Time Makes You Bolder

Sometimes you get this unshakable feeling of oncoming change. You feel like the whole world is changing around you and you're powerless to stop it. I feel this now.

I sit and watch as people disappear out of my life quicker than the water evaporating from our cups. They are going, one by one. I never really got to say goodbye. And as I watch them go I realise that I miss them. But while I miss them I never really expected that they would go. And so I sit in wonder and sadness as they march down the hill and out of my life. I don't think they are coming back this time. And I think they are okay with that. It hurts though. Despite the facade I do care. I do think that they have altered my life, even in the smallest or largest way. And as each of these people leave I think about the ways they've changed me as a person. I think about the good times and the bad times but mostly I think about the fact that I'll never get that back again. As time shifts and people move on I stand behind and watch their backs turn.

For every person I've claimed to not care about there really are things about them that I truly do admire, things that I myself cannot live up to. For their every fault they have a strength that outweighs the bad in my mind. For every wrong move they have words that will right them. For everything they have brought to my life brings a sadness to my heart as they leave me now.

For those I never said goodbye to, I miss you. But I'm scared. I will always be scared. And when I'm scared I will run from you. I will run from long inevitable goodbyes and I will run into the arms of a lonely night in the dark. For the comfort I've found in the darkness is one I am deserving of. It is here that I will lay down my deepest darkest thoughts. It is here that I will think unthinkable thoughts. And it is here that I will miss you all. I will miss you because in my own way I'm saying goodbye to you. Without you ever knowing.

Alone in the dark is a self indulgent comfort of mine. A place that is deserving of my ugly black heart. Alone in the dark I whisper long goodbyes to long forgotten people who drifted out of my life thinking I didn't care about them. For 4 years they thought we didn't care. And for 3 years now I've cried. I did care. It was just too hard. I'll never get my long goodbyes with those people I care about. I'll never get them because like me, they too are running from something. Maybe we aren't running from the same thing but we are running all the same. We'll never cross paths again, for your path is a step higher than mine and I'll never reach that level. At least not for a very long time I predict. I know you would be proud. Of who I'm becoming, of who I've become and of where I'm going.

As I sail off into the dark waters in my styrofoam boat I know you are watching, and I know you remember the good times, even if they were limited. I know you'll remember me.

Little Fish Feel

Today was a sad day. Tonight was a sad night. For a new member of our crew passed on. We only had him for a few hours but we had come to love him like he was one of our own. I mean sure he was significantly smaller than us, slimier than us and he was well..orange. But he was a part of our family nonetheless. Little fishy or the aptly named 'Joey' (who calls a goldfish joey?) swam out of our lives just as quickly as he swam in.

He was never meant for this world. His heart was too big. It exploded in the Big Fish accident of 08. Some people are just not meant to be. I believe I'm one of those people, but my heart is yet to explode and so tonight it is not about me but it is about Joey. The Little Fish who stole our hearts. Some may argue that we hardly knew the guy, who knows where he'd been or where he was going but isn't that just the point. It's not about where you've come from, it's about what he brought to our life on this significant day. And today he brought a new home, some rocks, and my brothers smelly socks.

Just hours into his new life Joey passed away. Floated to the top and begged to be taken to Fish heaven. Little Fish heaven that is, not that other place where the Big Fish lay. And as one fish passes I'm sure somewhere another fish is being brought into this world.

Tonight I tried to set an example for my younger brother and sister so I arrived at the funeral suitably dressed in all black and a red tie. The tie was for his bleeding heart that burst too soon for us all. And there we stood, the three musketeers in the doorway of our bathroom around the toilet bowl. Joey was in a small container of water and my sister slowly tipped all the water into the toilet until just Joey remained. She choked back the tears and I looked away. I just couldn't watch him go down to that dark place. Not without me at least.

Joey made a quiet descent into his new haven and we all stared down at his bulging fish eyes. He was looking back at us, saying thank you. He was thanking me for dressing appropriately. Thanking me for putting on a funeral song 'Welcome To The Black Parade'. He was thanking my sister for having a heart, and thanking my brother for well...shedding a few tears like only a man of his calibre would. Before she flushed him she asked me to say a few words, I'm no good at speeches, especially in my emotional distraught state. I sputtered out "Goodbye Little Fishy you'll go to a better place", my brother and sister nodded in unison and before she could flush him she dropped a rubber band into the toilet and the mood was understandably ruined. Giggles ensued and then my brother rushed to the flush button and sent Joey off on his way. I guess he doesn't like long goodbyes.

And with that we left the bathroom, satisfied that we had done Joey good, that we had done our best to give him a home and a roof over his head. And that he was going to Little Fish heaven now to swim with his brothers. So tonight as you sit down to dinner and dig into that big slab of fish, spare a thought for little Joey, he never quite made it to the chopping block.

Girls Girls Girls!

Going to highschool opened my eyes up to a whole world I never knew. A world of sex drugs and rock and roll. Or rather, short skirts, open shirts and sexuality.

There I was on my very first day of Year 7. I was a fresh faced albeit terribly naive youngster with a growing penchant for women. My first introduction to my peers at the ALL GIRLS school was when I entered a room and met eyes with a pair of legs I mean Year 12 students; our peer mentors. All I saw was a pair of bare legs propped up on the table matched with a shirt lingering below eye level. Wow. I'd never seen girls like this before. These weren't girls at all, these were women! Hot blooded fully fledged grown women! I was in heaven and I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

As a puny year Sevener I averted my eyes and hid my embarassed lesbian cheeks. Girls everywhere! This wasn't going to help me learn at all! What was my mum thinking. I mean she always told people I was never 'into' boys, but I wondered if she had only drawn this conclusion because she paid absolutely no attention to my life or if she had a secret gaydar neither of us knew about.

