While I Was Waiting for You (My Tea Went Cold)

I live in a room where nothing is my own and I define myself by single serving packets of sugar and whatever I can fit in the tiny fridge. My toaster is on the floor, my belongings in my suitcase by the window and everyone that enters reminds me it feels like short stay accomodation.


I feel slightly uncomfortable in my skin right now as I get dressed with my back to the mirror. I look at my clothed reflection and wonder how many more T shirts I think I need before I have a satisfying collection.

My favourite day is Sunday in the beautiful afternoon sun. I kick myself for biting my tounge when I want to say something nice, and kick myself even harder whenI do and I have to keep my hands to myself.

The sun sets and doesnt stream through my window anymore.....the fog blankets the city and keeps me warm; a comfort I yern to experience, safety and a sence of security.

Down the Rabbit Hole (In china town)

Im really tired of eating chinese food, paying for laundry and my tea going cold while I day dream about things that matter but consume too much tea drinking time.

Everything is in a suitcase and the things that are not feel like they dont have a place.

I want an oven.

My stockings got a massive ladder in them this morning and I spilt my tea on my skirt before I had to leave.

I feel somewhat really stupid and embarrassed. My clothes rarely match, Im really unfit, exhausted, overworked, if I blush one more time my cheeks will explode.

If only I had normal TV I would crawl into bed and host the biggest pity party.

Just RSVP by the weekend.

The face with no Name

2 weeks ago on my way to college I stumbled across a lit candle in a small corner of the Queen Victoria Building. The corner was dark and cold and in the mornings was home to a homeless man with short grey hair who was very thin. Every morning I would walk past and know he would be lying there asleep next to a cup of takeaway coffee and a chocolate muffin that would often only have one bite taken out of it before it was discarded a short distance from where he lay. I wondered on occasion if he bought the muffin himself or if every morning someone would give it to him along with something to drink. He looks old, tired, done.

On this particular morning I didnt look for the homeless man and the only reason I stopped was because a candle was lit in the dark corner he normally resides.....a candle, a small bunch of flowers, rollies and a note that read 'If you knew this man please pay your respects' and then a short list of nicknames he was most known by. I stopped and looked for a few moments before moving on. I think I convinced myself that the homeless man was just gone and he would be back. It was really sad to think he passed away on the street in the very spot I see him every day and that someone had to find him that way.

For a solid week the shrine stayed and the homeless man didnt show.

On Thursday before Good Friday I walked by and took this photo of the lone candle someone had lit for him every day for the past few weeks. Someone bought him coffee and someone noticed he was gone.

In amongst a world of chaos, even the smallest of us are missed.

For the Experience of a Better Life

I have not slept for 2 weeks, the suitcases under my eyes are hording more and more baggage and I can only blame it on paranoia. Last weekend a man asked my sister which floor she was going to then he followed her up and continued to lurk near the lifts. When my brother in law went downstairs the same man got on and followed him up too. I called the police - I love how safe this place is sometimes.

A few days after my imagination fueled heard drilling coming from outside the hall. Its likely matience was fixing a lock but I still got up in the middle of the night and made sure the door was secure. If it wasnt for the random abandoned matress lying in the hall days earlier I think my mind might not have run away with itself so much.

Last night I heard blood curdling screams coming from the street below me in China Town. I dont usualy get up for this because its usually some drunk girl who has broken her heel but it was so intense I had to take a look. 5 security guards were around her and one was running up the street after a man while at least 10 people stood watching. I have no idea what happened.

A few hours later a well dressed man in a suit stood infont of a parked car and abused the shit out of it for 2 hours at the top of his lungs.

Windowsil hangs.

Cry me a River

- Snaps to the awesome hardcore references people post in their facebook status.

- Slaps to the 2 gentlemen in suits who sat sipping their latte's while watching me struggle with chairs to get to the front of the cafe only to stand up and pass me my coffee when it arrived. NOT COOL!

- Snaps to meeting random people in unusual places and making best friends with people in the lines for beer.

- Slaps to people who listen to Ipods on the way to work while looking down and not realising I am there untill they are sitting on my lap. NOT COOL!

- Snaps to T shirts of any kind, preferably V Necks or 'boy jumpers' which are super awesome to wear to bed.

- Slaps to seeing a dude wearing the Kate Moss T Shirt i recently bought and being disgusted that it actually looked better on him than me. NOT COOL!!

Nomads Land

This morning I had the misfortune of standing next to a woman who was taking loudly and incoherently to herself , a bag of rubbish in her hand. She looked to be in her 50's with short black hair and was very thin. When the lights changed and we crossed the road I made sure I slowed down to give her an opportunity to pass me but she cut me off, and for some reason didnt like it and hit me with her bag. Then she turned around,yelled at me and hit me with it again.

I have never seen her before and I don't know if I will see her again. At night they disappear, and in the day they roam. The mornings they sleep or wander around amorously, with take away coffee cups and chocolate chip muffins. 'Dreadlocks' feet are black, he sleeps on the steps of the church because its warm and never begs for money. I have seen him in the mornings drinking a cup of coffee at the cafe up the road like he was getting ready for a business meeting then spends his day laughing at things that are not there and walking up and down George Street.

Today I saw another young guy on the street with his face covered by his hoody. What I could see told me he was not homeless as much as he was a junkie - the sad thing is now I can pick the difference.

Eye Candy 101

I am a little worried about my teacher, if not for his very unusual teaching method of speaking in various accents, than for today's hot tip of 'Half your age and add 7, that's about right'

I am a bit at a loss for words.

You see I am caught in a conundrum because if i lie about my age than the 'right age' is under age...and if i admit my real age...than the 'right age' is still quite young and if someone my age could really pull someone the 'right age' than that's awesome but in the reality of the situation the 'right age' is really the 'wrong age' in society's view on cougar-ism which i think will eventually become an Olympic sport.

So in summery the following rules apply just like when you go into a display home; look but dont touch, if you break it than you bought it and remember to check where the cameras are before you do anything stupid.