Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Home
Sweet:-Hugging my grandma and dad.
-Talking to my dad about weird shit that no one else gets, and having him put his phone on silent for me.
-The ease and familiarity of being with the old gang
-The fact that old friends are a short tram ride away
-Speaking to said old friends without the use of a keyboard
-My yellow blankie (shuttup)
-Ballsy rain
Bitter:
-Conversations about people I don't know, places I haven't seen, catchwords I haven't been told about, events I missed
-The pressure to have 'quality time' all the time
-My own reluctance to engage in my friends' new lives because in two weeks it won't matter
-My friends growing to a new level maturity without me
-The twinge of imminent loss that shadows every moment of happiness
-The fact that the old gang is actually slowly splitting, and no one seems to be regretting it much
-The fact that when I return to Sydney my emotional survival mechanism will kick in and I'll forget to miss them and their voices and faces and laughs will fade into an emptiness that I'll ignore
Fuck, I both hate and love coming home.
# posted at 11:21 pm
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