Thursday, August 28, 2008


My daily routine is sensitive. When something disrupts it, everything else fails to sit right. Tim is leaving for the Outback for work while I'm left alone. I'm not alone though -- I have friends from work, friends from Facebook, other random friends, and parents. It's great.

Why do I need someone to be by my side at night? Why can't I fall asleep and feel peaceful and at ease when I'm alone? Are we meant to be left alone? I've always been surrounded by people -- living at home, living in residence, and working or studying abroad or in another part of the country. Why do people feel the need for personal space? Or living alone?

I wish I had a larger appt (3 bedrooms) and lived with more friends. That way, maybe life would be easier -- maybe for more people than just for myself.

Saturday, August 16, 2008


Sitting in my den, I have so much to say, but nothing to write.
The soft light bounces back to me.

I like how the light falls through the cracks of the blinds, revealing greys, blues, purples, and creams. The soft light bounces off the glass doors and shelters me in my fish bowl. Behind me is my full length mirror, still not hung on the wall because of the concrete that hides behind it. I turned to look at myself over my shoulder; slouched, seeing the girl on the other side peer through the corner of her eye. It's a stare I give only to myself. She looks distant and dark with the soft light behind her reflecting off of me. The soft light bounces back to me.

How can we relate to people without looking at ourselves first? How do we learn to understand others?

How does one become selfless but not to the extreme where you no longer have respect for yourself? Can selfless- and selfishness be two sides of the same trait? Can it be selfish to care about the happiness of others?