Happy Pets Pet Sitting

Hi all,

Just wanted to let you know I have a small business pet sitting, dog walking, and overnight house sitting in Brisbane.
If you want to know more, check out my website, www.happypetsitting.com.au

Many thanks! :)

Tara

The Worst Deceit

I see you Monday. You have to do some things at the shops and your old house and last time we talked I told you I’d been upset by us all week. I see you and I can’t help smiling even though I’d been so upset all week. Seeing you somehow stops me from remembering all my sad thoughts. I don’t bring up my sadness but you do. It’s nice that you actually want to talk about my sadness. It makes me think you have been listening to me. I can’t remember why I was sad (being with you) but I tell you I’ve been very sad about us all week. And you try to get me to talk but I don’t know what else to say because I don’t really want to get upset in the shopping centre. We don’t talk about it for a bit and we have some light banter. We go to your old home and you fix up whatever you need and I stare out the window watching the trees sway in the breeze. I secretly want you to come up behind me and hold me and kiss me and never let me go. You do come up and hug me from behind and kiss my neck and then we sit down and you put your head between my thighs and rest there. You have taken your shirt off and I am always fascinated by your bare chest and back and I can’t help but want to stroke your skin. You ask me again what’s wrong? And I say I don’t know what to say. I’ve been feeling terrible all week and being with people I’m ok but being alone I get sad and depressed about how we are. I don’t know how this is going to work. And my sadness is from things you can’t do anything about. I would like to be able to speak to you whenever I want rather than wait for you. And we try to think about how that could work. I joke that it’ll probably be only me figuring it out but I think you took that as an insult when it was a joke. We enjoy our time together until you drive me home. It was all fine. I knew it was going to happen and then you say you’ll possibly see me tomorrow and for a second I’m surprised and happy and then I remember the other times you have said that to me and what has happened and I feel sad. I say, probably not, to try stop myself from hoping and from being hurt when it didn’t happen. And you say, probably, and I say well you’ve said things will happen before and I haven’t heard from you, and you look at me helplessly and I realise I’ve ruined the end of our hang. You say possibly maybe you’ll see me and I leave. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just trying to protect myself from disappointment if it didn’t happen. And then I realise I’m hanging with my boyfriend all day the next day but in my head if you do prove me wrong and have time for me then I am prepared to lie to my boyfriend to spend time with you because I barely get to see you and I would be so happy if you proved me wrong this time. Maybe this time. 
I spend my day wondering if you are going to text and then realise by the end that you aren’t. I say to myself, well I suppose he was busy or caught up doing something. Because I never believed you would hurt me deliberately or value our time together so little. 
The next day you say, morning Sadie, in a very not friendly way the next day and I say, good morninggg, because I was in a better mood and you ask me what I’ve been up to and I say, not much, in a small hope you might be free even though I was doing some work. And you reply, chilling and possibly doing some unpacking, and I realise you probably aren’t free and so I confront the issue of yesterday saying I was right, and your next messages punch me hard in the chest. You said, no, I made you right. And I said, made me right?

And you said, I had some free time but I gamed instead. And I felt it. It hurt. It really hurt. You had chosen to not spend time with me. That was what you had just said to me. I said, that makes me feel terrible and you said I made you feel terrible on Monday. I still couldn’t believe it. You had said the words I had always dreaded. You didn’t want to see me. And I’m not quite sure why but it seemed to me that you did it for a petty reason. To teach me a lesson? To hurt me? To make a point? To prove my harsh but true words right? You didn’t apologise. You didn’t even seem like you cared that you hurt me. I told you, that really hurt, and you said I made you feel terrible too with some comments I made. So did you do it because I said something wrong?

I asked if I hadn’t said that would you have seen me? And you said you probably would’ve seen me if I hadn’t said that. And it’s like a threat to me. -I can’t tell you what hurts me anymore because it’ll hurt your feelings or you’ll take any time we could have together away from me-

And all I’m thinking is, you chose not to see me. Don’t you realise how little time we spend together already? Does that not matter to you? I would spend every little free time I could with you. Even when you have hurt me I would still rearrange my busiest day schedule for you. I have been lying to my friends and family and to my boyfriend for you. And you don’t even want to spend time with me...😶

I can’t believe you have done this to me. Why would you do it? You say you want me to be happy with you and then you do this. I can’t believe anything you say anymore. Your actions contradict your words, quite a few times now. I have given you so many chances and even accepted that you may not be there for me when I need you. But this has really ruined me. I don’t know how to trust you anymore. 

Healing

Bruises litter her arms. Her eyes fluttered open and she found a peaceful pain that helped her remember that she was still alive.

She couldn’t understand it but she knew with certainty; she had been somewhere where someone had really pushed her to the brink. Somehow she got lucky and disappeared.

She closed her eyes and pretended she could feel the presence of every living thing she was in contact with. It clouded her headed and numbed her senses.

