le sigh.

this journal is in a constant state of flux. by flux, i mean removal of entries. i guess that's what makes it most appealing vs. the paper journal. i'll keep starting over 'til my outcries align with my insides. tell me that you understand what i mean when i say that i don't want to write my age.

i've been saying for a while now that there's nothing left for me here. by here, i mean melbourne. post-vacation bliss aside, i've got to breathe deep and be patient and do everything i can to make sure these next few months or so are productive. getting my dream job isn't a given and neither is moving country-- none of it is going to be, well, a holiday. but i can just imagine those sidewalk cafes in the summer. and having a bicycle. and rose gardens all in bloom. and spending countless hours at bookstores, where you actually need a map to get around. and riding the buses, too, because they paste poetry snippets on the walls. and can't you see now, why i belong there?