Update Party!

It's been far too long and I apologise. All my efforts have been going into traveling and appreciating life and documenting it in my travel blog (which you can find at http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog/roxyhart/2/tpod.html) and writing everything on actual paper with an actual pen as opposed to on the interwebs. 

Sincerest 'sorry's. The time to hesitate is through. Updates shall begin, written exactly as they were scrawled into my notebook, most likely at some ungodly hour. Hopefully crossing a series of different countries and thought processes over the last month or so.

Enjoy.

Final boarding call

This is our last day together, Sydney.
Let's not say goodbye just yet.
Let's sit and hold hands by the jacarandas,

Let's dance like God himself planned this.
I was always going to leave you, dear.
My staying here would be a murder suicide
A 9 to 5 desk job would rob me blind
But let's not talk such crimes on a day as fine as this one.

I know you've been crying, dear.
Your tears still stain the treetops.
Please stop,
It's not that I won't miss you.
We were just never meant to be
Monogamy ..
well, it never really suited me in the first place.

Let's not waste these last moments.
Let's pack Vegemite sandwiches
and run away to all our secret spots,
listen as cicadas sing me a proper send-off,
set off fireworks in Darling Harbour like it's New Years Eve
not just another year in which I leave you.

The countdown has begun, Sydney.
It's time to make your resolutions.
Swear you won't forget me.
After all, you were my first love.

Time turners.

The idea of seconds has never sat well with me.
Second rate, second chance, 

even first place ties
have always just reminded me 

of the seconds passing by.

Losing time, is a big fear of mine.

So much so 

clocks have never lasted long in our home.
Their hands fell at those of feathers
bearing down on them like firearms.

Sometimes it's hard,

to hear anything but menace in their heart beat
when once we were naive enough
we heard it as hope.

Mouse trap.

We loved like a game of Operation, 

No matter what card you drew, 

you always went for the heart.

You were clumsy. 

Hands shaking, lights buzzing 

your surgical kit seemed to consist only of scalpels.

You drew blood faster than I'd ever been able to donate.

This isn't heartbreak, 

it's malpractice.

Calligraphy.

It was the night after our graduation.

I finally paid lip service to my youth long infatuation.
Scrawled a late night dictation
of my heart against your ribcage.

Love letters made
With promiscuous ink
on a pale skin page.

A long tale 

though one only ever destined to be 

a short term story;

manuscripts never seem to read the same

come morning.

Come sobriety,

the time that we slip clothes 

back over naked bones

and love letters fade until

they become just another shade of your skin tone.

'Be Changed' Australian Tourism Ad

Holy wow.

I am in awe of this man.

'This your Atlas

a map of the experiences you manage to capture.

We've been waiting, 

but this place has a patience.

A greatness that doesn't try to make you feel late

just welcome when you finally arrive.

Just trees?

Just water?

Nah, just perfect.

Be moved by the vastness of this one open moment. 

We are in motion.'

- Bravo Child

My ticket stub banquet.

Here, we never go hungry.

We are too full on hope

gorged on ambition.

We will never be comfortable with the concept of permanent residency

Home has always been a foreign language.

We sit instead, 

hands outstretched,

in airport alleyways.

We are not asking for money.

We are begging for change.