Posts Tagged ‘love’

To The Girl I Used To Be

June 30, 2010

This is a letter to my 16 year old self inspired by the lovely Kezza’s most recent post If I Knew Then What I Know Now.

Dear Luli,

Boys can be rats. You’re messing with one of the worst of the bunch, the rat who pretends to be a cute little mouse. Look inside to see whether his actions match up with your morals, because if they don’t, the boy is not worth the trouble. Trust me, even if he leaves now, there will be plenty of chances for you to change your mind, he always comes running back. Realising you’re worth more than his constant bullshit becomes a source of ego and inspiration for you later though, so I dunno. The shattering of your trust for men might be more precious.

Forget the cool kids! They are ridiculous and you know it! You’re too smart to waste all your weekends drinking until you stumble and befriending mean people who mean nothing to you in the long run. Some of them even turn on you. Your “best friend” especially, but she does it in a more elongated, tortuous, slow and malicious way that does not become apparent for years. All those popular boys are just pigs in the end. They hit their girlfriends and get drug addictions and have 3 baby mamas each.

Run away from them and go back to your friendly, sweet boys. One of which you know has a crush on you, who you have a crush on too. If you pass up the chance he gives you, you will regret it forever. He goes into a long term relationship with a chick who makes your life hell for a while, and is still seeing till this day! You’re still best friends with him, but there’s always a sad spot inside that wishes things went differently that will probably always be there.

You were blessed with a brain, with creativity and wit, so use these gifts! When you try, you never fail, so try harder. I know its easy to just coast by without doing too much and still getting ahead, but if you put a little bit of effort in you could go so far. Doing it now will make it easier for you in university, otherwise you start to lose motivation due to lack of practice and organisation. Studying is fun, you love to learn and to be an expert on different things. Don’t waste that brain of yours, engage and preserve it.

The person you are deep down is a lot cooler than you realise, so stop trying to hide her. Stop clamming up in social engagements, you’re actually good at talking and you’re very friendly. If you let other people notice then you would have a lot more fun in uni and at work. You learn to do it eventually of course, but the years you spend being a snob rubbed off on you and now your body language is probably always going to scream ‘unapproachable’. You are outgoing and eccentric, and the sooner you start letting that out the better your life gets.

Go easy on people, ok? Especially your family, they end up becoming the closest and most loyal people in your life. Nobody is perfect, and you can’t even live up to your own expectations, so when they do something you don’t like cut them a bit of slack and try to be kinder. Treat people and their feelings gently and strive to leave only a positive imprint on the world, not a negative one. Compassion is the most beautiful quality a person can have. You have the ability to make someones day much better by just saying a kind word, or sparing a bit of change, so try to do it whenever you can.

However, don’t interpret that as to mean you can let people walk all over you. If you don’t want to do something, don’t do it. If you disagree, speak up. Don’t be bullied into anything, and never act out of fear. Look someone in the eye and tell them exactly what you think. It’s liberating. Don’t worry about what others think of you, let them think. If anything, it should amuse you that you are on their minds. People love to pull other people down, but learn to trust that your opinion is the only one that matters.

You may not realise it at this moment, but the girl you are now makes some critical decisions that shape her path for a long time to come. It’s hard to say now, being your 8 year older self, whether these slip ups have chipped away at your character for good.. or made you stronger and wiser. We will have to wait for my 8 year older self to write to me, so that we can see. You’re still hopelessly naive, so maybe we still have a chance at reversing some of the painful events that have wearied you along the way.

Be strong, Luli. Adopt cats.

Love, 24 year old you.

“If I had to do it all again

I wouldn’t take away the rain

Coz I know it made me who I am

If I had to do it all again

I learned so much from my mistakes

Thats how I know he’s watching me

Nobody knows what life may bring

It might make you happy

It might make you sad

But I know there’s a reason for everything

That’s why I keep believing

Whatever’s meant to be is gonna be..”


Happy Valentines Day Mofos!

February 14, 2010

“She says that I’ve been waiting for you

And I know you’ve been chasing me too

Since they kidnapped me from a castle

I been thinking of you

I told her fire breathing dragon he bet not harm me

Or he be sorry when he meets my one man army

And thou has come to rescue me

My knight in shining armor yes you be

Woken up by the horn of an SUV

I said see, too beautiful to let you sleep!”

