Every moment seems like a strange time in my life. I think everything is perfect though, I can’t imagine things being any different. I am so tremendously happy and sad. I’m going for a walk to go get rainbow ice cream now. Even though sometimes bad things happen, I can tell things are going to be just fine.
The beauty in a memory is based on environmental and emotional factors. The job of the writer is to articulate these figurative concepts. The reader then takes the words and turns it into an emotional experience. The human mind is a constant converter of the literal and figurative.
I really only do write about [you] don’t I? That is sad and pathetic. I suppose I can’t really think about much else, or maybe I choose not to. There’s no point doing emotions in halves - nothing good ever comes of that. Be in absolute infatuation or try to kill yourself, they kind of seem like my only options sometimes. I actually get satisfaction from being deeply upset, I feel like I’m learning. I crave melancholy. The only thing that drags me out of this gross obsession is the fact you exist. I lay here writing this and somewhere in the wilderness you are breathing air in and out of you. The mere fact you are living puts me at ease. It makes me okay with feeling happy.
Thoughts for thinking’s sake I feel like a prisoner of my thoughts, I keep thinking and thinking but no matter how much I think the thoughts never stop coming and they start becoming vile and vicious. I feel nauseous because I know things are exactly how I want them to be, but I feel like there’s something wrong. Like I’m forgetting to look the right way up or maybe everyone has the same haircut and I haven’t noticed yet. I know everything smells different, I picked up on that one. BANG! Things crack sometimes. I like it when old houses have cracks in their foundations. I like to think I’m a little bit like those houses. I am going for a walk, everything is just a little too busy inside of me right now.
My news feed seems to be a sea of comments regarding valentines day and how lame it is and how it’s just a commercial holiday designed to make money off of unsuspecting lovers. These people are just resentful because they don’t have a partner or whatever. I feel like all holidays are just commercial ploys to get unsuspecting consumers to buy things, Christmas, Easter etc, but we still do them because it’s the idea surrounding the occasion. I, for one, actually kind of enjoy valentines day.
I used to be resentful but now I’ve come to embrace other peoples love. I love watching couples hug and be happy together (still not really one for the public kissing but maybe one day!) and if a day can do that; so be it. Don’t feel resentful. You (and I) will have our own love filled days. Last year I spent valentines day skyping my boyfriend from Japan and being silly and pulling faces and eating japanese confectionary over webcam and it was the best ever, even though we were 8000 kilometres away from each other.
I’m really looking forward to going to school and seeing my friends tomorrow. Hopefully there will be a lot of love shared by everyone, like some kind of love filled butterfly effect.
(I am really lame tonight, I suppose I just feel especially happy or something)
Reasons why March is going to be brilliant • Home alone for two weeks whilst my papa is in Japan • The Garden of Unearthly Delights (which is opening on thursday!!!) • Bon Iver • The Adelaide Fringe • The Adelaide Festival • WOMADelaide
Today I went to the museum by myself after laying on the uni lawns with a handful of friends and foreign exchange students. Apart from the taxidermy section, I haven’t been to the museum since I was quite young. Everything smelt familiar and I wandered about aimlessly soaking in nostalgia. I found a whole section on skeletons with bird skulls in draws hidden away which I never knew existed. I rolled about on walls with projections of under the ocean splayed across them and watched fish swim along my arms. I stuck my hand in a wall of ice and made friends with a little boy. We shot invisible bullets at each other. I stood on the glass panelling above the giant squid for a long, long time, pretending I was suspended underneath the water’s surface.