Distractions Galore

Oh fuckin’ hell.

My good intentions are forever being thwarted.

Laziness…extreme boredom…internet and multiple tabs…youtube…I mean, it’s insane, that I even remember what I set out to do, or want to do rather..since it is more often than not, never ever, ever, everrrrrrrr
accomplished.

The ease with which laziness compounded by the numerous “suggestions” as I bounce from one site to another, without even reading one site fully.. It is ridiculous..madness… but apart from that observation, and resulting disgust with myself, *shrugs*, what do else do I do!?

BUT NO. THIS HAS TO STOP. ugh.. 25 and I act like I’m bloody 52 years old… So today’s Australia Day; national day for Australia, but a date that comes with its own set of baggage..namely the name and the date itself. But somehow it’s achieved a national consensus and to date has stayed that way.

I was making grand plans of going out and seeing the hotair balloon shows and fireworks. For better or worse, I stayed at home and to make myself feel sicker (which didn’t work) I checked out the sites with the programs and found the hotair balloon show CANCELLED! Yay. And fireworks are really overrated, unless it’s poppin loose from Katy Perry’s..um..aura?… only cuz it’s so cool an effect.

And soooo.. staying in seemed soooo much more better an option and I didn’t sleep away the bloody afternoon…I can literally feel my sleep cycle riding around in circles gearing up for its triumphant return Also there’s something to be said in listening to Yaathe Yaathe in Australia, land of INXS.

HAH! aNYHOO.. There’s too much going on with me and should be going on with me that there is no reason for me to feel such a blah-ness. Well, I have just realised that all this while, it’s not that I have been sleeping through my alarm clock but it’s been sleeping alongside me. So the switch in my head made contact with logic and I clicked the lever up to ‘ON’ for the clock…and oh my, my heart still is not forgiving me for the extreme shock it got..I mean it wasn’t my mind getting scrambled so much as it was the rattling in my ribcage (in rhythm with the alarm or in a desperate bid to get out and beat it to a pulp, I will never know) that woke me up alongside that dratted clock.
But it’s picture perfect.

 

So so cute that I can’t have it hiding away in some cupboard, gathering dust and gaining an authentic vintage look..hmmm…that is a thought.. ok but no.

See how random this whole thing is turning out to be? Maybe I should draft my drafts in the future….
…Or brainstorm my drafted-drafts-to-be-drafted.

I should get out

But I simply am just sooo lazy… it’s such a perfect day to be honest. For doing whatever you wanna do.

I love the scene my window paints… maybe I should shift my bed around so that I’m no longer sleeping with it behind me.

Big big clouds rolling in and and yet, the grass and the greens so fresh from the bright sunlight..And yet.. the wind rushes down on the branches and twigs begging them to come and play… It looks like me tugging on anyone’s arm looking for attention and a second of their time to listen to my brilliant ideas…in which case a second is a lie..but I’m so entertaining you won’t even notice.

And like you, the greens and colors have no other go but to play with the wind.. nodding and running..breaking and rustling..

I know that if I were to go out now, I am not gonna be leaving the mall with JUST what I wanted and will be spending gobbles of time in there… And I’d much rather do that tomorrow when there’s no one home and stayin alone with a phantom might just drive me NUTS.

Fine, nutsier.

Hassle of a title.

Giving a title to this post is hard…or to any post for that matter. But the title is the least of it right…?

 

Anyway, 7 days in Sydney and so far it’s been good. Housekeeping-wise, just my dressing area, bed and luggages on the floor to clear up. I love how my desk and bird-outside-of-cage-earring-’stand’ looks
Tomorrow I will be getting my mobile, it looks so complex, I shudder at the thought of being its slave. Must remember to NOT put songs in it and not that many pictures. Must utilise the MP3 that my sis gave me…so weird how I miss her so. And Mum.
I’m so glad we did Orchard together, and she spoke to me about so many things… It is with immense pride and a sort of reverence that I listen to what she is saying at times. Old Soul that thing is… Sometimes I feel Universe got our birth-timings mixed up.

I can never forget what Mother said, about having brought her in, for me. And what she’s doing now for me… I can never ever repay her in kind but I know there’s some way that I can and will do it. The nights are the worst when it gets so quiet here and cozy and lovely though I have made up my room to be, it’s not the same really. Next door/room lives a cousin and I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he has no interest in getting to know me. He is content with no words passing between us. It serves to highlight my isolation really. I wish he wasn’t staying here, so it’s out of mind. I mean we are literally siblings and it just makes me miss everyone back home terribly.

That being said, it’s my problem and best way to deal with it is to not think about it.  And for the most part it is easy.

I guess I’m only feelin’ this way cuz my sister’s not online..and I wonder if she doesn’t miss talking to me… I am very possible dramatising the entire thing and she must be occupied or using the time to sleep, given mum’s shift. Even so… heh. This so is not me. And yet it is.

25-years-old really does strange things to a person’s mind. Must be on my guard.

_______________________________________________________

 

Magic of 6′ 1″ (3 bloody 15 am)

Mini cellular explosions are all over me.
Soon as I think of you all around me.

You draw me in and the explosions converge
and I am on fire.

I hear your heartbeat and breathe
into it whispers.

No space in our embrace
but you find a way;
closer.

Next to the throb in your neck
I burrow and breathe in;
off my feet.

All around me is you.
My smile on your skin.
Your strength on mine.

 and now I’m finally sleepy enough to hit the sack. Something about ending a poem (or my version of it that is. heh.) that gets me so sleepy each damn time.