And if you don’t have a valentine, don’t fret, I don’t have one either so you can be mine. *^_^*

Show Me What You Got Shorty

October 13, 2009

“Why even fool with these other guys, they all stingy

All these dudes know how to say is gimme

Gimme some head, gimme some brain

Gimme your number, gimme your name

But if I get one night baby girl I swear

I’ll make you tell these other dudes gimme got ya here!”


My disclaimer is as following: I am disenchanted with the male population at the moment, as a long term single woman, I feel I am allowed a certain percentage of disillusionment with the opposite sex. Lets not get overly defensive, on the most part, I love you guys. I always give you a chance, perhaps naively, when I should be more closed to this kind of thing. Be lenient on my musings!

My question of the week is this: How long before a guy expects to sleep with a girl?

This is something I think obviously depends on the guy in question. You get an idiot guy, he wants it the night he meets you. A nice guy would wait longer before getting frustrated with you. A normal guy would expect it early, push for it if he doesn’t get it, and lash if someone else is giving it away for free. Oh my god, that sounded really bitter didn’t it? I’m sorry.

To be completely honest with you, it wouldn’t at all be out of line to call me a commitment-phobe. I mean, if you read the archives, there’s a lot of dating and a lot of me running away. Its hard enough to get me to settle down, let alone commit to them. And I won’t sleep with a guy unless I’m committed to him, which I think is fair. But my roadblock is always that he won’t commit to me unless he’s slept with me. So there’s a deadlock.

“Lemme get that huh, what you got up in them jeans?

Put it on me, or get lonely

Lemme get that huh, you know five car garages

Name on your bank account, all day massages

Lemme get that huh, I wanna put it on blast

Lemme get that, slow it down before I make you crash boy

Got what you want baby, got what you need

We can’t proceed less you got that for me..”


I’m pretty much my only single friend, all my kids are hooked up with someone and it’s like, once you’re out of the game too long, you have no idea. What is the waiting period? A week, a month, three months? Six? Sadly, my side of town is rather.. promiscuous. The people here don’t think twice about a one night stand, so the ones I could ask are going to have a very skewed opinion.

Lets not forget the times are changing. What was going down four years ago is not going down today. Sexual activity is on the increase, drastically. On any weekend you could decide to pick up someone simply for sex and that would not be unusual. Back in the day, it was less common. To me, its fucking wack. Along with this relaxation of attitudes I’m finding there is this notion of entitlement. A kiss is no longer just a kiss. It has to lead to something. Nothing annoys me more than when I’m with someone and we’re making out, and he tries something but I decline, and then he gets shitty because he thought it was going somewhere!

It happens so often that I’ve come to the conclusion that either I pick the worst guys to date or its just normal for there to be action within the first couple of weeks. Apparently, I’m the unusual one! Maybe I’m being unrealistic, expecting someone to wait when they could just go out tomorrow and get it without having to endure the whole dating thing. Has the sequence become sex, dating, baby, engagement? Am I completely out of the loop?

I know, I know, if he’s a good guy he won’t push me and he’ll be a complete gentleman and all of that. But its hard to believe in these magical elusive guys when I never run into any. And I have a large pool to select from, with uni, work, friends of friends, and guys I meet out and about. I’m starting to think someone’s been telling me fairy tales.

So has anyone noticed this change in the game plan? What are your experiences? How long do you wait?


“Truth or dare mami, listen and learn

I got a drop, I just took off the top

It’s your turn!

Show me what you got lil mama

Show me what you got pretty lady

Show me what you got shorty

Show me what you got baby

Hands up, now wave, wave, wave..”


March 26, 2009

“The place we used to be is still a part of me

And I’m so fortunate lady that you still need a piece of me

And I know that you’re waiting, see I’m only down town

You know I roll alone girl, I’m never with a crowd..

Take me back to the day when you made me fall

I want to go, I want to go

Make me feel like you did the very first time we ever touched

I want to go, lets just go..”


I went to stay at my great-grandmothers place these holidays, and while she passed away when I was five and the house has been renovated since, it still has her feel and her essence. You can’t escape it. Maybe it comes from knowing her, knowing what kind of woman she was and how caring and selfless she was. But how can you really know what kind of person someone is when you’re five? I knew she was loving and kind, and thats all I needed.

