One Day

What is one day?

Sometimes it can feel as if a whole year has past in the space of a single day, and for me tomorrow is that day. We put so much emphasis on getting old, but is it really that bad. Are you happy? Does your life have purpose? Have you left a mark on the world? Will people miss you when you're gone?
All these questions are true of everyone, whether they know it or not, everyone leaves a mark the only thing that varies is the size of that mark. Everyone has been happy at least once in their life, it may have been fleeting, but it was there. Will people miss you? Even your enemies miss you, and the people that find your rotting corpse will know doubt have that visual mess embedded in their heads for life. Does your life have purpose? This is perhaps the most complicated question of them all, for what is purpose? It can't be easily defined because it varies from individual to individual. But simply put, if you really felt you had no purpose at all, you would have off'd yourself along time ago, and remember people, even friendship is a purpose.

So wish me well on my birthday tomorrow, I turn 27 and I may not be moving mountains, but I'm headed in the right direction.

Mapping the World

When we are born we know of no location, then as we grow we start to identify places. We map the layout of our house, we map the layout of our grandparents house. Thus we begin to acquire a collection of small maps in our mind. Each one is in no way connected to another, that will come later. As time goes by we learn roads, only the main ones at first, but then you branch out and learn some side streets as well.
And so it is that your expanse of the world grows with the map in your head. Two maps become one when you can plot the course between them. But still several maps exist, if you've ever flown anywhere, where you weren't the pilot, you may know the general location of this new map but you can't connect to any of your others.
Not everyone expands their maps beyond the necessity, but most do. So as you grow so too does your knowledge of your surroundings. Occasionally when I'm driving to university or somewhere similar I'll pass a street, the same street I've passed a million times before, and a visual map will appear in my head. It will have the turn off for that street coming off the one I'm on but then there will be a blank space. That section of my map is still uncharted. I've connected my maps around it but never explored the area in it's entirety. I contemplate turning down those streets, they are the parts of my map that are missing, the choices in my life that I never took. If every choice was as easy as turning down a street I'd imagine we'd have the whole globe mapped. Life is like mapping. You chart your course and set sail. When I look at those streets that I know the names of but don't really know they allow me to realize that although I've never traveled them, the roads still exist if I should ever change my mind, anything is possible you need only take a different route.
We may not be great, we may not go far, but we are all map makers and we chart our own course. Charting our way to the stars.

Real?

As I sat on the plane and stared out the window I could make out the shape of Sydney in the fog. Easily distinguished by centrepoint looming over the other buildings. It felt as though I was coming out of a dream, still tired. Did that week and a half really happen or did I never leave the runway? I walked through the terminal, no people, not even at the baggage checkin, I did not find many until I reached the train platform.
I know it was real, I'm sick from it. It must have been real, I have a poster with me. The flights had to be real, I've got Quantas' morning tea menu imprinted in my head for life... Nice apples. I know it was real, but being back here where time doesn't stand still, it's hard to believe such a wonderful place exists even when I've seen it with my own eyes. Despite the cold, despite the funds, despite the anticipation doubts I wouldn't change a thing.
It is what it is and that's perfect for me.
it's a place where the magical, the mystical, the comical become reality.

It had to be real, if it never happened where the FUCK is my luggage?

22-4-06

Still filled with fear and anxiety
Still all a wonder of curiosity
Still alone in empathy
Still spinning uncontrollably
Still dancing to the memories
Still these things do confuse and frighten me
But now at least I am free

Melbourne

To breath
To feel
To fly
To be free
To live
To live

Tomorrow I go to Melbourne

untitled

Hit me hard so I reach the ground
Cut me so I know I bleed
Hurt me so I know I care
Hold me so I know you care
Leave me so I know I'll survive
Stay so I'll feel safe
Teach me to fly and teach me to fall
Show me how to live and I'll show you how to die
Just be there for me
Hold my hand when I cry

Mortality

I was watching tv the night when they announced that Gene Pitney was dead at 65. I loved his music.

Most of the time I live life in a fantasy world where we all live forever, things like this bring me back to reality. It's hard to think that if you live a long life you will have to live through all your friends dying around you.

I was once asked if I wanted to be imortal, even back then I knew the answer. I wouldn't be able to take the pain of it.