conclussion of the heart

i'm gone. i've given it. the one thing that is truly mine to give. something no one can give outside of consent.

my heart is new zealand.

he is all i hoped and all i dreamed. and i am lovers fool.

i dream about a boy i met for 20 minutes, twice. i watch him on youtube, and re-read his emails a thousand times in between the next. i hold my breath that each email will include an initation for phone calls, and went weak at the knees when i recieved a NZ holiday invitation.

but how much longer can one hold their breath with a heart that beats against the walls of the chest in desperation. i feel that if i were to stand before him, it would pound out of my chest and into his arms.

The plight of the forgotten

Sometimes I'm afraid of the darkness. the night conceals too much. but it doesn't numb the lonely.

do you ever breathe, yet your lungs remain empty and void?

the song on my lips is dry, the bird at my window flown south
and i can't remember the tune it used to hum.

friends, yes, they can be our truest source of who we are, and our value. yet they can sting at the core of our being and create doubt and misunderstanding in our minds.
i continually chose friends who are stronger than i. and they continually break my heart.
two of my best friends are so distant and silent it feels like the whole world has turned away with only a back to comfort my pain.

i keep me private and only exposed to the closest of companions. and while i am still single and yet to discover companionship, i allow fragments of my heart to be heard by these two girls, sisters i chose myself.

i am discovering that, like in high school, guys do come and go. they walk in and out according to their whims and desires, and pecker. one day, one will stay around, and pursue me longer than coffee. but until then, i have no one but my friends.

loneliness. it embodies a sphere and spectrum much greater than we give reference or credit to. in its essence, it is an oxymoron, for in loneliness, everyone sits at one point. so why is, that while unified by this common social disposition, that we all find ourselves staring bleakly at each face.

i don't say much. but i watch. and wait. and a silent tear escapes the corner of my eye, bearing the heartbreak beneath the ivory skin of fading summer.

To Be Free

I have been especially bad with my posts lately. I think it's been a few months since I've written anything.

I have been pretending not to 'live here'. To be somewhere else. Somewhere I don't have to acknowledge I still like in the same house as the last 5 years with no money to travel.

Somewhere, where life is more exciting than a movie Friday night, party Saturday night, church Sunday night and the in between filled up by obligations and expectations.

I watched Into The Wild last week. Every time I see it, I desire adventure. I recently made friends with a 'Dare Devil'. He actually kyakked across the Bass Straight in 3 months, and climbs mountains and does expeditions through the Antartic. It creates a longing in me, to hear these stories, for adventure.

As a teenager, I climbed the highest peak in South East Asia, white water raffed the rapids in Thailand, Malaysia, Borneo and Indonesia. Absailed, caved, camped and built houses and orphanages throughout SEA. Those things were 'fulfilling'. They made me believe happiness can be achieved and not something merely learnt through mindset.

I have spent the last 2 years without leaving the country. Cramped at a desk, writing thousands of words a day. Some meaningful to special people, and some on behalf of important and some of no meaning at all. I answer calls, return calls, send messages, see friends, listen to problems, read books, watch movies, laugh and cry, but never really truly feel alive.

I crave adventure. New experience.

We all do. Deap down. When we are truly honest with ourselves. We formulate an excistence around living 'normal' and 'comfortable'. And while it does satisfy us for a time, there is a growing itch and desire for our eyes to lay hold of something new and beautfiul. For our ears to be challenged by a language or mindset we have never heard. Our feet to take the territory far removed from what we already own.

Financial collaps has seen dreams of travel put on hold temporarily. But that is the beauty of dreams. They exist. If only in your mind. But the power of the mind is so forceful it can, with enough determination put legs on the dream and see it run.

I will see the children of Uganda, and the lions of the Safari.

The romance of the Eiffle Tower.

History of the Globe.

Fame of The Hills.

Culture of Soho.

White sands to Croacia.

Sunrise of Tuscany.

