It's been a long time since I spent the evening in my room, keeping company only of myself and my thoughts. Possibly because it is a potentially dangerous situation: a disquiet mind, when stripped of distracting noise, looks for other areas to occupy itself with. Goodness knows there's enough dark twisty areas in here to use and take advantage of.
I'm restless. I'm like a little kid on christmas eve: I want it to be tomorrow so badly I can't sleep. So, instead, I'm drawing. Compulsively. Obsessively.
I have a muse, now. I have my faith back, and passion.
Alas, still no white oil pastels.
In lieu of that, I'm left with textas. Yes, those fat washable, non-toxic Crayolas that you give 2 year olds. Little compares to the child-like excitement of buying and using instruments of ones childhood.

Eyes Wide Shut.

Had I seen this rule 6 months ago I wouldn't have believed it. If I'd seen Rule 6 ...

I would have thrown my computer across the room: nobody wants to know they're not wanted.
However, 185 days, 6 sessions and many many tears later, and I see it: the good in goodbye, and the good in not being wanted. 
Sometimes you get so stuck in a routine that you forget that there are other things out there: this isn't all there is. There's more to life than being miserable, clinging onto something that 1. Died months ago, and 2. Wasn't really deserving of your precious time or effort in the first place.

Found out last night I was half the reason Mike came back to Adelaide from Queensland. The guy is like the make lead in a chick flick, playing out in my reality. The cynic in me whispers in my ear not to be swept away with words, but the sincerity in those eyes makes the little workers in my head stop laying bricks and set down their trowels and mortar. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop: nothing is ever this good without a catch. What goes up must come down, .... right?

But then I think, at what point do we start thinking like that, though? How much disappointment must be endured before everything has to have a bad side attached? Sure, everyone has their less.... personable... side. But things can be all good, can't they? I have a hard time believing it. Maybe because some inner alarm system is threatening me with the reminder of what happens if you wander blindly into situations akin to a  venus fly trap.

I guess the solution is to tread carefully, and to have faith in the hand that leads you. Enter through the doorway with eyes wide shut.

I brain you.

Is this actually a decision?
The heart is a muscle. It is a mass of cells that pump blood around the body.
The brain is also a mass of cells. But, by some miracle, the combination of neurons created consciousness. It creates feelings, emotions, seemingly unique to human beings.
So, when you're in two minds aobut listening to your head, or your heart, really, it's a battle that looks more like this advert from Mercedes Benz..

I find that if both sides don't agree, youre almost certainly wasting your time. Well, I am.

And although it's sweet to say 'I heart you', or the ever popular 'I <3 U', I see a particular beauty in this...

It's like saying 'I'm attached to you because I am better when you are around. You make everything better' It's logic meeting and befriending your feelings, and agreeing with them, because everything makes sense.

I just got lucky that I met someone that makes sense like this.
I am a cynic, a pessimist. I see the end of things before they begin. Then he walks in and I'm being forced to reconsider the possibilities. All of them. And it's terrifying, and exhilarating. It's a blast of cool wind on a hot day, gives me goosebumps and leaves me smiling and thinking that maybe, oh just maybe, I've found something that surpasses the ordinary, and sits in the realm of the extraordinary.

Christmas. Again.

Normally a Grinch, I've discovered that christmas shopping tends to burn away my meanie greenie facade and replaces it with solid helpings of red and white. So, naturally, with 2 days to go, and a reason to celebrate this year, I'm bouncing around the house, spending exorbitant amounts of money on presents and getting into the general festive spirit.

I even taught myself to sew (kinda). Yes people, be shocked.
After a drunken wander through the East End of Adelaide, I saw a beautiful dress in Dangerfield that I just couldnt forget about. So, naturally, I went back (sober) and bought it.

Of course, I'm nowhere near that tall, so it sits at my knees, leaving me feeling a little like a 50's housewife. HOWEVER, well and truly getting into the spirit of things, I decided it needed fluff. White fluff. Tell you what - I've never owned a cat. I can now appreciate the concept of hair on every surface possible.
So, it now looks like this....

Admittedly, It's held together with safety pins, but I thought I did a good job :)
Add a super fluffy santa hat to it, and I'm aiming to blow the top off the cuteness thermometer. (yes, it's lame, but then, I'm a bit lame, and its christmas!!!!!)

The day itself won't hold much in the way of a house packed-out with guests - its always a small gig: 3 grandparents, 2 siblings, 2 parents, and 2 dogs. Still, it's enough to cause utter mayhem.
I dont think I've been this excited for christmas day since before I knew santa wasnt real (sorry kiddies for spoiling it. on the up-side, milk it for all its worth outta your parents!).
Probably cause I have a boy and family to share it with. I'm finding this especially important, now more than ever. And yes, I'm materialistic in my over-spending. It's my way of showing them I love them when my words fail me (rare, but possible).

When I grow up into a fully-fleged adult, and move out, I'll have christmas at my house. There'll be grandparents through to children, and it will be insanely crazy, but it'll be the only time I see some people, I'm sure. So, as I grow older and wiser, I am beginning to understand the real beauty of christmas: family - the laughs, lame jokes, and tears. The food, the hugs hello and hugs goodbye. They won't last forever, it's important to remember them when they happen, so that when those you shared them with are gone, they will never be forgotten.

That's my meaning of christmas.