Sharing my journeys through words/film/digital
Pieces of my self are scattered throughout:
Right this very second I am sitting in my humble little white-tiled room in a country that I don’t really know anything about. It’s 12.40 am, and I have no plans on sleeping anytime remotely soon, but it’s not like I would anyway. Looking out my window I see series of lights hovering in the outlines of condominiums, a highway and it’s overlapping overpasses, cars and motorocycles, a pool, an empty basketball court and several palm trees. I’m on the 8th floor of a 21 floor building located just outside the grounds of a University. This is my home for the next 5 months, and whilst I’m loving every breath being here, there’s nothing like reverie and the fleeting nostalgia that comes when you’ve got a cup of earl and a cigarette, you’ve just finished watching a fabulously thoughtful movie with three people you met literally 4 hours ago, and have just started listening to that new music you downloaded before you left your own country because you knew that the internet would be practically non-existent in the country you were travelling to- and that music makes you fucking hate the world, and then love it, and then hate it, and love it all over again.
Anyways, I just felt like saying ‘I love you’ to all of the people who have, by some luck, or chance (or destiny), stumbled into my life- especially those who have been there through and through and through like my soft toy british bulldog named gompostreis gopalenastamaria (don’t ask, but he is my best friend and oh i love him to the end of the earth and beyond), and who I can just feel have their arms wrapped around me at all moments in time. Those who love me unconditionally- I love you unconditionally and more. Thank you for being you and making me me and just being.
Oh and I bought swimming goggles today and they are glorious
And I’m wearing them as I write this
Guess I could call them writing goggles too then
I wonder if I could get proper lenses put in these and wear them like normal glasses?
"It’s impossible to feel true unconditional love for any single person, until you can feel it for every single person. After all, what differentiates them, except conditions?" - Mike Dooley - More Notes from the Universe (via klairvoyante)
The past week I’ve felt a bit like Theodore Twombly, minus the moustache but with the same amount of confusion. Reflecting on the past two years I’ve lived in Melbourne and spent with him- that confusion has evolved into a feeling of empowerment, clarity, and purpose.
On Monday I said goodbye to the person I know the best on this earth, the person who respected me, who loved me through and through and kept me safe in our own little blissful, peaceful world. Who taught me to look through my innocence and see that the world is beautifully shit, whilst making me realise that I have the confidence, strength and power to change it to be just beautiful.
There is so much that I want to write about him, so much I want to say, but he is the only person I want to share my thoughts with, because he is the only one who understands. He is the only person that I can trust wholeheartedly, a friend that I will have for life, and a lover I am eternally thankful to have had.
Instead of being totally lost and confused (as per usual when I come out of a relationship) I feel prepared to take on the world full throttle. I know what I have to do, who I am, and where I am going, and there’s no looking back. Fuck low self-esteem and wasting time, fuck being needy and insecure like 3/4 of the women my age. I have nothing to be insecure about! I’m 22 years old, free, intelligent, thoughtful, kind… and yes I’m going to brag about the good qualities I think I have because speaking low of myself can fuck right off… Negativity can fuck off. Haha I love this feeling- and all thanks to you, my love.
"The atoms of our bodies are traceable to stars that manufactured them in their cores and exploded these enriched ingredients across our galaxy, billions of years ago. For this reason, we are biologically connected to every other living thing in the world. We are chemically connected to all molecules on Earth. And we are atomically connected to all atoms in the universe. We are not figuratively, but literally stardust." - Neil deGrasse Tyson
”During the first days of his new wandering life, the first greedy whirl of regained freedom, Goldmund had to relearn to live the homeless, timeless life of the traveller…
Obedient to no man, dependent only on weather and season, without a goal before them or a roof above them, owning nothing, open to every whim of fate, the homeless wanderers lead their childlike, brave, shabby existence…”
-“Narcisse & Goldmund”, Herman Hesse-
"Compassion hurts. When you feel connected to everything, you also feel responsible for everything. And you cannot turn away. Your destiny is bound with the destinies of others. You must either learn to carry the Universe or be crushed by it. You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors." - Andrew Boyd (via kindness-revolution)
"Although I am a typical loner in my daily life, my awareness of belonging to the invisible community of those who strive for truth, beauty and justice has prevented me from feelings of isolation." - Albert Einstein (via kindness-revolution)
"This is the sadness of the sea -
waves like words, all broken -
a sameness of lifting and falling mood." - William Carlos Williams (via fernsandmoss)
This is the tomb of a holy Muslim man in Fatehpur Sikri, just south of Agra.
