i can never think of a good way to start a journal. i dont have any good news. i dont have any bad news. i dont have any new art to obsess about. i dont even have music anymore. but still, the urge to write to that anonymous someone drives me to write journal after journal. so whoever you are youd better be reading and enjoying.

but this time i have a story.

i had a day off on thursday and to pass the time i went into the city. i made the silly decision of getting off the train at central instead of the usual town hall, because it was a closer walk to where i decided to go. it was a bad decision. on the way out of the main archway you have to walk past platforms one and two. this is the place where all the countrylink trains arrive and depart. i stopped. i ended up standing at the top of the platform for about 15 minutes, staring off along the train line. there werent any trains there and there werent even any people. i can remember another time. there was a train, pulling into the station. the front of it was blue. then having to stand on my toes to try and see someone amongst all the other people. and then, there she was. i dont remember what she was wearing, or even what we said to each other. to be honest the rest was kind of a blur, until we were on another train which was headed in the direction of my home. and i took a photo. wish i could find it again. the reason why she was on a countrylink train was because she lived 8 hours away. this platform at central station, as well as things like cradle of filth and queen of the damned and even starbucks has painful significance for me. these things are all things which remind me of one person.

• • •

i found it. it took a bit of looking, because i had hidden it. she was wearing black. i know why i cant remember specifics now. she always wore black. i look young and stupid. i still am young and stupid. there is another photo of us here, because we had met up before and gone to the movies together. i met her mum that time too. much like her daughter she wore all black clothes too. we had gone to chinatown that time to eat dinner. i cant remember what shop it was that we went to, so i just dont go to chinatown anymore. i dont go to chinatown anymore because this person that i am talking about left me for someone else; an obese staff member at her school. im not even sure he was a teacher. he was and still is almost ten years her senior. im not even one year older. twas a messy breakup. well it was hard for me. i was left with nothing and she had the new partner, a few weeks after she left me because she "wanted to be single again".

later, she had the nerve to tell me that they were coming to sydney for some reason. i cant remember why anymore. she wanted to see me, and for me to meet him. still wounded i said yes, reluctant to meet him but wanting to see her. i thought of it as an opportunity to give her the CoF cds that i had bought her for her birthday. i dragged myself all the way into the city, not wanting to go but going anyways. i made it to her hotel. i couldnt do it, couldnt wait for her to come down, so i dropped off the stuff and i left. she texted me when i got back to central, asking what happened. i dont remember what i said, or what she said, but i ended up on my way to a music shop that we had visited together before. still reluctant to be meeting the man that she had left me for i got to the shop and waited. and waited. and waited. she never showed. they had apparently accidentally (i think on purpose) caught the wrong bus and it had taken them in the opposite direction. i left the shop and went home. ive never seen her again.

even today listening to CoF makes me feel sick. ive not been in a starbucks since. i really hope she is looking after that bear, because at the time it actually was a gift from my heart. as meaningless as a coffee shop promotional is. i still dont know why she called it what she did. maybe it was just a name. maybe it was more than that. i dont know. lol im going to force myself to read queen of the damned. the last time i watched the movie was so long ago. i hope that the book is alot different, like how movies made out of books often are. maybe this is the start of a long overdue healing process.

i guess the moral of the story is that you should never ever associate a time or a place or a band or whatever to one specific person, to protect these things from being totally rejected by yourself because they remind you of them.