The Girl of All the Boys' Dreams

This has nothing to do with me, not anymore.
But it has everything to do with her.
I have, however, been there before, down that very road.
This story doesn't end happily.

I was there, right in the middle of it all. When we were both hurting, he came. The reaper. He was there for her, when she thought nobody else was. He found a door in her defensive walls, and knocked. And knocked. And finally she let him in. She always lets him in.

Another boy is waiting. This boy is breaking her heart, and secretly, his heart is breaking too. But he better not let her get too distant, or he'll loose her. He would be a fool to loose her. But maybe he already has.

She is, after all the girl of all the boys' dreams.

Georgia's House

Every day on my way to work, the train races past Georgia's old house. I still recall vividly the high brick walls and the tall white picket fence-gate; I still remember the lifeless fountain and every step up to her front door. Every day on my way to work, I remember the feeling of happiness; real happiness.

For Georgia's house represents everything about my youthful days, when life was so easy and simple. Georgia's house is the bright blue sky and those scorching summer days; the slop of sunscreen on bare back, and the swishing of towels and the passing of the soccer ball. Georgia's house is those warm summer evenings, and the pouring of vodka and the chinking of beer bottles, and the sound of Alex's guitar late into the night. Georgia's house is the sun and the sand, the lizard-preserving swimming pool and the Red Rooster runs, drunken twister and not looking back in anger, the meeting of new friends and the gathering of old ones.

Georgia's house is everything I've come to miss.

Cliffhanger

I miss this, so much...

Monster

You were my conscience, so solid, now you're like water...

It's drowning me. I can feel it taking over. Creeping up on me, lurking under my pillow. A shadow, and a doubt. I joke about it, but I really am so tired and full of pessimism. I just can't help it anymore.

We started drowning, not like we'd sink any farther...

I don't mean to be. I don't want to be. But I feel myself thinking, writing, saying things that I don't mean. It's strange, because I don't feel angry, or sad or anything like that. I feel absolutely fine, normal. And yet, I don't. I can't read. I can't write. I can't sit and watch, either. My mind strays, and the very things that would usually spring to mind aren't there; the humour, how I miss the humour! Replaced by malevolence and sometimes, in fact a lot of the time, blankness.

I let my heart go, it's somewhere down at the bottom...

I can't even hold a proper conversation anymore. Often, the only thing I can muster, the only thing I feel like mustering, are a series of grunts in reply to a question. I've lost all sense of communication, and relation. I'm a million miles away. And I'm tired, so tired! At the beginning of the year I could go out, I wanted to go out, and stay out, dancing, dancing, until day break. It was a waste of a weekend if I didn't. Now, I can barely make it past midnight before I want someone to drag me home and tuck me into my warm bed. I value every second of the weekend I get to spend in the peace and quiet of my room. Lock the door. Draw the curtains closed.

Don't you ever wonder how we'd survive?

I can feel it taking over. I don't think I can fight for much longer. Not long now; not long until I become a monster.

Now that you're gone, the world is ours...

King's Cross

When I was young, my mother told me, even encouraged me not to read Harry Potter. She believed it was just another bourgeois fad; a profit-minded franchise designed to dry out the piggy banks of children and their parents everywhere. She believed that it would not be any value to our generation, and our society. She was wrong...

The most important thing about Harry Potter to me, is its ability to bring people together; to unite an entire generation under the red and gold of the Gryffindor banner. This was on display for all to see last Tuesday night, when I was lucky enough to see the premier of The Deathly Hallows, part 2, at Carousel. There were wizards, witches, Death Eaters and Dementors, and even Albus Dumbledore himself made an appearance! I really believe that Harry Potter has turned societal stereotypes on their heads; no longer is it considered uncool to be fully clad in wizards robes, and to be wearing a pair of thick round glasses upon your nose. In fact, I think there is a certain amount of respect for Harry Potter fans going around now, and envy by those who missed out on all the fun.

Harry Potter is not just a story about a little boy with a lightning shaped scar and a magic wand. It is an epic tale about courage, friendship and sacrifice. About light and dark, good and evil, and about destiny. And most importanly, it's a tale about love. If I have learned one thing from Harry Potter, it's to never, ever forsake those closest to me; to trust them, to listen to them, love them, and to never take their love for granted...