One of the first things we did was walk around and check everything out, see what we remembered and what was new. Touch and prod and feel and try on. Her mink coat was gone, a tribute to her classic style. She was pearls and 1940’s curls, designer chic for dinner and nautical colors as she relaxed around the house. We stared at a glamour pic of her from her youth, she must have been early twenties. “You look like her, ” my sister said. And I was surprised to find I agreed with her. We have dark hair and the same nose. I felt like family for once.

One thing really struck a chord with me as I sat down in her old torn recliner and looked at the room from a perspective she must have, day in and out, for decades. I could see the tv in front of me, to the left was the window with a view to the garden of the front yard, and to the right was a portrait of her husband who died a long time before she did. She must have looked into his eyes everyday and missed him.

“Sure as all that breathe will die

And showers fall from April skies

A heart thats pure won’t be denied

The kind of loving that will rock you

The kind of loving that will keep you

Hold you for a lifetime

Even in the hard times, even when its going down..

You’re gonna find someone’s riding with you

You don’t have to be alone, you just have to hold on

You’re gonna find true love..”


What happened to the love from back then? The one that lasted forever, long after your husband has gone. The one that left you believing you’d be with him one day soon, that he was waiting for you.. These days it seems like marriage lasts 7 years, and love lasts even less. How is it that our grandparents marriages last forever, but everyone else is divorcing? Theres some element they have, that we don’t. What is it?

Maybe its because we don’t truly appreciate the other when they are with us, what they do for us, or that it takes effort every single day to make things work. Maybe its because we’re so trained by consumerism to never be satisfied, to always want more or be looking for something better, an upgrade.. Why do people leave each other, when others can make it work forever? We raise our kids in the era of divorce, it feels like every kid has gone or will go through it. And with that kind of backdrop, how can we expect them to believe in a love that lasts more than a few years? Its no wonder everyone is always breaking up.

But when I sat in her chair it wasn’t hard for me to imagine getting a portrait of my own husband, and of days spent there warmed by the suns rays and our own affections. I hadn’t even considered marriage before that, aside from maybe eloping in Las Vegas or something equally as vague. I’d definitely never thought about the part after. But now its a big question in the back of my mind.. What has happened to everlasting love?

“When I think about it

I know that I was never there

Or even cared

The more I think about it

The less that I was able to share

With you

I try to reach you I

Can almost feel you, you’re nearly here

And then you disappear..”


Dreaming Away..

March 11, 2009


I fell asleep beneath the flowers

For a couple of hours

What a beautiful day..


I dream of you amid the flowers

For a couple of hours

Such a beautiful day..”


There is not one day that goes by, that I don’t sit and stare blankly, day dreaming some crazy fantasy that will most likely never come true. Maybe I have a childish or naive mind, maybe I’m too airy and lack discipline, but imagining worlds that are far better than the one I reside in helps me get through the day. Especially with the monotonous shit I do at work.

It usually begins with what I decide to wear. I’m always dressing in characters or themes, although very subtly. The elements I put into the outfit only hint at the persona I’m actually going for, in my head its far more extravagant and over the top. For example, some days I will wear a lot of bright colors with chunky gold and the extension of that in my head is a very street, ghetto New York look, straight out of the hood. In my head I’m wearing a bandanna and sneakers, but in reality that ain’t my style. So if I’m doing that character my speech is all of a sudden peppered with phrases like “we chillin” or “yo, b, wat up?”. The saddest thing is I’m not even lying.

One recurring theme is anytime I wear boots, I start imagining that they are elven or superhero style and picture myself an acrobatic heroine, who could do backflips and leap off buildings if she chose to. While walking around my office I’ll pretend I have some sort of elf-like grace and natural stealth, when in reality I am a clumsy and awkward fool. The other day a cute guy checked me out in the kitchen and I spilt tea all over myself instantly, so you can see how this graceful thing would appeal.

“One summer night

We ran away for a while

Laughing, we hurried beneath the sky

To an obscure place to hide

Where no one could find..

And we drifted to another state of mind

And imagined I was yours and you were mine

As we lay upon the grass there in the dark

Underneath the stars..”


Another one I think of is while I’m on the train, I imagine suddenly it comes to a stop and we look outside and see the country has been invaded. And that the train is being looted by some rogue soldiers, who are killing people at random. Suddenly, the hot guy across from me who I’ve been sneaking glances at grabs my hand and we run to the emergency exit. We jump off the train and decide we better go country, I suggest my bush holiday house, he agrees. From there we make elaborate plans to win back the world, but mostly just fall in love. That one actually has a few variations, like zombies have taken over, or we’re not on a train we’re in a shopping centre. They mostly revolve around some crazy world crisis, where somehow only I have the power to save the day and by the luck of the gods, get a super attractive guy to hang out with while doing it.