She was safe here. She knew it.

She lay on the soft ground with the earth gently moulding to her skinny frame. She didn’t weigh much but the soil knew she needed a soft place to lay and adjusted to fit. She breathed in the richness of life and knew she couldn’t end it now. Not now she was in this beautiful world. She curled her fingers to feel more in contact with the world and buried her fingers in the soil.

“Hey! Get out of it! Leave my soil alone! What the hell do you think you’re doing ruining my beautiful cabbages! Ahhh get! Get gone with you!” 

She looked up slowly and saw a form growing bigger and more ominous coming this way. She stared fascinated and a little confused.

“Sorry.” She looked around and realised she must have been ruining someone’s lovely produce and felt a little bad but couldn’t help just feeling at peace in amongst it all. She was sorry to slowly get up and apologised once again. 

“Well now!”

She started leaving feeling like it was the right thing to do and said sorry again.

The man looked at her skinny frame and wondered how a thing like her ended up here.

His anger dissipated and he felt a little worried at her unhealthy stature. He knew whoever must have treated her that way must’ve been rotten and he didn’t want her to leave in such a state.

“Wait!” 

She turned her head and saw him staring with pity in his eyes and she stared straight into it. She knew it. She knew what she looked like and she knew that it would make people like this. She didn’t feel anything though. She just stared blankly wishing she hadn’t left the earth.

“Come here. You look like death.”

She stared doubtfully but where else was she going to go?

She knew the worst had happened and this place, wherever it was, was never going to be as bad as the place she had come from.

He walked over to her and looked like he wanted to reach out but he restrained himself from trying to show pity. She could see his eyes struggling to lie with kindness.

“I’m sorry” she said again.

He moved closer and reached around and pulled his jacket off and held it out to her.

Her tattered dress hung off her limply and she took the jacket not as a way to cover up but just as a courtesy to him so he didn’t have to stare at her form. 

She wrapped it around loosely and followed him. He kept glancing back at her making sure she hadn’t just stopped or turned and walked away. 

Sooner than she expected she saw a small cottage. It looked neat but also a little wild. The world grew differently here. She couldn’t remember her previous world but she knew this one was different. She followed him through a small gate that anyone could jump over easily. It was white and creaked when it stuck to the ground.

She closed it behind her and he led her into the door. The house smelled of stew and she felt it create a hunger she had forgotten to feel. He led her to a table and pulled out a chair. She sat down. It was wooden but there was a cushion to make it less grinding on her bones.

She watched him as he opened a cupboard with bowls in and spooned some stew into it. 

“It’s not quite ready but I bet that doesn’t matter much to you.” 

She just looked at him. She still didn’t feel anything. She had hunger but there was no pain, no emotion, just a blankness she didn’t know how to break out of. 

The earth made her feel part of something and now she was alone in the world with another stranger. She didn’t know what to feel. She didn’t feel part of anything and couldnt steal it’s contedness and peacefulness. She had to find her own way and so far she didn’t know how to be something. She didn’t know who she was in this life or her past life. She had no identity and it was all she knew.

He put the bowl in front of her with a spoon and broke off a piece of bread that smelt fresh. It was warm and soft and felt like it would taste amazing. She dipped it into the stew slowly and deliberately. She wasn’t quite sure what the right thing to do was but once she had thoroughly soaked the bread she lifted it to her lips, blew on it and bit down into the lush soggy bread. It was a relief- the whole feeling of it. It was something to focus on instead of the emptiness of her being. It spread warmth through her whole body. It was...comforting. This small piece of warm soggy bread somehow made her feel something after who knows how long of not and it was strange. The experience helped blossom other things in her. She ate with a little more confidence and slowly began to realise that she could let herself feel emotions and everything felt new and strange. She had not realised she had closed her eyes until she looked up and saw him with his back to her stirring away and adding other various ingredients to the pot. She was glad he wasn’t staring at her. It was comforting... there was that word again. Comforting that she could experience these feelings without being subject to an audience. It was hers and hers alone. No one else could relish in her experiencing herself for the first time in a long long time. It was great and a long way to being healed. But this stranger had helped begin to aid in her recovery and her strength; Strength in herself and in her physical body. Before she knew it the bowl was nearly empty except for the last bits of liquid she could gather up without some more bread.

Not Enough Time

His hand grasps hers tightly in one hand and a fluffy tuft of grass in the other. His back is to the grass and she is right beside him. They stare into each other’s eyes. Her eyes are a supernatural green, alluring, dangerous, and otherworldly.  Her hair is twirled and twisted in and around blades of grass. Her swirling curls that are brilliantly pale orange contrast brightly with the natural green hues. She wishes he would kiss her already. He doesn’t get the hint and sits up brushing off bits of green and brown attached to his back. His hand leaves hers and he feels each tear he makes as each strand of grass is pulled away from the earth. He throws it all over her and watches as the green confetti twirls jaggedly to the ground. Her pale orange dress becomes dotted with grass. She glares at him, her piercing gaze inviting him to move closer. He pulls her on top of him and her laugh echoes around the small empty park filling it with the mirth of Christmas day.