The best part? Experiencing God in all these places.

a little piece

i have a confession to make. i have another blog. i tried to make it private, but a few people i know read it, (they found it!) and so i created this one to escape into anonymity.

i don't have a large readership, and i don't follow that many blogs from here, because that all exists on another blog. but i want to develop that more here.

i've decided to write more here. invest more time. i love the 'relationships' that are formed with other bloggers. i love reading about lives, all over the world, in various circumstances. it makes you realise you're world is not the only 'world' that exists.

NZ Boy update: i emailed him (it was still a week since he emailed me) and told him i was planning my trip to Uganda. he apologised profusely for not writing all week, and we're back on the novel-length emails. ya!!!

there is not a lot of substance in this post. i guess i just wanted to share with you my other secret place, and promise more devotion!

may your weekend be sunny and happy

NZ boy still hasn't emailed. it's been a week. did he die? is he in a coma?

i am making excuses.

Princess Reception

i have been looking at my life through rose coloured glasses.

i don't start work till1 everyday, and i finish at 5, on the dot, never a minute more. in the morning i wake up at 10, lie on the beach till 12 and cruise into work in my mini skirt and heels. after work i deliberate between the beach again, or a yoga class.

it's a great life. however, apparently unsustainable. apparently.

daddy says, now i'm 22 and no longer studying (although acting college wasn't exactly hardcore 'study') i need to pay rent. pay-what-now? so maybe i should move out. a town house near the harbour sounds glamorous...until i found out how much they cost. $240/per person a week. between you and me, that's most, almost all, of my pay check.

ok, so push comes to shove...i need to work more....full time? ew!

confession...i like my time. i like sleeping in, and having coffee and croissants at cafe's before work. i love not having responsibility at work. but i'm not all princess. i do run a social justice organisation of volunteers helping street teens, department of housing areas and overseas charities in my spare time. and i'm writing a screen play. did i just redeem myself?

so i'm at work today, (i had to pull myself out of bed for a once of all-dayer) and i'm searching for a job. something serious. or at least somewhere i can look seriously fashionable. i've tried retail, nannying, hospitality, teaching, and now i'm a receptionist. do i need to get more serious and do some more study?

b friends, any suggestions?

in other news, arms is still around, though i think we've decided it's just friend. i haven't heard from NZ boy for nearly a week. that's a record. he's doing another degree which starts today, so maybe that's why. or perhaps, say it with me...
he's just not that into me

love and hugs
x

Battle of the Heart

when summer comes early in winter we call it an indian summer. what about when winter suprises us in the middle of a heat wave? indian winter? on saturday it was so hot i bought another fan and sat in the water. all week i have layerd the scaves and beenies to avoid chill blains.

the weather is more confussing than the boy situation.

arms and i hung out all weekend. during an event we were apart of, he got me lunch, and we sat together under a tree and ate sushi, laughing as we people watched. we had drinks every night after the events, and he begged me to come dancing saturday night. i'd say things were going pretty well.

however, deep down, at the core of my heart, i knew he couldn't be what i wanted him to be. the gentle soft compassionate man i need beside me. a set of eyes that see what i see and don't pull away in fear.

i care about justice and making a difference more than i care about my own life. i will gladly die doing justice. saving children, restoring dignity and unifiyign communities. he doesn't understand that. he thinks i am 'emo' when i cry over the state of the world.

but NZ Boy gets it. we have long emails about our plans to move to africa. dreaming of how to reach out to the homeless in our city. he challenges me and believes in me.

he has also given up a high profile musical career in the states to become a nurse with the intention of moving to africa to help with medical problems. i know what you're thinking....he's Jesus!

this is the man i need and want beside me...but how much of yourself can you give to someone you've had two 10 minute conversations with? i don't know when we'll next hang out since he doesn't tour any more.

