Greatest Hits

Recalling the past is a difficult and dangerous thing. It can bring back some terrible memories, blurred on the edge of nightmare and reality. Sometimes, the past is the only thing holding you back, preventing you from going where you want to go, stopping you from never saying never.

But sometimes, on your darkest day or your coldest night, memories are all you have. When I think about the past, about my sorry excuse for a life, it's ever so difficult to pick the best moments. My greatest hits. I wonder what I will see if my life ever flashes before my eyes?

I think back to year 7 camp at the cricket ground, and running the Christmas Island marathon with some of my closest friends. I'm sleeping out under the stars at Dolly Beach, damming the fresh water streams and listening to the waves crash against the rocks, and watching the massive mother turtles struggle against all odds up the beach to lay their eggs. I see me performing with my best mate Sione in the 2003 circus, and acting in the play Karaoke Kristmas, getting to play out some of the most monumental moments in Christmas Island's fascinating history.

I'll never forget the geography trip to Northam eating one of Mr. Carters famous curry pies at Bakers Hill, and going to Cott beach on a hot summers afternoon to celebrate finishing our last ever TEE exam. And graduation night, and Leavers, which was an absolute blast sleeping on the beach (illegally), and scrambling around the Leavers party trying to find anyone who resembled a friend!

And then I come to my time at uni. By a long, long way the best two and a half years of my life! Not just because of the epic Tav sessions or the parties, or rocking out to Dan's guitar, or $4 pasta Wednesdays, but the little things as well. Like sitting in the common room waiting for the Cell Biology lecture in the random shed, spending countless hours watching Transformers, Indiana Jones and Once; the movie with not nearly enough explosions. There's swimming in my undies at Leighton Beach with Alex and a whole bunch of random people I had only just met, and that field trip to Harry Waring Marsupial Reserve (and the crazy dataset that ensued!). I think about waiting with Lina for what seemed like hours in the cue for the toilets at Oktoberfest, and being one of the founding members of the CEBC, and getting out of a cab with Cass in god-knows-where, falling into a prickle patch and somehow making it back to Nicola's house alive. 

Of course, there are other memories, almost 20 years worth in fact, which all could pass through my brain the moment I die; dodging crabs on my bike on CI, Silly Softball, my first girlfriend, watching Sachin Tendulkar bat at the WACA, crying after Australia got knocked out of the 2006 world cup, random tree climbing, Hank-Anthony moments, chasing the elusive stingray with Vince and Max, epic 5-way chain-spoons and many, many more.

Looking back on the past is a difficult thing, but it is also a wonderful thing. Writing this post has made me feel quite up-beat, and emotional, in a good way. So I encourage you, dear reader, to get out a piece of paper and scribble down some of your favourite memories, you might feel better for it! 

What are your greatest hits?

Empty

It's so difficult to describe the way I'm feeling right now. I've been feeling this way for weeks. The closest thing that comes to mind is empty. It's like there is an invisible parasite sucking the life out of me; the energy, the care, the laughter.

There's no discernible reason as to why I am feeling this way. Like a tropical island fantasy (hammock and palm trees aside) life is warm, breezy, and protected. I have an awesome family and the most beautiful friends. I try to sit back and enjoy life, I really do. But no matter what I do, where I go, who I'm with, I can't seem to shake this feeling of emptiness.

Life is just so absurdly boring at home. I look around at the hollow faces in my posters, watching me with their blank stares; sometimes I swear they are mocking me. I actually go into uni, even on days when I don't have classes, and I sit around in the common room, and pray that someone walks through that door. Good things happen at uni. There are people there that can make me feel better, make me feel alive again. Albeit briefly.

And all of it makes me feel so tired and drained, but I just can't sleep. I toss and turn and sweat. I wake up constantly through the night. I haven't had a good nights sleep in days and days. There's something wrong, something haunting the subliminals of my mind. That I do know. I also know that someday soon the emptiness will go away. Inevitably, someone will burst in that door exorcise me of this horrible feeling, something will happen which will help me find my direction.

It's just waiting for the inevitability which is the hardest part.

Missing Lost

I hope my friends appreciate what I do for them.

I hadn't missed an episode of Lost since season 3, episode 19: The Brig, until last night. It's now 9 episodes into season 6. That's 37 episodes in a row. I don't know if my friends can truly fathom how much it hurts me to not be in front of a TV at 8:30 on a Wednesday night. What have they turned me into?

There are only 9 episodes of Lost left for heavens sake. Nine. In nine weeks time my life will be ripped from under my feet and I will be dropped back into the real world like a piece of trash. My heart will be torn into millions of tiny little pieces, and each of those pieces will stabbed with a blunt and rusty object. I'm never going to be able to witness a TV epic anything like this ever again. And yet I'm going out on a Wednesday night for what, half price cocktails? Please. 

Every time I took my phone out of my pocket and looked at the time, my heart jerked. Butterflies filled my guts. 8:42. It's already started! 9:15. Shit, I've missed it! 10:30. There's still enough time, if I take the next train, to catch the encore screening! I had to take some pretty deep breaths to stop myself from running for that door. Maybe a couple of years a go I would have. Maybe with some lesser friends I would have.

But you know what? I had the time of my pathetic little life last night. And this time I wasn't sitting on the edge of my seat in front of the TV, sweating on the outrageous cliffhanger that was taking place before my eyes, listening to Giacchino thumping through my veins. I actually enjoyed a social situation more than I enjoyed Lost. True, my friends could never replace Lost as my primary form of love and dedication, but I love my friends none the less. I must do, missing Lost and all. 

Hell, I might even miss Lost again next week!