spirits put here to dance in and between a garden of roses for the rest of time, perhaps irrational fluttering of the heart resulting in gut wrenching decision making may be shone upon rather than frowned upon. This sadly isn't the case though, hence we all must learn to think rather than dance through life.

Unfortunately the heart knows no boundaries to this dance which is why the mind creates a safe circle around it, to ensure the decisions made by you or I, are are the best for all concerned.

Just because we may not act in ways we secretly wish we could, does not mean the thoughts do not exist. I suppose this is when those thoughts become dreams... dreams that follow your soul into its slumber and dance alongside you throughout the night.

Yes, these thoughts definitely exist... they're just not practical enough to follow through in the day-light hours... and I'm not sure they ever will be.

So we'll continue to dream by night and hopeful think by day knowing that our secret desires will appear to us in the hours kept shut by closed eyes... and we'll continue to live, love and learn this way... until the end of time.

And there it was... the sun - it shone.

With each day that the sun shows its effort by rising,
So too should we.

I wont wait

The day you tumble to your knees in regret
Is the day you realise you've left it all too late
And time waits for no man
Least of all you

Never more than once.

You can't undo every mistake you've made in your life
All you can do is try your best not to let it happen again.

It was grand...

What happened to the times in our lives when not a lot went wrong?
These times were grand and more spectacular than any other.

Wide open time

Everyone should take a road trip in their life
There's a lot of time to think out on the wide open roads.

Blank loss

Sitting...
Watching the fire burn out is like watching you leave and fade out of my life
While staring blankly...
And reliving the time when our love wasn't enough to see us through
Leaving it...
To melt down into a puddle of nothing
Left stranded and empty

I'd do it again...

I'd love to retrace the steps we once walked
Down the path that lead us
To where our hearts first met

All in a blink

What if you missed a lifetime of what could have been?

Airports

What is it about airports that I find to be so peaceful? Because when you think about it, the airport could be seen as one of the loneliest places.

Is it that I’ve spent so many of my younger years travelling with my family that I feel that child-like comfort and excitement when visiting the airport? Or is it the many life-changing trips that I’ve made on my own overseas that make me think of good times associated with this place? Whatever it is, I adore it.

Don’t get me wrong I’ve had many sad moments within these airport walls too. I’ve shed more than a few tears before hopping a flight and leaving behind a world that I know so well.

I hate leaving, not to mention being left and yet it is strange how liberating it can be.

It’s like suddenly, off I am and mid flight I always realise I’m half way between my two worlds. Between the places and faces that mean most to me in my life. What is to be made of these quiet moments of dancing thought?

I’ve got loved ones spread all over the world now, so I guess you could say there’s always somewhere to run should I require it. But away from land… up in the air, it’s usually just me. Which in everyday life doesn’t happen all that often and to be honest, never really has.

Perhaps it is up high, in these moments that I should feel truly at home or at peace? Not at the airport but in fact all those thousands of miles up in the air, hovering somewhere over a far-off land. Or maybe this is the time I should feel most alone? It’s always one extreme or the other with me and somehow, I am never fully convinced either way.

Being alone is one of my greatest fears. I have always been completely terrified of it. Scared of having no one to turn to and no place to run. I’ve been afraid of not having my life mapped out to ensure 100 percent comfort of commitment in every sense. This still frightens me, more than almost anything else. As I grow older, I hope to come to terms with this fear and face it in a more adult-like manner, rather than hopping a plane and leaving life in the habitual ritual I’ve created for myself.

Up there though, I lose all control and am forced to face those fears head on, completely alone. Up there… it’s just me, and the sky. Circling above the big bad world that awaits beneath. I hope to learn to how to embrace this level of freedom with my feet planted firmly on ground someday. For the moment though, the airport is my escape and the plane, my partner in crime.

Maybe this is why I’m so comforted by flying. Perhaps this is the one time in life when I am truly alone, left with nothing but my own thoughts and am forced to find a confidence I do not possess daily.

We’re always running out of time in our everyday lives, but in the air, it feels as though time does not exist. There’s nothing more precious than time if you use it correctly, so maybe this is my time to make the most of what it is my head is trying to tell me.

This morning as this ancient looking plane took off high into the air, I looked out the window and noticed a rainbow. Sometimes you ask for a sign and sometimes, although rarely, the world actually listens and gives you it.

I have had in the past and will continue to have life-altering experiences both in the air and on land, with people I love dearly. These adventures will always begin here… in an airport just like this one. In this brightly lit, bustling and timeless construction that opens its doors to the world every, single day. The nice thing about the airport is not knowing, who you may meet, why you meet them or when it’s going to happen. The world is smaller here, yet holds greater opportunity without the boundary of time.

If you take a moment and look around, there are a thousand stories waiting to be told. Some may be sad, some may be happy and some may be the stories told by children beaming with excitement regardless of the ungodly hour, which in that moment they stand. Perhaps they are stories that have become routine in someone’s life or maybe they are completely new. Perhaps though, the story is only half written, a little like my own and the transition is just another stop on the map of life. A quick touch down, check-in or stop-over before its time for the next chapter to begin.

Maybe some stories don’t know exactly where their journey will take them, but a plane with a direct route is a place to start. Or if nothing else, maybe it’s a place to sit in limbo while your brain scurries to figure it all out. A time waster, a manipulator of time, a spot where it can be twisted to suit the individual.

Sometimes I wonder if the many people flooding these halls think like me, or if they’re all too busy thinking about their own destinations.

It’s not that I don’t, because I too think of my destination… but in a different way. I think of my final destination, the place where my soul finds exactly what it’s always been looking for. There to me, is where I hope to find. I may still be far away from this place but the adventures in between are enough to keep me occupied for now.

