Forever & Evers

It's like that, isn't it?

When we're far away, we think about what we're missing out on. Not so much the parties and booze. The littler things, like sitting in the playground.

That old essay, on yellowing paper, written in the hand of fifteen year old me, it's tucked away somewhere. I don't have a boyfriend anymore, or want two dogs, two cats and five children.

I really don't want a boyfriend or five children. Or dogs. And I think we're quite happy with just one cat. But I've still got you guys. Even though we're sort of all over the place, checking out the world, and having to decide on what to eat based on price.

I like that we've still got each other.

And I want what I wrote about then, and what happens/is happening now.

I think we'll spend the rest of our lives like that-

always clambering onto the next plane back to each other.

The morning will come

"I thought you said you can't spend the whole night cuddled up, that you get claustro. You lie."

"And I thought you said you don't cuddle, ever."

You're the perfectest, most beautiful thing in the world to wake up to on a Sunday morning.

I lie.

To wake up to, period.

For always.

I want to fly over to you right now.
Drop everything, cancel shows and classes and just fly over to you right now, so that I can wrap you up and tell you it's going to be okay. You're going to be okay.

I hate that I can't. It's immensely frustrating.
And I'm sorry, and it might not seem like very much because of the whole ocean thing that's hanging out between us but-
I'm around for you. And you're going to be okay.

Expiration Dates

"Because you see," I say, crossing my legs under the breakfast table, "every relationship has an expiration date. Not like, in this sad way, just. It does."
It was the first time we were hanging out. Somehow we'd gotten to talking about my best friend being my sperm donor and my views on non-marriage and all the rest of it.

And then here we are, now.
We've talked about my moving. About staying and going. Sort of about where we want to be. But there are also things within that that I'm afraid to ask about. Or I don't know how.

I decided to stay five more years. Because I could, because it made sense to, because, honestly, you're here. And I'd like to be where you are.
But I'll be honest with you, I don't think I could live here for the rest of my life. I don't know how.

You can though. And that's not wrong.

Tonight, tonight you asked me if my five-years was meant for this place, or for us.
And I told you, honestly, that it was for this place.
And it's nice, sure it is- that I haven't given us a 5 year limit or anything.
But I don't know how to answer all the other questions creeping up on me now.

One of those days I find myself wishing

On a list of things Amie's daughter can do, I found

5. Apologize and ask what she can do to make it better

That caught me a bit. Well I'm sure it's hardly special or unique but-

She does that too.

And I found myself thinking, that if our daughter did that,

I'd know exactly where she got it from.

Tuesday Afternoons

It's the middle of the day.

The streets are empty and the neighbour's sprinklers are on. Eight doors down the 11 year old Golden Retriever barks incessantly at a squirrel sitting on his wall.

She's standing in the driveway, fiddling with her car keys. Inside, she hears the refrigerator door being opened and shut, and the sound of a wooden step stool being dragged painfully across the kitchen floor. Her blackberry gives a short, sharp ring and she looks down at the calendar reminder.

"Tomorrow: Office- Meeting. 3-5pm." It says.

She dismisses the alert and glances at the keys in her hand.

Turning, she picks up the small pink backpack from the doorstep. She pushes open the front door and leaves the backpack just inside.

"C'mon kitten," she yells, "finish your juice. Car ride."

And they both clamber in and buckle up, even though they'd just gotten home ten minutes ago.

It's quiet, when the car pulls into the graveled carpark.

"Mommy," the little girl says, passing her the ringing cellphone. She takes the phone, switches it off, and chucks it into the backseat.

"How bout just you and me today hon?"

It's just about four now. She's got the little one in her arms as they walk through the place, right to the other end. It's a large space with a white fence. The sand inside is soft and has tiny bits of colour mixed into it. There are a few lessons going on within the space.

They stand on the outside, their eyes scanning.

"There!" The little one yells, before clapping both her tiny hands over her mouth, giggling.

"Whoops, no yelling." She whispers loudly. She points to the far corner where a young boy is precariously balanced on a dun pony, taking instructions from someone in a cap and shades.

"I win." "This time, anyway." She replies, kissing the little girl's forehead.

"I picked out that cap for her you know, " she says, looking up, her arms around the other's neck.

"Did you?"

"Yep, it says 'Love all' on the back, you know, where the strap is."

And they stand there, in comfortable silence, watching the one in the cap and shades,

who's gotten both their hearts.

Who are you?!

That was uncalled for.

What? Just, what?! Hold up, wait, wait. WHAT?!
It was rude, it was unbelievable.
If you're asking me if I'm upset, yes I am. For some reason, it gets me. A lot, okay?

Because if it were anyone of my best friends, that wouldn't have happened. It wouldn't.If it were any single one of them, male or female. Somehow I know it. And here's the thing, I. Don't. Understand.
And I hated that I had to feel that, be that upset, and almost justify my reasons. When I would have done it for anyone.

When did you get like this?
When did you because so impossibly, utterly, unbelievably self-absorbed?!
GOD. I don't fucking know you. I don't.

All you do is talk about yourself. All.the.time.
You throw tempers, when it even appears like we might not want to listen to you. Well here's news, MAYBE WE DON'T.
Because after a while, it gets to the point of INDULGENCE. That's what it's called- Indulgent.

But you refuse to read people, refuse to pause for a fucking second to think that maybe, just maybe, other people at the dinner table have a life too. Have work, have school, have things that they've come from. And all they want to do is sit at this table and talk about other things rather than hear you go on about YOU.

I can't believe the type of person you've become.
I don't understand you, I don't know you.
And honest to fucking God, I don't always like being around you very much.

I'm so, so, SO FUCKING claustrophobic.
I cannot breathe.

Yes, you're great. Yes, we can talk and all sometimes.
But it's so much easier when I don't have to deal with this so much.

Because frankly, I'm fucking tired.

Conversation

"How do people do that?"
"Do what?"
"Wear their hearts on their sleeves"
"You mean, love?"
"No, I mean. Wear their hearts on their sleeves. Fall in, fall out, and have the audacity to call it love."
"How do you know it's not love?"
"How do they know it is? And if you're not sure, don't call it something it might damn well not be."

Ms Robinson, what did you do after your diagnosis?

That's funny. haha.

Like, "hahahaha"-type of funny.

You've got a problem, my dear.

Well there's you, for starters. And we tried and then that was the problem.

And you were trying to get out.

It wasn't okay to stop trying, who the fuck said it'd be?

Suck it up and do something. Or something's going to be done, and then you might just find yourself in messes you can't quite get out of.

Grey's: Season 1, episode 9.

“In 1900, the average life span for a U.S. citizen was 47,” Mr. Quirk said. “Now we’re living so much longer, ‘until death do us part’ is twice as challenging.”

My family finally moved in on Sunday.
So, July 11th 2011, Monday morning, my mother wakes up. She smiles at me while I'm fixing up my cereal and yoghurt.
"There's something liberating about waking up in your own house- On your old wedding anniversary."
"Wow. Gawd, that's bizarre!"
"It's like," she continues, smiling, "I get my freedom back."

They would've been married 24 years now.
They've been split up for twelve, divorced for nine.
But they're happy. And so am I.

Image courtesy of LebianDad's-

one of my favourite bloggers for a few years now (Yes, even before Rebecca Woolf)

So, June 24th it was. And news has it that, after the initial, "OMG. YAY! EQUALITY OF MARRIAGE!" people have looked at each other and just gone, "Oh crap."

