July 25th, 2003

butterfly girl : where she goes when she

dreaming in s t a r d u s t

i keep losing myself in other people's words; it's like heaven.

i'm going to hide out at russ's place again tonight. he won't be there for the most of it, and as crazy as it seems, that suits me fine. i feel like i'm invisible there in a good way, a place where i can disappear into words and images, write, read, dream, sleep, and no-one's there to hassle me. then later on he'll come home again and wrap his arms around me in sleep, and somehow, all the pieces fit together. i brought a new journal last weekend, and i'm intending on buying a polaroid camera too. there's something about instant snapshots that just capture a moment like nothing else - the idea that a moment can't ever be the same as another, can't ever be copied. i wish i could find my creative spark again, and just being away from home, being in his room on my own, helps me. if only a little.

i miss that about being in queensland. this time a year ago i was finding all my creative outlets, and i felt like i had begun to live again. little did i know that i'd be back here again. but creativity doesn't come in a state. it's not where you are, it's who you are. the creativity is inside me, and i just have to learn how to use it.

i wish i could down in ink & colour & glitter & film & words & syllables & pixels & & &

when i'm reading my favourite novels, i press my hands into the pages, as though somehow, i could melt into the ink, and become one with the characters. the tragic heroine. the brave underdog. the girl learning to find her wings. all those things i'll never be.