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  • Autumn, planting jonquils, moving a Teracotta pond to the navel of my front yard veggie garden. It is surrounded by spinach seedlings and some beardy thyme. Soon it will probably just be a high point in an Anathem tangle.
  • Dug up a eucalypt seedling from the driveway and potted it. Hoping it will survive the shock so that we can start guerilla gardening our park.
  • I have a small oak tree from an acorn at my Nana's house. It has outgrown it's pot and is also waiting for me to get brave enough to venture across the road with a shovel.
  • On the weekend Kim and I collected timber from Jenni's yard and adopted a cast iron bath. We have had a couple of tries at getting it level under the rain water tank outlet, but need to have another go (now that we have a spirit level). Polly swims even now in the chill of Autumn. We have an old cattle trough that she squidges into, but it is divided in two, so the full bath will be much more luxurious.
  • I went to a gardening and environmental evening with my mother and sister. A Squirrel Glider, looking much like a Sugar Glider but about the size of a Ringtail Possum climbed on my coat and made me wonder if I could be a fauna rescue person. The Ringtails at the event were happily munching on rose petals. I remember that my mother's espaliered yellow roses are also headless due to possums. We have stoic old roses along the back fence so have some first resources for possum rescue.
  • I am scouting through Jenni's backyard forest for a nice straight branch. She has her pots and pans lofted over her bench on a hanging branch and I think it could be a nifty way to save some space for table cloths and teatowels and such. I remember seeing an elaborate lofted pan array in the film Color Purple, but think a single stick solution is about my size.
  • Found a moth's transitional sarcophagus in the park.
  • Kim and I sat on the front step with hot drinks, a lad came to the door promoting Save the Children. I am thinking of potting up herbs for their fundraising shop.
  • Tomorrow is International Midwives Day. I would like to write something supportive. Midwives are getting a hell time in Australia at the moment. Kudos to New Zealand healthcare system which is much more supportive of women who want to birth at home and have midwife support.
  • Watching people in a WIPO mail list considering ideas such as 'self-piracy' makes my head hurt.

We build flat-packed furniture
hoisting and screwing
Chinese food boxes open on the chairs.
(The chairs were first)
Now we are building a table.
Our pile of white mod boxes slowly shrinks.
Whoever heard of an étagère anyway?

I know this will seem so pathetic and lame, all this bunch of mumbo-jumbo about "How difficult Life is at 22 Springs old", or maybe a better wrap-up could be: "Enough with the all the Love-stuff, already !", but to one person, it's actually vital...

Being caught-up in intensely burning thoughts, keeping you awake much better than any Amphetamines, torturing you every second of your miserable life and making all that noise inside, making it impossible to deal with your daily schedule, kinda sucks. Big Time.

It's the simplest, yet most complicated mental issue. It's about making choices. Choices that

YOU,alone, have to make, without anybody snooping around and giving you distorting or misleading ideas. It's completely your decision.

It's crazy enough that you have to deal with it by yourself, but to have nobody to talk to?! I must have upset Somebody Up There, for going through this right now.

So, what shall I choose? Clock is ticking, there are no more places to hide, no more excuses to come up with, no more avoiding, no more playing hide-and-seek behind a curtain of "pretending-not-to-see". Time has come for me to stop chasing my own tail in this merry-go-round of us.

It's either this, or that. It's quite clearly. Theoretically speaking. But on being forced to face up with it, I'm not sure of anything, anymore.

Maybe it's not too late to pretend . Not too late to get off the carousel, because it's only at the very start of it's ride.For now. We still got time to run and hide behind our walls. At least I would be so disappointed to have built such a great masterpiece of defense against feelings, it would be a shame to just let it crash and collapse.

I know. I know all the facts about living a dull, anesthetized life, tasteless and gray. But, maybe, it's just easier to live surrounded by an anti-feeling capsule and barb-wired electrified fences around your heart. Being a total vegetable could spare you the havoc of life-long achievements driven apart, broken, shattered and destroyed. But, would you enjoy it?!?

Would you, honestly, enjoy it ?!?

Isn't life about all the small pieces of laughter and joy put together inside your heart, so that every time you cry, you would remember how comforting it is to actually be happy? But truly appreciating the value of the best moments, is possible only by having something opposite to compare them with. If you would never cry, how would you know the real value of joy? How on Earth will feel that joy ?!

Would it even feel ?

Sometimes, a certain moment in time really fills you with vibrations and gives you color-vision. You can never know that, unless you cried your guts out on the floor, for a given number of times. It's like having just one set of tasting buds on your tongue. You would never know how chocolate tastes like, if you can only perceive salty taste...

So there. I kinda spilled it out of my torn chest. If I read it right now, it's clearer than dew-drops on a sunny April morning. Choosing should be piece-of-cake...

But, then again, I agree with both hypotheses. And, what is there to do, when you can't just dissociate yourself in 2 halves, each one making the right choice ?

Gosh...

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