There’s something nice about imagining a life like this, a different life. A different reason to fly. A different person waiting for you at the other end, with open arms and a smile because they know you’re everything they’ve been missing. Yes, there’s certainly something nice about airports and the unpredictable possibilities they can hold. But most of all, the life and experiences they are capable of bringing into your life.

As I said, there’s a certain peace I find here… and one day I believe I will get on one of those planes and finally know exactly where I am going… and not only that, but be one hundred percent content with my mid-air, alone moments of clarity.

I often think of a particular line from a favourite song of mine… that for whatever reason has always struck a chord with me and I’m left with the words ringing like a bell in my head.

“Airports see it all the time when someone’s last goodbye blends in with someone’s sigh, because someone’s coming home, in hand a single rose and that’s the way this wheel keeps working now.”

And isn’t this just the truth?

The story told before its time... a story of me

What do you do with a story that you knew was told too early? Or with a feeling you know was too intense for the time at which it was felt?

Maybe you think about it and spend the next few years reliving it, over and over in your mind or heart until it hurts… or maybe you put it away as far out of reach as you can, and try your hardest to move on with the life you’ve made and chosen for yourself.

Different people live their lives differently and different people make different choices. This doesn’t mean either is right or wrong. Maybe it means the timing is bad.

It also doesn't mean the story has been erased or any less important than it was all those years before.

My choice has always been to chase until there is nothing left. I chase until I eventually tear down anything that was once built up so high. I chase because it is what I believe and everything I feel within my soul. I would never leave if I were to not be left. I would stay for as long as the world would have me.

The world knows this and I think that’s the exact reason it ends up spitting me out. Or again… perhaps it’s down to bad timing.

I’ve been intense for as long as I can remember. My story was told too early, my intensity too much, my feelings too deep… what a disappointment.

Again with the time...

Maybe it’s not time any of us really need at all. Maybe time only delays us from finding what we’re truly destined to find. I have always relied on the notion that all any of us need is time. Time to heal, time to see, time to feel, time to recover, time to forget or time to discover. Time to live, time to laugh and more than that, time to love.

The more I live though, the more I begin to wonder if it is time we should place so much emphasis on or if time is the one thing holding us all back. I wonder if waiting for time to pass us by is keeping us far away from the lives the stars have mapped out for us.

I’ve found the most in my life once I stop looking, this is for certain. So maybe it’s not time at all. Maybe it’s the ability to stop seeking we all must aim for in order to find clarity.

Time and time again I have strived for greatness and not in the form most expect. Many people spend their lives striving for greatness in a literal sense. Not me, it’s greatness within I’ve spent my life searching for. It’s the knowledge of who I am really meant to be that I wish to possess. Why was I put here? And why do I do and feel in the ways that I do?

Love is my weakness and also my strength and has been for as long as I can remember.

I’ve loved in ways I believe many people would never understand. I love honestly and beyond reason. I love because it’s so often all that makes sense to me. But most of all, I love because I think people are worth it.

Love can cause pain though and I should know all about that kind of pain, as love will inevitably bring with it a sense of pain or loss. Especially for those who wear their heart on their sleeve in a manner similar to me. Not everything can be perfect forever afterall… or can it?

This is the question I have been pondering most often over the past few weeks. Why? I’m still unsure of why exactly I can’t shake this feeling from my system but it’s becoming a topic I’m not sure I want to hide from anymore.

If I am the kind of girl who throws herself at love without an ounce of fear, why is it I cannot throw myself at the truth and every aspect of life in the same way?

I’ve always been afraid of the truth. Especially the truth that lies within my very own soul because, you may think you know yourself so well and then suddenly, if you look beyond the surface, you find something unexpected. Sometimes theses surprises are welcomed and other times they’re not the kind of outcomes you had hoped for.

Maybe this is why I am frightened of my own truth. For such a long time I’ve kept it trapped inside a girl who very few truly know. Perhaps I am now so far from knowing myself that I’m afraid of uncovering what has been lost incase what I find is something I’ve been running from.

Why do people run? Why do we run from ourselves and others? We spend our entire lives running without stopping long enough to think about why we’re actually doing it. We all hold fear inside, often without realising and what I want to know is if what’s hidden inside is worthy of our fear. Worthy of the sleepless nights we waste wide-eyed and worried.

We can only learn this though by facing it head on. By letting go and diving in, head first, eyes opened and arms stretched out wide. This concept is scarier than almost any other I could imagine and this is exactly why I have spent so long in hiding. What I’m learning now is… all this time I’ve spent lingering in the hopes of repair may have sent me backward. All this time, I may have been hiding from myself.

Time, it’s the thing I thought I was giving myself to recover and re-discover… and it’s the same thing that has taken just as much away from me.

Someone told me once that my life is waiting and I am just too scared to take that plunge. Maybe this person knew me better than I thought… there is definitely a lot to think about. Then again, isn’t there always? So much to do and say and think… and nowhere near enough time to do it in….

Tell the Truth...

When someone asks what it is you're thinking about... they're expecting something spectacular...

But if I ask you... I'm just looking for your truth.

If only you knew...

All the times I picked up the phone to call...

You wouldn't have been so alone.

Everything Forgotten

Sometimes everything you thought you knew and everything you were 100% sure of ends up being everything you've forgotten and everything you were never taught.

Another You

What do you do when you suddenly see the world through the eyes of another...
The eyes of another you...
From times gone by.

A little something I'd like to share...

I've never been able to explain the bond that exists between my brother and me.

The closest I've ever come to describing it is that he's like my twin, only born two years apart.

Then I opened a card he wrote me for my 23rd Birthday...

I've always thought perhaps I have never been able to articulate what he means to me and my world because no one would understand. Then I read the card and realised he understands and not only that, but he also knows how to put it into words that I thought... maybe you would all get.

I know cards are usually quite personal, and indeed so is this one... however as words tend to be my life... I feel his words are ones that I'd like to share.


