Last night I was in one of these hurtful shitty moments questioning what the fuck was going on with my head and why I had put myself in a position that would inevitably hurt me. Anyway, instead of wallowing in my own self indulgent depression I decided to call my friend michelle and ask her what was up.
I ended up driving to see michelle, smoking copious amounts of cigarettes and talking for ages. Michelle passed out (she was a drunk little skunk) and I found myself talking to her boyfriend Moffat about life, choices and fast times at ridgemont high. All in all it turned out to be a really good night. I woke up this morning and called up michelle and ended up meeting the same crew of Michelle, Moffat and there lovely friend jack aka the Weimaraner (a silvery-grey breed of dog developed originally in early 19th century for hunting). Personally, I dont think jack could hunt for shit, but he is kinda silvery, i guess. Anyway, had lunch with said crew, went back to jacks and watched 'the history of violence.' I then went to my friend Tali's new boys house for some amazing home cooked dinner of curry and rice. Anyway, I kinda felt like the 3rd wheel there so I bailed after dinner and met up with the same crew outside a pub and walked back to jacks. On our way home, some members of the now larger crew went into the bottle shop and I stood there on Oxford St, thinking 'fuck im lucky.'
I think im really lucky, because for the first time in my life I cant honestly say, yeah shit does happen but im okay. I trust myself. I get really paranoid thoughts sometimes in which i think 'shit this is all a dream' but I really do beleive its just a dream and isnt happening. Apparantly, this means im scared of reality or of something that goes on. I get panick attacks when this happens and basically feel 'out of control' (i can write about panick attacks at a later time, now is not that time) So, im standing on oxford st and I start to feel slightly surreal, and then I think to myself no, theres nothing surreal about this. The people i'm around right now really do just rock. These new friends of mine are kinda real, as in they genuinely get along with eachother, think about things that do matter, such as nintendo, music, skateboards, paying the rent, ice-cream, sex and vegemite sandwiches. For example to my right, right now I can hear someone say 'I dropped the half pipe and nailed myself and eventually I made it and was happy.' I like this talk, this banter because it 'just is', its in the moment , it lacks pretense, im not listening to people bitch, or judge im listening to happy thoughts that come from the moment.
If you haven't worked it out right now Im sitting at Jacks house again and the crew has extended to 12 people. Rahr, (thats his name) is to my left and he said to me 'hey I heard you started a blog.' Though it was a simple thing to say, I loved that he said it. People have complained to me since I started this blog a whole week or so ago, ive alrady been asked why the fuck im writing and what im planning on doing with this. But to have someone just genuinely ask and be interested was amazing to me, because someone seemed to care, even if it was only a little bit, it doesnt matter, its the thoughts that count.
So im sitting right here, right now and kinda just wanna put out there its the thought that counts. And my thoughts right now are just kinda to thank everyone here right now, for letting me be me, because after all the bullshit I put myself through sometimes in the end I am ok and I am fucking lucky. In this room of 12 people, nobody is bothering me as I write this infront of them, knowone is saying 'do you think your cool writing right now' (which is sometimes what im used to hearing.) All i feel is respect for who I am and acceptance for who I am.
So the title of this blog is 'memories are made of these.' yes, im cheesy, but fukit!
till next time