Roadside Assistance

A strange weekend.

Friday night was eventful. Which isn't a strange occurrence since residing within the Cremorne Street family. While at Melanie's birthday, I was assaulted by a friend who proclaimed me to be the next millionaire, a retail prodigy, with a fear of letting go and taking a chance on success. It was freaky. Yet rousing. And as much as I knew he was talking shit out of his alcohol induced state, it felt reassuring that someone (albeit drunk) had the belief that I would make it if I just took a chance. And that I would find that soon enough.

Then there was Charlie's birthday. A perplexing experience for me, while intoxicated. Unspeakable occurrences (purely non-sexual) with a male model I so many times dreamed of as a teenager. Drunken chats with people I didn't know, and people I didn't want to know. The world became smaller for me. And I felt more of the need to escape.

Sunday was spent with the Cremorne Crew. Lunching at Babble, speaking of our Summer plans. Then laughing on the balcony, on the first day that felt like Spring, albeit a week too early. We watched the sunset and drank. Speaking with Bassi about my job, I felt that fire alight, the fire that has kept me so motivated in my job.

I chatted to a friend online tonight. He asked me how the 'manhunting' was going. For the first time in a long time, I answered differently to the usual 'not hunting, so nothing'. Instead, it was 'no luck'. The difference in wording is small, yet the meaning, so much more. I felt like it was time to stop pretending that I didn't want someone in my life. Stop letting pride get to me. There's a major lacking in balance in my life, no matter how much I deny it, when I don't have someone to share my life with.

And as another Summer rolls around, and as Mika's 'Happy Ending' plays, I wonder what the next six months will bring me. Or where I will take myself.

Last Request

i stood on the corner of little collins and russell street today. and looked up as my she spoke to me of things i held little interest in. i saw the clouds passing, the sky clearing.

as things clear in my life, the antibiotics taking their course, the clarity emerges. only to make space for more things to come. whether they be better or worse, i was yet to acknowledge.

and as night fell, and i travelled through melbourne, the only clarity that came to me was complexity and the understanding that no matter how clear life can be, no matter how many clouds dematerialise within this small coffee cup i call 'my life', there'll always be that impediment that prevents that clear view we all hope for.

that's okay. because change brings opportunity. and that boy told me that today. the secret isn't visualisation. it's choice.

i can't accept that we're going nowhere. he and i have had so many similar crossways. and he's just as strong as i am.

he walked into my life momentarily, presented a new way i should look at life, and as soon as he left today, things looked different. and i'll never see him again. yet his outlook has left an invaluable mark upon me.

sigh.

life is fascinating at the worst of times.

Hedi Slimane for Dior Homme

So, I'd like to formally announce my obsessive infatuation for Dior Homme.


Terribly, I could too easily get a credit card with a 20k limit to go to Assin and max it out on Dior items. The jacket I tried today, the dress shoes, the sneakers, the bag, the pins, the sunglasses, the ties, the suits, the t-shirts. All which fit me to a tee and suit my style like no other designer.

Hedi Slimane is a God, and I am his newest disciple.


From now, I shall buy no significant item other than Dior Homme.


iTunesNowPlaying : Herbie Hancock Feat. Christina Aguilera - A Song For You

Who Knew

I'm writing this blog in frustration. I'm frustrated with people who can't see the bigger picture. It's funny really. Someone I know has had the audacity to attempt to forge a friendship with me. You may say, 'yeah, so?' But let me finish.

They've stabbed me in the back. Sorry, correction, they are stabbing me in the back. Repeatedly.

So you see, I'm somewhat confused by their attempt to (as primary school lingo goes) 'be my best friend'. I guess they're trying to save face really, because the person doesn't realise that everything comes back to me. I hear it all. All the words, the gossip, the breaking of trust. And for me to realise this perpetuation by someone who I thought was my friend, is a true revelation of reality and how trust is always something of the past*.

You learn to choose your friends wisely. I was taught by my mother. Every so often, I'd make a mistake. Now is one of those times.

And you try to get into my life. Into the lives of people around me. You surround yourself with fragments of me. It's all a little 'single white female syndrome', don't you think? I'm tired of sharing my life. Time for someone to get their own.


* You'll always have trust in retrospect. You don't 'trust' in the present, you take a chance. But when you look back, you can analyse. If the chance you took on someone was successful, it's defined as trust. If it was a failure, then to some extent, 'trust' was broken.

I just called...

For the first time.

I called my mother to tell her I love her.

Permanent Markers

It's only fitting that today was the first day I really felt the sharp cold in Melbourne. And while my recent happiness and positivity was peaking, I was shocked to hear the passing of Michael Stribley, an Old Xaverian who graduated the same year as I.

We didn't socialise in the same circles, nor were we friends, but the sadness that washed over me as I read over his accident on the way to LAX upon his return home from a trip around the world, gave me shivers nonetheless.

We work day in, day out, while people pass through our lives and we often don't think twice about the path they take from then on. As we grow older, and as the seasons pass, we should all take more time to recognise that each of us brings something so special, so unique, to our existence within this world.

As I reflect on the hallways of the majestic Xavier grounds, I see faces I haven't thought about since leaving those grounds, about people I thought I would never see again. And I realise, some of them I *really* never will see again, yet I saw them everyday for 7 years, and they, both collectively and individually, shaped who I am today. And for that, I am grateful.

May we all travel safely, die peacefully, and remember that each of us leave this world with an indelible mark upon those we have encountered.


Michael Stribley. RIP.

as the scenery grows, i see in different lights

you say never again. is never a promise?

i need to let go. i want to let go.

'never' is thrown around so easily. which is strange, because it is somewhat how i feel i have been treated.

just make never a promise. and i'll make never again a certainty.

dx.