Farewell JCC

This blog is dedicated to my dear friend.
Rest In Peace J.C.C. xxx
 

Today I received a surprise email. The email popped up in my inbox and actually left me gob smacked. For two reasons.

The first reason is that the email came from an ex of long ago.. another life another time another me. It was strange to hear the formality of his words, difficult to marry the lilting language to how I remembered his voice to be.

My, how we have both grown since then. We must both sound like adults now!

The second and most powerful reason I was left dumbstruck is for the news he shared.. the sad sad passing of our dear close friend.

True, I knew him for less time than my ex knew him, but he was someone special in my memories, with whom I had shared close and happy times with. He was a character unlike anyone I'd ever met, with adventures and stories that blew my mind! Certainly he had lived a life of exhilaration and wonder, with enough tales to fill several books and regale guests and staff alike, at any establishment. He was a modest man that liked to smile and have a good hearty laugh, showing off sparkling eyes and a cheeky grin.

To recall those sweet summery times and now the untimely death, is a tragic juxtapositioning.

I sat here tonight alone, looking over photographs from that time.. a million memories jumbled like numbers in a twirling bingo basket, pinging off each other.. the good the bad and the ugly.. the human experience.

His death hurts my heart and leaves a heavy feeling upon my shoulders. But I'm happy for that. That someone could be so vibrant and lively in my life and affect me so many years on is a positive thing. I pray I can have such long lasting positive impact on someone somewhere and I hope that my ex can also find happiness in such a sad death.

Our lives are fleeting and fragile. Lets make the most of the time we have!

Namaste dear darlings, I truly do love you all
xox

Reflections..

Sometimes my life just pulls me up short and makes me stop and take stock.
Sometimes life reigns me in and asks questions like:
'what are you doing!?'
'who do you think you are?'
'are you happy with who you are?'
'are you happy with what you're doing?'

This past week I've been painfully sifting through the remains of my life, coming to terms with what I have left.

A gold panning analogy is particularly good here, I feel like my life has been brutally scooped up, shaken, drowned and discarded like so much invaluable river sand. I'd like to say what is left is gold, and that's me. But that's where the gold panning analogy veers off from the reality. Although the physical bruises and aches have healed, I still feel emotionally battered.

I ask myself a hundred times a day:
am I as 'good' as I think I am!?
am I as easy going and sweet natured as I want to be?
do I come across wrong to other people?
what have I done to make my own brother hate me SO much?

And then, because of the absolute abandonment and betrayal by my closest blood relatives, I am distrustful and sceptical of anyone who claims to love or care about me. I push away anyone who tries to get close. I have convinced myself that attachment is a curse and I am much better off alone, doing my own thing.

I'll keep my friends for sure! But anything closer is an emotional time-bomb.

And right now, I feel determined and mad enough to stick with my belief that anyone I love, anyone I get attached to, anyone who claims to care about me, WILL walk away and abandon me.

And right now, I've had enough. Ugh, I know I sound angry. I am. I know I sound bitter. I am.
I've no tears left and my heart cannot hurt more than it already does.
I'm tired of being let down, treated like rubbish, taken advantage of.

I rarely feel so mad that I'd say 'fuck you all' to the world, but that is exactly what I feel like doing. Then crawling into a hole and hibernating for another long cold Melbourne winter.

Wake me when the sun is shining. I'm tired.

Dark days

Three days ago, my brother bashed me.

I went to his store with a gift for his daughter, my baby niece who I'd met only once before.

He was infuriated.
He was ready to fight.
He yelled louder than I could speak.
He shoved me stronger than I could balance on my heels.

Three times he threw me to the ground. Twice I rose, defiant at the injustice, that I would be treated this way.
To be yelled at with so much passion.
To have his finger stabbing the air right in front of my face.
To hear 'I work 6 days a week to support my family' yelled at the top of his lungs, at my face, over and over, for no apparent reason.

The third time i found myself on the ground, I didn't defy. I scrambled out of the door like an animal. He'd thrown me into furniture, I had banged my head, injured my shoulder.. the thought ran through my head 'he's not going to stop!' My shoes had flown off my feet. He at least had the courtesy to throw my handbag from the doorway of his store onto the pavement where I could collect it and its contents from the ground.

While I cried and put on my stilettos, he paced out front of his store taunting, saying I was an embarrassment, that everyone was watching and laughing at me. He told passer-bys, with a cool calm demeanor, that I was crazy and was being 'collected' shortly. It would be no wonder if they thought I was crazy, I couldn't stop crying. Not the done thing in a quiet leafy suburb like Albert Park.

He threw the gift for my niece onto the pavement near me.
Each time I tried to say something, he cut me off, his voice was bigger than mine.

I left his store stunned and hurt - emotionally as well as physically.

I was devastated that he had treated me this way yet again. Though to be completely honest, this was the worst by far.

I was totally devastated that his wife ran and hid and left me with him.

And i was bitterly outraged that his neighbour, despite my plea for help from my curled up position on the floor, walked away and did not call the police as I pleaded for his help.

And for the first time, I was ANGRY!! So angry!

Angry that he used that oldtime 1940s favourite: 'mental problems' as an excuse to condone his behavior.
Angry that I would be perceived as having mental problems by ignorant family and friends.

