Hopeless Musing #32



Source: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/332562753732079548/


I keep waiting for your call.

I was hoping you wouldn’t forget me today.

Why is it that you make me feel so loved, and so alone, all at once?

But now it’s nearing midnight… have you forgotten me? I wonder when you’ll remember me.  Even as an afterthought.

That would be enough.


But perhaps it is simply me, who is not enough.

I Wonder.

A poem.


blink and you’ll miss it

life is gone quicker than it comes

i wonder what is in store for us


when we open our eyes again.

Editor’s Note: NOVEMBER.

Christmas is HOW FAR away?!

Excuse me, but where has 2019 gone?!

It feels like only yesterday we were welcoming in 2019 with fireworks in the sky and drinks in our hands… And now we have to start thinking about putting the Christmas tree back up!

They say time flies when you’re having fun… but I think time just flies in general these days – even the days I spend in bed depression-napping seem to be over so quick I can barely remember when I had a shower last.

It’s always this time of year that I start to get both anxious, but also more relaxed.

Yes I know that doesn’t make sense. On the one hand, there are bills to think about, the cost of holiday-time (presents, parties and putting up with undesirable family reunions). And on the other hand, November always promises nice weather (in Australia at least), beers by the beach and longer days, with prettier sunsets.

Green Christmas Tree With String Lights
Photo Of Pineapple Wearing Black Aviator Style Sunglasses And Party Hat

‘Tis The Season…

This year, I’ve decided to cut back on all the novelty crap that comes along with the Christmas Season.

Yes, I’ll still put a Christmas tree up. Yes, I’ll probably dress my sausage dogs in Elf outfits. And yes, I probably will still gain 5 kilograms on Christmas Day from binge eating prawns, cherries, ham and chocolate coins from my siblings’ stockings.

But what I won’t be doing is bothering with the things that don’t contribute to my mental health or happiness.

I’m talking about things like putting up with toxic family members. Or buying unnecessary plastic crap to fill stockings and make the pile under my Christmas tree look bigger or better than someone else’s.

Or wasting money on presents that get opened and forgotten about the same day.

I’ve decided to make a small list of things I want to make happen this Christmas, to truly get back to what Christmas used to mean to me:

  • Don’t Blow The Budget
  • Stop Competing With The Jones’
  • Be Environmentally Aware
  • Appreciate Moments

1. Don’t Blow The Budget…

There have been so many past years where I have spent hundreds, if not thousands of dollars on presents for people.

What I have noticed over the past few years though, is that the list of people never gets shorter, only bigger.

And people’s expectations never get lower, only higher.

Two Gray-and-green Christmas-themed Gift Boxes

So this year, as I start planning my list of people who I want to gift a present to, I’ve decided to:

  • Make some of the presents myself;
  • Cull the list – some people could probably just get a well-written card, and;
  • Stick to my list – no ‘extra’ presents

Maybe that seems a little ‘un-Christmas-y’ to some, but for those who know me, know that I always go out of my way to make everyone’s Christmas amazing. I spend extra on presents. I fill stockings that I bought for siblings I shouldn’t have to look after (but obviously do). I do the whole song and dance.

But the last few years of doing this has left me with a feeling of being unfulfilled, broke and just downright exhausted.

Woman Taking Photo Of Christmas Tree

2. Stop Competing With The Jones’…

Just because someone has it ‘better’ than you doesn’t mean what you have isn’t perfect as it is.

In this age of social-media and instant gratification, it’s so easy to get caught up in the hype of Christmas time.

We don’t need new decorations every year. We don’t need to tell everyone how much we’ve spent on each child or loved one. We don’t need to compete with anyone, in actuality.

Christmas is a time of love, understanding, peace and coming together with people we care about.

Who the hell cares if Sally down the road bought her daughter an iPhone? Who cares if the neighbour up the street has ‘outdone themselves’ this year with the decorations.

I certainly don’t anymore. I just appreciate the fact I have people I can share my life with.

Sometimes we need to remember that there are so many people worse-off than us. People who don’t have family to spend Christmas with. Single mothers who can’t afford to buy their kids the latest gadgets. We need to appreciate what we have.

