LilyInteractive

PRE-RAMBLE: Last week when I published my post YAAMBULDHAANY I expected no one to read it aside from the people who had mandatory requirements to do so, and maybe some of the few hundred loyal readers I have accumulated and dragged from corner to corner around the internet from approximately 2013 onwards… The piece currently has 4000+ individual views and counting – which may not seem like a lot but for someone who conceptualises these types of things by visualising people in a room, I may have almost pissed my pants.

There aren’t many things I love more than a captive audience, a good yarn, and being as loud and shameless as possible on behalf of those who can’t. The messages and feedback I received from strangers and loved ones alike has provided me with all of that and so much more, I am blown away and amazed by some of things I have experienced as a result of remembering I had a last minute blogging deadline to meet that I’d forgotten about and an issue I am passionate enough towards to write endless opinion pieces on – haha!

When originally planning this weeks post, I had prepared a formal essay on Queerphobia within Australian Institutions, but on Sunday morning I moved that essay from ‘scheduled’ to ‘drafts’ and smashed out a comparative analysis on what Upper Class people view as community building VS the Working Poor;

then a severe weather warning came and knocked my internet out.

I took this as a sign to show my gratitude for last weeks support in the form of a love letter to people I normally wouldn’t be writing love letters for. It’s easier on our brains, and our hearts, and now I have two other posts ready to go for next time trees start crashing onto powerlines, and you all start to miss me. So without anymore delay let me set my timer for an hour and shuffle my Spotify liked songs!

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Sometimes the people I love the most, are the people furthest from me.

There are 5 tattoos on my body.

4 of these are located on my upper left arm.

1 of them has a name.

His name is Thaddeus, and he is brandishing a spear. Allegedly, he symbolises my Taurus Rising.

Thaddeus was given his name by one of the smartest, kindest, funniest women I have ever had the pleasure of knowing (and loving).

Although once we called the same four walls home, we are lucky to see each other much at all these days, with our conflicting and busy schedules.

Still, we confide secrets to each other over Instagram DMs, and discuss our future shared land in the smokers area of bars.

Her opinion is one I weigh just as heavily as people I see most days.

I talk about her on first dates, and my mother occasionally asks how she is doing.

I have an untouched journal on my bedside table because the only thing I currently feel is important enough to tarnish the pages is a handwritten note from her.

When I think about how much she shapes me from such a distance, I am flooded with memories of the route I used to take most days after school with the same people on my bicycle in 7th grade.

Most of us are 100s of kms apart these days, and I am not even still in contact with all of them, but it almost feels just as religious and childlike when I am in a room with any of them now as it did when we were 12.

We nurtured and supported each other like it was the most important thing in the world when we were children- why would it be any different now?

I am just as proud of you all for having children, getting cars, getting sober as I was for when you passed NAPLAN, had your first kiss, got your braces removed.

It is hard to be a teenage girl in the presence of anyone and not feel permanently shaped by them one way or another.

I text my friends goodnight, and bring them coffee at work like we have been married for 7 years, I remember when they have important events coming up and I send them messages of luck or make sure they are supplied with comforting snacks.

I do not do this for anything in return yet they tuck me in to bed when I am sick, let me infodump about the latest music album I am obsessed with, and graciously pretend my handwriting is legible.

I do not know where I would be without them, I know it would be nowhere good, but I know I do not have to ever worry about finding out.

I am confident that they are permanent fixtures in my life.

I have love for less permanent fixtures in my life, too.

There are former classmates I have post notifications on for so I can show the same enthusiasm to their creative endeavours as I receive from them for mine. I would not see their posts without these notifications, but they create some of the most emotion-evoking pieces I have ever experienced. I keep my phone more-so for this than I do for it’s texting ability.

There are people I never say no to hanging out to, like the woman I recently went to an interactive screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show with. We don’t cross paths much, and there have been times we have witnessed each other fairly close to rock-bottom, but after years of orbiting each other’s worlds we’ve never have a bad word to say about or to each other, I would trust her with my life sooner than some of the people I interact with daily.

The interior of my house is decorated with handmade birthday cards, letters, polaroids from a friend who makes sure everything is documented (and everyone looks cute), pieces of artwork from past lovers, trinkets I have stolen to commemorate signifcant memories, concert set lists that changed my life and so much more.

My bedroom is a constantly growing museum filled with homages to everyone I have ever loved, or has ever loved me. There are gifts from people that I will never speak to again in almost every corner of my study or shelf of my kitchen. There are plants in my garden from people who no longer breathe; I speak to them the same way I would the people who planted them with me.

I don’t live with any of my siblings anymore but I still leave a space for them on the lounge when it’s movie night.

I am always trying to honour where I have come from, enjoy where I am, and harbour excitement for who I am going to be.

I used to be so angry, so scared. I hardly remember or recognise that version of myself.

I am located in crowded rooms by my laugh on a regular basis, I owe that to endless amounts of love and forgiveness I am shown everyday by people both old and new to my orbit.

This has been one of the warmest years of my life, and I wake up eager everymorning to see how my loved ones are going to amaze me just by being themselves.

Catch you Sunday with a coherent point and (debatebly) better post! MWAH!