This day was a typical ‘India’ adventure. One of those days that you begin by going with the flow, and are thoroughly enjoying until India decides it’ll chuck a good few spanners in the works. One of those days that you have to totally let go, otherwise India would drive you insane…
We’d gotten up early and jumped on one of the first buses there from Agra with an adventurous day on the horizon. When we arrived in the little town below Fatehpur Sikri, we were actually suprised, as what we thought was going to be just another Indian dust ball of a town, turned into being a very welcoming and interesting village. We had brunch with the locals in a little mess hall, a few of whom we conversed and laughed with for a little while, some of which had only a few hats. Those men’s smiles somehow stick in my brain, and I still remember the crisp white, yet slightly dust parched Nehruvian caps that each of them wore. We continued to walk and found the local markets; a tight and wonky laneway, with sweet and vegetable stalls on either side, which seemed to narrow as you walked on, not only because of the uneven road but because of the numerous cows and characteristic goats, which were obviously on the search for whatever juicy snacks they could lay their slobbery tastebuds on.
When we’d finished galavanting amongst those freshly deep-fried galebis, we made our way up the steep and curving road to Fatehpur Sikri. The rest of our time wandering and sitting within the walls of this 16th Century Mughal Mosque and Palace (now UNESCO World Heritage Center) was spent with children (often even 6 years old) who were making money to eat by selling the odd necklace to tourists (most of which wouldn’t have much luck, seeing as there are so many doing the same thing), squirrels who seemed happy enough basking on the warm sandstone and a variety of obnoxious Indian middle class tourists. Apart from a generally typical hassling Indian setting, the mosque, palace and courtyards were beautiful. I remember sitting for about an hour or so in a corner a the back of the mosque, looking up in awe at the forest of intricately carved marble and sandstone pillars and arches towering around me. In my opinion, it is just as beautiful as the Taj, but just not as memorable (or remembered for that matter).
We stayed within the walls of the complex for the majority of the day, reluctant to move on. Yet just as we decided it was time to leave, it looked like we were due to stay for a while longer. We made our way back down the hill to the bus station, remembering that 5pm was the last bus back to Agra. 5.30 came, and no bus. As you do in India, you seem to let time drift a little.. “In India time…” Then at 6pm, we asked at the bus food stall if there was a bus coming. Turned out the last bus was 3pm. Missed that 3 hours ago. Now to find a way back to Agra, a two hour drive away, where all our stuff was waiting for us in our little cold-bucket-shower hotel room. We ended up walking out of the town for a few kilometers, in hope of finding a taxi or rickshaw along the main highway that could take us. At a little road-side stop we ran into some Indians who had a van that they were driving back to Agra. So, we jumped a lift and it even worked out cheaper than a public bus. Just as we thought everything was working out to our advantage, we were cruising along the highway when we came to a sudden halt in traffic, and smashed into a car in front. Hell broke loose for a while, and for a few hours we were stranded in the middle of nowhere with these Indian’s who could barely speak a sentence in English. After a while, with the help of a local farmer’s beaten up track (that happened to be driving down the highway at full speed, seating about 10 people on an open trailer bolted behind) the van got moving and we were back on our way to the hell-hole that Agra is.. Midnight, after detouring multiple time and making numerous stops, we arrived at our hotel… I’ve never thought a rock-hard bed was so comfortable after that day.
"Go deep into the sense of ‘I am’ and you will find. How do you find a thing you have mislaid or forgotten? You keep it in your mind until you recall it. The sense of being, of ‘I am’ is the first to emerge. Ask yourself whence it comes or just watch it quietly. When the mind stays in the ‘I am’, without moving, you enter a state, which cannot be verbalized, but which can be experienced. All you need to do is to try and try again. After all the sense of ‘I am’ is always with you, only you have attached all kinds of things to it - body, feelings, thoughts, ideas, possessions and so on. All these self-identifications are misleading, because of these you take yourself to be what you are not." - Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj, I Am That (via slychedelic)
So I recently came across some old film that I’d developed from my travels in India. I haven’t uploaded any of them until now, so here they are…