Takk.

One of my all time favourite albums.

Chasing the rabbit into wonderland.

Backspace.
Fingers climb one another, interlocking so symmetrically.
Intertwining shadows dance on the dimmed walls, through the soft glow of a baby bulb.
One moment of serenity, when time doesn't matter, when looks don't matter and all expectations have simply gathered in a heap at the doorway. The perfect wonderland. Just you, your senses and a catalogue of thoughts. But time is of the essence, it doesn't stop at nightfall.

Rainbows.

Ever seen something so cute it makes you feel warm and fuzzy?

Carnival of thoughts.

Do you ever wish you could see the inner workings of someone's head? The pulses of thoughts thundering around, the forgotten memory clambering back up into the consciousness, the never ending train of thought sticking to its tracks, blowing its whistle between your ears, before its head light dims to a glow. The wheel of childhood memories, acting as a music box, echoing giggles and better days. Like a carnival on the beach forefront, resting behind your eyes, each worker has a job. The wheel continues to spin, the sky is thundering with thoughts, the waves clamber to the shore - and it never stops. Its best if you let the scenario play out, sometimes they know whats best. Sometimes the greatest words, and the greatest art comes from little controlled thought.
Do you ever wish you could see the inner workings of someone's head?
I do.

I've started reviewing places around Melbourne. You can visit my profile at http://www.weekendnotes.com/profile/114552/ - Please help me get my view count up, so I can move up the ranks in senior reviewer.

I was at a concert last night at The Forum, and with general admission, we were standing near a barrier, happy to stand, knowing we were seeing a brilliant artist. In front of us was a reserved booth, that dozens of people tried to sit at but were turned away. Wondering who was lucky enough to get a seat, soon enough a bunch of girls arrived fashionably late and slinked their way in. One by one, they all drew out their iphones and I watched as none of them spoke to one another, but focused on updating their facebook status and checking in. In a dimmed theatre, the six phone lights kept catching my attention as they refreshed their notifications, and then sent messages. Even during the set, they were too focused on taking photos with the reserved sign, to then upload. I couldn't believe that they were missing one of the greatest artists perform, because they were too concerned with their own stupid identity.
Firstly, checking in - Yes I too am guilty of this, but why do we do it? Those close to us, generally always know our where abouts when we have a special event on. We've talked about the excitement, why we won't be home, or why we cannot attend something else. We let the other 500 or so know because, well, I don't really know. I suppose as humans, we're obsessed with other peoples lives, and quite possibly we want them to be jealous that we were lucky enough to get tickets, or we can bask in the glory of people taking an interest in us.
The most annoying part was watching the girls not interact with one another, but with others through their virtual reality. Was the company surrounding them not good enough? Is our immediate company ever good enough? I've been out for coffee with people and they constantly sit on their phone. I don't think anything is more rude, than someone being distracted away from you. The virtual world can wait, it can always wait, but the momentary cannot. It speeds past us just as quick at technology is changing.

I think we've stopped appreciating the momentary, what it surrounding us at a particular moment in time. Immediate interaction is so much more fulfilling than interacting through the virtual world. We're too busy trying to please people that don't even mean much to us. Writing status we hope to get a lot of comments on, why? to be approved by others? Facebook asks 'Whats on your mind?' and recently someone said to me, "Your thoughts are the only personal, private thing left." We're judged by what we wear, how we speak, our location, everything. When people are always in thought I'm a repeat offender of asking "What are you thinking about?" but I think I'll stop asking that, and I'll let you and your thoughts sit alone. We might as well savour the little bit of privacy we have left.

Lastly, I believe in feminism, but the thing I keep stubbing my toes at is the amount of provocative photos that appear in my newsfeed. You argue that you're empowering yourself by expressing yourself, and its a free world, so you can do what you want, etc, but you're taking away others choice of whether they want to see those images or not. I personally don't believe its empowering, but slightly on the desperate for attention side, but facebook doesn't give you choices. Unless I delete my friends or block their posts, I can't control what others post, and therefore don't have a choice in what I see. I've chosen to delete facebook because quite frankly, I want my privacy back, I want to savour the more important things in life, and I don't want images shoved in my face I have no interest in seeing. Lets go back in time, where we didn't know everything about anyone, but had to ask questions to find things out.

