Leaving...

one of my favourite movies of all time is GIA. The beautiful, tragic, touching story of Gia.
The first time I watched it, I resonated with what she said about people leaving....ten years later, the same line still stands out.

'WHERE ARE YOU GOING, PEOPLE ARE ALWAYS LEAVING, WHERE THE FUCK DO PEOPLE GO' Gia shouts as yet another person in her life says they have to leave. I feel like this today. People are always leaving. Is it better to be better off alone, than to let someone in, only for them to have to leave again...I am not so sure.

One of You is Lying

By the time you swear you're his,

Shivering and sighing,

And he vows his passion is

Infinite, undying -

Lady, make a note of this:

One of you is lying. 

Dorothy Parker

ME

I wake up in the middle of another night, gasping for air, my chest closing in on me. I am trying to breath, yet I cannot. I close my eyes and try to sleep, try to forget, yet my mind is awake. My room feels so large at night, it feel so big, so empty. Yet, it is too small for anyone else but me. Sometimes i feel like I am drowning in my own skin, suffocating, losing me in me.

If the sadness is to leave something needs to be done. Things need to change. Walls need to be broken down, smashed to a billion pieces. The past needs to die. I need to live. 

Tick Tock Tick Tock

 

Time - it has a way of constantly moving forward - even when we don't want it to. Even when we're not ready for it's hand to strike the next number, it does. It doesn't wait for anyone, not for you and certainly not for me.

It forces us to grow up. It forces us into a life we are not one hundred percent sure we really want.

I woke up this morning and strangely found my soul longing for a time long gone. A time when I was just a young adolescent. Free from the pressures of life, responsibility and finance. Anchored in security. Because there's a certain type of security that comes with being a 13 year old, a consistency that feels like home. 

You wake up everyday to spend 6 hours with your bestfriends - you catch the same bus that does the same route morning and night with the same bus driver. Your friends get on and off at the same stops. Your friends are steadfast, your timetable secure, life for the next six years is bliss. It's stable, secure and filled to the brim with steadfast love.

Fast forward ten years, you have rent to pay, marriage to secure before a certain age, time to have children - because that biological click is ticking, a failing economy - job instability, debt, friends moving away, last minute let downs and cancellations - because now everyone has their own timetable and their own life - and they dont have to be at school by the ring of the bell and you don't all meet at 8-11-1-3pm everyday. And, your parents are aging and you know no one lives forever, your siblings have moved out of home and you miss them. No more watching movies and eating dinner by the fire - all together, as one.  Nothing is the same anymore. 

Suddenly you feel so lost - lost and alone and like you're losing your grasp on reality and time and nothing is secure or fulfilling or worth it. Not even your partner, because really, they too aren't really yours and marriage vows to most these days are forever  changing and you can wake up one day to find that he has skipped the country with his / her assistant. It's frightening. It's lonely - its unstable. You are always longing, longing for a time, a time when everything was pure, perfect and secure. A time when life was planned out for you and all you had to do was turn up. I miss my past. I miss my old life. It's now A time long gone.

Where Art Thou LOVE?

Does true love exist? I mean really exist? Not the unrequited 'I am in love with you but you don't know i exist' kind of love,

but the equally, intoxicating, consuming, passionate, fiery kind of love. 

The love where two people love each other equally and both more than the other? 

The Romeo and Juliet - nothing, not even family ties and history can stop me from loving you - kind of love.I would die for you and you for me....love.

The Notebook, kind of love- where people don't give up on each other...They're pulled away, apart, reunited and consumed by each other? Does that exist?

What about Candy? That intoxicating, tormented and tortured love...that just draws them together and overpowers them both.

I'm curious. Does the magical unexplainable love really occur? And most importantly, is it real? Or am I living in a place of aliens and ufo's and starships and real love is just as possible and rare as these objects? 

A fantasy, an ideal, a dream.,, something that takes me away from reality for no more than a moment? It let's me float above the clouds for a day only for me to land flat on my face, be startled awake and realise....it was all just a dream, and, in reality nothing is as perfect as the love in our imagination.

