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  • Mazzaville Blues

    Moved back into my old flat yesterday. It has given me the freedom I've craved since moving back with my parents but at the same time, it takes me back to when DK first left for the UK. My mind is filled with the great sadness and pain I had felt back then even though I know that we are still together.

    Waking up alone in the flat, going to all the shops we used to go to, having my Sunday ritual hash browns for breakfast takes me right back to all those years ago where I used to spend hours crying and not knowing where my life was going. Needless to say, I am not sure how healthy this is. Maybe I just need time to settle in again.

    Another question is why I feel so sad to be back home. I am no longer cold, I have friends to talk to and to see yet I don't feel right. I'm finding my life back here extremely stressful and as a consequence I am not looking after myself very well. I have gone back to my routine of getting drunk in order to sleep at night, looking around to see if I could perhaps bring someone home so that I don't wake up alone.

    Maybe I need to see a shrink.......

  • Why is this so?

    Why is it that you always end up getting text messages from people you don't really want to hear from but never hear back from the one person you actually want to hear from?????
    How annoying!

  • Random thoughts

    Back in Sydney for three months. A long story as to why I'm home for so long away from DK. I'm staying positive about it despite my visa worries.

    It's raining over here and for some reason I don't find it as depressing as the frequent rain in Scotland. Rain over here has a calming affect, where everything seems so peaceful and at ease with nature. I don't grumble and wish for the sun, I look out the window with a hint of melancholy.

    I'm yet to decide on how I feel about being home. Before I left the UK I knew that I wasn't ready to come home, I felt as though I hadn't achieved enough and worried that I may have romanticised home too much and my "paradise" would be shattered brutally by reality.

    Sydney is a funny place. When you are away, you miss it desperately. You miss the weather, the cafes, the local hangouts but the moment you get back, you realise the sun is way too strong, the local hangouts are filled with the same old people and changing in a direction which you don't like. After a week or so, you are itching to get away again. All of a sudden, the wind and the continous rain in Scotland don't seem too bad, the lack of friends and never leaving the house seem ideal and the incomprehensible Scots, amiable.

    I wonder if I no longer have a "home", a sense of belonging. I have struggled with my identity for so long and had wished that by travelling I'd find myself, and for a while, I was sure I had found myself and that Sydney was my home. Now I am not too sure...

    Maybe this is what everyone feels when they return from travelling. Maybe home is supposed to be a fickle place; a place with which you have a love-hate relationship.

    I never thought I'd say this but I do really miss Edinburgh, and wish I was back in my tiny flat with DK with a few froggers and a few cans of beer, watching QI, waking up the next day, complaining of the cold, having breakfast at the Roseleaf, then listening to football on the radio and ending the day by watching Match of the Day on BBC 1.....

  • Paris.........

    Puupy Dog(PD),a student of mine from Edinburgh, invited me to come and stay with him and his friend in Paris. At first, I wasn't sure whether to accept the invitation but after much discussion about my past experiences of visiting students and reassurance from PD, I decided to take the risk and go. Besides, it soundsd much better than being alone and miserable in dreary Glasgow.

    I arrived in Paris with much trepidation. I was thinking that my stay was too long and I would end up having an awful time. I began to feel really stressed and panicked. Luckily, I was mistaken.

    After dropping off our bags at Zen man's flat, we went and had dinner at a wee restaurant and had a few drinks at the bar. By the time we got back to the flat, the long day(I had left Glasgow at 330am) had taken its toll and after a few more drinks I was out in a flash.

    Although I have visted Paris many times, I have never done all the trashy touristy things like walk up the Eiffel Tower, go on the Bateau Mouche along the Seine, hop on the red bus taking endless photos of the Parisian landscape. So before I left, I had a list of things I wanted to do and see in Paris and I figured the most logical place to start would be by going to the Eiffel tower first.

    On my way, I found myself hypnotised by Paris and ended up wondering around for hours instead. By the time I finally reached my destination , it was time for me to go and meet A, a friend from Sydney who happened to be in Paris at the same time. I am just such a crap tourist!

    Met up with A and we were taken on a walking tour by a friend of his. Once again, Paris overwhelmed me and I was beginning to relax. My time with A was short but sweet. It's always good to catch up with friends even if it's only for a couple of hours.

    That evening another friend of PD, Curly Wurly,joined us at the flat. Puppy Dog cooked for us and we sat around drinking wine and talking about this and that. This was also when I realised how rusty my French was! It was so frustrating to realise how much I had forgotten and how difficult it was to express myself. I could also hear that my accent had slipped quite considerably.(note to self:practise french!)

    It was my second last day in France and we were going to stay with Puppy's friends in the countryside about an hour away from Paris. We all hopped on a train and went along and once again, I was welcomed with open arms and felt comfortable. So much so I decided to change my ticket and stay longer.(Unheard of!, I'm always itching to get back!)

    The next night, all his friends came over for dinner and after consuming copious amounts of cheese and wine, I became more confident with my French and stayed up all night chatting away in Franglish.

    If there's anyone out there who still believes in the streotype, "the Fros are arrogant", I can assure you, they're one of the most friendly bunch I have ever met in my life. They welcomed a stranger (i.e.me) into their homes and made me feel so comfortable I felt like I had known them my whole life. New friends were made and I feel confident that I would remain friends with them, especially the three musketeers, Puppy Dog, Zen Man and Curly Wurly.

    We came back to Paris on Saturday and I spent the weekend chilling out with Curly. When it was time for me to leave, I didn't want to leave.(Besides, I hadn't actually done anything on the list!!!!) But all good things must come to an end and with much regret I left Paris once more, promising myself I'd return very soon with my list.

    I thank them all from the bottome of my heart for an unforgettable week. I was actually happy for the first time in a while and it has made me want to get my act together and try to get a job over there.

    A bientot Paris!

  • Confusion

    I am confused about everything in my life.

    How does one find answers?

    I've spent the whole day around people yet I feel isolated and lonely. what else must I do?

    I want some answers damn it. I'm sick and tired of being lost...... where is my life going? What have I got to live for?
    MY mother blames me fpor my fahter's affair, I am with a man who doesn't love me, I don't have a promising future. I feel like a complete failure and I wish I could dig a hole and hide for the rest of my life.

    Bloody hell, my depression is back.

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