Hi.

My friend Hui Ying just enlightened me on the kickass Up remix by Australian DJ Pogo. I can't stop listening, it makes me want to float in sunshine, if that description makes you any the wiser. It makes me bob my knees while waiting for the elevator, or for the pedestrian light to turn green.


A group of friends chipped in to buy me this lovely, lovely teapot (with babushka dolls on them!) and teacup/saucer set for my birthday. My life's mission at the moment is to make sure I pack it and transport it back home all in one piece.

It's coming down to my last week in Melbourne and being fortunate enough to have had sufficient time on my hands to take care of all the administrative details of shifting my life back home well in advance, I find myself with free time to absorb my last moments in this city as I see fit. Sometimes I feel like I can't leave this place fast enough, sometimes I feel a sense of regret pondering all the changes that will occur in this city once I'm gone; if and when I come back next time, I know a lot will have changed, this city shifts and morphs so rapidly. The snapshot of Melbourne I have in my head will be outdated. I go to the market and some part me wants me to remember that North Atlantic Salmon was $24.50 a kilo, that there were blackberries and blueberries and cherries and yellow and white peaches and nectarines all piled up, that bananas were finally cheap again after a year that saw them priced ridiculously high due to the cyclone that hit Queensland. Avocados and lemons, delis and bakeries, organic sections selling all the good stuff, things I probably won't be able to find easily back home. I worry about all the things I haven't tried yet, the nooks and crannies I've never explored, the food I've never eaten, the places I've never been.

There was a recent point in time where I was cresting at an all-time high, it seemed like things had fallen into place, that I had finally figured out how to live, and how to handle life, and while I fully realized I wouldn't cruise on this high forever, it felt like I had gained that level of maturity that enables you to ride out anything you face with a facet of grace. But of course that illusion came to an inevitable end, and I went through a particularly graceless period, and it scared the shit out of me, because it made me realize that I will never have everything figured out. Getting older and wiser doesn't equate to not making mistakes, and the possibility of fucking up is perpetual. I suppose that's just life, we're meant to do our best and stumble through, but I'm so scared of the stumbling and my ability to pick myself up after each fall.

If there's anything I wish for, I pray so hard that this year, this year that felt so fucked up at times; made me a better person for it, that I learned something, that I grew a new coat of resilience, that I have a better appreciation for my family and my friends, that I am less cynical, that I am less pretentious, that I am braver, that I am fitter, that I properly think before making a decision, that I smile more, that I am better. That I am better.

I pray I have the guts to own up to my mistakes, and that I am less selfish, less spiteful, and more sincere.

I am 23.