contemplation.

cheers to all the things i thought i knew, what i used to believe in & to the unknown.

it may not be the life.... but it is life.


here's to the night we felt alive
here's to the tears you knew you'd cry
here's to goodbye
tomorrow's gonna come too soon

here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well

shoulda, woulda, coulda.

letting go of a good thing may not be a wise move, but how could i have given my word without fully knowing that i will keep to it?

so here i am thinking about what could have been... and how everything has been since that first night.

you made me laugh a little louder, smile a little brighter
you made me feel like it was possible to do this all over again
you looked right through me and saw me for what i was, the way no man has in a long time

you made me realise that it isn't always about physical attraction but the warm fuzziness of companionship... the one thing that i still miss every now & then.

it was a genuine form of happiness
somehow, someway you managed to break past the barrier... or maybe i allowed you to.

but what's not meant to be will not be...
i couldn't give you what you asked of me and i had to watch you go.

you didn't say a word as you walked out the door. did you at least turn & look?

"we can't all be like you. some of us are and always will be a little messed up."


i will only allow myself this much time & space to feel like this.

then i will pick myself up, dust myself off and get on with life.

don't let it happen again.

food for thought.

the lady from the cafe next door had an unusual piece of advice for me this afternoon:

"be careful because he's married... you never know what might happen."

peter pan.

growing older doesn't necessarily mean growing wiser,
but it sure is tough all the same.

fact or fiction?

she didn't know his last name but it didn't matter.

she didn't know where he worked other than that he was a lawyer/accountant ("lawcountant" was the term she used so she wouldn't forget) and that he was a very busy professional who lived in Sydney and flew to places across Australia for work.

she didn't know anything about his personal life but that was okay; he didn't know much about hers either.

when he had called her earlier that evening she knew she just had to put a face to the name and voice. she wasn't desperate, just curious.

it was her first time seeing the insides of Crown Towers where he was putting up for the night - luxury she could only dream of being able to afford.

she noticed little things about the room and him - his CK boxers, his expensive looking cufflinks, the Herringbone shopping bag on the dresser ("i had to run out and buy a new shirt because i didn't expect to be staying the night"), polished black shoes.

he was not spectacular in bed. in fact, she thought the sex was bad... really bad. he blamed his inability to perform well on the fact that he had an insanely early start that morning with a flight to catch to Melbourne, where he was on the go for the rest of the day.

later, they ordered room service and lay in bed talking. he asked her a few questions, nothing too personal. she answered as truthfully as she could.

it was getting late and they both had to be up early the next morning. as she put her clothes on, he pulled out $50 from his wallet and placed it on the desk - "take a cab home, i'll pay."

her place was only a 15-minute walk away, so she pocketed the money and walked home instead.

still looking.

it was fun for awhile
there was no way of knowing
like a dream in the night
who can say where we're going

no care in the world
maybe i'm learning
why the sea on the tide
has no way of turning

more than this - you know there is nothing

peace of mind.

i love waking up in the morning to the city sounds and looking out of my window at the city sights.

i love saturday mornings.

the sun is out; it will be another fantastic day.