Because suddenly, everyone's asking, "So when's the big day?" or "Can I be bridesmaid?"

No prize for guessing where this blogpost is going.

I've spent my morning reading. And apparently, lots of marriages these days are open. In their vows, they leave out "fidelity" and "monogamy". No, I don't quite understand that. But all the same, I think people are entitled to do whatever it is they want to do.

I guess, what I'm just wondering is, in this day and age with grey areas and lines drawn in sand, what's the difference between Being In A Relationship and Just Seeing Each Other?

What sets a couple who's living together apart from one that's married? Filing taxes together, medical insurance, is that it?

I don't believe in letting society define things for us either, but I'm just trying to see the logic and sense behind some people and their choices. Then again, maybe it'll just be one of those things that I just don't get.

This whole Open Marriage concept, according to word on the street, is pretty common in gay marriages and in fact, started off in a lot of gay marriages. Although plenty of heterosexual marriages are like that too. And I'm just sorta wondering if maybe, it's just yet another reason for people to go "tut tut" at.

Suddenly, everything about Marriage seems warped and changed and tailored to fit.

I always thought the essence of it was well, sappy as it sounds, love and commitment. Suddenly there are pre-nups and open marriages and/or two gay people getting themselves into a heterosexual marriage so that they can please families and just. wow.

When did it get like that?

When did Marriage involve more than just two people and what they had?

Because when you think about it, you've got the lawyers and the family members and counsellors and the pastors and priests and

that's a whole lot of people, don't you think?

I'm not saying that engaged couples shouldn't talk to, um, whoever it is people think they should talk to. I think it's responsible, in fact. But all of it just seems so mindblowingly messy.

I don't know what makes most people get married these days, or want to. I don't know what makes someone say Yes when the question's been popped.

On my coffee-sipping, people-watching days, I wonder about things like that.

If that man in the elevator, at the urging of his friend, is really going to keep his fiancee in the dark about staying out late for drinks.

If the girl at Fish and Co. said Yes when her boyfriend proposed in front of the entire restaurant because, she didn't want to embarrass him.

If that guy at the Jewelers' picked out that 33-karat diamond ring because his girlfriend gave him a 5-year deadline.

If the middle-aged woman on the train, with a ring on her finger, is only counting down the days til her children are old enough and working so that she can finally file for divorce. Not because she's seeing someone else, but because all she wants to do, is breathe.

I don't want to be bound by laws and writing and pre-written vows that I can find on Google. I don't want to be talked in or out of something either, or take "precautions" because "it'll keep you safe."

Because I've always hated feeling like I'm trying too hard. The concept of trying annoys me- makes me feel like it can just as easily fail. And most things do.

Maybe some get married because they realize they could wake up to this same person for the rest of my life. Or maybe it happens because she's the first person who peels his prawns. Or maybe it's because he's really good with children.

Or maybe it's a lot simpler-

Maybe it's how she distracts me while she cleans up my cuts. Or leaves notes on my fresh clothes for me to find.

Whatever it is, when one finally decides that something's worth trying, I don't see why we shouldn't try for all we're worth,

and then some more.

Lazy Sundays

Gawd I love lazy Sundays-

We ended off our Saturday night date by going shopping. And sure, it was shopping at Raffles City's Marketplace, as opposed to NTUC extra, but still. I'm not complaining. Erika got to pick the cereal and the yoghurt and (Bird you're gonna love this) the box of granola. Which I'd never have picked up on my own but which isn't half bad! Paid for our 40ish-dollar groceries and 9:07pm we find ourselves in a cab heading for home.

We got home, put away our goodies, showered and tucked ourselves in. Time check? Yep, you got it. Quarter past ten.

No actually, you ought to know that we don't always pass on church. But we opted for a lazy Sunday this time.
The Little Creature came by to join us for breakfast, bringing Erika strawberries for her strawberry mush to go with my maple pancakes. And yes, we introduced Janice to the joy and wonder of cereal and yoghurt.

So,
Cereal-yoghurt + Maple Pancakes with strawb-mush and granola + Fresh Vanilla Coffee...
What's not to love about lazy Sundays?
Especially when you get to crawl back into bed after for a nap(:

<3

If our lives were a collection of notes and post-its

"Hello, I have clean laundry inside me. Please, could you hang them out to dry? They make my insides feel funny.
Love, the washing machine"

"Cat's been fed. Make sure you feed yourself too?"

"I hope you had fun today. I certainly did!
((: "

"Hey babe, finished the juice, sorry. I'll pick some up on the way home though."

"Things we're missing:
Milk
Clean laundry
Loo rolls
Jafa cakes
Evenings in playgrounds with Sandwiches.
What's your take on Friday night?
Love, me"

"Mommy called and asked if we'll be free for dinner and movie next week. You up for it?"

"I left breakfast for you in the fridge."

"Morning sweetheart, I hope you managed to sleep in. Come home for dinner?"

"So, just in case you were wondering, I love you.
Yours."

So I dare you to let me be your,

Your one and only.

Have I mentioned how I love my life?

No pressure to wake up, let's start with that. And I always get to find a Good Morning text waiting for me on my cell.
My duvet is nice and comfy and I can lose myself in it.
Then I roll out and stick my feeties into nice warm brown fluffy slippers.

I think breakfasts play a huge part in making one's day-
Yesterday and today, it's been cornflakes with strawberry yoghurt and a dash of honey. A concoction that has me smiling just at the thought of it.
The first time I saw it, the scene looked like this:
We've woken up at 7am at Sam and Michelle's. Jacquin's watching telly and I'm on the adjacent couch, still in my jammies.
Erika comes over with her bowl of breakfast and something unrecognizable. Like, it looks like cornflakes but it sure as hell isn't milk in there.
"Try!" She says. And I'm totally like, "whaaat, naw it's okay." Eventually I do have a mouthful and it's a bit odd the first time round but it's not so bad.
So she goes off to make me my own bowl and gasp! Puts honey in it for me(((:
Yes I know, I am spoilt rotten.

So this breakfast has followed me back to the Spore. And I settle myself in front of Maxine, with a glass bowl of that and watch (yes, C, watching something?!)
An episode of Greys'.
And that makes me super happy too!

I think mornings are the loveliest part of a day. And they can make or break it. So they need to be set up nicely.
If mornings are always spent rushing around, the rest of the day always feels like that. Plus, for some reason, an early morning takes more of a toll than a late night. (Then again, late means working til 9pm, not sleeping at 3am after partying)

So yes, that's been my life of recent. And it's been awfully nice and productive.

This working a couple of hours a day, gotta love it. And doing what I love no less. Yum!

So it's half past ten in the morning. I've got a couple of hours before I've to leave. Think I'll pop into Fairprice and pick me up a nice coffee along the way. I've got tomorrow morning to pack and clean anyways.

Mm(:

While it lasted

I've found myself missing some place new.
Like I said, not a huge fan of missing places/people/things.
):

Laundry

So I came pack to mom's/the family's ( I always catch myself saying my parents' place. It's weird) to do laundry and pick up what I thought was my last load of clothes. No such luck. It won't fit into the tiny suitcase.

Anyway, while waiting for the machine to sing its song, I found a couple of things I needed to handwash anyway. By a couple I mean two pieces cos it's a pair of lace, pull-up stockings. And they look very nice. I mean. I thought that even when I bought it so.
It snagged on the hanger though. I fucking hate when that happens. Goddamit. These thirty dollar pieces of sheer delicates and they snag and have these lines and shit on them.