Usually if I’m walking somewhere, or doing anything with my ipod on, I’m imagining the songs to be the soundtrack to the movie I’m currently in, which is basically about the story of my life and is ongoing and endless. Except its a little bit Truman-esque in that I don’t yet know it will be a movie, just that my life is *so interesting* that they’ve been filming me forever and its keeping the nation riveted. So naturally, when I’m pissed off the angry music comes on and I stomp through the train station with a fierce scowl. Or something nice has happened, so I put on a cute song and look out a window with a thoughtful and dreamy expression. Shit like that. I never get tired of it.

“Happiness like this it never lasts

Turns into the memories of the past

Here today and gone just as fast

And I can’t feel the ground

Someone let me down

I said I’ve never been so high

As I am now..”


Oh, and I re-do conversations constantly. After the actual one is over, all the calls I should have made come floating into my brain and I start kicking myself, wishing I was more quick witted. Like once this girl came over to my desk and had a sook that I didn’t put something in a work document, and being passive and neutral Luli I just said “Sure, whatever.” Then later I was like, ‘Who the fuck does that bitch think she is, getting all up in my face like that? I should knock her block off!’ Gradually it got more and more heated in my mind, and the conversation evolved from what actually happened to some kind of crazy girl fight slap-down. Naturally I’m the winner because that girl isn’t tough enough and doesn’t have my Westside edge, but you knew that already. Anyway it took a lot of soothing thoughts and DeMello-style ‘letting go’ before I could forget that daydream. Still to now, everytime I walk past her, the face jabs come creeping back into my thoughts.

And my favourite one, that sends me off to sleep when I’m feeling like an insomniac, is my dream life played out before me. The life where I didn’t make any mistakes, and I never got with my ex, and I was never best friends with that bitch, and I never fucked up my VCE.. The one where I got straight into my course without doing TAFE first, where I actually gave my number to that newspaper editor when he asked for it instead of telling him I was too young to apply. Where I’m already overseas, in the trenches, with my trusty cameraman and guide. Man that life is so awesome.

What do you daydream about?


“And I see

Heaven when he looks at me

In his smile is the most amazing dream

And in his eyes I fall asleep

And I hope

Hope that he can see through the smoke

Of my imperfections into my soul

And my heart where he has control..”

In 2009 I Will Stop Dating Psychos

January 8, 2009

Now that I’ve sufficiently tantrumed it up about Palestine, I can relate to you the enchanting experiences that have been my on and off holidays. Our busy season at work is right now, even for the mindless shit I have to do, so unfortunately I couldn’t get all the days off but I did manage to party hard and will continue to do so on weekends as is the usual Luli fashion.


Let me begin by telling the tale of my date on Xmas eve-eve. I went out for drinks after work one night with my sister in law, who I would describe as the hot librarian type. As with all hot librarians, after a few drinks she cuts loose and gets wild, so its always an exciting night when she gets involved although you would never pick her as the crazy type. We were in for a big one, trawling from pub to bar in the city, ending up at Transport in Fed Square. Luck of the gods, it was Tradies night! I have never seen so many hot, built men in one area before, and without the usual packs of females stalking them like lionesses hunting for prey in African savannas. Probably a ratio of one girl to twenty guys, so I was loving my odds.

The guy I met seemed awesome, a bit older than me at 28, soon to be turning 29. He only really stood out because he gave good convo, I was all set to lash on him and his friends when he said something too smartassed, but my girls were like ‘Nah stay!’ and he apologised so I let him off the hook. Anyway, whatever, he got my number and we decided to go out for a movie a few days later.


On the date we went to see that Bond movie, Quantum of Solace, of which the title is probably the best feature. I was so bored, sorry to the Bond fans, but I’m gonna put it out there and say it has absolutely no appeal to anyone with a need for a decent plot in a movie. The action was constant and so fast that I couldn’t keep up with it, plus the Bond guy isn’t even hot.

