Empty Coffee Cups

I'm home. I have been for a few days, but I'm back in the swing of my hectic Melbourne life and I must say, I love it. I ended up needing to get away from Sydney, - ironic really, a holiday from my holiday - after needing a holiday from life.

I appreciate the routine, and at times, the monotonous lifestyle. Getting up at 8:30, showering, putting on my uniform. I looked in the mirror this morning and saw the black suit, the black shirt and thought, 'Home.'

Sydney was scattered. I was scattered in Sydney. It was the perfect escape, and at the same time, the catalyst for me to realise who I need to be right now, an what I need to do. There are lots of commas in this entry. Forgive my poor punctuation.

Just changed my background. Green. How tranquil. I feel at peace sitting here in my bedroom, 1:30 am, playing Kelly Clarkson. My room. My computer. My music. It's been a long time. I'm still looking for Love. I need to take the pictures down from my heart. I can finally put up some new images. It's my life and it's up to me.

My room's not sorted yet. Still bits and pieces lying around. The housemates found the buttplug Maurizio gave me for my 21st. Please, as if. Clothes are littered around, lamp on the floor, Cambodian artifacts strewn. I need to organise my CD's into alphabetical order. I can't find shit. Where the fuck is my Veronica's album?? The house listened to my copy of Lauryn Hill's 'Miseducation...' tonight, and I almost cried. I couldn't stop thinking of her performance in Dave Chappelle's 'Block Party' of 'Killing Me Softly'.

//strummin' my pain with his fingers
singin' my life with his words
killin' me softly with his song

tellin' my whole life with his words
killing me softly with his song//

Had Product Night for work tonight. Drainer. Had to sit in a stuffy room with a bottle of water, trying to compliment Art on his not so fabulous summer range. White. Everything is white. Racist. Lol. We went to Pearl for drinks. Another fluff fest where I had to caution my words, making sure there was nothing they could pin me on in the managers meeting tomorrow. Fuckers. Uh. I love them, but hate them. Pearl is great. I might take BJ there while he's in town, though everything was deep fried for some reason, and it was a bit wanky Sydney. Perfect.

I'm up way too late. But I can't sleep. So much has happened in the last 48 hours, my life is spinning a million miles per hour. I'm glad i'm home to have a base. I wish I knew where I stand with everyone. It's funny how I feel so busy in silence. And the silence is deafening.

I miss Paulina too much. Never too much, sorry. I have to do the photoshoot for Imma's birthday tomorrow night. Freakin' crystals. Freakin' i-D magazine. Freakin' Beyonce. Ah well. It's gonna be at Eve... and then at 161, on the down low. So it's sure to be a good night. I need time to compose myself I think, which is probably why I'm sitting here typing at 2 in the morning.

Returned to work this morning, with a tonne of papers waiting for me, all disorganised, clumped in the back of the diary, which had fallen down from the shelf under the counter, because the shelf had collapsed...on top of the empty coffee cups and the coke bottle (which shouldn't even fuckin' be there anyway). It's so my life right now. So I had a great draining morning. This fucking i-Mac won't load up my photos, nor will it let me change the font size and stuff. It's fucked. Lol.

I wish the days would pass. I want the silence to end. I miss you.


PunkOnAir : Janet Featuring Q-Tip - Got 'Til It's Gone

It's 2:43 Wednesday 26.07.06, not 8 am. This computer is fucked.