lists, photos, paris, packing

and so it happens again. i'm packing up another home for this year. my six week stay here is soon over. once again i make piles of my stuff and grimace at the volume. this will not do. why can't i be lighter than this?

and there's all those files and papers that i was meant to go through and discard, but i've barely made a dent.

and i'm a bit sad to leave another home, but happy for the experience of being here. with each new home, a few more changes, and a different me moves out and on to the next place.

in this place i cook a lot, i try to be more healthy, i ride to and from work, i drive a car, i watch Orange is the New Black, i listen to Daft Punk, i remember what it's like to live alone and choose to keep doing this.

as always, i've made endless lists on scraps of paper which litter the kitchen table and haunt me as i pass. as always, i aim for 'being organised'.

soon i'll have a postcode i've never had before, but one shared by several loved ones, which is always important in sydney. i have this here too, and back there. but this time i'll have a lease, a small apartment, and a new arrangement of my stuff (if it fits). it feels a bit like when i was 18 and moving out for the first time. no longer reliant on my 'family' to put a roof over my head.

the sun is out; another sign of promise. it's not unlike summer in paris, where my thoughts are. today (yesterday) two of my favourite people meet in paris for the first time, in my favourite apartment; my other home. in photos, their arms wrap around each other. worlds colliding, or folding, or shrinking. i can't help feeling proud. i did that.

i remember touch

1) househunting is no fun.
2) nor is your lover being on the other side of the world.
3) nor is self-discipline.

but all of these things give shape to my life at present.

i focus on the last of these which has its rewards. i change my diet (wholefoods, low sugar) so that i no longer feel my body twisting and groaning and causing fatigue. i recommence swimming and remember what it's like to return to the computer with a clear head and the ability to digest words. i re-draft two chapters for my supervisor. combined, these things make me feel better, and give me less grief in thinking about points 1 and 2.

sydney is too expensive. but i'm now forging a repetoire of home-cooked cheap meals, so i'm almost ready to suck it up and pay half my salary as rent, in the hope that this will be temporary.

i'm listening to this song a lot.



yes, i remember touch. it's coming up two weeks (the halfway point) and it's an itch of a memory that i can't shed. i look to see what substitutes may be around, but nothing appeals. besides, i'm no longer in the age bracket of appeal in this world, so do little but awkwardly witness a series of banal self-representations. it's as nourishing as commercial tv.

this song, however, is exquisite. it's like phantom of the opera meets sci-fi memories of times when affection was had. the remembrance of touch. and it doesn't fail to cite disco: a hopeful mode of nostalgia if there ever was one. yes, of course i will survive. and my emotional state is clearly the driving force behind this song. the beat is terribly inconsistent but it makes more sense that way. it feels more real, and also not.