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18

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Sort of 10 days

Day 10 (?)

I've lost track of the days, I found rather difficult to do something, anything, daily. But this challenge was a victory nonetheless, you'll read for yourself when I transcribe the rest of the days from my notebook to the platform. 

Today I noticed I was thinking about a New York Magazine article about Coachella. I hadn't read it then, only seen the header that went something like "Coachella is the type of place where you can spot Rihanna, not a scheduled performer, smoking a blunt while riding on her security guard's shoulders", and started thinking about what that situation would be like if it happened to me. 

It would go something like this: I'd ask Riri for a toke of her blunt, my nonchalantness (yeah?) would scream "I am a peer" and she'll be inclined to pass the J around. And then, in typical stoner fashion, whilst holding the smoke in my throat I'd say "You know, I don't listen to your music really, but I think you're a good person, and you're cool as hell". And I don't know, blame the hippyesque spirit of Coachella -or whatever type spirit there is, I've never been- or the Kush or something, but she'd like the comment, and we'll part ways but be Instagram friends or something. 

Day 11 (because I'm on a roll and day 10 was subpar) 

Today I noticed the yellowing fall leaves on Buckland st. They line the smooth asphalt of the shared footpath that both pedestrians and cyclists can use, they gather in the edges of the decorative bushes and along the lines where the walls of the terraces meet the floor. I don't know what kind of tree it is that lines this street, but it is the classic "autumn leaf" shape. Thinking about this brought me back to when I first paid attention to the autumn leaves in Sydney. It was around this time of the year in 2012, and I was walking back to my Film School after booking a tattoo appointment for over a month later. 

I noticed I am not the same girl I was 4 years ago, high on life, in a brand new city, with brand new friends and a newfound desire to take the world up by storm and make it feel every possible feeling. 

Moving to a new country is a beautiful way to escape your Neurosis, and I truly thought I had left them behind for good. As you settle into a routine, I learnt, they creep back, different, saltier, heavier. I am grateful for my Freudian household, for the years spent in the chair, learning to read myself, Neurosis is heavier but the reasons behind them are also clearer, easier to grasp, and while heavier, somehow easier to push away, into a corner where they sit and stare but don't interfere as much. 

By the way, the tattoo reads "Miles to go", and I'm still going, since 2012... I mean, since 1987. 

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