Alone, exquisite

Some days it feels like a sunny afternoon in Melbourne as the season is turning.

I remember a day with that scent of smoke and winter in the air. I sat hungvoer with a boy no longer mine, playing cards in the sunshine, feeling like I was happy.

Contentment -- achievable only in the certainty of change approaching?

Now I'm alone with the light outside beckoning but nowhere to go.

And I'm wondering if it's possible to wrest my life into a more pleasing direction without it feeling like a task I'm not equal to.

I remember Sunday afternoons by myself in a shitty share house. Music poignant to me as the wind ruffled over the grass and industrial wasteland that was Sydney Park. Clouds throwing shadows on a slightly depressing vista. Waiting for my world to begin.

It's led me here and there's no going back. I feel hesitant about the next step forward though. Seems like it's getting too late to make another wrong decision. Drifting along is not an appealing option either.

Where's that magic switch that makes it happen? Or am I slowly building something that I'm only dimly aware of. I wish I knew...