"Sister,

Someone who has enriched and enhanced a brother's life to no end.
You taught me, cared for me, helped me and above all loved me.
My other half, I would not have grown to be the person I am without you.
Today you inspire me more than ever, the beautiful person you have become.
You have a better sense of self than almost anyone I know.
Life is full of suprises and forks in the road but no matter where ours take us we will always have our other halves.

Love you always and forever."

Pancakes

Why is it I always end up making pancakes for the people I love?

When I think back over my relationships... the memories of me standing over the stove (usually in my PJs) making the pancakes, are some of the fondest.

For some strange reason, making pancakes seem to symbolise peace and a happy heart... or at least to me they do. I relate that image to times when I was fully content within a relationship. I often found myself forming hearts in the pan while my head wandered off to that giddy place.

I only usually have the patience for pancakes when I'm on that kind of happy high. The high that only love can cause in me.

Funny isn't it? What pancakes seem to mean to me. They mean that warm, fuzzy and blissful feeling... that feeling of love.

If I ever made you pancakes... consider yourself lucky, it probably means I loved you a lot.

And if I haven't... there's always tomorrow. x

...

When all my dreams come true, the one I want next to me...



It’s you.

It exists...

Stare into my eyes...
Now try and tell me this isn't real...

Irrelevant Now...

Has it really been so long?

So long since that time when I understood you so well?

Would I still understand you today? Or is this new you, the real you?

It's funny how quickly time can past and how much can change.

As long as you're happy... but even that's questionable.

Maybe I never knew you enough to begin with?

It's irrelevant now anyway.

When not a lot has changed at heart

It's been far too long since I last blogged.

My life has been riddled with pages of media ethics, excel documents and powerpoint presentations and also a work place that treats me like a doormat.

These are all possible reasons for the lack of blogging as of late.

I am glad though that I am nearly through with the studying side of the scale and excited about what lies beyond the next 6 weeks.

I'm sure I will have plenty to say during the remaining six weeks in Sydney and the days following our departure.

I better anyway... because it's all I want to do. Write and write and write.

Nearly 2am... I am still awake... and the rain has just begun... funny, nothing seems to have changed.

the hideous humans

What I hate, is people who know nothing about you. Those individuals who presume to know everything about you, but who couldn't be further from the truth. What's worse is, they're usually people who don't actually know much about anything at all. It's somehow, always these people who tend to talk a lot. They talk and talk, but the many words they speak are nothing but wasted breath. A lifeless mumble and droning tone, ringing constantly in your mind. Empty, worthless, words.
These people are often some of life's nastiest. The cruel individuals, filled with cruel and dishonorable intentions. They tend to comment on situations that have nothing to do with them and they revel in the knowledge they have shaken a body of feathers.
What is the purpose of a life lead in such a manner?
It makes me physically ill. People like this disgust me.

People like this may waste their words, but people like this are a waste of our world.

Red Beast, White Heart

What is it to you
What I do with my life?
Your crazy, messed up hair
Springing in every direction
Like dead branches from a tree
You hide behind fire-enraged eyes
That light up at the chance to kill
In your murderous thirst
You hunt down your prey
You'll feast on their flesh
In the bloodiest of ways
Drink from their wounds
Chant before their remains
Giving yourself life
As you take theirs heartlessly away
So cold to touch
Is the lifeless shell you toss aside
The scene is bitter-sweet
Through the spectators eyes
As some are just like you
Bitter to the core
Rejected from the world
They relish in your beastly delight
While others hide in the corner
Wait for your storm to pass
Hoping for a ray of sunshine
Blessed with hearts of white
Feral like a cat
Who has been left alone to stray
Catching mice to feed on
Is your tormenting and hideous way
Chewing on your words
As you chewed up all of me
Spat me on the floor
For the whole world to see
You're not worth the light
I hold inside my soul
And maybe you'll never feel the pain
You inflict upon this world
But you may also never know the life
Of one who owns a pure white heart.

Crying at the make-believe world

I was just wondering, why people often cry in movies or at TV shows?Because I am guilty of this very thing, and it happens more frequently than I care to admit.

The other night I was watching a movie you might have heard of called "Marley and Me". A film in which, two of my favourite actors are the lead roles. It's about a dog though. A large part of it at least. Albeit an incredibly gorgeous dog, a dog... period. You'd think there would be some sort of further storyline to accompany such a bizarre concept, but no... it's kinda, purely about the dog. My boy and I were discussing throughout, how it could be likened to one of those terrible, G-rated, family movies that more often than not, go straight to DVD. I'm sounding harsh here, and I'm not meant to, because what I'm coming to is this; I am a big, wussy, wah-wah, cry baby. Even when watching a movie such as Marley and Me. Only, rather than watching a G-rated flick and crying for days about it, as I would have when I was 10, I am now 23 years old and it seems, not so much has changed.
Yes, I'm rather ashamed of myself, but at the same time, it's made me wonder WHY?

I cried at the end of Valkerie too you know, in fact, I completely lost it and exploded into breathless sobs... and I don't even like Tom Cruise! I also cried during most episodes of this years Biggest Loser and when I say most, I mean, my cheeks were wet more than they were ever dry! And the lastest was One Tree Hill, yep, that got me too! Every time. The episode when Peyton walks in to find her birth mother dead, now that was a killer! But again... WHY? What is my problem?

Why do we feel emotions so strongly even when what we're viewing has been created in a make believe world? Or is this a problem that lays solely with me?

When you find the answer, please let me know... I have a feeling my mind could benefit enormously from such knowledge. Perhaps then, the boy wont have to hold me in his arms as I cry uncontrollably while he does his best to hold back the bouts of laughter waiting to escape.

Yes, the ability to manage my over-emotional personality mixed with my over-active tear producing eyes, would be a skill I'd love to master.

Sleep...