In the halls of this all girl school the girls held hands and kissed cheeks instead of saying "hello" and "goodbye". My mind was racing. This place is full of lesbians I thought! And I loved it. Over the many years to come at school I would come to learn this behaviour was common, normal even, and not at all sexual...in most cases. Except maybe mine.

I hid in the closet for the duration of highschool. While not fully realising there was a closet to hide in. It was great though, being in the closet. My girl crushes went totally unnoticed by all around me and were often mistaken for admiration or just plain friendliness. You see... I'm not the creepy type. I'm too obvious to be subtle. I'd be an awful stalker. Not to say I didn't try. I stalk people with my eyes and that is all I swear! It's not like one innocent smile would give me away. Nor would a glance or two or three, but when the occassional 'casual' glance became a full blown stare, I guess that's when I became abit too obvious. But never apparent. That's when I realised I probably was a little creepy. And thank god that attention was never returned! Who knows, I might have stumbled out of the closet 10 years earlier otherwise.

Give Me One Reason To Stay Here

I've failed at being the one thing I was born to be. A struggling artist. Actually..I'm still struggling. I'm just struggling at struggling really. I am making a departure from struggling artist to tortured artist, perhaps I'm moving higher in the food chain. No no last time I checked my balance I was still down the bottom.

I was raised by wolves, I'm permanently off your christmas* 'card' list, and I've got a wardrobe full of crappy paintings and a bruised ego. I gave all my paintings to my little sister cause she's no art critic, she wont laugh at me. She thinks they are "mad'. I think I'M MAD. You think I'm a joke. And I laugh.

On second thought perhaps she is an art critic. She called my painting "kinda ugly". It's pretty depressing when the only people who want your paintings are little kids or disillusioned family members (keeping in mind I was raised by wolves.) And heck they wont even pay money for them! Maybe selling art is not about the quality of your painting at all, but your skills as a salesman. If that's the case then I have no hope. I'm too kind. I can't rip people off. I can't tell them it's a beautiful picture if it's really half arsed. And that is where my 2 academic years of painting have left me. With 9 out of 10 paintings half arsed or mediocre. And the special ones I'm keeping for myself, as a sad reminder that I have some talent, but not nearly enough.

*I refuse to capitalise christmas because it just aint that great so take that spellcheck!

The Curse Of Freedom

Descending upon my newfound boredom..i mean freedom I have decided to compile a list of reasons why I have not written a blog to mark this historic event. And like a naughty puppy I'll sit in the corner and cower while you read them, waiting anxiously for you to approach me with your clipboard and suspiciously smart looking glasses.

My reasons are as follows:

• Since I have not been out of the house lately my stock of material has been running dangerously low and I've succumbed to writing blogs about monsters taking over my soul. And for reasons I cannot explain I believe people may not care to know these things. Thus I shall withhold my demons in search of more meaningful material, like the annoying people on the bus..or the magpie invasion in my street..who do they think they are anyway? Taking over my street! This is my town and there aint room for the 100 of us!
• A direct result of my boredom has led to hours of playing solitaire on the computer which has numbed my ability to feel alive and functional as a human being. Thus freezing out any emotional feelings and musings I may or may not experience.
• My lack of ability to provide as a breadwinner has led to a deep depression. A depression that is even deeper than that in your couch. One would think being funnier than sliced bread would be sufficient enough to win some..
• It's cold!! I want the warmth back and until then I'm on a blog writing strike! Mother nature I'm looking directly at you. Or maybe I'm looking in the mirror at my windswept hair..
• I'm a strong believer in absence makes the heart grow fonder, hence my lack of blogs lately. You see I think that the longer I go without writing one the more people will want it. And when I finally write that magic blog I will be showered with confetti and praise and maybe a few fireworks cause I'm special like that. The point is you miss me! And I miss me too..just quietly.

To conclude I would like to announce that I am... back on the chain gang.

When The Dust Settles

I once got given soap in the shape of a slice of blueberry pie...needless to say, I never used it. Let this be a lesson to 'stupid people' we don't like soap! People who collect soap are sad and need a new hobby. Cause you know what? No one actually likes to get given soap that sits on your bathroom shelf and collects dust over the years then gets thrown in the bin. It doesn't smell nice, and it isn't useful! If you're going to collect things then collect puppies! With 10 puppies you'd never be lonely again. But with 10 bars of silly shaped soap you'd spend your lifetime in the shower trying to use them all up. And in case you haven't heard we are slowly but surely running out of water!!! *feigns shock*

Yes I can write blogs about soap and still have a credible reputation. I'm a busy nerdy person and haven't had time to observe real humans lately thus I resort to observing things around the house, like dusty bars of soap. Oh and another thing, no one uses hair gel anymore.

Let's Take A Train To Anywhere, I Want To Feel The Wind In My Hair With You

These empty walls bear no resemblance to you. To your love. My longing expression is cast back into my empty eyes. you are not out there, you are not in here either.

My soul slowly dies. I feel you slipping away from me. I'm looking for you, for your longing eyes to meet mine again. To enter my world. My empty world.

These people, these vacant empty people know nothing of my soul. Only that it is empty.

I yearn for you. For your warmth to fill this cold void beside me. I grasp the air desperately, but I do not grasp you. All I get is an empty reality. This world is empty without you. The warmth I crave is far. Your world is removed from mine. And I am cold.