Awake

I want things again.
Plural.
And I really want them, I care about them, I have enough energy to try and get them.
So this is about all the things I want, to remind me if I ever forget again.

I want to dye my hair hot pink

I want to appreciate people and personalities



I want to finish the HSC and do well, not because I need to but so I can be proud of myself

I want to kiss someone who I actually care about

and when I do I don't want to be numbed

I want to act

I want to read

I want to write

I want to travel

I want to meet people

I want to experience

I want to fight for who and what I believe in

even if that means breaking the rules sometimes

I really want to remember the inherent goodness of humanity

even if it's hard to see sometimes

And honestly, part of me

wants to go back

but not for a bit

And until then, I want to remind others about what I so easily forgot

photos.  

Thank you for everything

You all helped me a lot.

anna



photo.   

There is a small smile playing on her lips, and as your eyes follow her you get the feeling she's smiling at her own private joke. She walks, head high, long strides across the stage to accept her award. Smiles as she shakes his hand. There is an air of unashamed intelligence about her, a calm manner that suggests not shyness, but a level of confidence in which attention-seeking is not necessary. That is probably what is most appealing about her, that wicked smile and quiet air -it makes you wonder what she's thinking, because that's all you can do, wonder.
I suppose she's pretty, in a dark-haired, olive-skinned way. In a sweet-smile way. But what makes you look at her is her eyes, not because they are beautiful, but because they are deep and dark and steady. Because, she has this way of looking you directly in the eye without ever meeting your gaze.
And you wonder if she's slipping away from this world as you speak to her, like gradually she's distancing herself until all she needs to do is pull the trigger.

tub

photo.  

my hands are limp,
mute and white.
they float
against my naked body
occasionally nudging the bleached tub
their bones, sharp,
peer out at the bleak room
through a thin layer of film
almost kissing the air
they are contrasted by the-
contrasted.
i imagine the day
they will be contrasted
and i will have no eyes to see it.

Deja Vu

photo.   

I have this feeling that keeps coming back to me
like not only have i been here before, but i've said these things before, I was in this exact situation before
more than that, i have lived this exact life before
and like groundhog day i keep screwing it up
so i am forced to relive it
and i think
oh the cruelty
because more than ever i believe the mistake will be some kind of tragedy.
will be something bad.
but instead of peace i will be forced to relive it
to start again
to endure everything i've taken so far
again

it feels like moments are gathering towards one
and although i can do anything to change it
i don't know how to
or want to
because the idea of making it up as i go along,
of not unconsciously knowing what's in store
is fucking scary

the back-up

it's not a plan, it never was
but sometimes it feels as if it's this inevitability i will fight until the day i don't.

photo.  

love

From the broad vaults and spaces you can see it all again because it never ceases to be. You can see that figure teetering out over the water, looking into your face, and you can see the crowd up on the treethick bank behind him finishing this momentous day off and getting ready to wonder where he is.

And you can't help but worry for them, love them, want for them- those who go on down the close, foetid galleries of time and space without you.

-Cloudstreet, Tim Winton

photos.