to stay...

All pain

All joy

All sorrow

All rough

And

Regeared

Life

Cut open

Bloody

Exposed

Healing

Through

Your

Knife

What’s left?

What lasts?

What’s important

Until the end day

To overcome

To face what’s

Broken

Hungry like the grave

And try

And learn

And know

What it really means to stay

#mish

#thesoundtrackofnam...

#abouttoday...
"Reflecting on today i should have eaten more than bubble tea, pineapple and an airplane "meal" [its not really that bad, i don't know why airplane food gets so much hate...] it had been 12 days and the police still hadn't finished or rather- hadn't started the insurance report for my stolen iphone. Anh said its because it got taken from your hand, in daylight, at the same intersection that the police station is on- so it makes them look bad and lazy... which is what they are! he said.
i sat in the police station for too long again, one of the girls who run the hostel translated for me; a whole lot more aggressively than how i put it and it worked. she added things like " she'll call the australian embassy and report you... if she misses her flight tonight you'll be paying for it etc etc" i was very thankful that she was there with me.

before this experience began, i wondered what the soundtrack would be and since my chosen music was removed from me on the first day here; the soundtrack naturally became the experience itself...
the lyrics are foreign, the melody- both haunting and playful. sounds cut in and out of each other but with a sense of belonging; traffic- motorbike horn, a stream of flowing water, the sound of children playing, bricks falling down, someone coughing up, an old woman weeping and begging, weeping and begging, a dog and a chicken, a man laughing and still laughing, layers of silence and if every shade of green had one sound- that... and a woodwind instrument and my beating heart...

The album art would be something like a collage of motorbikes colliding around a monument of earthly significance made of buffalo-head triangle cheese and everything would be drowning, sinking into the ocean but in a hopeful way... with yellow flowers in there somewhere. 

and that is the soundtrack of my #namtownadventure"

one day we will fly

i've consumed more tea in the last two weeks than i have in my life time...

i was trying to think of a time from my childhood where i really believed that i could fly. it seems like something a child could believe but i struggle to find memories from that time. Where do they go? The memories, i mean...

maybe there's something deeply sad about that. 

none of my childhood memories are solid, i could try but i'd always be questioning- did that really happen or was it a dream i had? i remember hiding from my dad under the bed until my mum got home and not in fun way...it's never actually the way we remember it, is it...? 

Sure i could start to tell you how i was playing in the sand box when i was five and he throw sand in my eyes and instead of crying about it, i pick up one of his tonka trucks and used my best aim and strongest arm and that's why he's still got that scar on his forehead today. But that never happened; it's just one of those things i tell my friend's in social situations when they ask "wait, how do you two actually know each other?" when really they're referring to a stranger, i've just met. i love strangers. infinite potential. and i talk to them like i know them because i want to- know them. sometimes i want to know who everyone is...

anyway i drew this #paperairplane because i could not remember a time when i believed i could fly...