I...

Used to adore you.

I always mean to do things on trains. It's a 20 minute ride to and from work, each day. That's a lot of time to catch up on essays. Maybe read the news. I could send all those texts I keep meaning to send, the ones where I tell a friend what I thought upon first viewing their favourite movie. The ones where something funny happened and it made me think of them. The texts saying 'thank you' for walking me through that bad feeling I had the other week. The ones letting them know that even though we haven't talked in ages, I still think of them.

But I don't. I sit down. I hit 'shuffle'. A song comes on and for some reason I *have* to pay attention to it. I have to give it the full dedication it deserves. I have to reprocess each memory and emotion I'd formed for the music, the lyrics. Sometimes I smile, embarrassed at the immature thought processes I once had. At the fantasies I once conjured to get through something: a break up, a fight, boredom, a long run that just wouldn't end. At the memories, silly, sad and loving. I remember driving up the mountain with my best friend. That party where I made a splash and met that guy. That morning with a friend watching Doctor Who. All the same song. So many memories. 

So please know, if life gets in the way. If we move to different places. If you pass. If we fall out. If we fall in or out of love. There is always a song that will remind me of you, that I will give my full attention to.

Happy New Year. 

Breaking My Back Just to Know Your Name

But heaven ain't close in a place like this. 

Writing this because it was amazing and frankly the ending is magnificent and needs to be told.

I was volunteering for a festival, taking details to send out a survey, which is pretty intimidating- walking into a room full of strangers by yourself and making conversation and walking away with emails. It's basically a master class of How to Pick Up. Needless to say I got about 30 contact details (double my target). Anyway, I digress. I was there early, in the band room, and without patrons there I just got all the band members to sign up: enter That Guy. Tall. Broad shouldered. Chatty. Ginger, but that's not the worst thing in the world, and as it turned out, very useful. I make a second round of the room and come back to the main group and there's a bit more chatting before he picks up a guitar and stands in front of a mic. *SWOON* Then, as if my vagina wasn't already activated, at the end of the set it's revealed he's also a FIREMAN. Ugh. 

I left to meet a mate and said bye on the way out. *CUE OPEN PRAYING WE'D MEET AGAIN*

Today, I lamented to a mate of mine that I hadn't seen him since and I clearly needed to get all up on that. I gave her his first name and the name of the artist he was playing with and in under 5 minutes she'd FUCKING FOUND HIM ONLINE. 

Guys. Gingers. They're FUCKING CONNECTED. They can find each other. Ala Vulcans or the Turtles in Rocko's Modern Life. Mind=BLOWN. 

Tidal Waves Don't Beg Forgiveness

Every guy I've dated thus far has enjoyed being with me. They get swept up in my energy and they go along for the ride, much like a ship caught up in a stormy sea. And much like a ship caught in a storm they are weak, and brittle, and eventually the mast is broken and the hull is cracked: the ocean won and the relationship is over.

My idea of romance is to find another sea, someone playful under a wind, violent and dark in a storm and at times eerily calm to roil against for all eternity. I don't care what form that relationship takes, provided they love me in return, provided we are equals.

You Can Never Really See the Top from the Bottom

I don't pay enough attention to the good things when I've got them:

Like my host of amazing friends that I've made up here. Some really quickly like Laura and Candice. Some over time like Chris and Vince. Some older friendships that I renewed like Lana, Ally and Stevie. Some I made randomly that flourished into something else more wonderful. They've all been incredibly wonderful and supportive and I can't fathom the emptiness I would have had to endure had I not met each of them. 

Like the opportunity to work with Triple RRR, Joy, The Human Rights Art and Film Festival, Nite Art, Events Melbourne and Mad Dame. 

Like the opportunity to see some pretty amazing gigs, just because I live *here*. 

So I should probably get over myself. Some things suck right now, like properly, but it's not all bad.

Maybe That's Why Books Get Written...

Maybe that's why songs get sung.

I'm not sure, but I think I still believe in soul mates. Which is a weird concept for me, as I thought the notion was thrown out with Relationship Escalators.

Let Me See You Make Decisions

Without Your Television.

I was sitting at a table of friends, one of whom is married, yet I'm the focus of the sex jokes. Primarily that my diet consists of semen.

I spend a large amount of my waking hours with my friends. I am social like that. So to be told that someone feels like they aren't getting enough attention from me actually hurts.

I have a number of friend requests backed up on a social network that I had no idea about until today. I tell a friend who used a similar situation in a joke recently, and suddenly all of these 'friend requests' are actually just people seeking sex from me.

These are my friends.

These are smart and sophisticated men and women who spend half their time in debate about what constitutes fair behaviour between the sexes, consent, and perception. Yet I've had to bite back on validating myself in each situation. They don't need to be told that I only get laid twice a week, no matter how many boys I'm dating. They don't need to be told that I run myself ragged between work and seeing my friends because both these things are more important to me than sleep. They don't need to be told that I have more to offer than just sex, that I seek friendships before I do relationships, and (see above point) I work my arse off to make sure that everyone knows how important to me they are.

There is no point to this post. I'm just angry and sick and tired and I would love to turn to any of them right now but I'm too offended to.

Tear the Petals off of You

Make you tell the truth.

I have a destructive side to my nature. I don't like it. I've never liked it, but it's always been there. It always manifests in the same way: I want to do something dangerous. I want to put myself in harm's way. Or start a fight. Or say or do something truly nasty. I always want to be dangerous.

I don't, though. I go for a run. Or call a friend. Or draft a blog. Or confront the people who have (in their way)  contributed to that emote.

I think this makes me different. I'm aware of my feelings as I feel them. I'm aware that I could very well go ahead and be destructive, but I don't. I don't want to hurt feelings, intentionally or not. I enjoy the level of trust my friends have in me. I love being the person they think of channeling when in a hard situation. I never, EVER want to destroy that.