So bad movie choice by him. Not only that, but he kept talking bout his exes for like a hundred years, telling me they had psych issues (one had anorexia, the other had cancer and depression) and asking me multiple times if I had any. It was like he wanted me to. The way his convo was going was revolving around him being this major hero to every female character in his life, and to be honest it was all weirding me out a bit. I felt like he thought I was a weak psych issue girl who he wanted to depend on him, so he could be in control. I was getting predator vibes, especially when he kept trying to hug me and kiss me in the cinema. I would just wriggle out of his grasp and was careful not to look at him incase he surprise kissed me. Is cinema PDA inappropriate to anybody else? 15mins into the movie I knew I wanted to ditch him, but I didn’t want to be harsh. I would at least stick around for after movie coffees.


After movie coffees were worse. He asked to see my id (WTF WHO DOES THAT) and I was like “Don’t you trust me?” and he’s like “Nah, I do,” but still persisted in seeing it. Later I realised how dumb that was, coz now he knows my address. When he gave it back I go “Did you memorise the numbers?” talking about the birth date, and he got all flustered and was like “What?” And when he realised I meant my DOB he was visibly relieved and I thought nothing of it till later, but yeah. So I’m a fuckhead. Plus he knows where I work too. And during the convo he kept lying and switching his stories around to suit what he thought I’d want to hear, which I picked up on a little the first night, but became way more obvious during coffee. He cracked the shits when I took the bill, and when I asked why he goes “Because you’re the girl.” Sigh.

A few days later I told him I didn’t wanna continue it, citing age as the major factor. In all honesty, the age didn’t bother me, but it bothered him so I figured if I said it he would understand and it wouldn’t be too painful. The thing is I’m feeling a little stalked by him. He called me like two days later at 4.30am but I missed the call because I was obviously asleep on a Tuesday night at that time, and he’s mes’d me but I didn’t reply. Now today he’s trying to add me on facebook and I ignored him, but with much anguish. I just want him to fuck off. I have a new sim ready to change my number if he persists.


New Years Eve was pretty good, just got very drunk, and seeing as I was still recovering from my bad date I was wary of talking to boys and decided to never pick up at a pub/club/bar ever again for my resolution. It can only end in psychos and awkwardness. So far, so good, but resolutions are made to be broken and I’m going out this weekend for the hot librarians birthday so I’m guessing its gonna be tested. I talk like I’ve been on it for ages, and its only like 8 days into the year! Damn my flirty drunken ways.

How were your NYE’s? What did you get up to? Resolutions?

Merry Xmas

December 26, 2008


I love the Xmas season and spirit, I used to be excited by presents, but leading up to this year I was just like ‘Blah, we all buy each other gifts, whats the point, who cares..’ There was nothing I could think of that I wanted, or that people could give me that would excite me because I have money, and I can just buy what I need for myself. And I stress out when I buy for others because the hugeness of my family means I have to take a lot of time to find stuff, and I want to get them something they would want, not just look at and think ‘meh’. So this year I thought, I only ever want clothes so thats what I’ll get them. Plus I know clothes, so it was an easy way out.

I was completely blown away by the gifts I recieved from people. When you get a gift, and you didn’t even want anything and it turns out to be something you love, its the best thing ever. Because it means that the person who gave it to you truly knows you. They get who you are and what you are about. I never realised how much my family actually knew who I was, but those gifts proved it. And it is so comforting to think that I’m understood.


Some of the stand out things were a set of artists and charcoal pencils, because I used to sketch quite well, but I stopped drawing because I suppose being creative got pushed down on the list of priorities when I started partying, working and studying. But not long ago I was mucking around with charcoal and it was such a pleasure to use, so someone was obviously paying attention and its nice to be encouraged.

I got a little golden argile, or shishka, or hookah, or whatever you call it. To me its an argile, and it reminds me of the nights I spent in Lebanese homes, playing cards and having fun without alcohol, because they were all Muslim. That was a big part of my life, I was always at a function or visiting someones relatives, doing the 3-kiss cheek thing and shocking people with my Arabic. But I haven’t thought of that life for a long time, its behind me.

Anime, clothes, Gilmore Girls dvds, a manicure set because I’m always painting and preening my nails, a palmistry book because I’m into all that, as you would know. It would be a nice prelude to reading someone’s Tarot if I could check out their palm first and get an idea on their life. They all lead to one another, Tarot, palmistry, runes, astrology. So once you’ve learnt one, its a lot easier to learn another, because its from the same school of thought. And you all might roll your eyes, but I like to think I have an intuitive gift for reading.


