list

Things I do to pretend I am in familiar spaces:

1. Choosing particular teacups (rose with a chip in it or white with dark green rim).
2. Playing particular songs.
3. Working upstairs instead of downstairs at the desk in my room.
4. Sleeping with the curtains open.
4.1. And sometimes the window if it's not too cold.
5. Remembering my sense of smell.
6. Planning dark walks to no-where specific (but being unable to follow through).
7. Grilled cheese on toast.
8. Sending my bank account backwards and remembering I am young.
9. Glitter everywhere.
10. Dresses.
11. Making plans to drive to Albany at higher hours on weeknights.
12. Listening to the rumble of cars going over the white lines on the edge of the motorway (but knowing they're going home and I'd rather stay here, just not here).
13. Scrubbing mold off the shower ceiling.
14. Washing the dishes without using the dish rack.
15. Inorganic collection wooden tables next to my bed.
16. Gate-crashing shows which I'm not supposed to be performing in.
17. Watching shows at Gundry St.
18. Being in busy places on my own.
19. Catching the bus.
20. Bjork.
21. Buying lunch from Long Black.
22. Wishing for faces that I claimed as my own without permission.
23. Making plans to catch up with people who should be my neighbours.
24. Running across roads in front of cars.
25. Red lipstick.
26. Cutting my ankles shaving.
27. Avoiding my own bed.
28. Looking in the windows at the flats above Mt. Albert shops.
29. Spray & wipe + paper towel on mirror.
30. Fashioning some sort of blog post.
31. Talking to beautiful faces in bars.
32. Talking to familiar faces at parties.
33. Running from flattery.
34. Entertaining ideas of knowing myself.
35. Not wearing a seat belt.
36. Drinking wine which tastes terrible.
37. Staining the carpet.
38. Avoiding sleep.
39. Showering at night.