i swear i'm not dead

I have been so out of it lately. Everything is spinning around me, and I decided at the last minute to actually move to America. What an experience that was.

The book is going to be published sometime next year. I've went through with it. It's a bit of a big deal for me because I've been writing this novel on and off since I was at uni. I never thought it would take me this far, but it has. It's so different from the original concept but it's still something near and dear to my heart and I'm glad that I kept it around.

There's something so different about America, and I don't mean in the change of the weather or the people. It's just...fascinating. The air is different, the wind blows at another angel and San Fransisco is filled with such vibrancy it leaves my fingers itching to write.

It leaves me whole.

Sometimes I feel a tad lonely. Sometimes I feel as though maybe I will live the rest of my life on my own. There's a part of me that is alright with that. That's okay with the idea of solitude. But there's something deep down, between a crack of realism and dreaming that makes me feel sad and broken that I'm alone. I try not to be a tragic person. I try to be helpful, and tucking away the fact that I am so blessed with my friends and family helps me through these moments.

But sometimes, just sometimes, when I see the couples on the streets holding hands, I whisper in my ear i wish that was me.

And so it is.

Whenever I watch a movie the first thing that always gets me are the colors. Cinematography is a huge deal for me, and I love those movies that have large amounts of saturation and hues. I was reminded of this this afternoon when I went into town and there was a small festival walking about. The costumes were so bright and bold, all primary and simple. A man was walking around with bright red cheeks and a bundle of red balloons. I love red, it reminds me of so many things. It's like a flood of memories emerge whenever I see the color red.

Some people associate their memories with various things: noises, smells, touch. I see memories in color.

Let's start with my life.

Right now I am overwhelmed with work. I've been talking to my manager lately who has been telling me that I really should consider moving to America. But there is something about Australia that is home. It's my land, it's the place that I have grown up with. I am used to the seasons here, the changes of the air. There's a dialogue that we are all used to, one that I've become accustomed with after 25 years, and yet, I'm still being stretched away from it.

The manager suggested that I would try California. It's probably the closest thing to Australia than Hawaii, and yet, there's something that is very inviting about that. I think that maybe I need a new air and new seasons.

Some seasons never change.

An old friend came to visit me this last weekend. It's strange how everything falls back into place as though it was the first time, even if there is a difference in scenery. I missed him very much, and I was glad to see him face to face. I felt nervous at first, concerned that things would feel awkward. It can happen sometimes, that strangeness, that need to connect with someone that you used to know so well. We would talk on the phone all of the time, almost daily, and I realized that grew so accustomed to his voice that his face was nearly a blur.

We sat in my living room, mostly in silence and everything was very, very quiet. I didn't try to strain for the familiar need of noise, but rather closed my eyes and continued to emerge in silence.

I've found that old roads and new roads always intertwine with each other. Coming to realize this is apart of the journey.