He knows she loves him but he’s still not sure what to do. He spent his whole life wondering whether his life would just go by without him realising, like a cloud. But now something worthwhile was happening that made him want it to stop so he could continue on carefree. She is his happiness and he isn’t sure how to deal with that.

He is dying. He can feel the energy of his life slowly ebbing away day by day. One or two years from now and no one knows…. not yet anyway.

He remembers how he met her for the first time in this park. She appeared out of nowhere, like a falling star. He had no one until her. No girl was ever so vibrant, so feisty, so … her.

She had looked so confused at first. He had walked slowly and cautiously towards her and then asked her if she was all right. She had hesitated before answering.

“Alexis Tellyweather.”

“I didn’t ask… never mind. Are you all right?’

“Perfectly so for an all right person.”

“You have a weird name.”

He hadn’t meant to say it but he got his punishment none the less. She punched him hard, for a girl. He had hints of a black eye for a few days after that. Her hand was still closed as she looked down on him. He slowly moved to a sitting position as she squatted down next to him. Her fingertips lightly traced his cheek down his face. He put his clumsy hand up to retrace her line and found red staining his fingers.

“What a marvellous red!”

Her words were soothing and drove away any harsh emotions he had felt towards her. She’s still as peculiar as she was then.

Her eyes were staring directly above his and he noticed there were flecks of starlight within the lively green. They reminded him of stories long forgotten. Suddenly he saw a slight flicker out of the corner of his eye and her lips were on his. He had been so surprised he had jumped without leaving the ground and caught his foot on a root. She laughed so much she couldn’t hold herself up anymore and ended up with her face first on his chest and her body shaking from a happiness he had never known before. Soon they were both rolling on the ground hysterical. Passers-by ignored them and the world had moved on around them. They were stuck in their own little world where everything else in existence didn’t mean anything and all that mattered to him was her. And yet somehow, she beat him to those three annoyingly lovely words.

Today he had planned to tell her but she was so happy. He couldn’t spring such news onto her now. She looked down at him with those wonderful eyes and he got lost in how beautiful she was on top of him. She smiled gently and moved to his side in a sighing manner.

“What’s wrong Ian?”

He looked down, noticed his jeans developing a loose thread and started picking at it with his fingers. Knowing he can’t avoid it forever he looks up into her face and notices a sad smile.

“I’m dying, Alexis.”

“I know. Everyone is. How long?”

He’s slightly taken aback by her answer and indicates one to two with his fingers. She nods her head in response.

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

This was the moment she’d been waiting for. The moment he’d been waiting for. He pecks her cheek and moves his lips slowly towards her ear and then whispers.

“I love you.”

He slips a note into her pocket.

Dear Alexis,

I need you like the sun needs the light,

I love you like a flower loves the sun and the bees, and the rain,

I think of you so much that it hurts me that I’ve hardly had any time left with you,

If only you had appeared like a falling star when I was old enough to comprehend love. It has been an adventure and I don’t know where you came from or your real name (neither do you) but I just want you to know.

I love you and I know the words are too general to say. Something anyone could say so I will write to you what those words mean to me when I say them to you. I know this isn’t the best worded love letter but it’s my first and most likely to be my last.

I love your hair, your quirky taste in colours, your very bad scrambled eggs. I love that you take up way too much space in bed and that you light candles to blow them out again and waste all our matches. Everything you do and say, I adore and treasure in my chest. So I hope that sums up what I mean when I say those words even though those few things are barely the beginning of why I love you.

Je’tadore

Je’taime

Other languages look so much fancier.

I need your laughter

I crave your voice,

I adore your addictive nature.

I don’t think I will ever be happier.

So once upon a time a girl punched a boy.

He thought her name was weird

And they fell in love.

A heart is what connects them together

And will forever more.

My heart is my life source

And it is yours to take from me.

I love you so much.

Ian.

The wind tells stories

Her wings fluttered gently in the wind as she stared at the bee. It was wondering through the air from flower to flower and she delighted in its ability to keep life flowing by just touching each and every flower with pollen. It was beautiful and strange. 

She had never experienced what people call love. She didn’t know many people though. Her skin was too iridescent and her wings too obvious for her to hang out with others not like her. Her eyes glittered with a strange violet tinge and she turned around. There wasn’t much to do but she loved it.

Her ideas were much more interesting to entertain. She saw something in the corner of her eye and heard rather than saw the movement. It was quick and she recognised her friend. It was the stone fox herself. She saw her mane of rainbow hair flowing and saw she wasn’t alone. It looked like she was dragging someone along the poor soul! She sang a note to catch her attention. Stone fox stopped and her new friend crashed into her. He wasn’t very elegant. But then again, standing beside her who could be? Her eyes stared into her violet ones and they journeyed through a few memories together and she smiled. 

