secret: gravity and seriousness

i think it's important to acknowledge change. change is the factor that keeps life moving along. change is inevitable, despite the white-knuckled grip we have sometimes on the present.

i haven't really figured it out yet, but i've set myself up to have time to take the time to consider the myriad of ways that everything about my life just changed. it wasn't even involuntary; i chose this outcome for myself, as many factors as i could control, anyhow.

i wrote myself a brief reflection the other night which goes like this:

          "I had built up this empire of people; these arms and hands, legs and feet all hovering about to meet the needs for 'human' that I had always tried so hard to avoid acknowledging. 

I had built it all up around me and in just over 1 week I lost the bunch. They all up and got left behind by me, and I moved onto some solitude, some deep thoughts and a small amount of bad poetry, relegated to a leather-bound journal where my secrets will be kept.

You think you're a lone wolf, an artist, a philosopher, but take away your empire of those to hear your words and share your oxygen, take away the lover who wakes you up with kisses on the back of your neck, take away your mountains and your sense of how things work and where they go and how they live, take all your empire away and you're really just a person pretending not to care about how lonely they feel."

i've always found that time to reflect helps to keep me sane, and i have craved it from time to time in the past months, but now i realize that people are really what i need. i feel silly for not having come to this realization earlier in my life. i guess what's nice to know, that i know now for sure, is that i have people everywhere. i've even got a bit of people collected in corvallis to be my people until it's time for australia.

and australia- i honestly haven't processed the implications of Going Home yet, beyond the endless creation of a story by way of repetition to all and sundry questioning my plans. i just leapt into a ticket-booked frenzy. all i really know about home is that my mum will be there to collect me from the airport, and that both of us will probably cry. beyond that, very blurred visions of gumtrees and drinking beers with brothers, and a birthday party for dad. 

what i aim to get beyond as i prepare for home is the waiting. for honestly, not one person knows when my love will set foot in australia. a waiting game is only possible when you have a date, and even then, there's the little voice in my warped brain which insists "what if you get hit by a car and the only thing you've been doing for the past 3 months is waiting for aaron to arrive from germany?". i don't want to waste a day. 

wish me luck with that.