3. Be Environmentally Aware…

As the future looms ever closer, my household is more aware than ever of the Climate Crisis on hand.

So this year, we’re planning on reducing, reusing and recycling where we can.

That means things like: using paper wrapping. Not buying cracker that contain little plastic toys. Composting leftovers. Gifting things that help the environment, such as plants, eco-friendly bath-bombs, and not buying plastic and tinsel decorations where we can.

There are so many ways to help the environment – but sometimes it takes a conscious choice.

Photo of Landfill
Round Gold-colored Analog Watch With Pink Strap

4. Appreciate Moments…

That’s what Christmas is all about, right? Spending time with loved ones? Catching up. Taking a break.

The other day, I drove my sister (who I look after) to IKEA to buy a new mirror and clothes rack, because we had moved house. Then I spent a good chunk of time sitting on her bedroom floor helping her build them. I love helping her. I love her. And I love building IKEA furniture.

But after we’d put it all together, and helped her hang her clothes, she did something that I loved so much, that I went away and cried (don’t tell her that though).

She came up to me, gave me a hug, and said: ‘Thank-you, I couldn’t have done this without your help.’

And maybe I’m a cry-baby, but that moment was so amazing. It was so nice to be appreciated for a small gesture. And that’s what I want my Christmas this year to be all about.

The small things. The moments that make you tear up a little. The warm, fuzzy feelings that make Christmas feel like you’re 7 again, when you woke up in the morning and Santa drank the beer you left out for him and his reindeer left a half-eaten carrot on the dining room table.

I’m sure I will talk to lots of you beforehand, but I hope you guys have a wonderful November in the lead up to Christmas! And for my American friends, I hope you enjoy Thanksgiving and get to spend time with your loved ones – because that’s what this time of year is all about.

Until next time! x

Hopeless Musing #30



Source: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/474918723206764986/


Some people turn our hearts to fire, and others turn them to ice.

But it doesn’t matter how long it’s been since I saw you last, your presence is like light. As soon as I see you, my problems melt away, burned by a fire that could never die.

There aren’t enough good words in the English language to describe how much I care about you.

But every day you walk this Earth, means I continue to walk it too.

Book Review: All The Light We Cannot See.

A review of: All The Light We Cannot See – By Anthony Doerr.

Source: https://www.readings.com.au/products/18759436/all-the-light-we-cannot-see


All The Light We Cannot See


Anthony Doerr


Historical Fiction








‘All The Light We Cannot See’, by Anthony Doerr, is an incredibly moving story of a blind French girl (Marie-Laure) and a German boy (Werner) whose paths collide during the second World War.

Both Marie-Laure and Werner have very different struggles as the war begins to devastate Europe. Marie-Laure re-locates to her Uncle Etienne’s house in Saint Malo from Nazi-occupied Paris, while Werner escapes his poverty-stricken orphanage in Germany by securing himself a place in a Hitler-Youth Academy.

Marie-Laure begins to go blind at a young age, and has to learn to navigate the world in a completely different way, with the help of her father, who works at a museum. Young, determined and capable, she finds solace in the wonder of the outside world – feeling her way through sounds, smells and miniature models of the city, made by her father.

Eventually, Marie-Laure and her father must flee to her reclusive Uncle’s house, who lives in a tall building on the coast of Saint Malo.

Across the border, Werner lives in an orphanage with his younger sister Jutta. Inquisitive and exceptionally bright, Werner tinkers with old radios, fixing an old one up to listen to with Jutta. They listen to a nightly science program together, which inspires Werner, who writes down his many questions about the universe in a small journal.

Werner’s talent with fixing radios soon makes him popular in the village, and his skills in math eventually win him a spot at a coveted Hitler-Youth Academy – where he can escape an otherwise gloomy life of coal mining in the village.

Eventually, Werner finds himself amidst the action, helping Germany locate radio signals from the enemy, where he sees first hand just how damaged the country has become.

