Look to the sky

Him:

Tonights message comes from the clouds: things can definitely be patchy, but you can always find your way clear to a familiar sight. And maybe lifes about cumulating the things you want to look forward to seeing through all the patchy clouds..

I’m a collector of precious moments, I am. But I would rather hoard moments I’ve had then fanciful daydreams about what could happen. So as much as I love the above musings, and especially the author of the musings, I can’t bring myself to be content with just looking forward to things.

But it is always easier to wade through the deep with your eyes trained on a happy ending.

2010
02/04
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How do we battle?

I hate resumes, any type of applications, surveys, school reports, short blurbs or biographies, questionnaires or loaded questions. I hate them because they demand for you to reduce everything to words. A couple of lines that is somehow meant to neatly sum up everything about you?

Five years in law school, and at the end of it all- forty something exams, and too many to count assignments later- it becomes two, maybe three, lines in my resume:

Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Law

Major in Development Studies and Media

Macquarie University, 2012

For the same reason, I hate applications that probes you for answers to questions ranging from “Explain a situation where you’ve demonstrated the ability to ______” (insert noteworthy ability) or “Why do you think you make a good candidate for ______?” (When I filled out my exchange application, they asked me this very question. It bothered me.) The prospect of having to fill out questions like these makes me put off completing the application, and I would only remember it again when it’s too late. I dread having to elaborate on myself and trying to say things that would make me stand out from the pack without seeming too… corny?

I don’t believe in any of it. I prefer interviews. I learnt at work that communication involves a mere 6% words. The other many percents involve the way you hold yourself and project what you’re saying. I could only hope that if someone could see how I felt while I’m answering a question that they’ll be swayed by my passion or conviction.

I could do so many things and feel all these feelings and you would just never be able to know it. How can I possibly describe? And could you really understand?

2010
01/31
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The love it takes to become a man

The night starts here, the night starts here, forget your name, forget your fear
The night starts here, the night starts here, forget your name, forget your fear

The pleasure part, the afterthought, the missing stone in the graveyard
The time we have, the task at hand, the love it takes to become a man
The dust at dawn is rained upon, attaches itself to everyone
No one is spared, no one is clean
It travels places you’ve never been or seen before

The night starts here, forget your name, forget your fear
You drop a coin into the sea, and shout out “Please come back to me”
You name your child after your fear, and tell them “I have brought you here”

The scary part, the aftershock, the moment it takes to fall apart
The time we have, the task at hand, the love it takes to destroy a man
The ecstasy, the being free, the big black cloud over you and me
And after that, the upwards fall, and were we angels after all?
I don’t know, I don’t know…

The night starts here, the night starts here, forget your name, forget your fear
The night starts here, the night starts here, forget your name, forget your fear
You drop a coin into the sea, and shout out “Please come back to me”
You name your child after your fear, and tell them “I have brought you here”

The night starts here…

2010
01/31
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SUCKER.

That’s my unshoed foot on the left. Trapped a someone else. HAH.

2010
01/30
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What I felt and where I felt it

I found myself driving, with no exciting prospect for a pit stop. This was in Tasmania, where my travel companions weren’t what I expected. I expected a bit more alive.I was bored and listless.

When I had pulled over and meandered my way to the Falls, I was standing there feeling remarkably underwhelmed. It wasn’t a very beautiful sight, to be honest. Which was why I felt that I had to climb it.

I waded through jagged rocks and woody debris to reach the base of the waterfall and then clamber all over it’s soft and supple mossed green cliff face. I’ll admit that I spent some time groping around. I can still almost feel the way the moss gave way under my hand as I pressed down on it. All the while, feeling startled every time water dripped from all around me.

I could relive the exhilaration of having climbed a waterfall, over and over again.

2010
01/30
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Where innocent thoughts go to die

I don’t just think. Thoughts live in my head. I mentally strangle them to death, catching as much meaning, real or imagined, as I can.

I love seeing how much I can get out of them. What I sometimes find at the end.

This is how it can go:

(While drinking a juice box… Or a popper, as I like to call it.)

1. This is so underrated. It’s the easiest thing to drink while on the run.

2. I wonder what it’ll be like to run into a wall built out of juice boxes/poppers…

3. I wonder if they’ll explode?

4. Some of them are bound to burst, and I’m bound to get wet, dirty and sticky from all my efforts

5. It’ll be easier if they were just filled with water instead

6. Why don’t they have water boxes?

7. Why they are always in plastic bottles, instead?

8. Plastic bottles are bad for the environment, aren’t they?

9. They usually just go into the bin and then to the tip, so

10. Where’s my nearest tip/dump?

11. What’s the ratio of people to tips/dumps?

12. MAN. I go through a lot of rubbish. *GUILT STRICKEN*

p.s. I honestly just had that line of thought…

2010
01/30
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Run, little rabbit, run

Every sentiment hangs around

No longer than a minute or two

I find I keep falling for love

But I can’t seem to follow it through

So run, little rabbit, run

I leave one good hand on the wheel

Been counting mile markers for days

Everything falls further behind

I can disappear in several ways

Matt Duke’s Rabbit

I realised something. All my “What’s good for me” series has been centered around the different was in which I could escape.

2010
01/24
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What’s good for me? Silences

Reprieve from all the thoughts and noises crowded in my head.

It might sound like a cowardly retreat, but I think it’s strategic. I know that it revives me…

2010
01/22
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English Lessons

Verisimilitude (noun)

1. the appearance or semblance of truth; likelihood; probability.

2. something, as an assertion, having merely the appearance of truth.

(from dictionary.com)

Remember those days in primary school when you were assigned a spelling list to learn for the week? Ten/fifteen words smarter a week. Look, Say, Cover, Write, Check.

2010
01/21
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Secret heart, what are you made of?

Happy this and Merry that. Everything before. I know I’ve missed a lot, and that’s more for the fact that I just didn’t know how to tell you how I’ve felt.

I left 2009 standing in a crowd of thousands and thousands. The Falls Music and Art Festival at Marion Bay, with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs heralding in 2010. I took a mental snapshot in my head, and left the party that reached a ferocious peak at the expected time. I quietly went back to camp and laid down on my sleeping bag, head poking out of the tent. Face to face with the night sky, I thought of the others I was sharing the moment.

I bunched my sleeping bag up against me for company and read my bible. Prayed.

And that was my New Years.

2010
01/17
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