And if I do this, then I will always have something to live for; to fight for. And when I finally make it to King's Cross Station, be it tomorrow or in 80 years time, I can board one of the trains knowing that I have done all that I possibly could have done to respect the life that was so kindly given to me.

"Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home" - J.K. Rowling.

Because You Left

You know, it's amazing what can happen in a year. It's amazing how significantly things can change. At this time last year, almost a year to the day, I had reached what was probably the lowest point in my life. I still remember, vividly, what it felt like; how much it hurt, and how caught up in it I was. I still remember crying...

It was around that time when I posted "Life's Bluff". July 25th, 2010. The post was a huge emotional spiel indicative of how I was feeling at the time. In it, I said that if I could go back in time to that moment, which I thought was the point in time when everything in my life, everything I had worked so hard for, was taken away from me, that I would change it. I would've told my past-self to act differently...

But you know, the funny thing is, looking back on it now, I would most definitely not go back in time and change what happened that night. You see, the universe has a funny way of "course correcting"... Often, in the moments when you feel the most hurt, when you feel like you've been betrayed, and heartbroken, and shoved off track, you've actually been given a slight nudge into the right direction for the future. Obviously you wont see it at that moment, but in time you'll realise that it was meant to be that way, all along.

I could've named this post many things, like "Course Correction" or "The Right Direction" or "A Year On". But I decided to name it "Because You Left". Because, on that cold night in June of last year, when you left with him out that door, you pushed me into my future. I just didn't know it yet.

The Great Puzzle

"I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is: 'Who in the world am I?'. Ah, now that's the great puzzle!" - Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (Lewis Carroll)

When you're out there, way out there, you begin to learn a thing or two about yourself. As the galaxies shine with so much depth, you realise that there is nothing standing between you and the stars. You start to question whether you really deserve to be the man who stares back at you in the rippled reflections of the flowing river.

Dolly

Oh, what I wouldn't give to be lying in a tent at Dolly! With the coconut fronds rustling in the sea breeze, the waves roaring like lions as they crash over the reef, the pat-pat-pat of rain falling gently on the flysheet...

A Letter From Natalie

This evening I received the most wonderful thing in the mail. It was not a pay check, or a big parcel containing the contents of yet another needless online shopping spree. It was a hand written letter from Natalie.

It's been a tough couple of weeks, at uni, at work, and at home. I was starting to feel trapped in my own routine, treading water, running in circles and not going anywhere. But there's something so beautiful about the letter, whether it be her handwriting or the scribbled out words, or the slanting lines. It's just so real. As I read it, it reinforced in me what I promised I would never let go of, but I fear I was starting to; that the world is a big place, bigger than I can possibly imagine, and it certainly doesn't revolve around me. And there are others out there, who are just as real.

Reading what I just wrote, it sounds a bit silly. But it's the truth. It was something we promised to do after she moved down to Bunbury, write each other. I thought it would be a nice thing to do; I never knew how important it would turn out to be. It's hope incarnate.

And none will hear the postman's knock,
Without a quickening of the heart.
For who can bear himself to be forgotten?
- W.H. Auden

Jump Into the Fog

Where am I? What am I doing here? Is this really where I want to be? I just don't know any more.

Milo's Experts

The expression "Monday's Experts" refers to those people at your workplace or uni, or down at your local pub, who think they know how to run things better than everyone else. For example, they will come up and tell you exactly how and why their football team lost the game on the weekend, and then they will go into incessant detail about how the game should've been won; running you through key moments where players and coaches and umpires should've done this, and should've done that. Most of the time it's all in good fun, but sometimes it can be plain annoying.

Anyway, recently I have noticed that at the place where I work, I seem to get all these Monday's Experts commenting about the way I make my lunchtime cup of Milo. I shrug off the the usual "Chris you're not a kid anymore, make yourself a coffee like a real man". But then there are those who want to get technical...

