There was an elusive quality to my time in Australia. Sometimes I seek to confine it in words - but it escapes - no boundaries, no explanations - just a feeling, a freshness, a coolness inside.
Sometimes I find it too hot here. Oftentimes too dusty. And the noise and the blare, you have to shut it out. There is no place in my silence for all this.
A trip to Blockbuster for an arthouse movie. Or another season of Sex in the City. At home again to make muffins. Albin smiling at me from the sink. Music moving through my little laptop.
Literature to peruse in-depth. What do I think of this? What do I think of that?
Where ideas are important.
Merging.
It was quiet.
Even with the noise it was quiet.
A walk along happy streets.
Lazy smiles.
All of this I had.
All of this was mine.
I was happy, but it was the happiness of knowing there was a fullstop, an end, and beyond that, only more night.
6 comments:
I love these last three entries. They are so atmospheric. I feel like Lauren Becall and Humphrey Bogart. (Both together.)
yeah, they kinda make me want to pet you and give you a bowl of milk.
I feel something similar every time I travel to Key West.
I want to admit that I am as madly in love with the place as I am. But I know it's fleeting, so I hold something back.
Nessa: Thanks. Both together sounds nice.
Threesome anyone?
ES: Hey! I ain't no cat.
HCG: My colleague is researching migration. She sits next to me. She talks about Adelaide. I tell her I love Perth.
I think we've talked about this before, but there's a part of me left behind at Trafalgar Square in London, a part of me I left behind under the Arc in Paris, a part left behind on Las Ramblas in Barcelona.
Ten years down the road, I feel like a husk of myself, going through the drudgery of my normal Everyday.
Yeah, you sort of grow into a scab, a thick crust of skin over a wound, and after a while you come to believe that is real life.
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