When I once lived.

There's a part of me that has missing lately. I've spent months trying to put my finger on it. Have I really been happy? Am I laughing because I want to, or because I have to? Why am I tired? Why do I think about my life now and compare it to 3 years ago? 5 years ago. 20 years ago. I've many times been heard to have said, that change is about embracing something new, something exciting, unfamiliar territory, moving forward, and I need it to survive. Well why is it that now I fear change? I 'am' changing and I fear it the most. My world is changing. My friends. My mind and my body. And all I can do is reach into the past and grab my most treasured moments to assure me that I am me. I am popular. I am funny. Quick witted. I am creative and fluid and going to be fine. I'm basically needing to turn back a few pages to convince myself I'm ok, as a validation. It's sad I know, but years out of the humble nest and one now has been flying for quite some time, and maybe, just maybe it's time to rest. But I don't want to rest. I miss feeling alive. I miss my feelings when I am free. I want to fall in love every minute again. I need to love. I need to be loved. I miss kissing. I miss laughing. I miss endless summers and Jocelyn's lasagne. I miss eating healthy. I miss paint all over the floorboards and Molly shitting on my expensive rug. I miss the internet cafe and coffee at midnight, and the way it made me feel when I'd have mail from you. I miss jazz falling to sleep, and lettuce from my burger all in my bed. I miss drinking games in the sunshine, and how happy we all were to be free. And how snug we were at 5am climbing walls being monsters. I miss the great big tree in the park, and I miss Ollie on the brach underneath me. I miss posing in the steamy mirror under candlelight. I miss locking ourselves in the toilet and doing lines. I miss runs on the beach. I miss when michael laughed at the seagulls and the way he opened my eyes to beauty by distance. I miss Mr C and his groovy music. And crochered cardigan day for George. I miss moonlight romance with my best friend, and Miguel Migs driving over the Westgate. I miss Stacey staying 2 years over her Visa, and never coming home. I miss snapper's tight blacks , and the way he'd sing on one of our 'mornings'. I miss our San Pellegrino installation in the kitchen. I miss Young Turks being free tonight. I miss writing poetry on the toilet at the Dalton. I miss Ali dressing up as an Armish woman, and floating in David's pool. I miss Billy Idol tearing up Tuesday morning, and Jess calling an ambulance. I miss dancing like madonna at Lauren's place, and her telling me George sleeps with the blinds open. I miss kissing Nathan at Q Bar when he split up with his boyfriend. I miss losing my mind to The Cure with Caroline, and everybody walking in and catching me. I miss seeing 2 pounds of cocaine passed over the table to Jude over a quiet lunch at The Vineyard on a Tuesday. I miss hearing my nephew speak my name for the very first time and calling me beautiful. I miss Hannah falling in love with me and trying to rob me from Michael's arms. I miss Josh going red when when I spoke to him, and Hammo for being Hammo. I miss Casey for enlightening my life and kissing me the way he did after Pony. I miss Casey because he is my Martha Stewart, my Kurt Cobain, my sprinkles. I miss chapel street at 7am, and Andre sucking my toes in the dark. I miss sharing cigarettes in bed with Joss and Snap, and making stories up about the weatherman. I miss the gay prostitutes across from our house writing notes and putting them in my car. I miss Vic bar. I miss seafood at The Waterfront. I miss having connections. I miss dancing five nights a week. I miss never going to gym. I miss the way I felt when I was with him. I miss red wine in my hair. I miss lammington on my ear. I miss heroin at Kojo's. I miss the blossom at dusk in summer. I miss late night hot beverages. I miss the messages to get to us there. I miss getting nude in the beach and smoking indoors at bars. i miss being Jim Morrison. I miss waking up not knowing which suburb I was in, and not knowing anybody in the house, and having no money to get home and no battery. I miss driving to Rhett and Vick's and pretending I wasn't a raver. I miss falling down the stairs because Judy has fleas! I miss the tram, on your knee.  I miss life. I miss love. I still have a chance. I need to listen to Jim. He always makes me feel at ease.

Here are some photos from 2006. When I once lived. (to be continued)