Australia

I’m worried I write better when depression has its hand gripping my throat; choking out words strung along into eloquent, pity-worthy sentences. Its easier to relate. We all feel like shit sometimes.
But right now, I don’t feel like shit, and alas – my writing suffers. It’s a menial, if not miniscule, price to pay for feeling what I’m feeling and better my writing suffers than, y’know… me.
The 15-hour plane ride seems like centuries ago, hidden under dust and cobwebs. Some antique I no doubt stashed into an attic, I hardly remember anything but the last moments in that seat. I looked out the window for the final two hours. The Pacific expanded as far as the horizon. Somewhere out there was everyone I loved. Somewhere out there was Alaska. Somewhere out there was the place I called home. And with the exception of a passing thought, I didn’t care much. I’m here now.
I took a taxi to my apartment across inner city Sydney, at first startled by my driver using the left side of the road as his course. Before I muttered out, “what the hell are you doing?”, I remembered where I was and ease came over me as we silently meandered our way through buildings I had once been so familiar with, emerging out of the fog of my memory. I’m here now.
We pulled up to an orange house on a crowded street and I was immediately greeted with two kisses and the overwhelming hospitality of a landlord, who doesn’t deserve the stigma that comes with the word. Tineke showed my room, the tea kettle, and made her way off. I settled in. Two hours later, the itch of adventure came with a fury. I took a deep breath, made my way out the door, and let the spring sun kiss my shoulders as I walked the shoreline of this continent. Ah, I’m here now.
This time, these few days, come as a reprieve before work starts up again. In seemingly no time at all, I will be pulling up black jeans, throwing on a black tank top, and strapping black, life-worn heels to my feet, strutting into castings and go-sees and things of the model-like. But for right now, I’m enjoying jetlag and the plant-lined street where I live that smells like every single one of my favorite scented candles. Times will get harder – there is no doubt in my mind – but thank God I’m here now.

One thought on “Australia

  1. Hey,had a little flash of my adventures into the unknown. It hurts to grow in so many different ways but you always become a fuller person for it. Out migration has a high mortality but for those who survive come back to share and inspire. is the grass greener? Remember your home,it is in your heart where we are always with you.
    And yeah,don’t forget my boomerang!

    Like

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