So anyway, I'm hanging these lacey black things up, and I'm just thinking- when in the world am I going to wear them again?
They're the type that's worn to be discovered. They're not just black stockings. The lace pull up stops mid-thigh and if you've got garters to keep them up that'd be added hotness.
Like I said, they're worn to be discovered. Not just to feel nice in and go out, underneath jeans or a skirt and then come home alone to.
Not that my life is really that sad but I catch myself thinking,
When will I find an occasion to wear these again? Already, I look at my hooker heels and try to find ways of wearing them without looking like a stripper.

And that, my dears, is how I realize that I am slowly, but surely, growing old.

And while we're on that, it gets a bit tiring doing that anyway. Dressing up. Or dressing up to dress down.
I've rather been missing our curling up on couches, snuggled under some pashmina-type throws with my feet tucked under her, or my head in her lap while a movie plays on telly. (I'm always the one that needs the volume up. Always. Gawd. It's my family's fault, I swear.)
So yes, I'd much rather have time for that than trying to keep my boobs from spilling out of my bustier or trying to pair hooker heels with jeans so I look just a tad less skanky.

I want to read. Do laundry. Meet mommy up for breakfast (like this morning). Sip my morning coffee and stare out my window. Vacuum. Call her at lunch to ask what she feels like for dinner. Pretend that I'm a master chef, when I'm actually just good at googling. (Oh google, my friend)
Crawl into bed at ten, but stay up til two just, talking and talking and talking.

Unpacking

Sometimes, I think I've delayed packing my last lot of clothes into that tiny grey suitcase in my room because, that would mean taking out stuff that's still in it.
And it's the last bit of Perth still tucked away into the corners of that suitcase that I want to keep.

I don't like this-
It's yet another place to like, miss, look at and smile. And I'm getting too old for wishes.

Can you tell?

That I want to make it better.

on the edge of ice-cold waters

Can't say I know much about what's been going on.

I don't get it.

My days start off comfortable and content, and then on occasion, I'm hit by some less-than-nice feeling. And unlocking the door to my dark, empty apartment doesn't help much.

Generally speaking, it's been productive. All in all, things have been nice. I find that I can breathe. And I like that.

But there's been something bubbling beneath the surface- and we haven't talked about it.

I don't know what it is, or how to start it, or what might set it off. But I've been looking for triggers to pull because more often than not, it feels like we're running in circles.

I've found myself happy, this weekend. But I've also found myself sad. And I can't seem to explain the crying messes that I become.

Maybe I've been looking for afternoons in the park, or evenings in playgrounds. Maybe I've been waiting for things to quieten down so that I can talk.

Maybe I've always done that and that's just going about it all wrong.

You've got a point-

we do always seem to end up here. and no, I don't like it anymore than you do, believe me.

You're not the only one, you know.

I'm tired too.

Fourteen years old

Here's some things I learnt-
Some people can't fall asleep with company. But it's pretty something when they find someone they can fall asleep with.

That goes for a lot of things, really. Cuddling, running, writing, crying.

A lot of times, I find that I'm running from myself.

It's chilly, when you step out into the night air and pull a front door shut behind you, and head for home.

People are capable of saying very, very, very, pretty things.
None of which they mean.

It's been years, and dial tones still make me sad.
------------------
I've never been so stuck with words in my life. Never thought, "So then, why don't I just talk about it?" And then replied myself with, "I don't know how."

In terms of mood, feels like I've been swinging back and forth a whole lot. I don't understand it.

I'm bordering on tears.

I don't know where I am or what this is.
---------------------

Dear Whoever You Are,
Find me and call me your beloved.
Find me.
Find me.

---------------
I've been catching myself spinning.
And tearing.
And not knowing what in fuck's name's happening.
Nothing new there though

Take it all

Go on and take it all,
Take it all with you
Don't look back, at this crumbling fool.

At your beck and call

and so,

when you want me, if there comes something for me to do, when I become whatever it is you might need,

When you find use for me again,

let me know.

Curled up under a blanket, heavy with tomorrow's promises

Here's what I miss-
No matter how far away from you I might have felt during the day, we'd come back home together and manage to fix it before falling asleep.

I might've been more tired, and gone to bed first. You might have felt like watching telly after dinner.

And I'd crawl into bed first, tuck myself in, and leave one of the bedside lamps on for you for when you came to bed. You'd come in, just a bit after me, with your glass of water which you'd leave on the make-do table on my side. Turn out your light, and climb into bed.
Then you'd reach for me, curl yourself against me, nuzzle my ear and say goodnight. And I'd find myself leaning into you, and mumbling goodnight.

Somehow or other, from that, we'd always manage to end up talking. It might start off a tiny bit groggily at first, but we'd talk. And we'd be honest. And we'd find that we're okay.
And we'd fall asleep tangled up in each other, content and warm.

I miss that.
I miss that because it could have been the most fantastically wonderful day, or it could've been rather hectic, or it could've been tiring, or it could've been nice and comfy- but whatever it was, however our days turned out, at the end of all of it, we'd come through the front door together, take off our jackets and boots, say hi to the cat, find time for ourselves, find time for family, and find each other again.
And I liked that. I like that.

Feels like I'm home, with you. And I like that feeling.
And I like that we'd fall asleep to the thought of tomorrow. And I loved waking up to you pulling me closer, hearing the wind outside and catching the sun rise.
I always have loved waking up to you.

Just like I've loved coming home to you, or coming home with you.
Just like I've loved doing the simplest things- curling up on the couch and watching movies, planning our days, picking out outfits.
Just like I've loved having coffee in quiet streets, or sitting and watching the rain.

Just like I've loved knowing-
that I'm home, with you.

The paper and pencils have been packed.

In order of...

well, in some kind of order-

TO DO:

1) Clear out my table

2) Clear out my drawers

3) Make some kind of space so that moving these things out will not look like an obstacle course at 3pm.

Time Frame: Now (11.30-ish am to 1pm. Quite do-able, me thinks)

4) Finish up and sort out TTRP application (THIS IS IMPORTANT. IT IS DUE TOMORROW CHARIS, FOR CHRISSAKES)

Time Frame: 1pm-2.30pm OR Late At Night (need to make that less vague)

5) Make sure I'm all set to go by 3pm.

___________________________________

Tomorrow,

1) Submit TTRP Application

2) Pop by spotlight perhaps. Or Ikea. Get myself new sheets.

3) Set up new room.

On a side note, I should probably get off my ass and get myself moved in on that side.

Maybe I'll do that by Wednesday. Actually I can do that by today, save for the bedsheets. So maybe tomorrow.

We'll see how we go.

Now come Adele, make me happy.

Here's the problem-

I don't know what's wrong anymore.

I don't.

I'm the last person I'd want to sit beside on a crowded train right now.

Maybe I'lll just keep going and hope that things fix itself.

Set fire to the rain

Okay, okay. I'm awake, I am.

Opting to eat my breakfast on the side of the road, facing the office, as opposed to sitting inside the Hong Kong Cafe was a good call.
I've ended up watching the sunrise over breakfast. And that's always quite nice.

There's something wrong, I believe, when you're driven to a point where picking the wrong set of keys out of your handbag makes you want to cry. And not because you're in a rush or anything either.