“Hi Kit! Who’s your friend?”

Kit rolled her eyes. She didn’t see the need for speech but humoured her friend.

“He doesn’t know his name but I am calling him Jal. What do I call you at this moment? Have you changed your identity again?”

“I never change.” And she winked. “I go with what the wind whispers in my ear. Today is a very Viola day. To match my eyes I suspect.”

Kit nods her head and listens to hear if she can catch the winds whispering - alas that was not her area.

Her hair bespoke memories and adventure and the wind liked to fly by her while she ever tried to catch its stories. She suspected she moved too much to hear a full story. Too impatient for the story to tell. The wind often whispered slow meandering stories full of things she could not understand. Still moments that tended to mean something to only those who were part of it. She could not understand the small gesture of picking up a lady’s handkerchief as a whole start of something bigger. It made no sense; the subtlety of it. There was no time for subtlety in this short life. You want something, you need to catch hold of it and run head fast into the adventure of it all. 

She had of course learned nothing from this stranger, JAL, yet but she was still enjoying just running with him. His thoughts were scattered and everywhere but she calmed him with her own.

Viola looked between the glances they shared with each other and felt the wind catching at this moment to tell later. She enjoyed being part of the intimacy without being in it. It made her feel almost like she could catch what everyone else seemed to find. 

She smiled and closed her eyes while the 2 said goodbye and Kit skipped off with her boy.

Their happiness left a beautiful swirl of wind that she stepped into and twirled with. The feel of it made her want something like it so much. She knew it was impossible but she still wished with all her heart. She wished for the kind of love that consumed and where 2 became 1 together and there was no other but just an extension of yourself. And when you weren’t together it felt like half of you wasn’t there. 

Something touched her heart like a teardrop and her breath quickened and she couldn’t breathe. Something was amiss. She could hear the wind push a little closer to her and it felt squished like there was too much of it for how many people were in this world. It was getting more and more packed these days but this time something had changed...

Finding Your Other

There was a stone fox in her.

Her fingers breathed feathers and her clever eyes blinked and stars bloomed.

Journeys of memories fast forwarded and the twitch of her thumb turned it off.

There were too many memories to sift through.

But her mind was elsewhere.

Her wild nature was feeling a little tame and she had to run it off.

She sprinted and leapt through the long grass and weeds.

The field brushed past her in streams of sunlight and shadows.

Her touch was so light the grains of dirt she touched barely moved.

There was a newcomer.

And she sensed it.

The air shifted in sparks of excitement and the barely perceptible sounds of insects buzzed infinitesimally that much more that the vibrations of their wings felt shakier to the feel of her skin.

She went to reach for it with her mind but found nothing - like the strange emptiness which seemed to happen each time this occurred.

She had never been this close before so she quickened her pace so that she could reach out and comfort it like a child.

She wanted to teach someone new the way of the Stone fox.

There was no real definition but that she was clever and wild and had a mane of crazy thoughts flowing through the strands of her hair.

The glistening rainbow of ideas cascading through the air ever still and catching while her pace pulled her through.

She came to an abrupt stop as the wind she caught while running, swirled around her and past her. She saw the figure of a man looking around confused. Gently she pushed a greeting to his mind and he looked around in surprise. She approached slowly generating a gasp of breath from his lips.

He lifted his hand to his eyes to rub them and looked again. Her eyes never left him.

He could feel her and he didn’t understand how that was possible.

Her thoughts brushed past his short grassy blond hair. He couldn’t touch a single one but felt the beauty of something carelessly sure and wild.

She was the most raw beauty he could ever remember seeing - which, due to the lack of his memories, wasn’t saying much. However, he knew with certainty that he wouldn’t find anyone else like her and was grateful for the sight of her- his fingers itched to reach out and stroke her shimmering strands of hair.

Her eyes dared him to do something wrong and he knew not to mess with her. 

She approached him not hesitantly but cautiously. There was no doubt in her mind now that she wasn’t to teach but to learn.

Someone with no memories and past wasn’t to be filled with new ones but to teach her of the present ness of now

It boasted intimacy and naivety but also moments that were completely new. Not felt since being a child and experiencing the world anew. She wanted to learn the silence of this childlike mind. 

He felt her thoughts again leaping through different cuts of ideas. It excited him and he wanted to know every single adventure that she had partaken and knew he never wanted to leave her side.

His certainty startled him. He had no idea where he was and he was pretty sure he was usually quite certain  in the life before he could remember.

It was a blank journey that he wasn’t sure he wished he could remember. 

How did he get here?

He both felt that question directed at him and his own thoughts generate it at the same time.

He looked into her eyes and told her that he didn’t know without breaking the silence. 

She nodded. This was the way it would go.