"Chris, geez that's a shitload of Milo you've got in there" one of my colleagues told me as he peered over my shoulder into the mug, in which I was heaping multiple teaspoons of chocolatey goodness.
"Well it's better than it tasting like plain milk" I said. He swept off, tsking me.

On another occassion, as I was standing at the kitchen bench, stirring my Milo and minding my own business, another one of my workmates prowls around the corner, and poking his face into my mug, with a half-sympathetic, half-amused look on his face, goes: "Maaaate! What you do is you boil the kettle, and use a little hot water to disolve the Milo at the bottom, then you add the milk! That way you don't have to stir it".
I said: "But I like the stuff that floats to the top after I stir it"
And he replied: "That's why you spoon a bit of Milo on top at the end". And he made a funny "duuuuh" noise like some kind of camel, and snickered off.

"Geez" I thought. "Can't a guy make a Milo these days, without someone poking their sticky beak into my mug and handing out smartarse advice?"

What's wrong with stirring, anyway? I find it therapeutic.

The Window

I'm looking through the window, across the place where I call home,
Into a world where life is free of way, but I am so alone,
As one door shuts, a window opens, I see that clearly now,
Yet the path beyond is hazed with grey, I'm afraid make the vow.

I watch the doves, they dance along, the lorikeets above me sing,
The winds through leaves they comfort me, like bells they sound and ring,
The sun it warms my bones and skin, the doves below take flight,
I tilt my head towards the gods, yet cannot see the light.

Am I brave enough to make the leap, and hit the ground below?
Or will I feign and turn away, toward the cold and desolate snow?
Will the life be kind and take me in, it's grasp and on it's ride?
Or will my heart collapse inside, and I take flight and hide?

Still I stand by the window, my head rests on it's sill,
And beyond the real world beckons, it presses my stubbornly will,
The day will come where I must choose my path, forth or turn and run?
Where will I be when I meet my maker, in the land of kingdom come?

The Free East

In between the hopeful silence of the Last Post, the rainbow lorikeets sang. I did not look over my shoulder, towards the cool and free east to watch the sunrise.

I know it's there, it always will be.

Lest we forget.

Familia

The popular sisters, the well dressed scene kid. One with incredible smarts and talent, and another a brewer with the model girlfriend. One joined the army, and of course there was always the better-looking, proactive, and smarter sister. I never quite felt like I really belonged. I could never seem to find common ground, and I could never seem to interest any of them with my affair.

But as life wears on and the rush of time begins to weather you away, through the crevices you start to learn a thing or two about yourself. You learn to gain trust in you, and in what you believe in. The rest comes naturally.

As soon as I found comfort in myself, I found comfort in my family. I am proud of what I have achieved in my life, and I think, finally, I see they are proud of me too. The look on my grandmother's face as she told me I am the first of my generation to graduate from uni, is a look I'll cherish forever. The memory of Ash and I bursting into laughter as we sung "Like a G6" over Christmas dinner is something I will be hard pressed to let go of.

I think I'll always be the outsider, the one that just doesn't have quite as much in common compared to the others. The piece of the puzzle, forced into place where I don't quite fit. But the picture on a whole remains the same, and as long as they're happy to have me, I wouldn't trade them for any other.

To Saint Peter

And when he gets to heaven,
To Saint Peter he will tell,
"One more soldier reporting, sir,
"I've served my time in hell".

Change Afoot

There is change afoot. Well all know it. We all feel it. Earthquakes, tsunamis, floods, fire. Terrorism, cheating and political unrest. The world is crumbling. Revolution is in the air. For all these years we have been mistreating the Earth, taking advantage of the life that was so kindly given to us. And now it is as if the very wrath of God has been set upon us. But:

"tragedy will be a catalyst for good, for change. Out of the ashes, humanity will find a common goal, a united sense of hope, couched in a united sense of fear."

On it's knees, we cannot rely on the planet to continue to suffer our increasingly heavy blows. Change must come soon. But when will there come a leader who will rally the cities, the nations; a world; too unite the people of this good Earth, and begin work towards a common goal? Who will be the one to release the Western powers from the bounds of naivety, and bring the end to the unsustainability of our industry? Who will be the one who steps up, and saves the world?