I know I'm being a baby about things, and I sorta wish I hadn't brought it up last night. Isolated and self contained, none of what's going on for me is too overwhelming, really. And my sure, the things I have on, they don't take up entire days. But if you have three 2 hour slots filled in your day. That's six hours gone- and we haven't even begun on travel time yet.
And sure I can pack and move in two hour slots, but while I'm doing that, I'm also planning how to transit into my next two hour slot with something else scheduled.

I'm tired.
And so, I said so.
And no, none of what's going on is faaantastically important or SO big that I can't deal with it. But all the same, I'm tired.
I'm tired because, when I sit down, biting my lip, figuring out what to pack next and how- I feel bad.
When I stop for food, I feel bad.
When I stop packing to go out for rehearsals or just, work, I feel bad.
When I'm packing, less so, but I think of what else I ought to be doing too- like filling out applications, doing laundry. Basically, I take breaks by doing other things on my to do list.

So yes, I know what needs to be done.
And yes, I'm taking active steps and doing things.
And yes, maybe it's not quite as bad as I make it out to be.
And yes, I'm being a baby about all of this.

It's just that, well, I suppose it'd be nice to wake up and go out and not want desperately to be hit by a car so that I can be bedridden and forced to stop. AND THEN feel bad for even thinking that because all I'm thinking is, "but then who's going to pack and do all those things I'm supposed to be doing?"

Like I said, I'm not troubled and it's not a big deal. But all I want to do is curl up under my bed for a bit and cry.

--------------------
Verity, look what you've done now!

--------------------
Find me

I can't keep up with your turning tables

It's June 24th.

On a Friday.

I've officially been a Freelancer (again) for my second Friday now.

It's not actually work that's stressing me out really, it's everything put together.

It's June 24th, on a Friday.

(Randomly, I was wondering why the 24th seemed to ring some kind of bell and I remembered that it's an old anniversary date. Well, not June. Just, 24ths. Back when anniversaries weren't enough and there were Monthsaries as well. Gawd.)

It's June 24th, on a Friday.

It's the first day this week, the first day since I've gotten back from Perth that I don't have to be out and about. The first day I can spend packing. And I have been. Except, it doesn't quite seem to be doing much.

Like, seriously, where the FUCK does all this crap come from?

We want to move out by month end-

Not entirely impossible, I'd say. But if my rate's anything to go by. Or well, I don't know.

Over the last four, five years, this is the third time I'm moving.

You'd think I'd have gotten used to packing lifetimes into boxes. Hah.

Well, I'm less sentimental now. I've been callously chucking things, ripping them up (it's more satisfying) and brutally hauling out things to give away. I can't be fucked anymore, quite honestly speaking. We probably wouldn't miss half the things if they accidentally got burnt up.

The rate I'm going, I'd say I stand a decent chance at moving out by Sunday.

But there's all the family things too. I don't know how to work this out best, frankly speaking.

With this lack of an outside pressure (which is good but also has its down sides), it doesn't seem likely that there'll be ONE BIG MOVING DAY where people come in and clear out our shit and like it or not, TA DAH-

We're tripping over dustbunnies and half-taped boxes in our new living room.

It's not supposed to be so difficult. And this move is supposed to be nicer, isn't it?

Because it's our place and all and yadayada.

So, a thought-

Maybe If I manage to get my shit together, I can move over first and then come back to clear and help. Because that'll = space = time = extra hands = more incentive for family to join me = less hover-about-type of pressure.

Right? Well I don't know. Just a thought.

So. It's June 24th, on a Friday.

The proposed deadline is Month end, June 30th. That's a Thursday.

Tomorrow, June 25th: I have to be up and around doing something or other for work.

Sunday, June 26th: I'm supposed to have a contractor in to lay down my plinth.

Monday, June 27th: My application for TTRP is due. Oh my God. I need to sort that out.

Tuesday, June 28th: Performance at SDC

Wednesday, June 29th: Surely, surely I've got something on because there is never any peace for the wicked.

Thursday, June 30th: Performance at SDC. Oh wait, is that the deadline for moving?

Friday, July 1st: Audition

Saturday, July 2nd: First Saturday of Term 3 for the children.

There'll likely be a meeting next week then, so that we know for sure what's happening.

So go on, go. Tell me what to do. Tell me, how I might possibly, possibly scrounge together a few minutes to make SOMETHING work.

Fucking hell I need a smoke. Okay, no. That might just be the coffee telling me that.

And then, and then the term will start.

And every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon's not mine. And possibly every Wednesday and Friday afternoon too.

And there won't be anymore Saturday mornings.

If I wanted these six months to take a break,

then why doesn't it feel like I am?

Somewhere on the outside, waiting

Keys on the floor, she could barely fit them into the lock.

Quite beside herself with giggles, she walks herself to the kitchen. "In a straight line!" She exclaims, pleased. No one's around to tell her that it isn't as straight as she thinks it is, so really, that's okay.

Pours herself a glass of milk first, then a separate glass of water, before leaning into the sink to drink from the tap.

She's been so sad, that now she's happy.

Except, she's so happy, that she's really quite sad.

Presses her warm, flushed cheek against the cool marble tiles. "Just for a while," she whispers, to the nobody that's around her, "just for a while."

And she lies still, until the spinning room slows down, until her head stops buzzing, until her breathing evens.

Until, she can picture herself in your arms again.

This is how the story goes-

Baby koala(:

for a heart worth a-breaking

Today seemed a pretty productive day! It's unbelievable how happy my Uke makes me(:
I was going at it as mommy drove me to and from the audition at the Esplanade. That one didn't go brilliantly I don't think.
I don't know- I never think I make fantastic impressions. For someone who's mostly be in theatre, and for most of her life at that, I'm very small.
That's why I'm also very boring to watch when I sing live, in my opinion that is.

But anyway! I digress!
I took mommy to Max Brenners. Mmm(:
And then I assaulted her with my Uke-plucking all the way home. Y'know as she drove/ got stuck in traffic/ shook fists and flipped people off. Okay naw, it wasn't really that bad. The drive back I mean. I'm not sure about the uke-playing, but I was happy(:

I found out that my Plinth guy is actually a Plinth woman! So that's funny.
I'm really really REALLY happy that I'm getting a Plinth laid down in my loo. And that I got that sorted out myself too(: so they'll come in on Saturday and take all day. Need to sort out the schedule with the family, come to think of it.

So anyway, I'm off for dinner now.
And noodoos are on the menu. I likey.


On my way home(:

Shit

Okay. I know what's happening here!

My body clock is screwed up. Like, very very VERY screwed up.

Not even in a tangible, fixable I-sleep-at-3am-and-wake-at-1pm-kinda way.

Nope.

It's half past two and I'm going to bed even though I'm bloody knackered and wanted to sleep since I said goodnight on the phone just now at, was it 11pm then?

Then I get up at 10am.

Well, today I did.

But for the last week we've been dozey by 7pm, well at least I have, then crawled into bed at half past ten or so(and believe me we were knackered by then). We'd fall asleep somewhere between half past one and half past four, because we'd chat and catch up with each other at the end of the day which is always nice.

And then My alarm will go off at 6am so that I can roll out of bed latest by 7am, because I take for-frikkin-ever to get ready while Erika takes all of fifteen minutes.

So I'm awake between like 6-7am and then we're fully awake and ready somewhere between 8-9am.

I don't understand that.