So I haven't been sleeping very well lately and my brain has been trying to figure out the reason why. I couldn't really come up with a lot, at least nothing that made perfect sense or added up to "Bingo!" However, I feel the need to share the numerous possibilities with those of you who may also be in need of a good 8 hour sleep session.

My lack of sleep and ability to reform to the "normal" sleeping patterns of a regular human being could very well be linked to my new job. Yes, I'm working at a cafe once again, for those who were unaware. It's a Cuban influenced club/bar and their decor and "ooooh latina!" music is enough to keep me, even if the crazy, old, drugged-up, batty and homeless loons at the X make me wanna run in the opposite direction.
I've been working a lot of night shifts, which has of course completely screwed with 'the plan' of me seeing through the end of my six month Tafe degree as it is virtually impossible to come home at 2-6 in the morning and get up a few hours later. Although, it's not the getting up that is the problem. It's the fact that my body doesn't let me unwind for close to three hours after I step foot inside my house, let alone sleep. And yes, sure, my body wakes itself up again about 2 hours after I've drifted of.
Fact is though, the energy is what is then lacking. My eyes may be awake and to everyone else I may look ready to begin the day, but my insides are screaming out "No! Stay in bed! So tired!" and I obey. Therefore, screwing with my degree, and failing to get the simplist of tasts done. Example; cleaning mountains of clothes off cupboard, finishing half-done assignments and getting my ass to work again. In conclusion, I do agree that the work issue, is contributing to my sleep related issues of late.

However, I think there may be more to it than just that. You see, the time for me to leave Sydney is once again approaching and might I add, at quite the rapid pace! As I sit here in the dark, wheaty warmers snuggled around my tummy and toes in bed, I realise it is already the first day of June. June 2009. It feels like only yesterday I was returning from my last overseas stay and that was in April 2007. Over two years ago.

I'm realising more and more every day how much there is to get done before I leave. I always have a new plan, or idea... a task I need to complete and while the thoughts continue to pile and mount on top of me, the date to fly creeps closer and closer. Yet, I sit here, yellow sticky notes plastered over my computer background with a list that seems to be growing, rather than shrinking. It's no secret, this kind of thing would be enough to make even the most in control person panic, at least a little right? Or...?

So story continued, I was talking to the boy tonight and I realised, by the time we leave this house it will have been nearly a year that we lived in this building. Almost one whole year in this tiny box of a room which boasts the most beautiful balcony, of which we have never, ever used. In fact, I believe the boy's Mum used it more during her 3 week visit to Australia than we have, this entire past year. If a year can go so quickly, then why am I so nervous about leaving once again? I'm wondering if the nerves have something to do with my not sleeping. All that anticipation? All those unanswered questions?

You see, what I had planned for this past 6 months, was clearly unrealistic, however having thought them, and not completed all the thoughts I had planted in my head, has left me feeling a little low. More uneasy than low really. I planned to finish my course, of course! I also planned to have done a 'Teach English Overseas" course, a French course, a TV presenting course, a photography course and a creative writing course. Not to mention the 4 dance classes a week I had hoped to be taking... Oh also, the Yoga/Pilates 4 mornings a week, and gym on the other 3. What a laugh! I'm sitting here and I haven't done any of those things other than the first. Now that's just sad.

Perhaps that is why I am left feeling so dissatisfied... left with this sour taste in my mouth. It can be blamed on none other than myself of course and yes, for this I am disappointed.
So I guess I am scared that my plans for the next few months before I leave, not to mention the plans post departure, may perhaps sing-a-long to the same failed tune all those other great ideas did and I'll be left with another stack of superb plans, which like in the past 6 months, will NOT happen.

My mind doesn't appear to want me to rest though. It wants me awake at all times. It's as though if I so much as blink, my head believes I may miss something. To be honest, I think it's all this staying awake which is factoring into me missing out on things.
Maybe I do need to stay awake, but not in the typical sense. It could be, that I need to wake up and open my eyes to the things I've never considered, or expected from the world. For all I know, the unexpected may be exactly what I need. In which case,
I will then start predicting and pondering the pounce of that which is unexpected... this of course will then force the unveiling of such unknown tales, into expected territory... and expectations are, what I should be steering clear from. Correct? The twistered and tormenting tales of my brain confuse the hell out of me.

It's all a money thing you know, at the core of it all. As horrific as that sounds. Lets just say it out loud and then leave it open for discussion, but I personally, put it down to money. If someone gave me a loan of say... 20 grand, I'd be attempting all those big ideas and not only that, I'd be tackling them and triumphing every single time! Or at least that's the story I like to chew on for now. Prepare for me to spit it back out though, should I ever actually come into contact with 20 thousand dollars.

In my dreams though, all I really want to do is travel... and write. Take photos and inspire people when they're not feeling overly inspired. But most of all, I'd love to create a reason for myself and others to smile. The purest and most important kind of smile, the true kind. Sounds simple enough doesn't it? So why does it all require so much planning and time and money?

Oh this world continues to spin, this is true and as it does, it persists to blow my mind. Confusing me with every single shift. I plan on figuring it all out someday you know. Just you wait. I'll be the girl with a "I told you so!" flag dancing on her tippy toes from the highest viewpoint of the worlds tallest mountains.

But still I wonder, what is required from us all, while here on this earth? Maybe it's simple. Maybe it's sleep. So you can continue to dream. We all need sleep. Without it, the cross over between layering planes become hazey, and the potential for both lives, those of our dreams and those of our realities become harder to manage and may end up lost.
Juggling the two in perfect harmony may just be what we find in those unexpected moments... if we let ourselves.

You see, these are the child like moments I have so often, where I wish my mother would shower me with her kisses as I fall to sleep with the scent I know so well as hers, still lingering in the air around me. It's time to sleep now, wish me luck and beautiful dreams to accompany it.


