meanwhile in exile
hi spewjournal,

still here, chugging along. probs more spluttering. lurching. yes. you raaaang?
i have been trying, what feels like extra special hard, to feel/act/pretend like i am more of a person, than some vessel of late-bloomed surprise angst. that being said, a lot of folk i know i have told me Not Encouraging tales of how their teen sads were nothing - NUTHIN - compared to the Profound Bummed-ness that hit them in their early 20's. well. fornicate that, i say. look at me GRIN. UNWAVERINGLY. sometimes. i have been practicing....

mah folks visited from new zillun this last week which has been rad, they did all the things they do like nagging me about library fines before saying "hallo", taking me grocery shopping for stuff i can't afford [walnuts! citrus fruits! calcium-enriched soy milk! OH MY] & dad regaling me with a million hectic sounding but glorious tales of indochina, like being in a canoe off the coast of east timor & getting robbed by pirates, then buying another canoe off a tribe in papua & getting robbed for every last clam & having to walk back to port moresby naked because they'd stolen their underwear. i seriously appreciate my dad a lot more nowadays hey, ha ha. my mum gave me some very warm gloves to wear because she said she was worried about my hands getting cold in mongolia. more than anything though, they just gave me a lot of love & general GoodVibes which i am in quite serious want of, so it was pretty fucken lovely.

i am trying to fight this thing that i feel sidling up on me. some days it wells up KABLAMMO! like an icelandic geyser & there is reeeaaallly not much i can do other than wring my hands & be distressed with the state of everything, & do things like buying tickets to forebodingexciting festivals in the heart of the sun, nevada, then wondering how the fuck i am meant to get to black rock city when i don't know anybody going. &, probably more importantly than desert logistics, i've just been trying not to make the great self image/self esteem axis of bullshit so... sharply focused... i find it weird how girls seem to often become far more preoccupied with desirability than desire. is it any wonder so many of us end up with no fucken clue what we actually like, & how to say no to what we don't?

i am also trying really hard to make myself go & socialise with people. to be honest there have been absolutely no new characters in this [the final!] act of Canberra [tragedy? comedy of errors? guh] that have been anything approaching amazing or at all interesting with the exception of liz my housemate, & allen, & some of the girls from essen, & anyone i knew before, well, to be fair, i did pretty much indicate "sure, we're friends, but what about all those other millions of people out there i haven't met yet?" what indeed?

i've been reading a lot, writing, drawing some pretty crappy shit that's fun to draw, stencilling some, printing out pages off the guardian website so i can tape them together like it's a newspaper & i'm still in scotland reading the daily guardian [shut up, i would seriously move back to the uk just for that fucking newspaper], riding my bike at weird hours [exacerbating what is apparently now freely-mingling swine flu], cooking, blah blah. doing all that junk i wanted to do when i go my mitts on the time. but i still just get really fucken indignant a lot, thinking it is just silly or farcical to try & pretend like i am having some semblance of a life here.
liz says it is probably simply because i'm a nomad, & sitting still wouldn't make me happy, even if the background was a lot more wonderful than here. i think i just about blushed when she said it. it is probably the nicest thing the could have said..

i think i am actually quite lonely, too? [i know i am very sad] i dunno. don't get me wrong, as much as i'm not a me-fan i'm a pretty big fan of me-time, & if the kind of boy i like exists here i am not aware of it, but, yeah. what was it she said? i'm just so sick of all these obnoxious, extroverted, pseudo-bohemian losers. oh, & the amazing Coma Fuck? yeahhh, i am well sick of that now. but i dunno what i'd do with a boy if i had him. ha! i think that is actually what feels weirdest about this impending departure.. there is no boy to fall in love with then fuck off to another hemisphere while he's down the shops getting milk. should probs get on to that.

anyway, it feels like i've been trying HARD A LOT scrunching my face up all concentrated-like, inching slowly towards something that is not quite so shit. PERSEVERE! & so forth.


here is me hiding behind liz & some girl at the third dinner part-ay i went to on satdee [GASTRONOMY, HO!]. we had liz's friend jules from brisbane staying with us for the week who we decided to make our native slave boy ["boy! prepare our dinner now!" "boy! fetch my nail buff!"] who, deciding to call attention to the apparent bourgeois nature of the part-ay, stole a book or something, & an avocado, & liz found out after we got home [after i asked the cabbie to marry me because he fit my bike in the cab & spoke FOUR - COUNT 'EM - FOUR languages including pashtu] & got SUUUUUUUUUPER mad & made him walk home & return them. the end.