The present that made my eyes tear up was a book from my mother about Australian foreign correspondents and some of their stories and anecdotes. She’s never been a fan of me learning Arabic or hanging out with Muslims, or involving myself in politics and defending things she didn’t understand. We had a bad relationship when I was 16 till about 20 because I was so immersed in it, and she seemed unfairly biased, so I just shut her out and she resented it even more. We mended ourselves and we’re very close now, she is one of my closest friends and we think of ourselves in a Gilmore-esque way, but for her to give me this book just stunned me. It was like saying, ‘Hey I know we always had our fights, and I disapproved of your plans to go to Palestine and fight for something that has nothing to do with you, for reasons I never got, but I believe in you. I know this is what you want to do and I support it and I’m going to help you.’

I always had doubts in my mind, but when you see that people truly do believe in you, and think you can achieve your goals it gives you so much confidence. I’m used to defending and persuading people to understand what I want to do, I’ve never been supported or encouraged. So that gift meant a lot to me. All of them did. Its one thing for people to say ‘You’re okay Luli, we get you, we understand you,’ because words are malleable, they come and go, they can be empty. But when you are shown that you are valued, it means more than anything that can be said, and its concrete evidence.


This Christmas I expected to be drained and bored, and instead I was left inspired and awed. I feel like people know me, and that makes me think that I’ve fully developed myself, who I am and all of that. It gives me confidence and a feeling of happiness that is unmatched by anything I’ve ever felt, because I’m sure of myself now, and all I want to do is make other people happy too. Because I know that through whatever I can always be okay, but not everyone is given the tools or resources I have for finding their own happiness. Some people are slipping, and some have given up altogether. And some don’t have the kind of support base that I’ve been blessed with to draw inner strength or peace from.

To me Xmas is about supporting and showing family and friends your love in a blatantly honest way, because during the rest of the year it can sometimes be hidden and unknown. The second part is reaching out and doing whatever you can to help those who are not as fortunate as you are, because we are not all born with the ability to help ourselves. And there is nothing more uplifting than when someone says to you, “I’m behind you, and I’m going to help.”

It gives you hope.

Streets On Fire

November 14, 2008

“The stars are aligned and the path is colliding

The plan is arriving and she’s out there smiling

The fear is upon us, the skies tried to warn us

Your parents are goners, no children to mourn us

It’s driving me crazy, this war is my lady

The bombs are our babies and God is amazing

The tick of the timer, the slip of the rhyme

Of the pimp and the rise of your fall’s

Where you’ll find her..”


There’s one image in my mind that I absolutely love. It’s a scene and a life that I don’t know but want to, that I can feel but haven’t really experienced. Anything that resembles it always appeals to me and I can’t even explain it properly. It’s one of those things that if you get it, you get it, and if you don’t, well there’s no way to describe it to you. I don’t even know how I came across it, but I think if I had to choose a place to describe the workings of my mind and what it looked like, that would be it.

This song comes pretty close to depicting it. It’s by Lupe Fiasco and was written about the AIDS virus, but told through the story of the Streets, a female essence that controls all life in the city. She’s the hustlers and the drugs, she gives you the luck and she takes it from you, she brings the warm breeze across your skin or the rain on your back, she lets you die or live, and she chooses your fate.

When you listen to that, you might be able to see what I see. It’s Tokyo, in the rain. Its summertime, so it’s hot. Neon lights are flashing at me and surrounding me. It’s an urban setting, with graffiti on the walls that makes it street and gives it that feeling of rebellion, but there is still a sense of something ethereal and natural, something bigger than the city and everything in it. It makes the city pulse, it makes it alive. It makes love exist and the meaning go beyond the simplicity of live to buy, buy to live, where the rich should control it all. But they can’t because life belongs to the Streets.

It’s a love story as well, behind the words. It’s in the music. Its two people searching for each other, and when they finally connect in the city it all comes to a crescendo, and the battle becomes their fight together against it all. It could be Hong Kong or Seoul, under siege, troops scouring the city for the enemies, fires burning from barrels, and two people trying to escape and save each other. They’re part of the rebellion, or maybe just civillians, but with the population all but evacuated, the city belongs to them. And the Streets are on their side. But whether they survive or not is beyond them, it’s up to her.

“Believe some say the neon signs

Might allow speakers repeating

And everything is fine

A subtle silence

Could demolish the troubled conscious

Of a compass with no knowledge

And every freedom denied..”