She reached out her fingers and grasped his in hers and pulled him along at a pace he wasn’t sure he could match. He watched her mane of shimmery rainbow blonde hair gallop through the air as he stumbled along barely keeping up. He felt her thoughts always at the very edge of his own like she was holding his hand with her thoughts as well as physically. He felt the tug on both and it was a wave of tug o war between them- him weighing her down of course. 

Her pace slowed down and he caught up with a jumble of limbs barely keeping upright. She stopped and he looked around finally checking where they were. He couldn’t see over the long blades of grass all around them and he was thoroughly aware of how alone they were and how close he was to her. Her eyes darted back and forth and then stared back at him. He stared and found flecks of gold and shades of autumn leaves in her eyes. He reached out with his other hand and went to stroke her face and she leant into his touch and closed her eyes. 

He was amazed someone so wild let herself be so comfortable with him. She opened her eyes and they stared into each other’s eyes. She shared a memory from long time past. 

Her feet were cold and the snow had made it slippery for her to journey through. She started slipping and sliding as she went out onto the ice of a lake. She remembered feeling out of her depth and very unsure of how to be and wishing she had had someone with her to hold her and not let her fall. She eventually figured out how to glide across efficiently but the longing for another left an imprint in his mind.

He came back to now and pulled her close and held her in his arms though he knew if she didn’t want to be there she would run away in an instant -but she stayed. And he felt complete. 

New unwanted distractions

There's turmoil in my head

It feels amazing and it messes with

All the things I know to be right

And wrong and I can't help it

It makes me want more

And more and I don't want to stop doing

The things I know I shouldn't

It feels right but I know it's wrong

It calms me, overwhelms me, picks me up and makes me get swept away with the curling velvet waves and then creates war turning me up and over and upside down and

I don't know what to do to make it right

Because it goes over and over and over

Again and I can't stop the tumbler turning

And I can't end what I love

The Climb

Change isn't something that happens instantly. More a decision to change that does that. 

It seeps away at our very cores. The problems that plague away into us until we finally make the snap decision. I better do something about this! 

That's how Zoe felt this afternoon. A tide of emotions and issues that flooded her finally ebbed away with her final decision. And she forgot everything...

The star let her see into a world she had no knowledge of and no preconceived perceptions. She was a child and this world was her parent. It would teach her the ways and she would make many more mistakes but she would be free to make them without pressures of rules that were made up by millions of others like her. 

This world was different. There were no other humans around and the silence was very peaceful. She could hear much more in fact. Nature was overwhelmingly busy but also beautifully peaceful.

She turned and found herself facing a beautiful orange tree. The colours were lovely and welcoming against the warm blue sky. She wanted to reach up and take one. She was suddenly so hungry and she wanted to taste the sweet citrusy juiciness of that gorgeous colour.

Something jumped out at her though and startled her to the ground. The grass was soft under her touch and she recovered quickly. She found a strange little creature protecting some nuts. It had a little pile of them just under the spot she had almost trodden. She looked at it apologetically hoping it didn't try attack her again.  

She lifted a hand out to see if the creature might be friendly but soon realised it was facing its back to her.

She shook her head and slowly got up carefully avoiding the creature. She got to the trunk of the tree and tried to reach up to the first branch. It took a bit of a leap but she grabbed hold of it and managed to lift herself, her arms wobbling a little. She was exhausted after the first part of the climb and had to sit down on the branch.

She saw a few oranges but they weren't as ripe as the ones further up. So after a breath or two she climbed further. As she went up, the branches were a bit closer together and she found it easier to manoeuvre and came to an almost spherical brightly glowing orange. She wrapped her hand around it, tugged at the branch, then twisted it off and started peeling away the outer layer. 

Each peel she dropped to the grass like a finality that bespoke the end of the fruit's life.

She bit into it and it was all she imagined. The sweet bursts and pops of flavour filled her mouth and dripped down her chin. She found another and another and after 3  decided that was quite enough. 

She looked down and saw the orange peels far below her and felt a little dizzy. The climb had been easy when she was looking up but getting down was suddenly making her feel a little queasy. She gripped the branch she was on a little tighter and found herself calling out to see if anyone was around. She saw some small movement down below but realised it was the same creature she had seen before shuffling around with a few nuts. It was so tiny now and her head felt a little waver-y and slow. She quickly looked up and breathed slowly and then tried looking down again but the dizziness was getting worse.

Her fingers were slipping and her legs were unsure of what they were doing. There was something shiny glinting from in her pocket and she quickly grabbed hold of it and let go of the tree altogether. Instead of falling to the ground though, she floated down with the dazzling object in her hand leading the way.

Her body felt light as she ended up in the soft grass once again. She hid the star away in her pocket again and felt herself slip into dreams far beyond conscious thought. 

The little creature eyed her body suspiciously and then went back to collecting the orange peels to carry its stash of nuts. Later the creature discovered the orange peel had flavoured the nuts in an interestingly new flavour. 

