From the less green side, to the greener side. With no love, Sara.

Well, we had a chat today, Ger and I, and the age old question of "why does size matter?" came up. I guess it's not meant to matter. I guess it does. Life is life, c'est la vie, they tell me. They've told me everything, this world. That sometimes fat is good, that fat is unacceptable. That fat means you aren't working out to your best ability. That you were born with fat. That fat just means lack of self control. All half-truths, and all mortifying as one hand goes around the waist to cover a torso in an effort to conceal what we think is the ugly truth (but it isn't ugly. It's just truth. And sometimes, raw, honest truth is beautiful).

I don't want to justify my own size. I know I could be smaller, fitter, slimmer... and so could everyone else. But sometimes I have a creeping feeling that it matters more than it should. And that I should just love me for me. *shrugs* I guess I do sometimes?? I should more often..

Ger told me that Claisebrook cove is the most expensive area in perth. Dreamlife was birthed there, and I don't know where that will take me because I reckon that is all it really is: a dream. Maybe one day, something extraordinary will happen and I'll find myself back there.. I just have a strange feeling about that place because I feel like I've seen it in a dream before..

I cannot wait to go back to SG! And I get to see Joanne.. I miss her too! Oh man.. I'm just jumping junipers here!