i've been spending a great deal of my time lying on my couch in the dark, thinking about everything.

sometimes the act takes on far greater meaning than the outcome.

i had decided to give it all up.

two of the most important symbols, for me anyway, were my writing and the pursuit of any kind of relationship, friends, family, romantic.

it was working, sometimes.

i'd catch myself trying to describe things, or capture the colour of the sky through the window, or figure out how a blind person would sense the walk down st-kilda road, or tying up the loose ends in my novel, or thinking about rituals involving death, and victorian circuses, or the nature of telling stories, or the feeling of the wind as it picks up a heavy cloak around you, or the sun on your face in the morning as you stand atop a building waiting to fall.

i couldn't help it, and i still cant.

i would read things and find quotes relating to writing that just made me want to sit down & write. things like : "you've got to have a pasion to tell stories. the life that you live is not the real life, it's the stories you have inside you." phil noyce :- empire interview march 2002.

but the act of writing again, of picking up a pen, or opening a laptop, signals my unwillingness to give up. it reflects all of the things that keep me here, doing these things, despite the overwhelming desire to just shut myself down.

the same goes for the girl thing. strange how these two important things have kind of spawned themselves right at a point where a decision really should be made.

but making a choice, making a definite, positive, action constitutes a choice on my part. a choice to keep going, to not slip beneath the surface and to continue to try and be happy. whatever that means.

for what it's worth, miss noodle seeing as we spoke about this earlier, even if she is seeing someone, or doesn't feel the same, it's the act that is infused with meaning. i'm still dealing with the possibilities of it all, of what both paths of action mean for me. the outcomes, the choices that need to be made, and the resolution to make them. these are all things that rest just outside of my reach right now.

i don't think i'm ready to go fully either way just yet, in the writing or the girl thing, or in the grander scheme that resembles my life.

sorry, this has been a bit of a braindump. i'd just been sitting around thinking & sometimes there is an overwhelming need to communicate, even if it's only the illusion of communication.

"This is how all journeys start you know.
Without any knowledge of the true beginning and without any knowledge of where the end might lie."

and with that. he was gone.