i've begun to realise all i thought i wanted in a man, the money, looks, stability, means nothing if they don't care about what i care about. never in my life have i had so much interest from the opposite sex, but it doesn't mean a thing any more.

is it possible i have matured? oh god help me!

love to my b-friends who left comments of advice! i greatly appreciate it!

ex's and oh's

The Boy Factor

i haven't posted for awhile! sorry b-friends!

i try to be poetic, or funny, but today, i'm just not feeling it. i need to muse and release confusion over boys. i bet one of the most blogged about topics is relationships, or lack there of.

here is my dilemma.

for the past week, NZ Boy and I have been emailing each other. we met while he was touring with his band last year, and have been talking sporadically ever since. he's becoming a humanitarian nurse and he has the biggest heart for africa and people in poverty. we talk about the issues of the world and our dreams for making it a better place. we're totally on par with each other and i love that through our emails, he's getting to know my heart and who i am probably better than a lot of my friends here.

but there's always a complication. Arms (because he has amazing arms) and i have been friends for two years. we go out dancing and have dinner all the time. every one of my friends have had a crush on him at one point or another, but i've always remained firm that we are just friends. and then it hit me at church the other day, i like him. as in, i want him and only him. for ever.

which is great. he's amazing, and HOT! but we're Just Friends. he treats me like a little sister. the guys all think Arms likes me, but have we been under a brick the last 5 years? if he's not calling you constantly, and taking you out, and only dating you....say it with me....He's Just Not That Into You.

Between NZ Boy living in New Zealand and Arms seeing me as Just Friends, i'm a little lost. i had finally decided to be single, happily, for three more years. (which means i'd be 25 and ready to 'settle down'.) there's just so much i want to accomplish.

b-friends, what do you suggest? tell Arms? see if things progress further with NZ Boy? or wait it out. see where the pieces fall?

My bowls, the source of every problem in my body, had decided to pack up (literally) and go on a holiday for two weeks, leaving me in pain and praying to the gods of poo for a little release! I tried laxatives, drinking lots of water, coffee, prune juice. I massaged between my thumb joint and the rest of my hand. I tried relaxing my bum muscles. Sitting on the toilet for hours reading. I even tried meditating, envisioning the act. Nothing.

So my last bid effort was a yoga class. I was hoping the relaxation would release something.
I don’t go regularly, although I’ve vowed that I will now, so I’m never quite sure what to expect.

No one really speaks to each other, and everyone else seemed a little more alternative than this blonde bimbo with pink nail polish and a towel to match. I smiled at the other members of the class, and we pretended to be busy warming up to avoid the stifling silence.

Enter Yoga Instructor. A lean man with a shaved head, and protruding bum. He ‘centered’ himself on the floor and began our class, opening with meditation. Many of the moves, he mentioned were good for the bowels. I had come to the right class!

Have you ever been dancing, or running, and you felt a small sound slip out. (Otherwise known as a fart). Imagine having them built up, holding your bum muscles so they don’t pop out, and doing exercises that are meant to release your gluteousmaximus. Not good. At all. There was one move that involved grabbing our feet with our hands, so we were spread eagle, then rolling on our spin, so our feet could touch the floor behind our heads. Oh gosh, I thought, I’m going to explode and have to run out, quite the gym and move house. Luckily, I remained silent! Thank GOD!

To finish off, we umm-ed and ah-ed with our eyes closed and hands placed in our laps, palm up. Suddenly, the sound of a wooden flute fills the room and I sneak an eye open. Yoga Instructor is in some crazy position, playing the recorder with his eyes closed, meditating. I looked around and noticed everyone else was as into it as he was, and I quickly shut mine and tried not to laugh to loudly.