The girl, it noticed, had disappeared as suddenly as she appeared and it wondered how it could find her and get her to drop some more orange peel again. 

Pretty Things

Pretty words litter ugly truths

while true words are hidden in

cavernous lockets that reside in

imaginations and secrets.

Floating or walking smoothly,

bubbles flutter in and out of existence

catching the sunlight without

delightful displays of naming

and pop without a sound.

Only the most fragile success

in impossible things (because

they need to; to experience something magical)

The delicacy of the almost broken 

shatter once pulled over

by the rocking motion of the sea.

It isn't to prove the extraordinary

but to live what little vivacity

that's left to them.

It is all they can do,

the shattered,

to understand what's true

and what isn't.

Perfection is Boring

Perfect Stories

Perfection is boring.

What ridiculous person would think it was what they wanted?

It isn’t anything but the thought.

Perfection is one of those words that don’t really make sense because it can be defined in so many different ways to so many different people. It’s an ambiguous word. Nothing is also another ambiguous word. So is normal.

What makes it ambiguous? The thoughts of philosophers is what. They say that the world could be completely in our head and not one bit real. If that is the case, why don’t I succeed all the time? Why am I afraid of things? Why do I seem to be defined by other people? Why do I care so much about other people’s opinions? It seems pointless. Philosophers, they have interesting ideas but that’s all they are. Ideas. What does it matter if it’s all in our own head? It affects me more than I want it to. Does that reflect on how much our brains affect us? I’m sure psychologists could find many different reasons as to why I am afraid of things even if it’s all inside my head. Or why I am so affected by my own mind’s creations. Is it possible that I could right now, be in my head and the real world is monitoring my subconscious brain wondering what was going on. It would be ultra confusing. But what’s real (there’s another ambiguous word) is that I’m here and this is what I’m making of it right now. It doesn’t matter what happened or what’s going to happen because they all were or going to be right now at one stage and that was the decision. You could examine why you’d done those things then at that time in that mindset but in reality it doesn’t matter. Maybe it might make you feel better but really the only thing that’s happening now is you.

I have a story, but it’s not the one I’m going to tell you about, I have another more interesting idea that’s going to take place here and it’s going to be exciting, new, interesting, maybe even funny. You may end up with a moral; you may not understand it at all. What you make of it is really none of my business. What I aim to do is to keep you interested by devices such as characterisation and magic. I like to use pictures as narration and quotes that feel meaningful, but are really empty.

***

Life was an interesting notion to Emma. Her celebration of it every year was joyous and all that but it didn’t change anything really except the number which indicated her age. She was only one day older than yesterday but somehow it was more significant than the rest of the days. It gave her a definitive point of reference when it came to the laws of drinking, and having sex.

She was in the library most of the day enjoying the latest book in her collections. It contained action, adventure romance, all the typical things she loved in a book. It transported her to a new world that always finished with happy endings and it didn’t matter what happened afterwards because they were happy just then and there in that moment. That’s what Emma wanted. She wanted something in a book to become real. There was a book where that happened. She had read it recently.

A knock on the door caused her to look up disappointed. Her mother poked her head around and the rest of her body followed. Emma silently remembered the page she was on and closed the book with a firm gentleness.

“Emma darling, we were hoping you would come out and enjoy your birthday cake and open presents with us.”

“Okay mum, just a moment.”

Her mother disappeared as quickly as she appeared and Emma sighed. She checked she still knew which page she was on and carried the book with her how a little kid would a favourite toy: hugged close to her chest, safe in her arms.

She was old enough now not to have the excited feeling you get when you open presents. She would miss that but that’s how life goes.

She walked slowly scuffing her feet with her fluffy monster slippers. The big furry craziness of them comforted her as she walked to a bright white kitchen with smiling adult faces and the big round birthday cake. The cake was royal purple and there was edible gold outlining the edges of the cake and shouting to her “happy birthday!” in capital letters. It was extravagant and expensive and it was beautiful. She secretly loved it and that excited feeling crept into her for a moment that didn’t last very long. Ruptures of out of tune singing (happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Emma! Happy birthday to you) forced a smile out of her, which she couldn’t stop. The out of tune slightly slurred voices were worse than an out of tune piano and she was quite relieved when the sound stopped even though it had made her involuntarily smile. She blew out the candles. Two of the flames remained and her parents kissed her on both cheeks at the same time. She rolled her eyes and everyone laughed. She blew again pretending she was the big bad wolf in the three little pigs story. The flickering yellow flame blew away in her breath and everyone clapped enthusiastically while the loud chattering of adults started up again. Her mother handed her a big silver knife that dully gleamed and she and her mother’s hands guided the sharp end into the royal purple icing and through the fluffy yellow insides. It touched the bottom and they slid it out. Emma tried to help with the next slice but her mother told her it might be easier if she did the rest.

