I have a lethological relationship with the English language due to a pretty big bout of amnesia I had caused by a cocktail of way to much medication. Therefore my blogs are never as poetic as I'd hope they'd be or even tell the story I mean to.So as you can imagine when memories come flooding back every now and then it's quite an experience.
I've been a little melancholy for the past few days. After this strange high I was surfing over a few weeks it was bound to happen. As we all know what goes up. . .
Maybe I'm not even sad, It's possible that all I'm really experiencing is nostalgia. By some strange coincidence I have recently visited many suburbs that I lived in. This is quite a feat because I used to move house every 6 months to a year so to suddenly be thrust into my past again and have it all rush back at me was quite disturbing.
After a coffee in Elwood which was a nice place to live apart from the fact that I had to resuscitate two junkies that had over dosed on my doorstep and a third we didn't get to save down stairs. It was on to St. Kilda where I'd also lived for a while. I liked St. Kilda as well apart from the philistine bullshit bourgeois mentality of the people visiting the "trendy" suburb. It wasn't so much the locals more the people who would come down for a coffee on Acland street which is where I'd have to go to get my paper and bread in the morning, I guess I felt judged by the poodle carrying, high fashion latte sippers who were invading my suburb and making it difficult for me to go about my daily routine. Then strangely of all places I ended up at a pub in Carnegie, Which anyone who lives in Melbourne would know is not really a place you go "out" to. Carnegie is a strange place for me, It's the place I was living when I first got diagnosed Bi-polar, I still have many great memories of the place, it was a wonderful little community.
Anywho when we left the pub I had a strange urge to go to Williamstown, the site of my last home. Willy is the only place I ever lived where I really felt at home and leaving there was quite sad for me. I knew the house I was living in was going to be demolished when I moved in, it was just a matter of time, firstly the family who owned it where having trouble with getting permits from the council and being a young family money was all so an issue. The time came and I received my notice to vacate and did so with a heavy heart.
Going back (at 2 in the morning) was a bitter sweet experience. sweet because well the house is still standing and it really is a treasure, it needs a lot of work but I think it's worth it. bitter because there were lights on inside, now I don't know if someone is living there or if they forgot to turn the light's off while working inside either way it's hard to pass by a place that was so wonderful and not have access and know that somebody else does.
What make's this whole thing even more difficult is the fact that I really don't have a home at the moment. I'm staying with a friend until I work out where to go to next. But I'm not settled and it's possible that somebody else is settling where I want to be.
Lada
I've been a little melancholy for the past few days. After this strange high I was surfing over a few weeks it was bound to happen. As we all know what goes up. . .
Maybe I'm not even sad, It's possible that all I'm really experiencing is nostalgia. By some strange coincidence I have recently visited many suburbs that I lived in. This is quite a feat because I used to move house every 6 months to a year so to suddenly be thrust into my past again and have it all rush back at me was quite disturbing.
After a coffee in Elwood which was a nice place to live apart from the fact that I had to resuscitate two junkies that had over dosed on my doorstep and a third we didn't get to save down stairs. It was on to St. Kilda where I'd also lived for a while. I liked St. Kilda as well apart from the philistine bullshit bourgeois mentality of the people visiting the "trendy" suburb. It wasn't so much the locals more the people who would come down for a coffee on Acland street which is where I'd have to go to get my paper and bread in the morning, I guess I felt judged by the poodle carrying, high fashion latte sippers who were invading my suburb and making it difficult for me to go about my daily routine. Then strangely of all places I ended up at a pub in Carnegie, Which anyone who lives in Melbourne would know is not really a place you go "out" to. Carnegie is a strange place for me, It's the place I was living when I first got diagnosed Bi-polar, I still have many great memories of the place, it was a wonderful little community.
Anywho when we left the pub I had a strange urge to go to Williamstown, the site of my last home. Willy is the only place I ever lived where I really felt at home and leaving there was quite sad for me. I knew the house I was living in was going to be demolished when I moved in, it was just a matter of time, firstly the family who owned it where having trouble with getting permits from the council and being a young family money was all so an issue. The time came and I received my notice to vacate and did so with a heavy heart.
Going back (at 2 in the morning) was a bitter sweet experience. sweet because well the house is still standing and it really is a treasure, it needs a lot of work but I think it's worth it. bitter because there were lights on inside, now I don't know if someone is living there or if they forgot to turn the light's off while working inside either way it's hard to pass by a place that was so wonderful and not have access and know that somebody else does.
What make's this whole thing even more difficult is the fact that I really don't have a home at the moment. I'm staying with a friend until I work out where to go to next. But I'm not settled and it's possible that somebody else is settling where I want to be.
Lada
