Well at 8.10 am Thursday June 23rd, Athol Carrington, my grandfather, passed away.
We knew it was coming, we just didn't know when. And now its happened, i don't know what i'm feeling. I cared for him, i know that. I'm glad he's gone though, if only for the fact that now he is no longer suffering. He was brilliant man, and even at the end, while he lost it a bit, was still articulate and with it. Which i think almost makes it harder to believe he's gone.
The third death in a year within my friendship group, i'm finding it hard to tell people whats going on. I just want them to know, to be aware, and to let me work through it my way. I know the first day isn't going to be the worst, but i wish i could grieve for him and let evrything else not worry me.
But with dad and the way things are i don't know whats going to happen now...
Friday, June 23, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
i don't know if i can say it...
I'm tired. And i'm not coping with mum, dad and greg. I don't know what i can do now to make things better, because i don't feel that moving back to chatswood has helped. I'm just as tired as i was, i may have moments where i can concentrate more in class, but in comparison i really don't know how mauch affect even that is having on my marks etc. My last english assessment cam back better than i thought it would, but still not great. Although that was from before the move.
In chatswood i never feel totally comfortable. "my room" is not my room, and there is nothing of me in there anymore it seems. Its only my desk and my bags. I don't want to make it permanent either. I know, however, that i cant make a move back to dads permanent either. I don't know where to go. I feel like i've lost everywhere that was a home, and now i'm just moving between bases. I don't feel comfortable at forestville, because of dad, and i don't know what i'm ghoing to do for the rest of this year, and next year and beyond.
I don't know if i can keep going doing this. but i don't have much alternative considering the circumstances... i still don't know if i'm ready to ask for help again though....
In chatswood i never feel totally comfortable. "my room" is not my room, and there is nothing of me in there anymore it seems. Its only my desk and my bags. I don't want to make it permanent either. I know, however, that i cant make a move back to dads permanent either. I don't know where to go. I feel like i've lost everywhere that was a home, and now i'm just moving between bases. I don't feel comfortable at forestville, because of dad, and i don't know what i'm ghoing to do for the rest of this year, and next year and beyond.
I don't know if i can keep going doing this. but i don't have much alternative considering the circumstances... i still don't know if i'm ready to ask for help again though....
Sunday, June 04, 2006
One Crowded Hour by Augie March
Should you expect to see something that you hadn't seen
In somebody you'd known since you were sixteen;
if love is a bolt from the blue, then what is that bolt but a glorified screw?
and that doesn't hold nothing together
Far from these nonsense bars and their nowhere music it's making me sick
And I know it's making you sick
There's nothing there, it's like eating air
It's like drinking gin with nothing else in
That doesn't hold me together.
But for one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room
And I sailed around all those bumps in the night to your beacon in the gloom
I thought I had found my golden September in the middle of that purple June
But one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin
Now I know you like your boys to take their medicine
From the bowl with a silver spoon
Run away with the dish and scare the fish by the silvery light of the moon
Who were taught from the womb to believe to the tune
In as far as their bleeding eyes see
Is a pleasure pen, meant for them, built for and rent for them
Not for the likes of me
Not for the like of you and me
And for one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room
And I sailed around all those bumps in the night to your beacon in the gloom
I thought I had found my golden September in the middle of that purple June
But one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin
Oh but the green-eyed harpy of the songland
She takes into hers my hand
She says, "Boy I know you're lying
Oh but then, so am I,"
And to that I said "Oh well."
They put me in a cage full of lions, I learned to speak lion
In fact I know the language well
I picked it up while I was versing myself in the languages they speak in hell
That night, the silence gave birth to a baby
They took it away to her silent dismay
And they raised it to be lady
Now she can't keep her mouth shut
But for one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room
And I sailed around all those bumps in the night to your beacon in the gloom
I thought I had found my golden September in the middle of that purple June
But one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin
One crowded hour, you were the only one in the room
Well I played a few songs for those bumps in the night
In fact I played this very tune
You said, "What is this six-stringed instrument but an adolescent loom?"
And one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin.
In somebody you'd known since you were sixteen;
if love is a bolt from the blue, then what is that bolt but a glorified screw?
and that doesn't hold nothing together
Far from these nonsense bars and their nowhere music it's making me sick
And I know it's making you sick
There's nothing there, it's like eating air
It's like drinking gin with nothing else in
That doesn't hold me together.
But for one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room
And I sailed around all those bumps in the night to your beacon in the gloom
I thought I had found my golden September in the middle of that purple June
But one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin
Now I know you like your boys to take their medicine
From the bowl with a silver spoon
Run away with the dish and scare the fish by the silvery light of the moon
Who were taught from the womb to believe to the tune
In as far as their bleeding eyes see
Is a pleasure pen, meant for them, built for and rent for them
Not for the likes of me
Not for the like of you and me
And for one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room
And I sailed around all those bumps in the night to your beacon in the gloom
I thought I had found my golden September in the middle of that purple June
But one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin
Oh but the green-eyed harpy of the songland
She takes into hers my hand
She says, "Boy I know you're lying
Oh but then, so am I,"
And to that I said "Oh well."
They put me in a cage full of lions, I learned to speak lion
In fact I know the language well
I picked it up while I was versing myself in the languages they speak in hell
That night, the silence gave birth to a baby
They took it away to her silent dismay
And they raised it to be lady
Now she can't keep her mouth shut
But for one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room
And I sailed around all those bumps in the night to your beacon in the gloom
I thought I had found my golden September in the middle of that purple June
But one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin
One crowded hour, you were the only one in the room
Well I played a few songs for those bumps in the night
In fact I played this very tune
You said, "What is this six-stringed instrument but an adolescent loom?"
And one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