A piece of cake sat in her lap and a spoon in her hand and she examined the lines that the cake contained. She thought it was like cutting a tree to count the rings that told its age. This cake had only three obvious lines and a few more once examined closely. Emma squinted making the cake blurry finding more lines. There was a line on the outside of the cake where it was holding the fluffy inside of the cake together (like skin, Emma thought), which appeared four times in the two layers. There was the icing, which had two layers, the purple and the gold which didn’t appear evenly throughout. Then there was the cream and jam in between the two layers of cake. That gave a total of ten lines. She frowned, she had hoped her analogy with the tree would be correct but it was only pretending to be like a tree. It was just something pretty to eat on a day where she coincidentally turned twelve. She sunk her spoon into the thinner end of the cake and let it sit in her mouth for a few seconds before she chewed and swallowed. It tasted delicious and perfect. It was the opposite of how she felt, how she always felt.

Back in the library she sipped a glass of lemonade and read her book. She had advanced twelve pages, and already the main character was venturing into the depths of mystery discovering things that Emma would never have discovered in real life. She knew what was in the main character’s head, where they were and why they were there. It was exciting to know the character’s own feelings and feeling them herself even though she couldn’t possibly feel anyone else’s emotions besides her own.

The developing relationship between prisoner and captor was building and Emma was turning the pages more eagerly. Her mouth couldn’t help smiling when captor and prisoner finally understood they were on the same side after a physical fight where one ended up on top of the other. Love followed and Emma’s smile widened.

It disappeared as soon as the library door was opened again. Her mother stood there making her presence known.

“What are you doing you silly girl? Come out and thank the guests for coming right now.”

“Yes mum.”

Emma’s eyes looked down sullenly and she memorised the page she was on. She closed the book, and left it on the chair and walked slowly out the door with her mother behind her. She decided that it might go faster if she quickened her pace and fast-walked to the door and fake-smiled with her mind still thinking about the adventures of her book and wondered what was going to happen next. All the while, she thanked the adults and smiled and accepted awkward hugs from a few of them. She reached out to shake hands with some person and instead bumped them causing them to drop their clutch. Emma jumped in surprise. Everyone stared at her amused, a few chuckling at her reaction. She quickly looked at her mother whose fake smile was still shiny and perfect. She picked up the bag and handed it back to the person and waved goodbye.

Once they were gone, she turned and faced her mother whose smile slowly faded.

“Mum, do you need any help cleaning up?”

“No darling, it’s alright.”

Emma left and her mother yawned. Her mother climbed the stairs to her bedroom to fall into her own fantastical dreams where the misinterpretation of a situation eventuated in the interesting events that led up to her meeting the man that she would fall uncontrollably in love with, Emma’s dad. 

The Ordinary Kind of Weird

I found a snake wriggling for its life. It wriggled this way and that and I found it fascinating. Then mum hit it with a shovel and there were two pieces of long wriggly bodies. Apparently it was poisonous and I was very close to it. I shook my head and sighed because she always did this. Always changed everything according to her own fears... NOT anyone else’s.

There was also that time where I was happily staring at a red frog that I was attempting to touch but it kept hopping away over here and there. She surprised me by suffocating it with a plastic bag right in front of my eyes, because it could’ve killed me. I used to think this was melodramatic.

I have come to realise the weirdness of mum’s worry was actually due to my proneness to fall into slightly increased accidental dangers. My life seems to be in more danger than I ever realised. Especially with my dangerous record. Only today there was a crocodile in someone’s backyard and I was about to sit on it when someone shouted and I turned away to see that someone was being mugged.

It really was quite interesting. I almost sat down on the crocodile thinking it was a log. It opened its big teeth filled log-like mouth and looked like it was yawning at me. I told it not to harm anyone else and then I left it trusting it to listen to me. Later I found out someone else had sat on it and it grabbed that person’s leg and yanked it right off. Poor guy.

I don’t really understand why these things happen, but I guess no one does. Life is just one big blur of life then death and no one knows after that I suppose. Not really anyway. God believers think one thing while the rest of us accept the inevitability of a nonexistence. It may be morbid but we are pessimists.

I am surprisingly optimistic for a pessimist. Cats like to meow at me sometimes and I at them. Sometimes we have conversations until the cat gets tired of me and walks away. Those are the peaceful times. Today I am making a milkshake with apples and ice cream and milk. I realise it isn’t a normal combination but neither is strawberries and cream and that is basically the same thing.

I sometimes feel like no one will remember me at the end and I will die with no one to hear the last words I ever mutter. So I have written it down and will keep it with me at all times just in case. I hope someone will find my last words and be affected by them. I’m not wise enough to write good words so I just use my own experiences of life and summarise them in one sentence. Every year it changes except for the three years in a row where it stayed the same. That was when my view was so narrow minded that I was too stubborn to know that I was wrong.

