around and over and under again

circular, elizabeth, circular, that's how you live your life, yes? yes? well, accept it and don't hate yourself, hell, you know it's narcissistic, you're the first to argue it.

my phone rings, and i ignore it, often. i like the silence. i'm nestled in the the nest and it is comfortably warm even if i have an unseasonable number of blankets piled over me. it's time to listen to 'casiotone for the painfully alone' because it makes me warmer, not that it's cold, no, i've said that.
my neck hurts a bit. i'm ignoring people. i'm overtired from sleeping too much. i'm finding things to do. i find conversation that excites me so rare and sweet and delicious and ripe and damp and sucks me right in so deeply and hard and solid and when i've had it, i'm left breathing heavily somewhere deeper, satisfied and yet now more hungry, that sort of paradox of something worthwhile you get every now and then.

the trees here have shifted. one of the few truly entrancing things about canberra is the seasons. the trees go from dead, to flickered with green, to full ripe green blooms so fast that it's hard to remember when it was dead and dry. there are these sudden, heavy storms that come in the morning, evening, night; surprising and gleefully heavy. the air smells sublime right now.

i had two lighters in brisbane, and i would light one with the other, only pressing down the gas and not the spark, moving the flames into each other, separating them, merging them... disasociated fond memories of my grandmother with cigarette burns in everything she owns. i dislike smoking simply because i want to, but feel obliged to resist out of knowing how vile mouth cancer is.

facebook updates from the last hour tell me there is a large storm in brisbane. ten or so friends have stated as much, and this makes me feel strangely delighted, that i see their weather through dinky little status updates. i get this strange communicative fragment through updates, and i have a little bit of sharing, and we have a little bit of touch through the internet, and touching often scares me until i'm breathing comfortably around someone and god, i want to go home.