"Nini, love you, sleep well, see you in the morning" - The perfect words which, thanks to my mother, will play forever in my head, for the rest of my days as I drift to sleep.

“and when I think now, of where I might be next year, I realise it doesn’t matter… because I’ll be alive”

A mountain. Two cars and a family. A pregnant sister-in-law, a chased-after Chinese dinner and a lack of the trees that, my mind knows, usually stand in place of the orange clay rock.

A local family of whom I had befriended closely the two younger siblings play a role in this story. Their presence is felt and although the face of my first crush, the middle child, lets call him T, is never seen, I know it is him who is wearing the red and white soccer-looking jersey. He is older and has a friend following him while his younger sister is still small. I notice this as she shows me her new high heels, in her upstairs bedroom, which when I look at the sole, realise is only a size 1 and a half.

There seem to be flashes of me as a child too, getting ready for what in my head, I believe to be a ballet concert. Instead, I am being dressed in what looks to be a mascots outfit, perhaps a bear or a something similar. I’m pushed out onto the football field where all the seats are filled with bodies clapping. The nerves flutter away and I smile. I’m so small, but so accomplished in this moment.

I’m now at a house, standing outside with familiar presences all around me. There is my Father to my right, who is standing the closest to the woman sitting in a chair in front of us all, yelling. She is ill, unable to remember who we all are and is screaming at us for it. I can sense my father is trying to calm her but she seems to be untameable. She’s confused as to why we are standing in her garden.

Flash to me staring at a large black board where pictures have been pinned. The pictures are of my life and people I’ve known. Not my life as it has happened in the world today, but the events of perhaps me on another level of existence. I look incredibly happy and so do the photos of others around me. We’re all posing and dancing with bright yellow sunflowers. We’re dressed in what looks to be, hippy-inspired clothing. Splashed with bright colours, like purple, red, yellow, orange and even brown. I’m wearing large sunglasses in nearly every picture and we all look incredibly free.

As my eyes return from the ground, I realise I am standing in front of the old lady once more, tears trickling down my cheeks as I explain to her who we are and how much we love her. I show her the pictures and let her know that without her, none of this would be possible; none of us would be possible. I cry as I tell her how happy we all are and how it is all because of her that we are this way. She’s a bitter old woman for not seeing that. I tell her we come everyday because we love her and unlike her, we remember the good times. She then begins to cry too.

Suddenly I am back in a car again, on the way to pick up a Chinese family dinner. My partner is driving in the seat next to me and there is a passenger whose company I can feel but I do not see. There is a car travelling slowly in front of us and the passenger in the back encourages F to overtake. He moves to the right hand lane and begins to speed up. He doesn’t know the roads as well as I do though. I gasp and yell, “No you can’t! Not around this bend! Please!” I yank on F’s shirt and he swerves back in at the last second, in time only to see the huge water truck on the other side of the corner. It’s big and red and a little faded, but I see it. I’m left panting from the ordeal. Another car enters from the laneway just near the bend. I know my pregnant sister-in-law is in it. My father is in it also. Seconds later and they could have been us; in danger. I know now that they’re safe and sense they are on their way to the same take-away dinner location as the three of us. I take a breath.

I find myself suddenly, standing in a garden. My mother’s beloved garden. Green and full of leafy hideaways. My mother is in a white linen dress and she speaks calmly and gently as she always has. We discuss life and the world as we so often do, before she relays to me that a visitor has been to see her.

F is in the garden while I’m talking things over with my mother, but he’s in the distance and he’s jumping frantically over rocks, towards the back of the property. He’s looking for his friends and calling to them for directions. They call back and I know he’s getting closer to them, but I can see flashes of his black shoes pounding the ground as if he were standing right next to me. I sense his footsteps so close that I reach out to grab him only he’s not there. My mum leans in to whisper to me and says, “He said to keep him posted”.

Any further thoughts are interrupted as my younger brother, my best friend and true soul mate, cries out for the attention of all in the garden. Everyone freezes and their eyes shoot toward J, where he stands, arms stretched either side of him, up and out into the air. He confesses his depressive state of mind. He weeps that he has lost all sense and is unable to see a clear future for himself. He admits he is entirely unsure of where he will be next year, because he doesn’t see himself anywhere next year. I am unable to breathe. My life stops in this moment.

I am sucked out of this time and into another. The happy pictures flash before my eyes once more and I begin to cry as I am faced with the image of myself, cradling the photographs of a better life. Holding on to the smiles, the colours and the sunflowers as though if I held tightly enough, I may be able to change the world. Tears gently roll down my face as I utter “It doesn’t matter where I’ll be next year, because I know now, I’ll be alive”.

I wake from this dream with indescribable fear throbbing through my veins. Fear for my brother and panic for his life. I debate for 3-4 minutes the idea of getting up to locate my phone and message him, to make sure he’s okay. After the long 3-4 minute debate I held with myself, I go in search of my phone. Found, I wake and write the text to my brother, at 3:03am Thurs 28th May 2009. I then open my laptop to churn out this wild, and most probably, only to me, frightening tale of lives, which strangely enough, seem to incorporate most people I know/knew or care/cared about in my life.

Maybe it’s not my brother I should be scared for? Perhaps my dream is telling me something about my own life? If so, is it my own life I should fear for? My baby brother has not replied, but I am hoping he is safe and warm in his queen sized bed, next to his girlfriend, in their 1 bedroom apartment, only a 15 minute walk from me here. To those I know/knew and love/loved, I do, honestly and desperately love you all.

PS – My brother messaged me at lunch today and he is fine. Although he commented that the time I had woken from this dream, was around the time he had gone to bed. Strange or?

