Australia has been an absolute cluster fuck of morals this year.
Our country has blood on it’s hands. The blood of those who sought safety at our very, very privileged doorstep – who we shipped away and turned our backs on.
For those who’ve come across the seas; we’ve boundless plains to share.
Tomorrow we hear the opinions of those who chose to vote on whether same sex marriages should be acceptable in the eyes of the law.
In history’s page, let every stage, Advance Australia Fair.
I am ashamed and I am deeply saddened. I am afraid. I don’t know who we are or what we stand for.
With courage, let us all combine to Advance Australia Fair.
I’m sure I’m not alone. That’s something.
Two weeks and you were like a new lover
with curves and a taste I had yet to discover
Maybe distance makes the heart grow fonder
Or maybe it just makes it wonder
How it might feel, if I was alone
How it might feel, without a home
I wasn’t sure what we were meant to do
I didn’t want a new lover; I just wanted you
Black as night, clear as day
in every way
what you don’t say; but do
I never hear
don’t have a clue
Sometimes people tell you that they love you, in a language you don’t understand.
You’re looking for the universe and missing the stars.
She was always so stoic and still, sitting in her chair across from me. A piece of furniture with piercing eyes and listening ears. It seems odd to realise how little expression she had when I was telling her my most vulnerable feelings, and how safe I felt doing just that. Maybe the lack of expression allowed me to feel safe because I could not read on her face what she was thinking. She was excellent at her job.
She told me once that my Mother needed to be my Mother. That I was the child and I couldn’t support her in the way that she was asking. I felt sad about that even though I knew she was right. I wanted to rebel against that idea because I knew of – but could never understand – all the sacrifices my Mother had made to make me who I am. It seemed unfair to me that I could just say “no. I can’t help you” when she could never do that. Not to me; my siblings; my Father.
I can’t help but wonder who is there for the Mothers when they need that support. Do they just ask and ask and have everyone say “no. I can’t help you” every time they open their arms?