And I am furious at him for never being a brother.
Never being an uncle to my children. Never being an ally.

I know I have actually lost nothing. No one.

But I am angry that he has so swindled people into believing that I have 'mental' problems, so that his unprovoked violent behavior may somehow be excused when in fact I have years of post-grad medical education under my belt and worked at a senior level to state government ministers. I raised my now-teenage children as a sole parent amidst the urban city life. And I own my home in a socio-economically affluent part of town.

Despite the betrayal, I fear for the safety of his wife and of course, my baby niece with whom he has not allowed me contact since her birth.

My mother, although she was present, said nothing to condemn his abhorrent behavior. In fact, I was blamed for having chosen to personally deliver the gift to my niece.

How is it that, because it is family, everyone turned their back on such ugly and brutal violence?

That because I was beaten and sustained injuries inflicted by my brother, we wouldn't contemplate calling the police?

Just because we share the same parents does not mean he couldn't have killed me. The way he threw me around like I was trash, it was absolute feasible that he could have killed me, broken my neck or fractured my skull. I'm gutsy and I don't frighten easily. But he was beyond reason and I was scared for my life.

Although I am bruised and wear aches and grazes of my brother's attention, I am glad that our relationship has crystallized.

No longer can he say that I am welcome I their home.
No longer can he say that I am excluding myself from the baby's life.

And he can no longer stand by that great lie that he was disappointed that I didn't attend her 1st birthday party. I grieved that day. I had no idea when or where the party would be. I had not been invited not informed of the event.

And now everyone knows how hateful and violent and dishonest he is. Whether his mindless supporters choose to acknowledge that he is a violent sociopath is another story.

But I hope that this story makes its way to my sister in law and eventually to my niece because I want them to know that I will love and support them no matter what and I will always be here for them with open arms.

And for that violent sociopath, I don't care that we are related. He is disrespectful and he is violent. Neither trait have I any respect for. And his overstatement that I am never welcome at his house or in his family is unnecessary because I could never again trust him in my vicinity.

Violence against women is wrong, no matter who the perpetrator is.
Violence against women is too prevalent!! The number one killer of women aged 24-44, violence by far beats cancer as the leading cause of death and disability.

If you witness violence being inflicted upon another person, call the police! It's nothing to the witness to dial 000 but the action may mean saving the life of another.

Flux

Sometimes don't you feel like you don't sit easily in the world?
Sometimes, don't you feel itchy in your own skin? Like you want to run but you don't know where.
Or you want to fly but your wings are gone.

Saturday night in the city and I'm melancholy.
Staring out at the black shining streets below, reflecting street lights as lost rain drip drip drips down drainpipes.
And I realise that I am not ready for winter.
And I realise that the world is bigger than Melbourne.
And I realise that I need to feel the wind on my face and the horizon in my heart.

I need those things so bad it hurts.
I can almost feel the squeeze on my chest of the smallness of my tiny life.
Like a black hole, a singularity under so much pressure, it feels heavy too heavy.

Why are others so content and so happy to just be? To find routine and continue with routine day in day out with diligent and blinkered dedication to never changing?
Why must I always feel the need to move? To be on the move and moving or to feel death rotting out my body from the inside.
How is it that I can never allow myself to feel comfortable? To feel contented? To feel comfort?

It is like I am scared of sitting still.
Scared of sameness.
Scared of routine and order and familiarity.

And I wonder if this is naturally the human condition?
And if so, where roams my nomadic kin?
And do they care that my wings are gone and my heart is dry?

My eyes remain upon the horizon, that draw to someplace, that place, the wherever other not-here place. 
And I will not stare at the ground.

White Night Melbourne!

Oh what a night!

The city positively lit up, opened up and turned it on!

My lane way was transformed into a light spectacular! But I wasn't home to see it!

From 7pm to 7am Melbourne did provide! Roving performers, light displays and a feast of spectacles to please every appetite!

Flinders St Station light up and provided a stage for bands. All. Night. Long!

Flinders St Station steps was turned into a stage where bands performed all night long! I had the joygasmic pleasure of seeing Cat Empire perform an awesome hour long set atop those stairs at 2am. The band, complete with fiesty back up dancing girls, grooved through many of the ol faves as well as a few tunes from their new about to be released album!

Awesome photo I know.. this is the Cat Empire performing out front of Flinders St Station.. as if I had to tell you.

Across the crowd, Fed Sq was packed with revellers enjoying a feast of light and sound that continued up way Swanston St and down St Kilda Rd where patrons spilled out of the wonderful world of the Spiegeltent.

Everywhere, building facades were transformed into dynamic and oftentimes mesmerizing displays of colour and whimsy that held whole populations rapt.

Best of all, as I strolled home content and just tired enough with my houseguest, everywhere we went, everyone we passed, was smiling and relaxed. Despite the lateness of the hour, despite the consumption of alcohol, there was no aggressive or violent behaviour to be seen! 

As my houseguest had just landed in Melbourne that afternoon, it was quite the welcome for him! One I proudly showed him with as vibrant enthusiasm as my beautiful city! She fluttered her eyelashes over bare shoulder and she had us in awe!

Oh Melbourne! Thank you for an awesome amazing fantastical night.. and morning.. ;)