There’s something in the song that calms me, its like despite the rush of the city and the frantic struggle to make it, there’s something around us always that’s soothing and has been here long before we have, and will be here long after we’re gone. You can see it in the rainbow shining from the oil in a puddle on the tar, or in the reflection of the lights on the night sky. We might not make it, but we’re in it, so all we can do is live.

I don’t know if you can see it, or if you’ve seen it before in other things, other songs. I see it in anime, in warm rainy nights, in neon cities, in Lupe Fiasco’s album The Cool, in graffiti, in the style of the Melbourne fashion kids, in hot weather, in gyaru girls, in anything that glows in the dark, in clouds that look like they could hide angels.. It’s just a feeling I get. It’s my favourite feeling. I once tried to describe it in a piece called The Tokyo Slum, but I failed. Maybe you understood it, or maybe you didn’t. Anyway, that’s my mind. I live there. Let me know if you can see it too.


“The sadness, the madness, the bad shit, the lavish

The fastness to clashes, the ashes to ashes

Everything intertwined

My femme fatale my darling fraudulent angel

Once caught her changing her batteries in her halo

Receipt for her wings and everything that she paid for

And the address to the factory where they made those

The scientist says she’s all inside my mind

The little boy said “What happened to all the girls?”

The preacher man says she gonna kill off the souls

The dope boy said it’s the whole wide world..”

Miss You, Love You, Peace Be With You

October 29, 2008

My grandmother died yesterday morning. My mother woke me up to tell me and I just said “fuck”, but in the way where you mean “God dammit”. I knew it was coming because she’d been deteriorating fast these last couple of weeks so at the start it didn’t hit me. Then I thought of the date and I thought, ‘the 28th of October is always going to be the day she died from now on’, and that made me cry. Then I thought of Dad.

He’s in India for work at the moment and all I really want to do is hug him, because I know he would be struggling, but I can’t. My dad is emotional like me, or I’m emotional because he is, and he pretends he doesn’t need support but deep down he does and he wants it, but would never ask. We had a horrible couple of hours trying to get through to him, its Hindu Christmas over there or something, and I was frantic because I thought maybe he thought we didn’t care enough to call, and felt alone. Theres always this thing in the back of his head where he thinks we don’t care anymore, or we don’t need him since the divorce, it always plays on his mind. He knows its wrong but its his fear. So I was really freaking out trying to get to him.

He said he was okay though, it won’t hit him till he gets closer. I know he’s just frontin because its hit me already and I have only a fraction of the bond he had with her. She had a pretty tough life, she had to quit school at twelve, then she got married and worked on a farm raising nine kids. She had domestic troubles with her husband and they eventually divorced. My dad has father issues because he was one of the younger ones, and was around when the fights broke out, and naturally tried to step in and defend her. He hated his dad, but he loved his dad, and they had a fucked up relationship because of all that shit. It plagues him and he can’t move on from it because he died years ago and they never talked it out. He still can’t watch father-son movies because they make him tear up, and he’s a man who never cries.

Anyway she had to move off of the farm because she couldn’t look after the whole thing herself because she’s not an army, but she did damn well for one woman. She was always really tough and strong, she worked hard her whole life. She was pretty strict too, but I remember the older she got the more relaxed she was, and she was the best story teller. She would pick up her trinkets and tell us where she got them, and she loved kinder surprises. She’d make the toys and put them in her cabinet with the rest of her story props. She gave me a little porcelain seahorse, that I can’t find now, and a tin with pictures of beagles on the lid because she knew I liked them because I had one. And she’d always give us kids five bucks each when we came to see her, which was heaps back then, to buy ice cream or lollies at the shop.

In the end she developed dementia, she couldn’t live by herself. It was a big kerfuffle within the family because we didn’t want to put her in a home, and I don’t know all the details, but I think some of the pushy ones bullied the weaker ones into signing her up without everyones consent. I remember one particular aunt was thought of as close to the devil for a while, but then my grandmother got a lot worse and we just concentrated on making sure she was comfortable. Not long after, she didn’t know where she was or who we were, and I know that really upset dad a lot. She steadily deteriorated until finally yesterday she passed. She was 92.

Love you Granny. You deserved a better life.

Mon Petite` Meow & The Prince Of Orange

September 24, 2008

Pooky don’t know if want.