Love Story – Nikolay Biryukov’s latest editorial for the September issue of Elle Ukraine features models Sam Rollinson (Select London) and Ondrey (Independent Men Milano) as stylish love birds 60s cinema 

Heart...

Everything is different now...and she wants to runaway to some place far, far away from familiar faces, sounds and surroundings.

She may think a change of scenery is just what she needs to escape...running away seems like the answer, the scenery changes, the people are new and exciting, everything feels fresh again...but it's not long before she realises, the darkness...it followed her....it came along univited and it's here to dance on her heart.

This isn't tumblr...but today these images reflect the colour of my heart....

NYC Nostalgia

September is my favourite month in the whole year. Especially in NYC, it's that time when the heat is starting to fade away, the sun is out and there is a sweet warmth in the air but not unbearable hotness...like August.

My heart is drowning in nostalgia as I sit in Starbucks, Circular Quay, sipping on my iced latte...I am dreaming of being in Starbucks NYC, near 51st and 7th....watching all the unique characters pass me by...some look like they're from another era, other another life, another world....others look just like me....or someone I know....

I remember when I was in NYC, I would often sit in Starbucks, watching people, thinking about their world, where they have come from, where they are going, what they're thinking right this minute. The scars they're carrying, the memories, the haunts of the past and the delights of their present....the love they've experienced, the loss, the heartache, the adventures, their highs and lows, they're likes and dislikes.

Everyone has a story and every story is as touching, beautiful and tormenting as the next and all so valuable. There's beauty in everyone's ashes....Right now, I want to know everyone's story. I want to sit in Starbucks sipping my iced latte, picking on my buttered banana bread, against the buzzing backdrop of NYC, and listen...just be still and listen to ...everyone's story.

Tell me your story....my mind, body and soul craves for it.

He had but one consolation, that she had loved him....and that perhaps, wherever she now was, in whatever undiscoverable place, she loved him still....Sometimes, in those unaccountable moments known to every lover, when the hearts feels a strange stirring of delight, although there is no cause for anything but grief, he reflected: It is her thoughts that are reaching me....And perhaps my thoughts are reaching her...Fancies such as these which an instant later he brushed aside, nevertheless sufficed to kindle a glow in him which was something near to hope. - Victor Hugo

Beautiful, Eerie and Familiar all at Once

This was written for you.....this blog is just divine http://www.iwrotethisforyou.me/

My words couldn't do this incredible blog justice.

There's a video and a book.

 Here's an Excerpt

Dear You,

You are holding in your hands what was promised to you years ago. I’m sorry it took so long. But life, as is so often the case, is life and we forget about the promises we’ve made.

You, however, are harder to forget.

I know the world is crazy. I know love is not always the way it’s meant to be. I know sometimes, things hurt. But I also know that we’ll get through this. That our hearts will arrive on the other side, in one piece. That everything is beautiful, if we give it the chance to be.

I’ve tried to write down what I saw and what you told me and I sincerely don’t think I missed anything. Let me know if I have.

I love you. I miss you.

Me 

Runaway with me...

'There's warning signs all over him. Not tiny little flags that you can swim around, but CLEAR, BOLD, BRIGHT RED - DO NOT ENTER - DANGEROUS - CAUTION.....stuck all over him.

'What are you drinking?' he asks

'I am not drinking tonight' I respond. I look at his chiseled jaw line. His tanned olive skin, his strong sculptured body, his porcelain white teeth......
'Can I get you a soft drink then? Water?.... anything?' he asks
'No...thank you..I am good' I answer with a warm smile.
Wait...you MUST try the truffle crepes. They are to die for' He raises his sculptured arm and signals the waiter,
'Bring this young woman some truffle crepes please'
'I've already had dessert', I plead.
'BUT..you haven’t had the crepes…. just a spoonful... You don't have to eat them all, but you MUST at the very least, try them'

Before I can utter another word, the crepes are sitting before me - And a tiny part of me likes not having to struggle with my indecisiveness for once. I've been tossing up whether to order the crepes all night and decided on a hot chocolate instead, and....to be frank, it was not satisfying.

'They look divine' I say scooping up some chocolate truffle sauce with my fork
------'o-h-w-o-w!' I pause - 'They're heavenly!'
'I told you, you would enjoy them' he smirks knowingly.

Damm that confidence, that charisma....it’s empowering and addictive and comforting'

I continue to scoop up the sauce with my fork and knife, struggling to cut the crepes, it's doughy and difficult, secretly wanting to just use my fingers to eat them.....I have always had a problem being civil with a knife and fork, I butcher my food instead of gracefully cutting and eating it like a proper lady should.

'HERE' he leans forward and takes the knife and fork from my hand, 'let me do this'...he smiles and winks as he takes the knife and fork from my hands, brushing his fingers against mine, he moves the plate towards him....I breath a sign of relief. But for some strange reason, I don't feel embarrassed by my weakness, nor am I conscious about the the way I was eating… I don't feel the need to impress him, part of me, doesn't want to, for I know if I do...It could open doors..doors, I am not so sure I would have the strength to close.

'You're like a child, I'll have to cut them into tiny pieces for you before you make a mess of yourself'; he says not breaking eye contact.

'look!!! He says touching my hand and then slowly moving his hands up to the bottom of my long blonde hair strands... ....you have truffle sauce all over your fingers, hands and hair, how'd you manage to make such a mess in less than five minutes?!' he smirks

Words aren't flowing, I am losing control - I can feel it. I'm mesmerized by this man, his arrogance masked by his charisma, his danger hidden behind his friendly smile and dazzling good looks. I know I am in dangerous territory.

What is happening to me. He is not anything I would ever CONSCIOUSLY allow to mesmerize me like this…yet….I am….I watch him closely as he cuts the crepes into small edible pieces, I can't help but admire him, there's something...something all too familiar about this man...something that I could allow myself to get drawn into.... without even trying to fight back......

He holds the knife and fork so delicately yet with such precision, like he is carving a statue out of glass.... his hands are softer and more manicured than my own. So polished, so delicate, so clean... I bet they're soft......

I look down at my chipped black nail polish, my peeling cuticles. Suddenly for the first time this evening I wish I had worn make up. I curl my fingers into a ball and start chewing on the nail of my thumb, hiding away the evidence of shabby, un-moisturized hands....

'There you go, now you can enjoy them properly' he says pushing the plate of chocolate covered cooked dough before me....and carefully placing the knife and fork on the side of the plate.

The waiter is at my side again - 'Any drinks for you ma'am?' Holding his notepad and pen in hand.

'Just some water - thank you' I answer with a polite smile

'Bottled, not that tap shit' he adds as the waiter starts to walk away but swiftly turns around and nods his head in agreement.
'Can’t help yourself, can you? I say shaking my head
'What...ordering for you?' he laughs
'No, changing my order,...clearly, I actually placed the order myself' I add sharply.
'Why drink tap water when you have the option of filtered?' - he says, raising his eyebrows ‘ I hate tap water’
‘Well….just as well you’re NOT THE ONE drinking it – and because I WANT tap water, is that not a good enough reason' - I snap.

He shakes his head in defeat or surrender - it's hard to tell......he looks away and signals the waiter- I see the waiter excuse himself from the couple who are obviously in the middle of placing their order – he comes rushing over.,,,, that power -
 he exudes power...I've always had a weakness for powerful men...the type that can sell ice to eskimos, they exude charisma, charm and danger all at once. So good yet so bad.

'Give her tap water; she wants tap water’ 


'please' I add looking up at the waiter and smiling.
'Yes sir- 
ma-am' the waiter says as he scurries off.
'Oh manners, you seem to forget them' I say
'I am slightly distracted granting your wish of tap water madam'  he says with a smile
'It would be nice if every single one of my wishes got granted - just like that.
' I look at him,
'What is it that you want and can't have?' he asks 

'Nothing but everything... The complexity which is my mind never knows what it wants'

'I can tell - which is why I ordered the crepes that you didn't want and have almost finished'...he smiles - that knowing smile.

 That pull, like a rip in the ocean... it has the potential to drown you in one second...yet the you enjoy the adrenalin that comes with swimming in such strong waters...the challenge...to survive. Fuck!! I want to slap myself. I am flirting with danger, I need to stop, yet I can’t….I am captivated.

I pick at a piece of diced crepe as I ask him questions about himself.

'Psychologist? He asks

'In training....' I add

'How did you know?' I look up and am genuinely puzzled.

'Your questions are very inquisitive - yet calculated... Only someone who has a map around the mind knows to ask such questions.......You know the answers, yet you ask the questions....very....interesting......'

I know by the way he's looking at me when he speaks, the hand gestures, he knows I'm slightly intrigued, more than intrigued....my eyes speak a thousands words and right now, they have given me away...

He pulls his chair away as his phone rings, his hands slide down his thighs and my eyes follow - expressing every thought wandering loosely through my mind.
Shit! WHAT THE FUCK am I doing?! What is wrong with me?! Why am I behaving like I am under a spell. I feel like I am under a spell ---- his spell. A puppet whose strings are being pulled, I am dancing to his tune, unable to stop myself....
I take a deep breath - trying to distract myself from the thoughts that are running through my pure mind....the thoughts that really don't belong there

My mind is saying no, leave now, stop playing with fire, you know how that game ends all too well..,

Yet my feet are firmly planted on the ground. The soles of my shoes super glued to the wooden floorboards beneath me. I am mesmerized. Too mesmerized to move. I am enjoying this game.

The night continues, we laugh, we talk, we ask questions, everything so fitting, time is not of essence, everything... so comfortable, he is utter perfection, from his dazzling charm, good looks, to his incredibly defined strong body, legs and arms but..he's laced with a ticking explosive bomb.... hidden behind this pretty, dazzling fascade.

I know myself too well, I know how easily I could fit into his lifestyle. And for a split second I start day-dreaming, I go to another place, one where I would like to leave with this man and runaway to a beachside home where I will take photos and write all day long. Forgetting this external, superficial world AND living up to its expectations. I would surrender, and say - 'take over, I am done trying to organise and structure my life and figure out where I am meant to be in this world and what I am meant to be doing.....just like the crepes and the ordering and the cutting up my food, take over and do it for me...

is that weakness?

That for once I don’t want to be the man in the relationship. I don’t want to be the decision maker, the girlfriend, the brains, the bread winner and the organizer of the home. Maybe I have been strong for too long, fought too hard, independence is driving me insane, maybe surrender would be nice for a change, maybe having someone more than capable of taking care of me and more is just what I need? Someone who already has a full life of his own. Someone whose life I can slot into for once and not me have to carry them. And, at the same time someone who will stand up to me and mentally & physically challenge me, there’s nothing more exciting than a man who stands his ground, and knows what he wants and is prepared to fight for it…Yet he knows when to give in all the same. Arrogance and control, yet not dominance. And, his world.....that which is both risky and dangerous. A modern day Bonnie and Clyde.
Runaway with me.....my thoughts run wild...I am again escaping with my imagination but for once, it's not fictional ...it's real and it's standing before me and I have the choice to unravel it..to plunge in...to test the waters...to let them engulf me...to escape. 

But....is it worth it? Giving up everything I have worked so hard for. The fight for my independence only to find out I no longer want it.

I am at war with myself - once again - to stay or to go - I could stay all night – and take the risk of staying longer than one night…staying for a long time. I know how well I’d belong here…yet…..

 Against my every wish, I get up....'I must get going, it's well past 1am' I say

He nods -

He doesn't ask when and if he will see me again, he doesn't ask to call me, he just says it was a lovely night - have a good night.

And... I walk away - reluctantly - a part of me grateful for that inner wrought iron strength that does what it knows it should, not what it wants, another part of me wanting to have given into desire - for once - wanting to have disconnected from reality for a short while, the two sides of me once again conflicting.

He was right about one thing - I sure as hell don't know what I want...

He is heaven and he is hell –

He is the morning sun and the dark knight

He is peace and he is fire all rolled into one

he is definitely not what I need

Yet he's everything I desire.

The end.

And I start to play out in my mind what life would be like with him - it would so so far from functional and maybe that's what has drawn me to him. ...Maybe functional scares me. Deep down functional is what I want but maybe somewhere I have started believing that I can't do functional so I don't even try... Maybe I try too hard and fail and just retreat to what I once knew. Maybe I don't want a future with him - maybe I just want to fill a void.