An Analogy

- It's like acne or a diseased, stray animal or something. I just want to kick it in the ribs and have it die so that it'll quit following me around and I can move on without it -


Was talking to A. just now. Came up with an analogy for my ridiculous liking-of-HPguy situation that's coming up to its 1.5 year anniversary. Decided to record it here just for kicks. And just in advance, come tomorrow evening I'll most likely have yet another mortifying event to pencil into my personal history. Oh well. It might take time, but in the end we regret what we didn't do more than what we did. So I guess that ultimately I'd rather know that I put myself out there than wonder why I didn't step up when I could've. In light of recent events, I suppose that I want to avoid regretting inaction [in regards to people, at least. Can't say my studies are benefiting much from this new leaf].

And anyway. Practice makes perfect. One of these days it's going to work out. It won't be tomorrow, but someday.

A Moment, A Love, A Dream, A Laugh, A Kiss, A Cry, Our Rights, Our Wrongs.

He's gone. And I cried for the first time I can remember in a situation like this. Apparently he was peaceful, and it was over quickly. Which is as much as anyone could have hoped for given his difficult circumstance.

But I'm sorry for all those days I slept in and didn't spend enough time visiting. I'm sorry we never got to share one of those beers that the nurses let Nan sneak in to the hospital room. And I'm sorry that I didn't go with mum this morning to visit, even though I could have.

Could have, would have, should have.

I'll miss him. Everyone will.

Big Girls Don't Cry

It's one of the worst things in the world to see a parent cry. Maybe it's because our whole lives, we as children got so used to being the ones shedding the tears, and having our parents pat us on the back and tell us that it's all okay, really. So when it's our turn to provide some form of comfort, we're not entirely sure how to adequately reciprocate. It's okay with peers. With friends, usually it's a matter of going to buy hot chocolate, giving hugs, lending and ear and, if applicable and appropriate, offering thorough verbally abuse of the person or people who caused the problems to try and get a smile. But it's not quite the same with an adult. And anyway, this isn't something that can be made marginally better by humor.

Nobody close to me has ever died. But I was around when dad lost both of his parents, and just today I found out that my mum doesn't expect my grandad to even make it to next Friday. I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like. When I was little, I used to have nightmares about my parents dying. But I'm sure that not even the worst nightmares can compare to the actual thing, when there's no chance of waking up and knowing that none of it was real.

I have no idea what Pop's thinking. They have him so drugged up that half the time it doesn't appear that he even knows what he's saying. Sometimes he can't even get the words out, and apparently today he couldn't even find the energy to eat. He hasn't been able to walk for over a month, has his bladder connected to a bag, can't pick up a fork to feed himself. Actually, I hope he's really out of it. That way, he can't be upset about the way things are. But he'd be the only one. Watching Nan is actually heartbreaking, and in a way, as far as pain goes, she has it worse than pop does. Imagine being by the side of your husband of over 50 years, watching him slip further and further away, and knowing that there is absolutely nothing that you can do to help him get better. I can't even begin to comprehend.

The other day he asked Nan, "when are we going home?". And I felt like I was going to cry. I don't know whether he'll make it that long, but if he does, I swear that as soon as my exams are done, I'll drive the six hours to Tumut and take photos and pick up some things to bring back. He might not even recognize anything by then, but at least it'll be there.

If there is a god, where the fuck is it?

Ground Zero

So after a string of bullshit and failure, I'm reverting temporarily to my zero-expectations policy. In theory, zero expectation means zero disappointment, which would be nice for a while. So that's how it's going to be. I'm so tired of putting myself through hell for absolutely no good reason whatsoever.

"Pools of sorrow, Waves of Joy are Drifting Through My Opened Mind"

I realized today that at some point in the near future, I have to start thinking about the next stage in my life; where I'm going to go, what I'm going to do... it scares me a little, not because of the fact that I'll be starting something new... it's more the idea that there are so many possibilities. We're spoilt for choice, really. So much to do and never enough time.

All I know is that after I graduate, I'm getting the hell out of Australia for a while. Taking the midnight train going anywhere. One possibility that is growing increasingly attractive is moving to America for a while. Change of scenery, but not so much so that I'd feel entirely uncomfortable and out of my depth, yet still different enough to be entirely appreciated. Maybe I'll do a part-time post grad and work at the same time.

I'm not determined about a lot of things because I'm so goddamn lazy, but the one thing I really, really want is to not be stuck in Sydney forever. The prospect of doing that is just... well, it sucks, pretty much. It's not that I don't like Sydney, because for the most part I do, and it's where I've spent the majority of my life to date, but... I really want to go places and try new things, and not stay in one place until I'm too old to care what else is out there. Because what if I get older, and by the time I hit 30 I don't want to travel any more? I figure I should do what I can while I can.

Which reminds me. I should probably do my stupid poster [yes, a POSTER. In UNIVERSITY] for language acquisition that's due tomorrow. Sigh. I swear, when this semester finishes I will be researching American universities like there's nothing else on earth.