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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.


Originally uploaded by Abstract Magdalene.

I remember when things were easy, like writing in your journal, posting pictures, getting them off you brand spanking new Sony Alpha, having a reliable memory to check the box to see if the usb cable is in there....

the good ol' days.

Everything I mentioned, is something I cannot do right now. For one thing, I've already forgotten the password for Blogger, so I now update through flicker, using the favourite photo of the day.

I've also not been able to get the photos off the camera because surprise....I don't have a proper usb cable because we had to pack my new camera in a different box to fit all the little 'extras' I'd gotten in, with it. And the usb cable has been misplaced in the shuffle.

It's kind of funny, because I also lost the power adapter for my older Sony camera somewhere......I *have* to get back on track, I think all this stillness inside my head and around me, is making me more nuts.

Which brings me to the second part of th update. I'm seriously thinking about moving back to London because...I miss it. And the park, oh the park...I miss that too. I miss my sister, my friends, my nephews (I am going to worm my way back into their father's heart somehow so I can see them), and the other nephew, the new mini.

I want to get back to work, and attempt to be 'normal' again. You know, with a savings account, a kickass apartment, and matching dinner ware. I'm going to do my best to get back to that level of awareness. I hope to get to New York city eventually.

Oh, and the picture above...that's Hawksley Workman at a show from last Spring. Front row seats, we were sitting five feet away from him. I was so embarrased to be sitting face to face with him. I felt I was 10 years too late, and should be wearing neon pink legwarmers and a extreme left ponytail. You know what I mean, the screaming girly fans that stare up at the performer like he's the second coming.

I'm too old for that now.

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