So, stories usually have dynamics but I have decided to tell you something not in chronological order because that is how our memories work. They are never in chronological order and are in fact brought about by other instances that remind us of something else. I sometimes wonder that if I can’t remember my childhood very well, how will I remember my teenage years. Remembering 20 years of life seems like a lot of information. Remembering 40years of life sounds hard so I take pictures and write down things more often than not. It captures the moment of how I feel about whatever at that moment and at least it will not disappear like memories. Unfortunately the brain isn’t full proof. I lost my memory once. But I only forgot about 3 days because I was unconscious for most of it. It all seemed a dream. I thought I would die then with the words Living is to die for in my pocket. That was the last year I had those words. Those words had stayed with me for 3 years in the ups and downs and the rain and the sunshine. It stayed constant in my ever-changing life.

Change is a bad thing when you’re a kid. My parents told me they were getting divorced when I was 8 years old and I didn’t understand the point when they were still together. Then one of them left but they always came back. It was as if they were still together because I saw them both equally as much as if I saw them before they were ‘divorced’. The logic of parents was ridiculous to me at that time but I went along with it and I wasn’t troubled or bad. I got A’s and B’s but I found out later they were marking me a lot easier because I was going through my parent’s divorce. They were actually meant to be B’s and C’s. It was the first time I had gotten an A so when I found out it wasn’t really because my work was outstanding I finally cried like everyone had expected I would. There were hugs and humour to try to get me to stop but they didn’t really understand why I was upset so I just went along with it and attempted a smile.

Smiling was hard for a time. I was in my 20’s and I had just realised that I need to start my own life. It was a time for first jobs and no one ever wanted to hire me. So I stayed solemn and faked smiles to employers for the one off interviews. I finally got a job at a fast food restaurant and dreaded the days I had to go to work. But I needed money so I kept applying for jobs and worked there as well. It wasn’t until I was 22 that I finally got a boring office job that required no experience. It was thrilling at first, but then I found out what I had to do and how much I would get paid. It was a little better though because there were fewer customers whose tempers were volatile. I had a lot of time to philosophise while I inputted data that numbed my brain. This is when I started writing my last words and putting them in my pocket. I had a lot of scrunched up paper in my wastepaper basket. Finally I found the right words. It was a miracle at the time but when I was that age, exaggeration was my thing.

Idiosyncrasies were unfortunately too frequent and annoyed even myself. If I heard myself say the same thing automatically a few times I would involuntarily shout in my mind. Sometimes the shouts were squeaks and then would turn into a cacophony of animals but most of the time it was angry and a little scary. I scared myself sometimes.

My sister would always scare me around corners and hiding in the dark. She was the master of making me jump spontaneously. She thought it was hilarious every time I did. She gave me the only thrills I ever got in life. Jumping off aeroplanes for fun and bungee jumping off bridges were all very well but I would never try it myself. I was too afraid of dying and that I would lose my last words and then I would affect no one.

I have travelled overseas but always to safe places. So India was definitely off the table. The army was something of a myth to me. Exercise and fighting were hardly ever involved in my life. I was very safe and checked both ways twice before I crossed the road. It was simple and easy and I was content with it.

I did always find birds trying to make their way into my house and I am still not sure why but I have nursed numerous pigeons, lorikeets, and minor birds from injuries they sustained crashing into my glass door. It was scary at first not knowing what to do with them and hoping you weren’t injuring them while you were trying to help them but in the end I just did it and they survived and never came back.

My girlfriend never came back. She was my first and my only girlfriend. She had the cutest smile and somehow always found me funny. We were together for 5 months. She wasn’t a looker but she wasn’t ugly. She was normal and liked me and that was a rare occasion so I took the chance and I fell in love. She did not and she left without a note. I knew she was unhappy for a few days but I never really thought she’d leave without saying goodbye.

That was a hard time in my life and it reminded me of when I couldn’t breathe under the sea and I don’t think I’m supposed to remember it but it was peaceful. It was a perfect combination of yin and yang. I felt desperate and peaceful and it was the first time I understood some poems I had read as a teenager.

A beautiful woman who looked like an angel rescued me. I asked her if she was an angel and she laughed and shook her head. I turned my head and coughed more water out and she was gone. I often fantasized about her in my daydreams but was always interrupted when things got good.

At the moment I blink a lot and sometimes mutter to myself unintentionally making people look sideways at me. I always feel weird when this happens and I go silent immediately. I decided to get a bird and surround myself with walls instead so my pet wouldn’t look sideways at me. Petrie my bird didn’t understand humans enough to know that what I was doing was weird. It was comforting being surrounded by no judgemental minds.

I recently decided to change my words to Life is worth living but then scribbled it out because I didn’t feel sincere knowing that I was not living the way people might think I meant the words to mean. So right now I am thinking of some new words and I think it will hopefully be original instead of corny.