Does the mind actually exist? In theory, thought processes occur in your head, but the mind isn’t part of the brain. Or is it? It’s conceptualised into the soul, a part of us that we can feel so strongly, but technically, doesn’t exist. It’s not possible to view the mind in anyway, but it reveals its contents through every part of us. It seeps through the veins, to the tips of the fingers, to feel the uneasy feeling as fingers brush ever so gently. The pounding heart is linked to the mind, the unconscious feelings of longing, wanting, being. The turning stomach of a hundred paper thin wings of the ever so fragile butterflies attempting to escape. The unconscious thoughts that linger in the background, dangling every letter, every memory, on a non existent line, waiting patiently until gentle eyelids close. Dreams take you a million miles away; to another story, to another time. It’s like the mind offers a gentle hand, luring you out of control, but kindly leaving your body behind. “Come play,” it whispers, and ahead of you lies all the unspoken thoughts, all the inhibitions you ignored or failed to pay attention to. A mystical world where anything can be. How can something so powerful, not be viewed? touched? But just be.

To dream of brighter days, to feel the warmth of the sun etching freckles onto your face. Fingers trace palms, tracing crevices as timelines, fingering a history not quite known. “I dreamt a peculiar dream”, she whispered. Heart beats were synced in time, fingers sprawled through fine hair. He lazily wrapped the wool around her eyes, for those eyes were no longer unique. Same eyes, a different body. The eyes of naivety, where monogamy flourishes, where hope lives but a child plays. Needs had been met, he was content. A new age secret keeper, a new age individual; too greedy to dig their feet too far into the ground.

Finding Solitude.

It’s inevitable that everyone will see and experience change on a regular basis. I suppose if you seclude yourself, and repeat the same mundane tasks you may avoid any conscious change upon yourself, but everything, and anyone around you will continue to manifest into this strange and peculiar world. Sometimes I wish we had a say in change, and were given access to the controller of others, but only when this change may cause us great distress.
When you fall in love with someone, and you promise to forever cherish their heart and soul, did you promise with a conscious mind? Did you consider all the possibilities that life might throw at you? Surely one fell in headfirst to a pool of naivety, and was left with the unpleasant taste of a stranger staring blatantly into her eyes.

It wasn’t sudden, nor quick, but manifested over a couple of years, and change sneered into her face and snickered as it took everything away. Imagine this; A bed filled with warmth, that limbs wrapped so lazily, but so perfectly around one another. Everything seemed the same, a birth mark stamped into the side of the hip, the same shoulder blades and arch in the back you always dreamily traced your fingers over. The familiar taste, the familiar smell; the feeling of home. But all too quickly, and all too suddenly a stranger engulfed the space next to you and you spiralled into a haze of confusion and desperation for your lover. An uncomfortableness loomed to closely to your side, like a heavy weight that tugged on your hope and all those promises you made so long ago.

Like that, your lover was gone. If it was a break up you may have had the chance to sulk and whine into a mess of tissues and relinquish all the memories spent together, but lurking in the distance is a feeling of content and acceptance that would soon invite you over. But where was the break up? Where was the conversation and mutual agreement to go separate ways? There wasn’t. Changed just reared it’s ugly head and swept your pleasures and dreams into it’s basket and rode off to darker days. When someone succumbs and becomes so entrenched in change, they just disappear. The person you fell so deeply for, vanished. Just like that. Well, maybe no, it was a long process but for so long you ignored it that you repressed anything uncomfortable and filled the babble with positive, but possibly unreal, thoughts.

And then you’re left with this hole. ‘That’ person is gone. They willingly chose to climb so deeply into their unconscious, or maybe they were pushed in there by the id, who for so long had been hiding and drawing up a plan to destroy and master control. If only you could reach in and pull them back out, but sometimes it’s a little too late.