Pretty Petty Pink Bloom

Something I really dislike is pettiness. Petty people. Petty behaviour. But most of all, petty excuses.
Petty words escaping from petty mouths, forming petty little riddles of a hypercritical and egotistical nature. If you have a problem, you may as well just say it... instead of playing the innocent petal that has been shaken from the bloom. They all held you in the center of the garden for far too long with your pretty pink blossom of a head shaking along in the confident air. You take them for granted, day in and day out. Adore your place among the green. You believe they owe you, their time and attention. You bathe in the shower of love and admiration they feed you. Soaking up their every drop. Have you ever thought, that just maybe this palm of safety, you so selfishly command, was not intended to purely please you? Have you ever dreamed, even for a moment, about a day when your absorbed existence would stop and think in depth of the one who belongs to the hand that you hold? Your pettiness is far beyond expectation but they love you for it still. Don't be so petty and naive to think that life will stay the same forever. The hand that you have adopted as your support deserves to feel the same in return and it's only a matter of time before that support is found.

Trust

"It's not so easy to get back into the ring, especially with the one who knocked you out in the first place."

Ouch

"I missed you Lucas Scott"

"Ooh I missed you too pretty girl"

We're worth it

Sometimes in life you just need a push or a shove to realise something. To put your world back into perspective. I like the world we have created for ourselves and I hate that sometimes I get caught in the black pit of despair. I promise to stop falling in though. I promise to try my best to stand by your side for the rest of our days, as strong as I can be... we're worth that.

I love you... x

Not even...

six thousand words a day can touch on the memories of times gone by...

too much to say, all the time has run out.

Deepest of all...

I'm going to write a book...

It may be called... "My Great Loves" or perhaps "The Workings Of My Heart" orrrr... "A Heart Born To Love" okay they're getting cornier, and sounding like a stupid romance novel. Although I suppose that is exactly what they would be... to an extent. Why don't I just snatch "My Heart Will Go On" and be done with it?

"Great Loves - By The Girl" ... mmm yeah, I can't think so much right now.

Anyway, I'm going to write a book... about those who inspired love to appear in me. Those who I loved or who loved me. The experiences I've had and the ways love has changed my life, or in some cases, kept me exactly the same.

I want to write about love because it's the most real emotion that exists in me. It's raw and real and is completely free of logic. Love flies, it soars high above us and is entirely unexplainable. All I've ever wanted was to glide along with it, right by its side, holding tightly the hand of one wanting to fly with me.

Some people may have been put here to dance, to finance, to talk, to listen, to lead, to follow, to change or remain the same, but I believe I was put here to love. To love in the purist way possible.

The people in my life helped me to get where I am today. Those I loved had enormous impacts on me and without them, I would be lost. They deserve the recognition. They deserve to know they were loved. It's my turn to speak now.

I'm sure no one will want to publish or buy this book which I am suddenly convinced I must write, but I am determined to understand myself and all I've been through. I want so much for all to know, I have always loved the deepest of all. x

If I were a mess...

Would you, could you still love me?
Or is it my formed stability you adore?

The milky white layering between lives...

Maybe I’m scared because I never got to tell my side of the story. Maybe it’s hard because I couldn’t trust. When a trust is taken from you once, it’s hard to go back to that safe place of believing 100%, without doubt and whole-heartedly. You’re always second-guessing, wondering if this time the words will be real, or if you’re about to get your heart broken again. It’s hard to learn to trust again. It takes so much work… and time, a lot of time. When you don’t have that time, things slip away. Not because they mean any less or because you don’t care anymore, they slip away because that lack of time lets them slip away. It’s so simple and yet complex beyond belief. There are too many factors to be considered before you lay yourself flat on the table, pure and free once more, in the same manner you did all those times before, in the past. You lay free of sin and pain, body the colour of flawless milky white, open for the taking. Hoping for a love so strong and passionate to wash over you, taking your innocence but leaving your purity. The milky white layering can only last as long as the love remains free of pollution. Once burnt, your skin is already tarnished. Now you lay flat on the table with flesh wounds. Less appealing to loves prospects. The damage heals over time or, at the least it does on the outside. Your flesh slowly begins to appear a little more together, still with visible bruising but not enough to turn love away. You find that love and passion once more, if you let it and you know this because you feel its waves rushing over your soul. It’s never the same as the time before… I think that’s because our bodies learn to heal on the outside but forget to build back the rest. What lives inside, is completely different. A heart that once illuminated the colour red brightly through the purist and whitest of skins doesn’t always light itself again in the way it once did. That heart slowly but surely loses its heat and vibrancy. No one knows what is going on inside because no one is inside. You get to a place when you can’t let anyone else in. So how can they judge you? How can anyone presume or assume things that they do not know? Presuming can be unhealthy. About as unhealthy as living a lie because you’re too scared to face the possibility of that light radiating the way it once did. Too frightened that everything you may have been looking for, could actually be staring you right in the face. My skin doesn’t feel as white or as pure as it once did and I blame time for this. Timing is everything. The heart aches, for what it wants and also often, what it knows… the rest depends on the timing. Maybe my heart never sat high up in my chest, perhaps I always carried mine on my sleeve and maybe that’s exactly why I stand where I am today. I’d give anything though to lay once more and have the spirit of true desires sweep over me like the most comforting blanket, curing a past and covering me once more in that innocent, white sheet of honest layering.

Comfortable

I loved you, gray sweat pants, no make-up, so perfect...

Our love was comfortable and so broken in
She's perfect, so flawless, I'm not impressed
I want you back...

Tiny Dancer...

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand

Hold me closer tiny dancer...

"Whole heartedly and consumingly"...

Some of the most honest and perfect words I have read in a long time.

Thanks for letting me read them... there's not a better way of describing how I see, feel and act... and there they were... words...written by someone other than me... who gets it too.

x

To love like us...

