status quo

We had wine and we had good times. It's remarkable how family members are so familiar, comfortable, easy, and at the same time so remote and self contained.

Most of the time I feel that I understand exactly what's going on, but then she heads off on some tangent (much like I have a tendency to do) and I sit, shaking my head and thinking, shit, I don't get this - what's she on about?!

But life moves.

It's an unsettling feeling to see someone you love in a place that you know she doesn't need to be in, somewhere that doesn't do her good. It makes her money, good money, it keeps her from thinking about all the things that would pop up if she were to stop op and give her life a thorough once-over. But it's hard work, life happens, and she justifies it happening to her by saying that she is making a choice to earn the good money (and she is) and ignoring the fact that she's, well, ignoring.

Sometimes I wish I didn't have this ability to see other people struggling. That I could also ignore and just get on with it.

A whirlwind brings me home, too fast, I wish I could stay on my bike, feeling the cold air, and hearing people look at me. The cherry trees are blooming, it's very confusing, here in late November. Buses and taxis flow by in a steady continuum, young girls show their belonging to different social arenas. Some flash all they've got in shiny sequined, skin tight, mini-what evers, others cover up in woollens from the 70s and wear the trilby, sign extraordinaire of a middle-class twat.

And I go home.