My thoughts are with you, Japan.

One of Them

You deny them the chance to practice what they preach; yet you preach what you practice, and therefore you become one of them.

You don't realise it, but you are the very thing you despise.

Sooner or Later

Thomas the Apostle. When Jesus wanted to return to Judea, knowing that he would probably be murdered there, Thomas said to the others; “Let us also go there and we might die with him.” But Thomas was not remembered for this bravery. His claim to fame came later when he refuses to acknowledge the resurrection. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. The story goes that he needed to touch Jesus' wounds to be convinced.

— Jack Shephard: “So was he?”
— Ben Linus: “Of course he was. We’re all convinced sooner or later, Jack.”

I'm Gunna Burn Your Name Right Across the Sky...

So I never forget what the feeling's like.

Once

We were young and innocent, most of us not yet old enough to visit the Tav. We didn't have cars or access to computer labs, or money. We had no idea what to do with ourselves during our four hour breaks between lectures on the quiet Friday afternoons. So we sat, squashed onto an old, musty smelling couch in the common room, and we watched...

We watched all sorts of movies, ranging from Transformers to Juno, the Indiana Jones series to The 40 Year Old Virgin. But of all the movies, and all of the times we spent together on that couch, I will always remember the time we watched Once.

Once was one of Georgia's indie movies that none of us had ever heard of. And quite frankly, nothing happens in it. It's about some dude and some chick, who meet in Dublin and make some indie music together. That's pretty much it. There's literally a whole scene in which the chick takes her vacuum cleaner on a bus to a shop to get it repaired...

And as the movie ended, Alex made the comment which basically summed up the movie perfectly: "That movie did not have enough explosions in it"...

Despite Alex's cynicism, Once is a beautiful movie. Little does he know that I have hired it out and watched it on more than one occasion since our days of innocence. And it makes me so emotional every time, because the memories of sitting in that room with those people always come flooding back. Those were some of the best and happiest moments of my life, the kind I expect to see if my life ever flashes before my eyes.

To them, Once is the movie with not nearly enough explosions. To me, it is everything.

Setting Off Nuclear Bombs

If things were somehow different; if I had stepped left instead of right.
If one day I had decided to stay, instead of go out to see the world.
If the path I had been set on was that of someone else.
If I was taught to pray to a God that in this life I don't believe in.
Maybe, in some other life, things could have been so different.

90%

Humidity. Decay. Lightning. Rain,
The sky that lingers along a dark-gray grain,
I close my eyes and begin to feign,
I close my eyes, I'm home again.

The Long Ride Halfway Home

When she left my grasp, after the long ride halfway home, I thought to myself; "that is beauty". What a fascinating, wonderful person.
Her words still ring in my ears...
As I watched her drift away, into the crowed abyss, never knowing if or when or how I would ever know that again, this feeling overwhelmed me. What a wonder my life is! What a pleasure!

I still shake my head in, it must be, disbelief. One can only pray that our paths cross again.

I thought I was happy. I thought I had it all. But today I realised that the pursuit of happiness is endless; yet for a brief moment I had it in my arms. This was not love, or lust, or a schoolboy crush. She was joy incarnate.

Good Old Collingwood

I read a wonderful article on Cricinfo by Andrew Miller about one of my all time favourite cricketers, who today announced his retirement from test cricket. It summed up Paul Collingwood, the man, and the cricketer, perfectly.

Colly amounted to more then he ever should have as a cricketer; but what I loved about him was that though he was not naturally gifted with the bat, he fought, and fought, and fought, for a test average of over 40. The working class cricketer if you will, the tradesman. I will always remember his massive scream of "YEAHHH!" as he lofted Michael Clarke over mid-on to bring up his double hundred in Adelaide, 2006, and his dogged, scrappy 74 on day five of the Cardiff test of '09, which helped England to a draw against all odds, and ultimately lead to England regaining the Ashes.

Probably even more valuable than his batting though, was his all-round contribution to England's game; whether it be his leadership, sportsmanship, bowling his more-than-handy "dibbly-dobblies", or throwing himself around in the field and taking screamers at third slip or in the gully.

