Friday, December 01, 2006

trying not to bounce

Wow. Sometimes really simple things are beautiful. And there's nuthin like crisp sheets and brittle wind, like sun on your face and 5 dollars in your hand as you skip to the beat of the banana-bread clan. That's why I was a Sucker for Sydney, it was all the little, really simple, things that bit me. And I felt clean and good. Sometimes. Like fresh grass.

You wouldn't know it ... but sometimes I miss Sydney so bad I can taste it.

Keep trying not to forget not to take my life for granted.

That's Sydney up there. One small green square patch of it. Sydney in my heart. 4eva. xx etc etc

But you know what it is - and I've blogged about it before - I miss Sydney. But I dont think that's really it. I miss ME. The me I was in Sydney.

My boarders are preparing for a gals w/end in sydney next year. MyMama is moving down there before the end of this year. And yet, more than ever .... or really, for the first time ever, I just don't want Sydney any more. Sydney never mattered like YOU and YOU and YOU did. So please ... all YOUs ... come to me so we can make other memories in other simple and beautiful ways. Like a real-life hug. Like pinching me when I swear. Like laughing when I remember that time, that time and that time. Like crying when I leave. Let me pinch you back. Let you remember me. Let me cry when you leave. And this time let's do it somewhere else. Let's do it in a place that I spring from and not YOU.

And don't think I belong to you. Coz I don't. And I'm still not sure you ever got that - even now. Even now. Do you remember how I was always trying to make my world bigger and me smaller in it? Maybe that's coz your microcosm was already flush with yours. And I was just some rent-a-gal. And just because you forgot that I came from somwhere other, that didn't make me from Sydney. It just meant that everbody forget that ricebag has 432 different sides and all of them make her belong and all of them make her alien. And how I know you are alien too is when you make what is mine yours. And none of you have ever done that the way strangers from my travels have. Maybe it's easier to fall in love with something transient and even to belong to that, than it is to something you see every day in a way that means you don't see at all.

Anyway. Whatever the blech and the blah, there is absolutely nothing blech or blah about Sydney. Love your guts!! But like a long lost lover, I think I have to let you go. Coz it wasn't all sunshine and roses. Lots of passion in the past absolutely dammit positively sure ... but not a lot of future innit it's sad to say.

But I can't forget the beauty. The old-man pubs. The energy. The shade. The heels and champers on a sun-dial lawn with croquet at 12 and debauchery soon therafter. Hallowed and hailed. Loads of pretty girls and even some pretty boys too. Sand in the shower and night drives to the shore. I'd like to think I gave as good as I got. But I'm sure that's not true.


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