The bowel result? It was simply PMS. Apparently my body holds it all in and then right when the lovely red bird arrives, so does everything else. God of poo has a bizarre sense of humour.

heat

after a summer storm, the water rises in slow streams of steam.
the sun reappears and claims its mantle in the sky
as dark clouds make a fast retreat.

memories are like the summer rain.
they pour down in sudden torrents,
leave the mind remembered,
and quickly leave, almost but not completely invisible.

the longing has been gone for a long time.
the memories i had shut up, shackled deep in the dark places.
i shut out your smell, destroyed the pictures, hid the letter.

but the song could not be forgotten.
it lingers, in cd's. on the radio. in my voice.

these are the scars of the massacresof heart break.

two times the mistake

once upon a long time ago, I was falling in love.

and now, he is no longer in my life.

we don't speak. he doesn't look at me. his wife (yes, wife) glares at me.

it feels like a decade ago, but it was only three years.

and now, perhaps you will call it stupidity, playing with fire, or simply naivety
i am talking with his brother. as in, messaging continually throughout the day.
and i like it.

there i said it.

his younger brother,
who i used to make chocolate chip cookies with
and watched a lot like love with
and flirted with when we first broke up in a bid to make him jealous.

oh let my conscience lead the way
let my common sense be stronger than my stupid-sense.

and let me not walk out with 3rd degree burns to my heart. again.

Butterfly Freedom

She couldn't wipe the smile that was beginning to spread across her face, like a sun swiftly fanning its rays across the desserts' sand.

Today would be different.

Today she would be She.

Nothing left of what was before, she stepped into the on coming light, and felt the evaporation of fear.

Nothing left of what she had forgotten.

Inside the distant memories, was an illusion no one would believe.

Freedom is attained when you stop fighting.

Mistaken Affections

A few months ago, there was a Potential. We'll call him Mr. Suite.

He was everything I could imagine myself with. Tall, had a very good job, was hard working, cared about the same things as me, wanted a Trophy Wife. (That last one, is not to be taken to literally, more in the sense of stay-at-home-mum with the kids).

And apparently I was his 'ideal' girl. Blonde, bubbly, and of course, we care about the same things.

He's only 5 years older than me, but for some reason this was a problem for him. So every time our group hung out, I had to become more mature. Or look like I was having lots of fun. I was always on show for him. And I knew this was stupid.

Have you ever sort-of-dated someone? You both know you're checking each other out, and spending a lot of unnecessary time talking, but never acknowledge why you are. This went on for almost a year. And I fell hard for him.

I would cry if he didn't speak to me when we were out. I couldn't have a normal conversation with people when I knew he was near by. Every beat of my heart, flushed bright red blood through my veins when he as so much walked into the room.

Needless to say, it was pathetic of me.

A long story short, he liked my best friend, who didn't reciprocate, and is dating his friend. And in the process of it all, he found out I liked him.

Now he doesn't want to know me. Conversations that used to last for hours, have been abandoned and I don't even get a hello.

I saw him last night, and tried to make conversation. He looks right through me, embarrassed to be speaking to someone not nearly good enough for his impossibly standards.

Now I understand how it feels to be on American Idol. And be one of the idiots who cant sing. And have everyone tell you, you're not good enough.

And deep in my heart, I know I'm better than that.

So why does this feel so painful!

T.I.M. (This is me)

this year, it feels the same.

and yet lonely.

it feels so far weightless.

yet tied down with thoughts.

i want to fly.

to become & be & own

who i am.how i feel.

all i was meant to be.

i want to

feed the homeless.

hold the sick in my arms.

carry the wounded.

finance the broken.

i want to travel to the

exotic.

glamourous.

unseen.

dangerous.

i want to shine.

on screen.

in magazines.

and stain peoples minds.

i want my words and actions

to be heard

felt

echoed.

to nations

& generations.

just so others feel the pulse of God.

i want to live bigger.

see wider.

achieve longer.

dream into infinity.

i know i can do it.

i know my face and words

are marked for influence.

i know any fame i aquire

will be for justice

& my justice will be for

the grace and love of God.

i eat.

breath.

live.

speak.

justice.