My Thoughts:

‘All The Light We Cannot See’ is a true work of art. The parallel lives of Marie-Laure and Werner are wonderfully written – it is teeming with detail and single moments that took your breath away. The back and forth story-telling by Anthony Doerr provides a stark insight into how utterly different the lives of two young people can be.

The story-telling in this novel was incredibly detailed, reminding the reader that there is an unseen world all around us, filled with love and loss and everything in between.

Although heart-breaking at moments, this novel was beautiful and truly moving to read. This novel writes in a way that made it easy to see just how easily our fates can be woven and unwoven, without ever knowing what could have been.

My Rating: 5/5

Hopeless Musing #27



SOurce: https://weheartit.com/entry/333961481?context_page=3&context_query=plant+photography&context_type=search


Sometimes I wish I could throw my phone away – in an age so hung up on technology, how lovely it would be to send letters to you.

Writing my feelings was always so much easier than saying them, but when they’re stuck on a screen, they don’t feel as real. They become just another another status update, another tweet, another instant message… another meaningless, emotionless stamp in time. Just one button-click away from each other.

But there’s something so much more authentic, when the words on the paper have traveled miles, days and across continents, just to reach you.

I miss handwriting, I miss ink smudges and tear drops and accidental errors, scrubbed out and re-written.

I miss unfolding and folding beloved letters, reading and re-reading, until the paper grew worn and felt like velvet at the folds. I miss seeing the letters and words on pages ripped from books and notepads, that weren’t perfectly typed, but written, scrawled and scarred – imperfectly perfect – a story in a story.

But mostly, I just miss feeling something real.



Hopeless Musing #26




Sourvce: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/725642558686989301/


I told the stars about you.

But they already knew who you were.

You shine brighter than the rest ever did, simply by existing.

And yet, they still love you, just as much as I.


It’s hard not to love someone made of stardust.

Hopeless Musing #25



Source; https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/166422148710607935/


They say dissociation is like watching yourself in a boring movie, hyper aware that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

You’re in your own head, but outside your body – staring at a reflection that you can’t seem to recognize as your own.

But it’s hard being in your own head all the time.

No one else has to hear the million tiny voices inside your head, all saying different things for different reasons at different times. Making you feel different.

No one else would want to know me if they knew the things I kept locked tightly behind a door, nailed shut and set alight, for fear of what might come tumbling out of the void.

My mind moves, but my mouth doesn’t. If only people heard the words I wanted to say. If only what I felt and what I said weren’t on two completely different planets to each other, living completely separate lives.

My facade of self-confidence is hiding a self-loathing so deep I don’t know how to stay afloat. I simply sink deeper into the depths of this unhappy existence, all made up inside my mind – sabotage of the self.

I float in a world where no one else exists, and the smallest sounds echo, and my only friend is my reflection – which doesn’t even look like me.

Maybe one day the person I see in the mirror will be someone recognizable and capable of talking back. Standing up. Having a voice. Able to make waves and swim out of the cave I’m in and back to shore.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to find a home, where the house is warm, and there’s tea on the counter and I won’t have to drown anymore.


Hopeless Musing #24



Source: https://weheartit.com/entry/331467118?context_page=3&context_query=peony+bouquet&context_type=search


It’s peculiar, how some people seem to stroll into our lives as if God had them made especially for us. Their very essence is like a gravity made only for us, drawing us closer to them without us noticing, until we look in their eyes one day, and realize exactly what they mean to us.

It’s heartbreaking and beautiful, all at the same time.

It’s the most peculiar thing. They tell stories of a life before you knew them, and yet you feel you were there all along.

And you both know it, but you dare n’t say the words aloud, for fear the world around you both will come crashing down.


Drains & Grates.

A poem.


The sidewalk is littered with traces of souls, blown by the wind from another place, in a hope that they might be remembered.


And forever is a myth, we only have now, but the best of humanity walk in the light of hope – giving up their lives and their loves for what may be, rather than what is.


Love can only sustain the tragedy of our souls for so long, before we too become littered on the sidewalk, hoping to be remembered.


We mere mortals were never meant to be celebrated in the way we celebrate ourselves – perhaps that’s why we end up with the leaves and the rubbish, caught in drains and grates with no where to go.