I was at 5.30 service with Erika on Sunday, and I was sort of a little bit dozey.

"Perth mode", she called it, tapping her watch that showed three minutes past six, "It'd be dark by now."

Granted. But I was sleepy by seven ish or so over there, and I am here too! Kind of. And want to sleep by 9pm.

Except.

Okay. I'm just confusing myself AND DELAYING MY GOING TO SLEEP.

rawr.

Tomorrow looks like it'll be nice.

I've packed most of my shoes and all my trinkets. I just need to clear the shelf completely, and the black table.

Then I will go claim my much needed alone time.

And then, dinner's with AJ and Steph tomorrow. And we haven't seen them since they've moved out, so that'll be nice.

Oh, and I'm lining up potential babysitters for us.

I love teaching teenagers((:

The way she says Yes

"So I'm in love with you," she says. And I stop short, mid-chorus, and smile.

I'm in love with her too.

with your boots by the door

and my coat on the rack

Turning Tables

Dear Diary,

I am very tired today.

Not physically, not physically at all. Mostly annoyed at all the things I should/can be doing. And fighting with the thought of, "don't I deserve some rest?"

Because, quite frankly, I almost believe I do.

I have a long to-do list, and it's only my first week back as a Freelancer.

Y'know, taking my life, schedule and Ical into my own hands? Except, I'm not. Not really.

To a certain point, I feel dangerously unmotivated. At the same time I figure, surely it's okay to sit still and breathe for a second or two.

Except I'm not. I'm not actively resting, I'm doing it accidentally and so it frustrates me even more.

I wrote a song last night. Well, this morning, and I'm pretty pleased with it. I can't wait to try it out on my Ukulele and see how it sounds.

But I don't feel particularly productive. Even though I wrote it as I was falling asleep.

And I went for an audition today. It was alright, no biggie.

I've gotten rusty from this lack of auditions and exposure and sitting around and writing.

I've got a few of my recording equipment with me, and thinking about it now, I figure, I'll set it up once I've moved. So then, that makes me sorta excited.

But then, it also doesn't. Because.

Well because when it's come to my music I haven't always been very "out there" about it.

I should pack. I can pack, can't I? Maybe then, perhaps, I'd feel more productive. I'd feel like, I'm closer to something even though I don't know what it is.

I've got another audition on Wednesday, and rehearsals on Thursday and stuff on Saturday morning.

I'm sitting in this kip of a room and I'm just, just generally annoyed. I don't know at what, that's the thing. Maybe myself.

And I kind of want to sit and cry.

And I've been eating too much chocolate. So that sort of sucks.

This is me thinking out loud though.

So I figure, I should do what I always do and go back to the question that I throw at myself, and that I'd ask anyone in this place-

What do you want?

What do I want?

I want to go pick up my Ukulele and sit by the river and play. And then I want to sit in a corner and feel happy and content. And then I want to pack. And I want to move in to my new apartment cos I'm actually really excited about it.

And then I want to set up my recording corner with Haze (uh oh, come to think of it, I left haze in the office). And I want to do things with Haze and my Uke. Like take over the world one chord at a time.

And I'm okay with not doing DIC at all this term. In fact, you know what, I think I'll completely pass on DICs this term and instead, just sing and act and do the kiddies' program.

I'll get by on that and tutoring, maybe I'll sit on the sidewalk and sing for change. Maybe I'll write you a song and sell it.

Right now though, I also want to sit in a corner and cry a bit. That and picking up my Uke are the first things on my To Do list.

Except.

And I know this sounds stupid but,

I can't find the time.

And I don't even really know for sure why I'm sad.

It's my first week being a Freelancer again, how can I be sad?

Maybe I'll start with the packing.

Then I can pick my Uke up tomorrow.

And then maybe, just maybe, I'll find my sanity again.

Love,

C

Post holiday blues

It's Monday.

And sure, I'm not at work but there's so many things to do and fuck, I think I'm getting frustrated just at the thought of all of it.

Of course I know that we can't always be on holiday and that there's always life to get back to.

Of course I know, also, that it'll turn out to be pretty damn boring if all we did was be on holiday all the time.

But right now, it's this two-fold thing where

1) I'm missing my hobo-time, because I haven't EVER had like a three month break or any kind of random break where I just sit around for weeks and not know where my next meal's coming from.

And yes, thank you, I am very much looking forward to my next six months, but I also have things lined up for me. Which I suppose I shouldn't be doing for myself. But then, I do anyway and GAWD, I just need to stop for two seconds and catch my breath butguesswhatIcan'tbecauselookslikeI'vegottarushforanauditionthisafternoon. Amongst other things for which my deadline is the end of this month which is only about-

OH LOOK! 10 days away from today.

2) I'm actually missing Perth. Like, the place. Atop the holiday mode and all of that.

It's a few things put together I suppose. How we are and such. And I'm fully aware of how holidaying some place is completely different from living there. But I'm just. I'm not just missing it like, "Oh I really loved Phuket. I could live there with a scooter and sell seashells."

I'm actually missing it.

Maybe working or doing things will be a good thing, then I can just stop thinking about it.

mmmm. I didn't actually get to eat this but I sure as hell wish I did now!

I like being happy like that(:

Perth

So we just got in last night after a week away.

It was too short, too quick, too amazing, too beautiful. Most holidays tend to be though, don't they?

But I guess what I really really like, is that it sorta doesn't really feel final. There doesn't quite seem to be an air of finality.

Not when we were packing (we've left a couple of things behind we realized), not when we were walking along the beach and getting caught in the rain.

Not when we were saying goodbye and not even when we got dropped off at the airport.

We're back now, with shitty complexion (well more me than anything) and itchy noses and pressies to take out and the confusion, pure utter confusion of walking around home in a shirt and wondering why I'm not freezing. But I've missed my family and I've loooved giving them their pressies(:

Can't wait to talk about the trip and post pictures. Although I'll admit, honestly, Facebook makes pictures HEAPS easier. So I might have more there.

There are bits of being home that I don't like.

Like opening my eyes and realizing I'm not being hit by blinding white and a thick duvet and the sound of the wind right outside our window. Like finding that I'm waking up alone. Like realizing that there's a lot, quite a lot of things to be getting back to- in terms of work and things to do and just well, life really.

But.

I'll go pick myself up a Uke, think about gorgeous sunsets and walks on the beach and random patches of grass and wants and promises and dreams and then,

and then, we'll just see how we go.

bring me sunshine, in your smile

Phonecall

1) I'm trying. I really am.

2) Feels like I can't fix it fast enough. Fix me fast enough.

3) Which brings me back to this- how I can't do it right. How maybe I'm not trying hard enough.

Or maybe I don't want this bad enough to want to fix it me, and the problem that I am or have become.

4) It's always easier to stop trying. But I'm trying to quell that nagging thought.

5) It feels like either ways, I'm always trying. I'm always somewhere in between, just trying to get to an end.

6) Dial tones make me sad. They always have.

7) Somehow, i managed to single-handedly ruin tonight.

8) Feels like I'm fighting a losing battle against myself. Except I've fought the exact same fight before, and now we're just, older. All of us are. Including the fight.

9) I've actually been really excited about my trip. But right now, right now I just want to curl up in the corner of a toilet, and cry. Y'know, for a week or so.

10) I'm sorry. That it affects you the way it does. That I don't know what to say or do to make it better. That I need fixing. That you can't do it. That I'm not doing it properly or that I can't seem to do it fast enough. That I just ended up dragging you in.

