Nymph

we have a new housemate.

Nymph visits from across the road. her parents are happy for her to visit as long as we refrain from feeding her. she is soft and bites like Tiggy used to when she was agitated.

Nymph is in fact an angel. it’s nice having a cat around again.

she is oblivious to the joy she brought into our rainy day. so effortlessly she’s made me smile without even trying. that’s a magical thought. <<

nothing but light and a camera

it’s all moving very fast. trying to stay on top of things without taking it all too seriously. already leaning three months into the year - the time makes less sense the more it passes. classes provide adequate distraction from personal frustrations with myself, though I grapple with the urge to be doing something with my heart. I miss being creative, though longing is an old friend at this point. I still wish we could just stop, or slow down at the very least. it could be nice to live and breathe on my own terms. <<

new friends

a few nice reasons to get out of bed

the walk to the train in the morning rewards those willing to wake early enough to see the angels. <<

surprise

Isaiah surprised me. I couldn’t leave the house but I got to see him for an hour or so whilst I was putting on fresh sheets. I love and miss him so much. we spent our childhoods together at home and I wish I didn’t take that precious time for granted. <<

more rain

we had a day without rain yesterday. Toby, Vita and I went for breakfast. Jeff took us to the markets and we had some snacks in Chinatown. Nic, Elise, Jara, Mitch and I went dancing, and we had a lovely time. it didn’t rain yesterday, but it started again today.

I’m back to worrying about schoolwork - a favourite distraction of mine. it gets in the way of me thinking too deeply about more important things, and for this I’m sometimes grateful. I would like to fly through the next few months of work, though I know this would mean facing important decisions I already wish I could run from. I’ve trapped myself with a deadline, leaning on assignments as a means of forgetting the fact that I need to make up my mind.

I haven’t written any poetry in months. this happens more often lately, and though I know it shouldn’t mean much it does make me sad. I’d like to find the time to listen to myself properly like I used to so well. but time isn’t in excess right now. one day is a climb and a slide to the other side, knowing the same is to come with the following morning. I try to move at a pace I can manage, so much slower than I swear I once was. but I’m still here and waking to every new day. <<

Tiggy

I was on the train on Friday morning. it’s been raining a lot and doesn’t seem to want to stop. Dad texted to let me know that they were going to say goodbye to Tiggy in the afternoon.

my earliest memory is of the house, which mum and dad found not long before adopting Tiggy. Isaiah came along a few months later, and since then, our family has remained unchanged. this is something I realise I’ve taken for granted for the longest time. I know now it’s difficult for me to comprehend how lucky we’ve been to have each other to lean on and love for so long.

Tiggy has been at the heart of our home for over twenty years. I treasure the nights she’d jump on my bed and claim my room as her own to sleep. I’d return home from school or work to find her curled in a ball, content in being still and unconcerned with the busy wide world around her. I wanted to be more like Tiggy, unphased by the hustle and panic of it all. still and content in watching it all pass from her perch on the head of the sofa in the lounge.

she’s been a dear friend and sister. I don’t think I’ll truly realise she’s no longer with us until I’m home again, which is a matter of months. I miss home, and I do think Tiggy plays a part in that. I could cry with her and shut out the world outside my room or beyond the couch on which we lay. she’d purr as she slept in my lap.

this goodbye means parting ways with another relic of my childhood. there’s symbolism here, and a good deal of emotion too. as my parents bury her before the bird bath a dear friend prepares to welcome her third child into the world. two school friends commit to a new chapter together after facing different decks of sadness. the world cries for Ukraine, Yemen soldiers on without a single report in the West. I’m sure there’s someone sweeping the floors of Lansdowne as I type, preparing to welcome patrons in a matter of hours after a long day’s work or study in or around the village I still miss so much. a lot going on all at once. beginnings and endings and perpetual happenings. Tiggy and the world. precious to me in present tense. <<