ontheblog&beyond

i've always had quite the fascination with tarot readers and psychics alike, someone who holds in their palm a collection of tokens that speak to a past, present and future that exists in "what ifs" and "maybes". such a practice that encourages overthinking of mundane situations and reevaluating of memories supposedly set in stone, it's a wonder why the most anxious person in my own periphery continues to hold onto these nonsense practices like a religion. alas, there's something I just can't let go of about all the possibilities that someone with a scale of answers can possess and share when the right question is asked. finding what lies beneath all the wishy-washy of crystals and mantras, there's a tad more science of the sun and the stars than meets the eye which has to be one of the many whimsical things that brings me back to this 'other' idea of religion. according to a bunch of math that has to do with my birthday and other numeric...

dating in this day and age doesn't seem to have the same appeal as the Netflix produced rom-coms suggest, and coming from someone who hasn't been on a first date in nearly 4 years - the odds of that number refreshing are as slim as the chance that i'll be walking down the centre of a room to wedding bells any time soon. long-winded for an opening line, but the sentiment is as full and overcomplicated as the sentence itself.  when i was 5 years old my parents would ship myself and my sister on the road with them to visit the distant relatives and even at that young age there were three things i could rely on occurring before the days end  zia would get emotional, hysterically crying as she insisted on one or ten more hugs before we stepped foot outside her home on the return to our abode there would be enough food to feed a battalion and leftovers to spare i'd be questioned about the whereabouts of my boyfriend, a dating profile and a save a date for the wedding  seems a...

Adults are horrible people. They are laced in the misfortune of their past and the yearning of their childhood.   All seems doable until a mundane fact swoops in to turn their train of thought into a sea of turmoil. The relationship with their brain is both too complicated and yet too simple. Yes and no answers are always laced with explanation, even when it is not required. Love is a fleeting emotion overcome by the desire of stability. Feet now planted firmly on the floor after being swung in the air.  Once laced with the depressants of liquored lust and sweet nothings.  Bombarded by the realities of documented lies and losses.  Unacknowledged endeavors now keep us up at all hours of the day. The nights then filled to the brim with unactioned conversations. We tumble around the 'will they won't they' trope. Until the clichéd unrequited love looms overhead bursting the bubble that is your ego.  Black holes seem like appropriate resting places. We're made to fee...

it's here, that dreaded odd number that swims by its lonesome. not old enough to be an adult, but not young enough to see the world through rose coloured glasses, doesn't sound all that fun to say either does it? during lockdown the doorbell going off with deliveries has never been such an exhilarating rush of endorphins, although their longevity is too short lived as the days continue treat yo self (lockdown parks and rec upgrade) is a dangerous game to play with your skin, but your tastebuds will thank you answering the landline as my local Police Department will always make up for those delivery lost endorphins, especially when it's the bank calling long lasting traditions being ceased is a real jolt of realisation, adulthood is hard and sadly friendships rely too much on proximity  yoga with adriene can make all the tightness in your body and in your chest settle, so be glad that you've got humans who keep you accountable for that please remember to insert your corr...

here we go again. it's that time of year where your parents start getting excited about their 'big girl growing up', your sister tries to not so subtlety disguise her way through a conversation about gift-giving, and you've started feeling the birthday blues. i was not aware of the alliterated label already attached to this feeling in the urban dictionary, but alas there seems to be a word for everything. although, the definition doesn't seem to encompass all my birthday hatred correctly. you see, when I turned 20 I was in luck. my bandmate booked in a bunch of gigs for us over a 3 month period and I made no mention that my day of aging overlapped. i saw this as a gift. wrapped up with a neat bow of news we were out of town for this gig - precisely 166km away. this was going to be the best birthday yet, because why would a bunch of boys freaking out about their gear squashed up in a car pay any attention to the little girl singer who was going to age another year in...

I'm baffled by the amount of variations of "I don't know" one person can convey in a subject line. There's double spacing and ill formated punctuation. Half a sentence taken over by a derailing train of thought and a finishing touch of a phrase that comes off as a question instead of the solution I was hoping for. No wonder sleep has been such a struggle. Last night I had a conversation with my soundboard to make sense of the days one liners and distractions that took away from my getting anything done. No sense of accomplishment or pride from me, just uneasiness about what my tomorrow would bring. Here I am hoping that there was a way to influence my 9-5 outcome, but those ambitious days drain the bank of energy you'd need for a week with sharon.  Subject Line: What's the office phone number?? That email had to be the highlight of my day and yet I still couldn't muster even a giggle when venting to every breathing mammal that would listen. A women who...