Also, my brother told me to write this.

Apart from the fact that today I have published two posts, I have not blogged for a very long time.  My little brother has complained about this (because he is clearly one of my biggest fans) and told me that if I lacked inspiration I could draw from the well of deep emotions that I would no doubt have, on the event of my leaving home (AGAIN) and (more significantly) leaving him behind.

So...

I am very sad that I am not living with Jotham any more.  He is so so super cool.  And funny.  And fashionable.  And smart.  Now, I will only be able to snapchat, facebook and call him most of the time.  It won't be the same.  I don't have any more words to describe the miserableness I feel at waving good bye to my favourite littlest brother.  But I hope he will come to visit and that I will see him again soon.

Yours Sincerely.

Clouds on the coast

Monday: Paekakariki hills 

The leftover candyfloss wisps hang stickily across the foothills

We didn’t add any colouring because that always clogs up the spinner

so they’re white, brilliant white

against the dark green backdrop of pine

Tuesday: Paekakariki beach

The smoke around the bar hangs low and heavy

Clearly anti-smoking laws don’t apply here.

The bell rings over the door, except it sounds less like a tinkle

and more like the crash

of waves upon the sand.

Wednesday: Otaki

A wet white jersey with droplets glistening
on fibres when it warms it steams
and smells like a dog
feels like a dog, shaking it's fur on the
beach

(no subject)

Hey Jesus, I cant be a Christian anymore.

Why not?

Because I have too many doubts.  And I’m afraid.  Sometimes I don’t trust you for my day let alone my entire future.  Somedays I can’t believe.

I know. 

And, sometimes I enjoy doing the wrong thing.  And I don’t regret it.  And sometimes, i even want to do it again.

I know.

There’s so many things I’m not good enough for.  If I tell people I’m one of yours, it will defame you. You’re better to stay disassociated.

I know.

And I want to be happy.  I want to be satisfied and fulfilled, and you want me to give control over to you.  I’m not sure if I can trust you to make me happy.  I’m not sure if you even want me to be happy.  

I know.

Sometimes, I dont’ think I even really know what it means to follow you

Yes. You do, my child.  Doubts and fears with an inkling of hope.  Messing up, coming right, messing up again.  Knowing that you’re never enough, but that I choose you.  coming back to me when you don’t know if you trust me, when you’re a tangle of confused emotions, when nothing makes sense.  Never stop coming.