Since its such a beautiful day outside, I’ve spent a while out in the front yard, watching my cats frolic in the garden and I thought it would be a good time for a cat tribute. I’ve already asked Domino to do the same, and if anyone else feels like showing us some of their pets over at their blogs then go right ahead. It can be an impromptu meme, if you like! They bring us too much joy, it would be wrong not to give them a shout out every now and then.

My story begins on a dark and stormy night, it was about 3am, and me and my best friend at the time were driving around in my car eating junk food. We often went for late night cruises out of boredom. Suddenly, I spot a log on the road, so I swerve it and it moves! We scream as we feel the car bump over something and realise it was a cat. In a panic, we turn around and stop the car to look for it, but alas, it was nowhere to be found. I hated cats back then, so I was like ‘Oh well, what can you do?’ and we left.

Crown Prince Of Orange

A few months later we were at my same friends work and one of her co-workers had a kitten he was giving away. She couldn’t take it as her parents were strict so I said I’d take it off her hands while we found him a home. The poor thing had been left on a box on the guys porch in Deer Park (which to my knowledge has some kind of fox infestation) and during the night the foxes had eaten the mum and the rest of the babies and left this poor kitten to cry into the lonely darkness, knee deep in their blood.

Curiously, as I raised this defiant and haughty little beast, I began to find myself feeling protective of him, and defending him against my family when they screamed for him to be out of our house. He wasn’t properly toilet trained and would leave presents for us to find and it drove my mother crazy, who already hated cats with a passion. I remember when I started uni again and couldn’t avoid leaving him home without me he got cut and left a few presents on my bed. He was a snobby kitten, but he could be so loving when the mood struck him, and he followed me around meowing after me. Suddenly.. I was in love. We named him Cattie, after his cat-like qualities.

I are DuneCattie, I controls the spice.

But I had to give him up, so one day I bundled him up and took him to the Boi’s house, who told me he would take care of him. Cattie and I cried the whole way, me from devestation, Cattie from fear of this moving room he as trapped in. But it had to be done. Three days later the Boi calls me and says, “Luli, I can’t handle this fucking cat! You have to take it home!” I was ecstatic with joy, and I hid him behind my handbag as I walked up the path to the front door. But my mum, the spy of all spies, had already seen him and yelled “Luliiiiiiii!” as I walked through the door and grabbed him out of my hands. I start to protest to defend him, but then she started kissing his head and patting his fur. She had missed him! After that he was a permanent visa holder in our house.

My beloved Russian Blue kitten was actually my mums idea to get. He was born on the 18th of December, like Brad Pitt, and we got him when he was 8 weeks old. It was during my uni holidays again, so I took the position of primary caretaker. From the moment the tiny thing saw Cattie, they were rivals. The kitten skitzed up and went psycho at Cattie when he tried to sniff him out, and we were stunned by his courage and feistyness. As he grew he became almost completely dependent on me, following me everywhere, eating when I told him to, sleeping on my tummy. And he was so loving, I couldn’t believe it, all he wanted to do was climb onto my chest and give me kisses. He even tried to stroke my face with his paws.

Mon Petite` Meow

He had a split personality. On one side there was Pooky (aka The Pook, aka Chim Chim, aka Pook-e-mon) who was affectionate and cute, and on the other side there was Charizard, this psycho scratch machine who climbed the curtains, or the wall unit, or anything tall, and chased Cattie (aka the Prince of Orange), who is at least 4 times his size, around the room. He also loved to lurk in the shadows and wait till someone walked past and jump them. Mum wanted him out of the house, he left us even more presents than Cattie had. I couldn’t believe it. She let me fall in love and then wanted to drop him off at a centre that would most certainly kill him after a few weeks. I wasn’t having it, and we had the most savage fights we’d had since I was a teenager about it.

Eventually the Tsar calmed down a bit, and got even more lovable so we never had to get rid of him. Till now he is obedient to no-one but me, he comes whenever I call him, no matter how far away he is, he follows me from room to room even if he sits on the other side, just to be around me. He scratches everyone but me, and I’m the only one who can change him back to the Pook when he’s in Charizard mode.

Charizard, bat-dragon Tsar of evil.

But I always get scared about Karma, and wonder when it will strike me. I took away someone’s Cattie or Pooky on that night. It would be the perfect revenge to make me, a cat hater, fall in love with a cat or two and then have them be run over. Everytime I enter my street I slow down to 5km just to make sure.. But I know one day I’m going to have to pay the price.

Also, I talk to them in lolspeak.. Does anyone else do that?