I'm sorry, I really am.

and these shadows, they catch me by the wrist

In the empty aisles of walmart

I'll be here.

Two steps behind you.

When you let go of my hand,

When you go off for a bit, or stop off to the side, or gravitate towards something of interest-

two steps behind you

Always.

Just in case you want to turn back and reach for my hand again

She always did say,

that she loved like a girl

A question. Or two.

Maybe it's just me, maybe I've gotten it all wrong.

Maybe,

I sorta miss you.

But realizing again, it makes me smile

Sometimes, I forget how in love with you I am.

How annoyingly sappy I find myself, how I'd do anything to make you happy,

How it feels like I could keep doing this with you for ages on.

Sometimes I realize, how easily we could've missed each other. How likely we could've just not been.

How easy it is we fit now, when you pull me to you.

We've been awfully busy of late. I sort of don't want to miss out on saying Goodnight to you before you fall asleep, or See You Later when you head off to work, or I'm Home Now when I crawl into bed ages after you.

And I know I'm sappy, and I'm being such a shmuck but,

I love you. I hope you know.

Because I sorta also don't want to miss out on being enough of a shmuck to tell you, whenever I'm thinking it.

excited like a hamster

for Perth, Perth, PERTH!

And mymy, what a busy schedule we have leading up to our leaving.

Oh woe, woe indeed!

But we'll pull through. It'll be okay.

And then we'll be OFF!

So after my last post, I found myself at Orchard Central picking out sneakers.

They are looooove.

(:

It's been a nice long day. Never mind that I haven't run in three days and I literally think I'm going mad.

It's been a nice long day.

And I will run in the morning.

And sometimes

I think, I can be normal.

Or at least try.

I can get out of this.

Something we haven't done for a while

So Sunday Brunch, or rather, brunch in general has been completely out of the question given our fantastic schedules of recent.
But this lovely, thunderstormy Sunday morning proved to be the loveliest unplanned surprise in a very long while.
(:

After, I even managed a spot of shopping! And I am sooooo happy with my buys! I haven't been this happy with my shopping for a while, I like it. The happiness I mean. Well, and what I bought.
Of course the fact that I had to get something in a Small (which hasn't happened in absolute years) added to this generally happy feeling(:

Sunday crowds don't make very good movie company but- I REALLY LIKED X MEN.
Whoop! And I'm not complaining about my movie date either((:

I am a very happy bunny today.
Miaow.

Oh, Mary Jane.

Maybe I didn't want to be weird, maybe I didn't want people to start noticing (although she wouldn't have, she hasn't been around for so long),

maybe I thought I deserved it, maybe I was tired, maybe I wanted to.

Or maybe, I was looking for an excuse.

To be weak. To give in.

So I did.

There's a whole lot to make up for now.

Yum!

There are so many things for me to be excited about!

1) My new room

Omgomg, it's in my head, the layout, the new furniture, the everything. OMG.

I'm so excited. I likeeee.

I just spent this evening picking out bedframes online. Ah yes, this generation and its technology has done me wonders.

2) PERTH!

AAAAAAAAH. We're leaving in 10 days. Which honestly sounds a whole lot longer than it actually is. Hrmm. The week leading up to Perth just seems jam-packed with stuff. Almost sounds like we're going to be away for a decently long period of time.

Sadly, we're not): We'll be back in a week. BUT STILL. PERTH. YAY.

I can't wait.

3) Sunset Picnic with my Kuo Chuan Babies.

I.have.missed.them.so.frikkin'.much. Wow. And that's the thing, see. I like just hanging out with them in general. Because they're fun and hilarious.

I'm excited.

4) Next week will prove to be a deliriously short week-

Yes I'm working this weekend, but I've got two days off next week to packpackpack. If the youth program happens (which I do hope it does), that'll be quite cool.

But then, come Friday I'll be off and away! Well not literally.

Friday's actually Vic's birthday dinner. We need to sort that out. haha.

5) PERTH! OMGOMG. PERTH((:

Here's something

I want to be with you too.

Sundays

So, when it has to happen, promise you'll come home after work for brunch with the family?

The world needs to shut up-

This noise,
I can hear it behind the songs I'm playing straight into my ears

Anything, anything you'd like

When we grow old, that we won't get too busy to say I Love You

This Off-Day

Things To Do:

1) Sort through the random papers I have so that I can

2) PACK

3) Swim

4) Make Chocolate for Vicky's tonight

Feels like I need to start with the last one so there'll be time. hrmm.

Butbut, sun:/

Maybe in May, JuneSong

and then I was happy, because you do that a lot, make me happy. Very much so actually.

but things have come in waves and bouts. I wanted to tell you, I want to, even now. Except the words get tangled up and I can't say it out proper.

Sometimes I want to talk, but I never know how to do it without sounding self-absorbed.

It might just seem like the same old thing over and over and over again anyway, and why, for fuck's sake, can't I just drop it already? Or at least take my issues some place else.

So then, I started, and then I stopped.

and then I was sad. But then you were there. And you make me happy, and you do that a lot.

When you pull me in, to you, and we're nose to nose, lip to lip, for just a bit, everything else disappears. You make me happy. You made me happy.

But then, for just a bit, I was sad. And I don't like to think that maybe, I ended up making you less happy than you were. When all you do is make me happy.

And now that thought, it makes me sad.

Sunrays and Saturdays

We had an ikea date yesterday afternoon-

I really liked it. Maybe also because the food place wasn't as crowded as it usually is.

We picked out beds and bedframes- I've decided that I can't do a double bed in my room. Dayum. But I'm opting for a Super single instead. On that note, none of the beds/bedframes we looked at yesterday is what will move in with me. dammit.

Picked out shelves, and cosied up on couches that weren't ours, in living rooms that were all tiny and well, cosy.

I don't know how big our couch will be, but I'm leaning towards fabric-type as opposed to leather. Need to find a way to stop Buttons from frikkin' clawing at furniture. I will not be the least bit happy if she starts ripping apart our new couch.

So we basically spent the afternoon walking around, taking down measurements, planning, drawing (albeit terribly) before we came home intending to crash out a bit. That's the thing about working on Saturdays (though I'm not exactly complaining!), the afternoon looks lovely but gawd I'm knackered! But I digress!

Everyone else, save for Delia, pulled out on dinner, so it was just the three of us at 313's Trattoria (Which in my memory was pretty nice!), with a funky smelling waiter and an odd looking pizza. That was a shame. I might wait for a bit before going back to that place.

Got Boost Juice, made it for the 10 o'clock movie, with Erika's work friends and got ourselves home.

All in all, it was a pretty nice evening out.

Missed home-cooked dinner with my family though, and I felt awful. Cos I've missed dinner with them, and especially home-cooked ones. But I've got today and tomorrow.

It's looking like an incredibly busy week this week-

Vicky's leaving for a good month and a half this week (OMGAHHH), Erika's birthday, work...

There're dinners to do and SDC rehearsals to have. Yep. We're scheduled for rehearsals, despite not actually having a script yet.

But hey,

that's how we roll.

___________________________________

oh, the way you make me feel

Into Dust

"Why are you doing this?" She asks, her eyes holding mine.

"Because-"

"When do you want to stop? When do you want, to want to stop?"

