Sssso let's talk about my day out in the trolley wood.

It takes mad skillz to be stealth in 1) a maxi-dress, 2) beach flipflops, 3) too many bangles and with a bag besides- but I, apparently, have said mad skillz.

So I did a Check Yes Juliet, went towards the waiting cab, was blindfolded, and...subsequently tramped and then was fireman lifted along some godforsaken path, all the while incredibly grateful that I hadn't worn heels--

--- and then he lifted the blindfold-- and I think little universes exploded behind my eyes.

It wasn't Arcadia; but it was absolutely beautiful.

I wish I could have freezeframed the instant the blindfold fell with my fingers, and rub it into the screen so all of you could see it. picture this: a hillscape of absolute darkness- the deepest, softest midnight-running-into-black, caressed at the corners of its rolling jaw by what i thought was a reservoir and dock (but turned out later to be the sea)- and the lights, the lights, the lights.

there was wine, and small candles, and I had speakers so I put them on and played inshallah and the dragon's breath and faeries. I remember we talked at length about how "we are all made out of people" and old lovers, lost polaroid people- they're all kept between the pages of our books, pressed and dried and fragile like old flowers.

I remember realizing, with a pang of something, that I always meet with the ones who leave- and then folding my legs into myself, like this is the dark little secret I've been trying to guard all along. and maybe it is.

I know people always leave- but it's kind of odd, realizing you've always (when it mattered, anyway) been the one left watching from the harbour. She calls me an Amazon, and they tell me to up and be a warrior princess, and he told me (in no uncertain terms) that i could be a cold hard bitch-- but can you blame me for being a leaver, now?

recently I've stopped letting the shadow of the past hold the present hostage, though. so I leaned over, switched the song, and curled up on the makeshift blanket, into his arm, and fell asleep.

when i woke up again, it was beautiful. everything had changed- touched by the tentative first starts of dawn, and it was this cool, silent shade of blue. like the world submerged under an ocean.

we spent the next hour watching the sun rise- and i mean literally: watch the sun (space) rise;

watched as ocean blue's cheeks heated up shyly with a slow blush, which twisted into pink and blue and orange and then- very rapidly, startlingly so- everything unfurled a fierce golden and I put on my faux raybans and we saw the sun push himself out of the horizon and blaze straight up ahead in his morning glory.

"can you blame the ancient Greeks for thinking it was the coming of a god?"

the rest of the day went oddly and spectacularly.

in usual Aquarian fashion, we got onto the first bus that came, without really knowing where we wanted to go, and not giving much of a damn, either. Fell asleep and when we woke up and looked out of the window, we thought we were in Vietnam.

"can we go to the Cathedral? please? please?"

and since we had hours to spare and youth to pretend we could waste- we did.

I hadn't been there since I was little.

There's a silence that strikes as soon as you step through those heavy doors. Maybe it's the memorial plaques- old, heavy sounding words like "fell in..." and "died in action" and "fell in service" and dates like 1972 and ages like 81, 10 months old, 17 years old (that's a year younger than I was, and he died during his voyage from Hamburgh to Singapore)

My granddad stands up there and preaches. I used to run through those pews in my white fairy dress when I was 8, and charm the stockings off all the church ladies. My mum walked down that aisle when she got married: where it all began.

I prayed.

I haven't felt so close to God in so long. I went down on my knees and I prayed for present friends, past lovers, my future, numerous other Life-related things etc.

when I got back from the washroom, his head was bowed, too. and it made me smile. Not all those who wander are lost.

Following which: we hit up the Supreme Court and sat in on a rather uninspiring hearing, in which Twitter/FB/Friendster were banned, and one of the young lawyers (we had a prime view- SO BUSTED) was playing a stickman game on his laptop, and the judge also looked suspiciously engrossed in his computer screen... I suspect a 2-player challenge.

I did absorb some useful legislative terms, though; before we headed on back downstairs to the Legal History section and looked at pictures of Chief Justices past and came to the conclusion that: the white wig is un-pullable off-able. Sorry.

last feat of the day: BREAKING INTO MY OWN HOUSE.

... I know. This world works in weird and wondrous ways. 007 ain't got nothin' on us.

"leave it to me- I'm the trained sniper."

... but I can distract with feminine wiles!

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind = TO BE CONTINUED. I wish I could go for a procedure like so and wipe out the useless bits of information (eg random song lyrics, nutrition information, timings of Clash of the Gods etc) so's I can make more room for things that apparently DO count in life; eg Statistics formulas, what ln e adds up to, why protectionism is less beneficial than specialization etc.

... Not people, though.

I used to wish I could wipe out people, but in retrospect- no. I don't regret any of them, even the complete bastards.

Because they're all pressed flowers in my book of days.

[/stepback]

... I guess I CAN still sort of write about stuff, huh. even if it pretty much is just word spillage.

so yeah.

day in trolley wood: well spent, and not regretted.

"i love you. thank you for making me live like i'm 18."

Ad astra, ad absurdum.