LLlllliiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeesssssssssslllllllll..................... (many dots).....
Hey Journal,
In the same way that a late friend is always late, you must think of me as always hapless. For yet again, in spite of so much travelled water under the bridge, it is the topics of love, self and relationships which lie again at the forefront of things I can't wait to tell you.
It's a blustery and freezing early winter evening in 2013, I travel amongst clans of rescued commuters, on a train that seems to buck and slputter and belch its way up the frozen streets of the sydenham track. Above, The sky is moody, black and quintessentially melbourian... the sort of weather that inspires cups of soup and essendon jerseys everywhere, the kind that is as home here as the sonic manipulator or the tin can drummer who plays along swanston every day.
But it's not today which I want to write about. It's yesterday, and specifically last night - which already feels like one of those most beautiful memories that you'll forever remember. well into when you're white-haired and facing hip problems.
In a sentence: Liesl rocks my world.
She ROCKS MY WORLD!
I'm still not sure how our paths managed to cross the way they have.. nor so quickly.. nor so wonderfully. Wonderful - that is a brilliant adjective for her. I truly think she is. I like everything about her: the way she turns her ankle, the way she jumps two-feet forward into the dorkiest jokes, the way she smells up close, the way she pushes a traffic light button.
And the way she thinks. God how she thinks! I'm forever torn - the want to listen, to digest, divulge, to contemplate and be ever thankful for sharing her outlook on life. I could share with her for hours. And the want to interrupt and kiss her. When she ponders - that's when I want her the most.
I miss her enormously when I'm not with her, which In a way I adore... because it reminds me that I am human and that I feel things.
Daphnis and Chloe. Abalard and Heloise. Tristan and Isolde. What. the hell.
=)
In the same way that a late friend is always late, you must think of me as always hapless. For yet again, in spite of so much travelled water under the bridge, it is the topics of love, self and relationships which lie again at the forefront of things I can't wait to tell you.
It's a blustery and freezing early winter evening in 2013, I travel amongst clans of rescued commuters, on a train that seems to buck and slputter and belch its way up the frozen streets of the sydenham track. Above, The sky is moody, black and quintessentially melbourian... the sort of weather that inspires cups of soup and essendon jerseys everywhere, the kind that is as home here as the sonic manipulator or the tin can drummer who plays along swanston every day.
But it's not today which I want to write about. It's yesterday, and specifically last night - which already feels like one of those most beautiful memories that you'll forever remember. well into when you're white-haired and facing hip problems.
In a sentence: Liesl rocks my world.
She ROCKS MY WORLD!
I'm still not sure how our paths managed to cross the way they have.. nor so quickly.. nor so wonderfully. Wonderful - that is a brilliant adjective for her. I truly think she is. I like everything about her: the way she turns her ankle, the way she jumps two-feet forward into the dorkiest jokes, the way she smells up close, the way she pushes a traffic light button.
And the way she thinks. God how she thinks! I'm forever torn - the want to listen, to digest, divulge, to contemplate and be ever thankful for sharing her outlook on life. I could share with her for hours. And the want to interrupt and kiss her. When she ponders - that's when I want her the most.
I miss her enormously when I'm not with her, which In a way I adore... because it reminds me that I am human and that I feel things.
Daphnis and Chloe. Abalard and Heloise. Tristan and Isolde. What. the hell.
=)