I am probably not the only one, to see music as a memory system for memories and chapters in life. Oh, I am? Fair enough.

I can click through random on my music player of generic mention and every song, instantly a memory. And sometimes I am sadistic cause I make myself listen to a song that makes me feel sick because of the bad memory.
“Rewind” – Stereophonics.
This song, as soon as the opening guitar starts I instantly smell a cold morning at sunrise, and the wet of the dew sticking to my leather shoes. I am walking from my house up to work at Gloria Jeans Coffee Shop to open the store. My mind is feeling really numb and exhausted, knowing my mum just walked out on us for another woman, it finally was revealed she was having an affair. And my own relationship with my girlfriend was rocky as I went inside myself because of what was happening to my family and accepting my own sexuality after going to ex gay counselling to get “fixed”. But the song also reminds me of the hope and reality of just being honest and real, and they were also from Wales, the Stereophonics, and I was saving to get to UK and live in Wales. So you know, tied in and was all making sense to me.
A bird flew into our window today, it was making all this noise throughout the office and I was on skype to my boss and yeah he just flew through and smack. The bird, not my boss.
I am attempted a gluten free diet (oh crap I am talking about what I eat during a day, does that mean my blog is getting self centred.. ) and then bought this cereal and it was nice and yum, but then noticed it had soy in it. I dont like soy. The milk was nice though, and the apple pieces.
A french man just called me on my mobile. Its 8:25pm here, he is a TV producer in France and is making a documentary about our company so wanted to touch base via phone before he heads over. Is it just me, or do others struggle with people speaking English in accents, especially French. There are only a certain amount of times you can say “what?” But also I think only Aussies would say “what?” instead of “Pardon?”
Missed call from Dad. He left a voicemail, wanting to catch up with my week.
Anyone collect coke bottles? This one is yellow!

NYC is my home. Born in Sydney and raised by the sea, I love the world and any opportunity to be myself. I like saying the word puddle.

One Comment on “Music and their chapters

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