I'm irritated at her, frustrated. We've gone through this over and over and over again, why the fuck doesn't she get it? And then I realize the problem- she does.

She does get it, and then she takes it and throws it back at me, forcing me to re-explain myself. And I hate her for it.

"Why are you turning on me now?"

"I'm not. I just. I want this so much that it scares me into not wanting it. And then, I don't know what to do with myself."

"I'm doing this, because... Because sometimes I'm scared. And sometimes I'm unsure, and this is familiar. But most times, I'm frustrated and I need a way out. Most times, it's the only way I know how to hold on to myself."

"I'm spinning," she tells me, looking up.

"But then, once the spinning slows itself, and you strain to see through the blur in your eyes,

it feels like you've found yourself. Like you will. Like you'll be okay."

"Like I'll be okay."

"Like I'll be okay."

Post-holiday

I'm tired. Tired tired tired.

Brain dead, and I don't exaggerate. But I crawled back to the office with the rest and did more work until it was too late. And then I stuck myself in a cab.

And I'm so tired, I'm almost teary-eyed.

But then, I'm not tired of my life, not really. And I'm happy about that.

Jay decided to play me some songs that made me miss LA. And so I did. I stared out the cab window, half-smiling, half-too-tired-to, and I missed LA.

And her.

Well, I'd been thinking of her anyway.

LA makes me swim in a whirl of mixed feelings sometimes.

And I missed LA; The walking home in the cold, turning familiar corners and noting where I was by the Christmas Decor of each house.

But then I also remembered constantly thinking about her when I was there. And missing her. And constantly fighting things I'd never thought or felt before.

And missing her.

So sitting here, in a cab at peak hour, staring out the window while a song played itself in my ears, made me think of all the things I thought about when I missed her.

It made me smile and I didn't mind that.

And I remember why I chose to be here, and I don't mind that either.

But then I also miss LA.

I want to go back for a while. Which is funny, because I thought I'd already gotten my fix.

On my way back to Singapore, I just thought, "Oh My Gawd, I cannot possibly do two months here. Not without her."

I surprise myself with that thought, even now.
I had a nightmare last night. And it was funny because it was a nightmare. Not funny like, hahaha, funny like, weird and bizarre.

So I was back in LA for like, a month and a half.

And the first week, I'm top of the world, cozying up in one of the places in the world where I've always felt at home and comfy.

But then, the end of that first week comes around and I think, "So this is it, right?"

Except we've still got five weeks to go. Six, actually, in my dream, for some reason.

And I'm just like, "Shit, ohmygawd." And I can't do it. Like I literally, didn't know how I'd see myself through the rest of the weeks there.

Which is bizarre because I mean, much as I miss people, it doesn't happen like that.

And I just.

Well I don't know.

It was a nightmare.

I'm fantastically, absurdly tired. And I would really like to go to bed, like right now.

Except,

I would also very much like to go for a run.

I had pork today.

It tastes like a pig died in my mouth.

I only ate it for the chilli though.

Told you I was tired.

______________________________

I'll buy you Rogaine, when you start losing all your hair

Sew on patches, to all you tear.

Cos I,

love you more than I could promise.

We spend our lives trying to figure it out

and I don't even think we know what it is we're trying to figure out,

until we do.

Then everything sorta clicks and falls into place and you find yourself going, "Maybe that's why."

(:

Next Stop.

Sometimes, it stings to think that we might not be able to be around for each other when we're hurting most.

Sometimes, I'm afraid.

Because I will, and I do, want to fix it, make it better, make it go away, make you happy, except I can't.

Sometimes, I'm afraid, because there is something painfully familiar here. And I'm afraid of tipping balances. Afraid of it showing through, how I'm not actually enough, and all the thoughts I'm thinking in relation to that.

Mostly, I'm afraid.

And I hate that.

Why does it feel like this?

I don't know where you are sometimes,

and I'm not sure how this happened.

I never was good with daily planners and tongue lashing
was always better with my hands and at lip crashing

On love, sex and marriage

I've been having conversations recently-

of sex, of love, of relationships, of marriage being on the cards.

It's like this over-discussed topic that doesn't seem to get any clearer every time we talk about it, or it comes up.

I read an old post that started off with 1) a conversation I had with someone I was seeing at the time and 2) a song I'd written.

And when I read that old post just now, I thought, "Hey, there's so much clarity here."

I realize I'm still pretty much the same person. And I'm grateful for that.

In random order, these are things that've come up

1) Different Default Settings

This was an eye-opening conversation.

I realized just how much expectation I project onto others, just because of what I've been through. I seem less tolerant of people who are particularly clingy/emotionally attached because they've started sleeping together. Simply because I acknowledge the difference between a) being into someone and therefore sleeping with them Versus b) being into someone because you've been sleeping with them.

But someone pointed out to me that in the same way that I don't like how it's expected of me to do/feel X, Y and Z because we've slept together, it's not fair to expect the other person to not do/feel as such.

2) Pushing The Envelope

So Guy A was talking about sleeping with Girl B.

He went on, in graphic detail, about how Girl B was often uncomfortable with what he did/ was doing in bed. And in their most recent encounter, Girl B kept physically stopping him from whatever it was he was trying to do, except he did it anyway. And she made a huge fuss (according to him) and said, "Why do you always have to push my envelope?"

His argument is, that it's a self-centered thing for her to have said. That maybe, that's what gets him and he wants to do that. That it isn't about her and pushing her envelope. That a week ago, she was iffy about him doing things that now she's perfectly fine with.

Here's my take: Fuck Off.

I think it's self-centred for You to think that it's self-centred. Not everyone's up for the same kind of thing, and I personally, very strongly believe that you need to respect that. I honestly feel sorry for Girl B. A little bit. Because I also figure, if she didn't/doesn't want her envelope pushed, then she wouldn't be back.

But it's funny-

this is precisely what I've talked about before. This is what I cannot stand- that a lot of guys get pissed off if a girl doesn't want to do certain things in bed.

Like someone else at the table that night pointed out, sex is giving yourself to another person. There's no way around it. And a lot of people give 80% of themselves. But when you go all out, and give all of you, there is such liberation. Now I don't doubt that. But shouldn't that giving of themselves completely, that going all out, shouldn't it be because we actually want to? Has anyone ever actually thought about that?

For crying out loud, if this person isn't up for half the things that you're up for in bed, then just stop. Stop sleeping with him/her. Don't do it and then get pissed off.

What's the point?

3) Time-out

So.

Say, you're in love with someone. Or you love someone, whichever. And you love them such that you're sleeping with them, and you don't feel like sleeping with anyone else. And you're in a relationship. And it's all fine and dandy. But then when you start scraping rocks, and you're trying to figure out what you want, and then you go on a time-out, I know technically you're allowed to and no one has any right to be upset but, how do you then go and sleep around like crazy?

I mean, don't get me wrong, I am one who understands just taking sex for what it is and liking it, and not needing it to mean anything. But if say, you're really in love with someone else, how would you do that? If you're really in love with them, and they're the only one you really want, then how do you get intimate with someone else, the moment the one you want has her back turned? Or I mean, you could be using it as a crutch, like people use drinking. I don't know.

I really am not being judgmental, and I apologize profusely if it sounds like that.

It's just an honest question, and one that's been on my mind. So I'm asking.

4) I am very happy, thank you very much.

What IS it with guys that think we all need dick in our lives?! Stop it. Stop. Just.Stop.

