some thoughts

this life is a game of russian roulette
where one never knows what one might get
ambiguity is fate's best friend,
his not-so-secret weapon, and there's no peeking
at how this story ends.
the most inexplicable poker face,
we're all running but is it even a race?
some chase answers,
some don't care,
and others still say the answers aren't there.
perhaps we're not ready to learn the truth,
perhaps we're too busy with arrogant youth.
and maybe, if we're really blessed
to reach an age of those wisest,
maybe then, we will slow down to smell the flowers
and realise that knowledge really isn't power,
one day when we discard greed and regret,
and learn to appreciate this life
that is a game of russian roulette.

scaring up a friend

isn't it funny how we struggle to keep our birthday party guest list at 50 people, because you can't possibly leave out any of your friends, but when it comes to scaring up a single friend to do something such as attend a class or go shopping with, you can't seem to find anyone? and this isn't even a bitter rant about friends deserting friends or not knowing who your real friends are, it's just a mildly intrigued observation. i don't really know why this, the aforementioned conundrum that is, seems to happen. perhaps it's because when we seek out a single friend to partake in a specific activity with, we are looking for the kind of friend we can spend some one-on-one time together without arguing or falling into any kind of mishap, someone that we're close to and can enjoy their company without other people having to be around. and maybe those kind of people don't happen to be available on the particular day we would like to spend with them, and then while we may very well have thirty other people we could call to join us instead, we'd really rather not. or maybe the 'other' people that we run through in our mind or our contact list come with strings attached to other people that we'd rather not have tag along on a day of tete-a-tete friendship fun, for example a boyfriend, girlfriend, other friend or sibling. the list of possibilities goes on. and as i hash out this riddle in my brain and on this screen, my fingers grow tired of typing and my mind wanders onto other topics which are less fascinating to blog about but more appealing to my slightly sleep-deprived mind. the end.

The golden goose and some food for thought

my grandmother, my mother's mother, is an immensely important and special person in my life. we grandchildren call her 'Ma', and she will always be Ma, just as the spare room in our house where she used to sleep when she stayed over will always be 'Ma's room', regardless of the fact that she hasn't slept there in years. Ma has been present in my life from day one, looking after me, telling me stories and making me crumpets. she has been watching Bold and the Beautiful since before i can remember, and will keep watching it for the rest of her life. she is my constant, a source of comfort. life may rush around me like a tornado, ever changing, at times too fast for me to keep up, but through it all, Ma remains the same; i take comfort in the fact that over my 18 years of knowing her, she has not changed in any drastic or unpleasant way.

Muriel 'Olive' King is a woman to be admired. i remember once, she wrote a story, her life story, entitled 'The story of Margret'. it was a touching tale, i remember reading it. it detailed the hardships my beloved Ma suffered in her earlier life, long before i knew her, however she never complained, rather, she accepted what life dealt her and kept her faith steadfast and her chin up. she lost a parent at an early age, and later in her life she had twin sons, only to have one die. she grew up amongst the racism of Apartheid South Africa, and in moving to Australia, she left half of her family behind. she has had hip and knee operations and recently recovered from pnuemonia. and yet, not once has she stopped trusting God, or being thankful that she is better off than others. Ma is not a tragic hero, just a mother, grandmother and friend, who gives love unconditionally. we arrogant young may think we know better than our elderly folk, but i believe there is a lot to be learned from someone like my grandmother.

on a less somber note, i have many happy memories from childhood that involve Ma, perhaps the majority of my childhood memories revolve around her. i remember the stories she told me while i ate my dinner - Jack and the Beanstalk, the three bears, little red riding hood, the three little pigs. simple tales that every child is familiar with, but for some reason they stick in my memory with warm and happy connotations. i remember the crumpets she always made for us, that we ate with butter and jam. and the colorful scarves she used to own, that as a child i would adorn my self with and parade around her little house. and the songs she still sometimes sings, about a camel's hump, mermaids, and sausages for breakfast. i remember lying on her bed next to her while she knitted or read, or watched bold and the beautiful. it was always the best thing, sleepovers at Ma's house.

there are so many more memories, far too many to list here, and i know there will be more to come. Ma is an inspirational, beautiful person. everyone i know and a lot of people i don't know all love her, she is forever making friends. i feel truly blessed to have this amazing woman in my life, priveliged to have her as my grandmother. i will finish with a song she used to sing to me.

"Mermaids, mermaids are we,

our home is in the deep blue sea.

all day long we lie on the rocks,

singing and combing our golden locks.

but don't come near,

or away we'll go,

away we'll go,

into the sea below..."

thought-provocation.

i just wonder, did they really return in five minutes?

and how are people to know, when they walk past the store, whether or not the five minutes have passed?

also, i just think it's rather endearing, the guesture of putting yp a sign like this.

in short, it made me smile.

Henry the Herron

what a marvellous weekend of Immense Fun i have had with my friends. 2 days of galivanting in the city, trams, walking until our feet hurt and then some, tequila and lemon, loud music, dating in the dark, dancing till 2am, japanese photobooths, outdoor cafes and falling in love with Henry the Herron, who lives on a bridge in Southgate, Melbourne. allow me to elaborate on that last part. we were crossing said bridge to begin our city adventures of well-deserved frivolity, when i spotted, on the other side of the glass wall of the bridge, a blue herron. he was sitting in the shade, presumably doing some people-watching, and he was polite enough to not fly away in fright when we stopped to take photos of him. i suppose he's used to such treatment, he had a certain celebrity quality about him. after a few moments of admiring this fine speciman, we christened him Henry and went on our way. several hours, some very sore feet and quite a few inside jokes later, we crossed back over what we now call 'Henry Bridge' and one of my friends wandered jokingly if Henry would still be there. so we walked slowly across the bridge and there he was, in all his adorable, celebrity-like glory, sitting in the shade. we took more photos and said our farewells, and i'm happy to say, the second spotting of Henry was the highlight of the weekend for me. i only hope i will see him again in the future.