Colly will probably never be talked about by commentators in the future, nor will he be recognised in any kind of test hall of fame or team of the century or anything like that. And somewhat fittingly, too, as that's the way it's been throughout his playing career. A quiet achiever, never vying for attention, and rarely receiving it. Just going about his business, giving his absolute all for his country. Good old Collingwood forever!

Always

2010 Bests

Well, the count down has been counted down, the fireworks watched, and the calendars changed. Looking back on 2010, not quite the best year of my life, but it certainly was far from the worst, here are some of my 2010 bests.

Album

Those who know me know I'm not one of those "HK" music fans, and truth be told I don't listen to, talk about and judge music all that often. Therefore I probably don't have the right to make comments about how great music was or anything like that. Despite this, my favourite album from 2010 is a toss up between Linkin Park's A Thousand Suns and Megan Washington's I Believe You Liar. Both in my mind were quietly spectacular and discreetly brilliant. I've always been a massive fan of LP, and I thought they made a triumphant comeback, sounding purposefully completely different from their last three records and keeping to their own style, not caring what the fuck anyone else thinks. And as for Washington... well what can I say. Every track on that album is simply awesome.

Adventure

Walpole fishing trip.

There were many great adventures had in 2010, from staying out on the jetty at Point Walter, braving howling winds chasing down "Stingrays", to the Rottnest CV dune rehab trip and the wonderful week in Westonia, despite the wind and the rain and a few too many Crownies. But the greatest adventure I had in 2010 was camping in Walpole with Max, Aidan and Brendan midyear. We fished, drank and fished some more for three days straight, sat around the campfire and cooked up a storm on the barby. It really was the perfect, dramaless trip, which can be expected with a bunch of guys, a river, four fishing rods and many cartons of beer.

Westonia.

Movie

I thought '10 was a pretty good year for movies, and I was lucky enough to see a lot of great ones. A few that spring to mind include The Runaways, a bit more indi than I'm used to, but Kristen Stuart and Dekota Fanning were wonderful, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was also very good, though I was always going to enjoy it being a Harry Potter geek, and more recently, Megamind was pretty hilarious. But for me, and I'm sure many would agree, the movie of the year was Inception. The idea behind it was just so different to what I had ever seen before, and the acting was spectacular. Very very impressive stuff. May buy the DVD tomorrow.

Night Out

Jer's 18th and the "greatest photo ever".

The first Carnegies night was wonderful, and it has been described by a few as "the perfect night". I loved every second of it, from pre-drinks at Nic's to cocktails, dancing and singing with my arms clad around some of my best mates and then a dirty dirty end at Black Betties, not to mention getting hauled out of a cab in the middle of nowhere by Cass and almost dying in a bed of prickles and glass in the middle of some highway. Oh well, all's well that ends well! The second, and probably the night out I enjoyed most, was the Ignite Ball in October. Everyone got all prettied up and had a great time, with free drinks all night and high levels of enjoyment. A little quieter (for me) but equally as wonderful were Jer's 18th house party, Mikey's 21st, and the End of Second Semester Bash, hanging with the first years and rocking out to the Novocanes!

Carnegies Wednesday No. 1

In Short

The Joke
The "Stingray". What started as an old fisherman's tale turned out to be a lot more real than any of us expected.
The Moment
Bren Bren drops the eski, simultaneously stacks it, slides, on his ass, in slow motion over the lid and then falls ass-over-tit into the dirt.
The Quote
"not bad, came home, had a beer bailed on my pants then passed out, so yeah probably the best i have been doing for a while" - Syngeon, after a big day of study.
The Tears
The Lost series finale. Not only was it the final episode ever, but it was also the most emotional, gut wrenching episode in all six seasons. Thanks a lot, Darlton!
The Lecturer
Richard "Dick" Harris. Despite being a Kiwi and a harsh marker, he's a great leader, teacher, and one hell of a bloke.
The Friend
Angela Lim. Always there for me on Tuesdays not matter what. Basically the most amazing person I know, you deserve everything you have.

Peace out 2010, let's hope 2011 makes you it's bitch (: