Anywhere else you could possibly go after New York would be, a pleasure cruise.

It's 3:05am on a Friday night and I'm laying in my bed...alone...pondering.

I've lived in New York for years now, and that alone is very hard to comprehend.

What happened to 2011?

Most of my time here was a blur.

A blur of alcohol and nights. I spent months dedicated to different people, yet in reflection they seem no longer than the blink of an eye.

New York is weird....or at least my New York is weird.

Being here doesn't feel like life.

My day to day doesn't exist.

Living here is like fake living, and the days seem to pass much quicker.

You don't have time to be, because you are always going with no end goal.

When I first moved here I worked nights, and followed up all shifts with alcohol.

I don't think I even saw daylight for months on end.

New York broke me in a way.

Many ways.

I've reached a point now where I am unhappy surrounded by it.

Unhappy with the same people, places and things, always, everywhere.

So I avoid being surrounded by it.

Today I woke up at 10am and forced myself to go back to sleep so I would have less time to kill.

That isn't living.

In the past these feelings would force me into a relationship.

Another way to kill some time.

Killing time so one day I can wake up at 52, wondering where all my years went.

The truth is, I'm full of talk.

One minutes I'm moving to California.

The next I'm going home to Australia.

A few more fleeting moments and I'm back in New York forever.

Last year I went home to visit my Mum 4 months in a row to get away from this place.

And I cried every night before I had to return.

I'm unhappy and anxious here....always.

Which is why I'm leaving.

The how doesn't even matter.

Simply the where.

So bring me a map on a cork board and a lucky dart and I'll figure the rest out later.

Write a letter that you will never send.

Wednesdays.

WhAt Is A bLoG?

 Everybody and their mothers has been messaging me today about plans for tonight...like who hurt these people? Do they not know it is freezing outside? Stay indoors, read a book.

I think maybe I've been doing too much of that considering I'm drawing a blank as to what is actually been going on...I mean Valentines happened. I spent majority of the day standing outside of a Methadone clinic in the snow handing out Valentines to strangers, not even the cute European tourist who offered me a kiss could make that task even remotely pleasant.

 I then made my day even worse by hanging out with a rapper...not my rapping ex....or the rapper I hung out with to make said rapping ex mad.....a different rapper....as someone who doesn't believe in having a "type" I'm starting to really eat my own words...

(Just kidding...unless Harry Styles becomes a rapper...in that case, yes rappers are my type)

(Say rapper one more time, idiot)

But hey, it wasn't all negative!

As a pre-diagnosed cold hearted asshole, I'm not big on the love....but I fuck with the candy and cupcakes involved...(also, did you know there is now a #love sweetheart? like what kind of 21st century tomfoolery is this? dumb.)

I've come to realize I've now lost all blogging ability...

I simply ramble some words, chuck in a few ill placed and often exaggerated ellipsis, litter it with a few awful pictures I randomly found in the black hole of my iPhone camera and call it a blog.

I've lost my touch.

RIP me.

Help!

 I've recently become obsessed with the The Beatles. The music has always been appreciated simply because I have ears and I think the rest is history, but as of late I've become more and more fascinated with the men behind it.

It all stemmed from a dream I had, and somehow melted in to me just watching documentary after documentary, interview after interview. It's quite sad really as it has kind of cut into my Harry Styles obsession but hey there is plenty of crazy to go around!

The last interview I watched was a recent interview with Ringo Starr, where he basically spoke for ten minutes about how he really is the luckiest person in the world. It's no secret that he was far from the best drummer in the world, yet it's what he loved and it's what he got to spend his entire life doing. He spoke about being a musician and thanked his lucky stars (pun intended) that he gets to call it a career for he has never truly had to work a day in his life.

I want that.

Well I mean...not the drumming or the fame...but the obsession, the love of ones job. I want to love something so much that it doesn't feel like work. I don't want to choose whether I live to work or work to live, I don't want it to matter because I want my work to be a part of me as cliche as it seems.

I could watch JK Rowling talk about Harry Potter all day. She loves what she has created, she knows every single facet. She is obsessed.

I want to be obsessed.

Even on the mundane level, even if my love is something as simple as working in an office for the rest of my life, I want to find it.

I like my job right now, but it's simply a stepping stone on cobbled path and I'm dying to get to the destination.

I know they say you shouldn't wish your life away, but if we could speed up the discovery, or at least give me some kind of road map on how to get there my deepening frown lines and frustrated tear ducts would really appreciate the break.

21 is hard.

The most interesting woman in the world.

Is it too cliche to complain about winter?

Because I am really at my breaking point with winter.

I'm ready to regain feeling in my extremities, and the perpetual hot mess in me is extremely ready for the sidewalks to be something other than giant slabs of ice for me to bust face on. I could continue for days, nitpicking ever minor detail of winter I dislike....but I'll save you the time...to be fair, winter isn't my only concern.

Weather in New York is the worst.

Sure, those few short weeks of fall and spring are quite lovely...but for 87% of the year, the weather is quite awful. Too hot and crowded or too cold and well....hellish.

You can't win them all it seems, New York has many wonderful things but alas, weather will never be one of them.

My dad constantly tells me that when all you can talk about is the weather you have a problem, it's the default small talk so with that in mind I must quickly segue away.

I'm way too interesting to be talking about the weather...

I bought a coloring book the other day...

Don't judge me! I've been dealing with a lot of indoor snow storm time....aaaaand we are back on the weather.

Ok fine, the word "interesting" is relative.

Haters.