I saw the look of love in someones eyes the other night
I know this look because I've seen it before
I've seen it and I've felt it
I know this look like the back of my own hand
Because this kind of love
Is the love I live by
I've often wondered if others feel a love in the same way
As I myself feel it, intense and powerful as it is
Wreckless at times and often vacant from logic
In this night I realised it was not only me
Who feels passion in the same way as I do

She was kind, anyone could see it in her eyes
And loving beyond reason
I think we all believe we're cursed
When we're born to love in such a way
We are cast upon by a spell so powerful
It is able to shake our entire being
And create pictures of desired fantasies
Dreams about a land where those we love
Will love us back in the exact same way
Once we hit that almighty and powerful love
There's no turning back
But often no reason to stay

We do not choose the people we love
Our hearts make those decisions for us
That's what creates its honesty
And the power of this very emotion
This innocent form of feeling
Is what makes a gentle heart beat faster
The purity of love is only held within the hands
Of those willing to be hurt by love
The knowledge of such pain to come
But ability to continue to do so
That is the blessing we do not, in these times see

And although we never seem to love
Those, who love in the way we do
We should never let our truths be changed
Or altered in order to create realism
Where the fantasy once stood
As to live a modified form of yourself
Would be the ultimate lie
A lover is a dreamer
And a dreamer does not live to lie
To love like you is true
I saw it in your eyes

And although they might be blind to your depth
Or unwilling to change their ways
I would love for you to know
That when the night becomes cold
When the years continue to go by
It will be you who stands in the back of a mind
A mind full of regret
As they realise that, to love
In the way that we do
Is the greatest gift of all
Never change, you're perfect the way you are
Even if not seen, by the one who you adore

A New Place

Feel its soothing sensation
Fall down upon your skin
Washing away everything you know
And all that you have seen
Relish in the seconds of pure bliss
Pride yourself for dancing beneath it
Wrapping your body through and beyond
All you expect from this moment
And curled inside its clarity
You will have found a new place to hide

Perfection...

She is... quite simply... perfection at its finest.

She was broken

She was broken
But didn't see it at all
Her insides strong
Fighting on
Outsides weak
Her future looking dreary and meek
Bones brittle and small
Dark circles looping the holes
Where her eyes used to sit
Up high on her face
Where they once sparkled and shone
Bringing her being to life
Over time the dark grew and grew
Along with the voices inside her head
Enveloping all that she knew
Taking her flesh as its very own
Creating a sea of black
In an ocean which the light once made clear
Robbing her soul of all it could be
It rained in her eyes
Even on the days there was sun
And the people around her expected
To see this storm on her face
For all her days to come
But she remained in her way strong
Built her brick walls up high
Tall enough to shield her pain
From nosy and peering eyes
She hid herself from life so well
That when faced with a mirror
Not even she recognised
The hideous beast
Which she, herself had created
Haggard and hallow
Was the picture of her empty shell
Cradling inside her lonely and cold heart
Which she'd trapped and left to die
Inside her abused and mutilated body

Rainy Memories...

It's raining... and it's coming down pretty heavily. I love that sound. Rain heavy on a tin roof. It reminds me of my parents house and a cuddly comforting feeling warms my heart as I think of those misty mountain days I grew up wishing for. Nothing is quite like this sound... nor the image I've built in my mind to accompany its delivery.
Those were the days I felt comfort in a way I could always count on. Warmth regardless of the temperature outside. So many good things coexist in my mind with those days.
When I was a child, a day like this may have occured during school hours. We all would have eaten our lunch in our classrooms rather than outside and the rooms would always appear more brightly lit than usual due to the intense darkness created by the commanding clouds. I loved eating lunch in the class room. I felt close to everyone in these times. A whole class sitting within four built up walls... and when our day would come to an end, Mum would be there waiting for me and my brother; ready to take us home.
Seeing my Mum's face was always a comfort in itself, not to mention how comforting her scent was. She'd always have the biggest grin on her face and give us a big kiss and cuddle. Usually on these days, she'd take us to the Kurrajong Bakery and buy us something warm like meat pies or spinach quiches. We'd take them home and eat them while she got ready to teach. Often she'd have already lit the old-school oven fire and as soon as we set foot inside the door, we would feel the toasty warm temperature contrast with the brutal chill of the outside air. I remember the these days... Mum would call them "Misty Mountain" days... and that's still how I remember them today. Best days of my life.
If we had a day like this on the weekend, usually some of our friends would come around and we'd make indoor cubby houses, constructed by upside down couches. We'd even put the tiny TV in there and watch cartoons. Mum would cut us up celery and feed it to us with our favourite french onion dip. If I close my eyes, I can still picture it as if it had happened yesterday. Sometimes though, when we were feeling really adventurous, we'd go walking in the rain. My friends and I would venture into the muddy lanes and tracks that were by then filled with water, gushing rapidly towards us with nowhere else to go. At times there would be so much rain and water that our driveway would flood completely and our lane would form puddles and streams making it virtually impossible to drive down. My friends and I would pick the wet leaves and flowers off the plants and trees... hoping to pick enough for our various arts and crafts pojects we had constantly in the works. When we'd come inside, sometimes mum would have made her vegie soup... hearty and hot... just the way it should be! We'd dip buttered bread cut into two triangles in it and giggle while we drew and made plans for our crafty inventions.
As we got older though, which was bound to happen... these days began to represent different things.
An old friend and I used to cuddle in this weather and not come out of my room for days at a time. I'm pretty sure I used to devour baked potato during this time in my life. Topped with plenty of salt and sour cream. I can't even remember the last time I had sour cream! He loved me anyway though... despite my weird fetish for sour cream! There were a lot of rainy days I remember him being with me... these days were priceless.
Then there was a boy... who I used to msg endlessly when it rained. Back and forth, back and forth into the early hours of the morning. We'd talk about the sound of the rain on the roof, and I think all we ever wanted to do was dance under its soothing droplets until we were soaked all the way through. I used to tell him to kiss the rain... lyrics from a song that I thought summed us up nicely. It went something like "kiss the rain whenever you need me, kiss the rain whenever I'm gone too long, if your lips feel hungry and thirsty, kiss the rain and wait for the dawn. Keep in mind, we're under the same sky and the night is as empty for me as for you, if you feel you can't wait til morning, kiss the rain"... and whenever it rains, it's hard for me not to think of him and kissing the rain in our memory.
Then I had a boyfriend who came to represent to me what this weather means. Even though he was a sunshine boy all the way and to be honest, I think I spent more time at the beach during the time him and I dated than I had my entire life. We were definitely beach kids together... rocking our beach/street branded clothing. Trekking to Manly Beach, the old train-and-ferry style way in an attempt to show off our dedication to the sun and our love for all things beach. It's funny though because the rainy days somehow ended us being what made us. There was no excuse to get out of bed when it rained. No point and everyone knew it. So no one questioned it. If we were up to it though, we'd venture out come night time for a dinner and movie combo C/O the good old Regent Twin Cinemas... ooooh those were the days. Raining on the tin roof is definitely a sound I remember from that time in my life.
I guess rain on a roof somehow can always easily be associated with love and bed and all things couple-related. Aswell as with hot chocolates; where melty marshmellows are bathing in a sea of milky goodness.
The rain makes me think of a time when there was a flood. We wanted it to flood. We loved the rain and the dance it formed across the sky. The pellets heavy on the front screen of the car, as we drove through feilds of heavy green mush and puddles of deep water. These few days in the flood were everything I loved about us. The simplicity and perfection of a look and a touch. The perfection of the rain and all it represented. A lifetime of nights and days spent in bed beneath warm sheets, skin on skin and bodies held close. When I hear a rain like tonight it reminds me of those times.... as perfect and as clear as they were and should have been, always held close and dear in my heart. Always the rainy story of us.
I've lived overseas in the rain, I've lived here at home in the rain and where ever I go, alone or not, these moments in time are by far my favourite. I hold on to the images and memories of all the times the rain and I have shared, and I smile. When I think back over the buckets of rain I could have captured during the time I have lived... the misty mountain backdrop is always there, regardless of the memory... and my love for the rain and the times spent in its company is endless.....