5) I've got a friend who's going through a breakup. Again.

Not like she's been in and out of a lot- that's the thing. It's the same guy, over and over again, for more than six years now I think. And when they're good, they're good, and when it's over, it's so fucking painful. I feel bad for her, but there isn't anything I can do.

Another friend says that she's the one who chooses to go back to him, to be perpetually stuck in this psycho-emotional nightmare of a cycle. And we can't do shit. Because this is what she wants.

And sometimes, I just look at it. I look at all of it and think, how do people do such things to the people they love. How do you hold someone for an entire night, and tell them how special they are and then fuck them over. Why do things like that happen? How does it even happen?

And why do we always find it so difficult to come away from things like that?

6) On a happier note-

I've got a couple of friends who've just gotten engaged. (The second hasn't been confirmed on Facebook yet. So I won't talk about it until I'm pretty sure. Clearly Facebook spreads the news faster hey)

But YES, engaged! whoohoo!

The first pair is Nick and Alexis. Gawd, I am SO, SO happy for them. I think they're the most adorable pair, and considering how long they've been together. They are just so aww-worthy! It's adorable.

I love being happy for people who are getting married. I don't usually. I mean, I honestly think people should think about it more carefully. It doesn't mean that you HAVE to have been together for like, five years at least or something- it doesn't work like that.

But I wish more people would see that marriage isn't the next thing on your To Do list, right after Get-High-Paying-Stable-Job and right before Have-Intelligent-Babies-With-Perfect-Eyesight.

I'm happy for Nick & Alexis, YAY THEM! ((:

_____________________________________________

I remember the first time I saw you, and then the first time I actually met you.

The first thing you said to me, the first time we went out.

"You make me do funny things," you said one day, and then you kissed me on the cheek.

You're incredibly special, and there are so many things that I feel with you that I've just, never felt before. I like it. I love you more for it sometimes, I think.

And we take our time, and take things as they come- I haven't minded that.

But there are questions I have that I don't know how to ask, or how they'll come up, or how I'll deal with the answers when they come.

ugh

Just when I thought I'd called it quits on days where I drank like a bleeding fish.

This was remarkably daft.

I want to go back to bed.

Because

The thought of you makes me smile.
And sometimes, I think, that's all I'll need.
I love you.

And wind in my ears

With a sad song on repeat,
And blood on my hands

Chlovelle

is 25 months old now.

She's adorable.

My, they grow fast don't they?

Though, I can't say I'd know.

Letters

There's a part that I want to let her into.

But I'm scared because, there's a bit too much of me in there.

From the madness of this desk

Amongst papers and spreadsheets and things I ought to be doing-

1) There are things that are bigger than you and the things you're whining about
2) He said, you always have a choice, whether or not to let things bother you.
3) Sometimes, I don't know where you guys are or how to find you, or how to get to you. I miss you guys, and I'd really like to just sit around the pool and laugh at the crazy lady that lives on the third floor.
4) I haven't been feeling like I've been enough- in a lot of ways, in various situations.
5) I'm been running out of words with people. I've been running out of words with and for myself.

I'll go running later

Dear Whoever You are

She wants to stop.

On some level, in some way, she wants to stop. Kind of. Just a little bit.

But she can't. She can't and she won't.

Because she doesn't want to. And believe me, she doesn't want to want to.

Nails digging into herself, she tried to hold tight.

Hold, hold, hold on tight as the tiny space she's in just spins and spins and spins.

A single voice, pained and desperate for answers, screams Why. But she pushes beyond that voice,

closes her eyes and tries to, just for two seconds,

be okay.

who wants to give in

Why do you always fuck things up?

"That was stupid."
"I know, leave me alone."
"No. I'm not going to. Would you like to know why? Would you?"
"No I don't actually, I don't actually want to know."
"Because you need to know how mind-numbingly stupid you are- I want to laugh at you. I've been laughing at you, and I still want to. Gawd, seriously? Did you think that would actually work? Backfired now didn't it?"
"Just lea-"
"No, no I won't just leave it. Your actions are rather after-the-fact don't you think? I'm sorry, I still can't get over how stupid you are."

It's cold in the room. She crying, or she wants to. She can't tell anymore. And she can't turn away. She wants to bite into something, channel all that she feels into something that'll hurt. But she can't move, so she just grits her teeth instead.

"I'll fix it. I'm going to fix it."
"Really now, and how do you propose you'll do that, hmmm?"
"I don't know, but I just fucking will, okay? I'm fucking going to fix it."
"You'd better. You're running out of time little girl. You're running out of time."

What's the matter Mary Jane?

Vile, repulsive,

weak.

Who wants to give in

who wants to give in

Who wants to give in.

Somehow you have shattered my defence

You're perfect
You make me smile, make me whole,
Keep me safe, girl with you, I'm home.
You,
You're perfect

It's the things you do, that make me fall hard for you.

Can't do anything right now can I?

But I have this, and this is me.
And it is control.

I love how people figure they know how much or how little you feel. How it is so fucking easy to look at all the things I'm not doing as opposed to the things I actually am.
How it's just always easier to disregard how people feel or what people need.

How I'm always in the wrong, I'm always doing something that's wrong or not good enough or that could be/ could've been better.
How I'm just wrong. All wrong, period.

It's okay, you'll only disappear

"Why're you doing this?" She asks nervously. She's afraid, afraid of this side that she's never actually seen before. She's fucking petrified.
"Because I need to, don't you understand?" Comes the reply, "because I have to, I must. Because I'm scared too but this is control."
"Do you want to stop?" She takes a deep breath, trying desperately to look the other in the eye. She can't though, so she let's her gaze slide away from the brown eyes that hold her and focuses on a collar bone. "Because," she takes another deep breath, "because it hurts. It's starting to hurt. Please?" Her eyes are pleading, her fingernails digging into the palm of her hands.

"I can't." The other says simply.

yours to have

This is gonna hurt if it ever ends
But somehow you have shattered my defense
This is gonna hurt if it ever starts
So promise you'll be careful with my heart

Barely inches out of reach

Two, this month.

And all I'm feeling is this feeling

That I finally got it right.

So the long weekend spent away from home drew to a close. Fell asleep before two, and switched my alarm clock off at five knowing that hers would go off in another 45minutes.

We had breakfast a little past half six in the morning. I like it- waking up early just for breakfast.
I suppose if everything went on forever then there wouldn't ever be things to look forward to. And anticipation does often make things more interesting. So yeah, it's a wee bit of a bummer but then, there's always things to look forward to. I happen to think I'm a pretty damn lucky girl(:

A pezzi

quite a few good morning Beautiful days this weekend(:

Good morning beautiful, how was your night?
Mine was wonderful with you by my side
And when I open my eyes and see your sweet face
It's a good morning beautiful day

I'll never worry if it's raining outside
'Cause in here with you girl, the sun always shines

Good morning beautiful, how was your night?
Mine was wonderful with you by my side
And when I open my eyes and see your sweet face
It's a good morning beautiful day

A good morning beautiful day

I could spend a while

Just falling asleep. Curling up and just, just falling asleep with you. Or sitting in front of the telly, or in parks, or by water.

I think what I love about you is how, all these simple, quiet, activities that'd I'd do alone becomes, well, special when it's with you.
The normal-ness of it all, the quiet contentment- that's what you make me feel. That's what you bring to all these little things we find ourselves doing together.
That's how I've figured I'm rather in love with you.