Persuasion

You are incredibly persuasive
When you want to be
Which just so happens
To be pretty much all the time
With your eyes
You know how to command a room
As if it were a little secret
You'd kept with you and yourself
Secretly plotted away
Quietly planning your every move
Next port of call
Docking station unveiled
A commander ready to instruct
Be obeyed by your following team
Tall, in control and empty
Of all your own fears
Everybody knows
You're incapable to feel
And release the possibilities
Of a lifetime of tears
Better to live life like this
Be made never to open up
Form a comforting drama
A play of your very own
Written and already know
The lines; the essence of yourself
You've acted them out aloud
A thousand times before
In times gone by and through
On a stage before them all
Reciting the words in mass
And now I see why it is so simple
To give into a person like you
When you parade yourself to those
Who do not know
What it means to be true
Create your safe haven
Invite them all to go
Sit with them awhile
Warp them to think the way you do
Though The question I still hold
In the palm of my tiny hand
Is if your nest is quite as safe
As safe as you'd intended;
And planned?

All this nothing

I do not care
Nor do I have any interest
I can not retain a single sound
The becoming of too many words
Forming useless sentences
Unable to be transformed
Into any real use of my own
Or knowledge worthwhile
Locking into this head
Imagine what it is to be trapped
In the cage we call our mind
The bars on such cells
Seem to be standing far too wide
Enabling me and these god awful words
To pass right through its metal frame
To glide and break out;
Learn to roam free
Into the minds of those
Desperate with hunger for it's sense
Thirsty for the knowledge it represents
Their desire exceeding
All that of a natural form
Leaving them full
And fat with such a grasp
Wisdom creating the illusion
Of a brain left healthy and wise
A healthy head full of nothing
This nothing; nothing but lies

The world in its glory

And when the world
Has come to its end
When it has done all
It was intended to do
We can sit back
And take some time
To recall it all;
All we've been through
Write about it
For all the days to come
In all its glory
And what is still yet to be

Tired Eyes

Tired eyes
Oh sleepy one
Come to bed
Rest your tired head
Lay yourself
Up here on my chest
Cuddle in
Nice and tight
Stroke my hair
I'll hold you close
And stare into your eyes
Until both eyes fall shut

Shadows Fall

The shadows fall
Between you and I
Creating a rift
Still on the ground
Heavy and black

What I Think...

I think you fell in love with me and I think it was unexpected
I think I fell in love with you and that was unexpected too
I think you realised that perhaps I was the girl for you
I think it was nice until it went wrong
I think that I hurt you and you can blame me for that
I think you loved spending all your time with me
I think we were head over heels in love
I think I thought I would never be enough
I think that's why I mucked it all up
I think our eyes and bodies said it all
I think more than our words ever could
I think I was weak
I think you were strong
I think I tried to tell you how much I adored you
I think my words fell on deaf ears though
I think you could have been happy waking up to me everyday
I think the damage had been done and too late to take back
I think you got scared that things would never change for us
I think that made me mad
I think when I got mad, it made you even madder
I think you're still angry with me
I think maybe I'm angry with myself
I think I blame myself
I think if I had known myself better we wouldn't be where we are now
I think I am a lover and always have been
I think I live purely to love
I think to love can cause pain
I think a deep love is also rare to find
I think it's something that shouldn't be so easily discarded
I think that I love you
I think that you love me too
I think I can't convince you now though and
I think you'll say I'm wrong
I think you think I'm always wrong
I think love isn't meant to be easy
I think it can be incredible if you let it
I think that I still love you
Though, I think that you know that too.