Really Don't Care

"But even if the stars and moon collide

I never want you back into my life

You can take your words and all your lies

Oh oh oh I really don't care

Even if the stars and moon collide

I never want you back into my life

You can take your words and all your lies

Oh oh oh I really don't care

Oh oh oh I really don't care"

Really Don't Care - Demi Lovato feat. Cher Lloyd 

I have never shied away from writing blogs to people. Sometimes I write them because I simply cannot put the words into real life what I want to say to them. Sometimes they have gone - they've left my life or passed away - and I feel this blog is the only time I have to tell them something. I've written to friends, family, co workers, to people I've briefly met and to people I will never meet. But now for the first time, I'm writing to someone who will not listen to me. So, for nearly all of you, this blog will be an entertaining story about a troublesome person in my life. One that, as you will soon find out about, I really don't care about anymore. 

Let's begin where it all broke down - the reunion. When you see someone for the first time in a while it's never going to be easy sailing. Whether it's your best friend or a mere acquaintance, there is a distance created by being apart. There's moments of awkwardness, hesitation about which subjects to bring up - do you stick to the good ones or do you venture into the bad times you had to go through together? And really, after all this time, how much can you say you really know about each other?

It got off to a decent start, I guess. There was banter and laughs with the others and it seemed like maybe everything was going to be okay. I suppose we are both lucky we can joke about some of the things that happened; I am a fan of being able to laugh at the past. But as the night went on things started to go downhill, aided by our best friend and worst enemy: alcohol.

I knew at some point there would be an intense conversation. Imagine my relief - after months of thoughts and feelings and confusion, written only in this blog, I would be able to talk to you. But, oh, how it went so badly. It's a pet hate of mine, to ask me a question and then not bother to listen to my reply. Or even better, to tell me to explain then walk away without a comment, leaving me to my own emotional mess. But I pride myself on knowing myself better than you ever will, so I came prepared with the tissues, because I knew I couldn't get through a whole weekend without there being a few tears.

One of my favourite parts was the spun story about backing off because you couldn't bear the feelings. I should have picked you to run from emotions. Or perhaps I should have picked you to tell stories to try make me feel better. I guess I'll never learn which one was the truth. You asked me so many times whether I was mad at you and I said no every time, because I wasn't until we had this little chat. After that I was filthy mad with you, something I think you always wanted to try feel better about yourself. 

Though perhaps a little thank you is in order for this night - you walking away meant I walked straight into the arms of another man. It's funny how distant one becomes when they're no longer the centre of attention.

There's a line which stands out to me in Really Don't Care: I can't believe I ever stayed up writing songs about you. That's what it was: Demi Lovato writes songs, I write blogs. Either way, you pour your emotions into words and a few months later it just seems like silly thoughts which never resonated with the intended target. Maybe that's what will happen again here - but at least I tried.   

I don't like you and I don't care about you, but in a funny, twisted way I will always have a touch of love for you. That's what happens when you come on my emotional roller coaster ride, and I never forget those who climb aboard.

That's nearly my whole story. There is just one thing left - the happy ending. Well it's simple: I am perfectly content with creating my own happiness and my own stories and memories with people I really care about. 

All The Small Things

"All the small things
True care, truth brings
I'll take one lift
Your ride best trip

Always I know
You'll be at my show
Watching, waiting, commiserating

Say it ain't so,
I will not go,
Turn the lights off,
Carry me home"

All The Small Things - Blink-182

When you start travelling you meet all sorts of people: the partiers, those interested in the local cultures, even those who are sulking about being overseas (an odd bunch of people these ones). Sometimes when travelling you only get a few days or even a few hours to get to know someone and then one of you moves on. From these limited interactions it becomes quite common to have a generalised opinion of them, even though you hardly know much more about them then where they are from and what they do. I recently had the opportunity to catch up with some people I met while doing my first travels through America and my original impressions of them changed, and there's one in particular which brought me to writing this blog.

It started when I found out they read nearly every post I write, and I had no idea apart from their comments on one travel related blog. It's one of the biggest compliments a person can give me, saying they read and like my blog. There are people I know read this blog every time a post goes up and I value their feedback. But there are others who read this and I have no idea who they might be - but that's the internet for you. 

It shouldn't seem too out of the ordinary that he reads this given how many random blogs and articles we click on every day, right? Well, this person also happens to be the loosest person I have ever met. I have never seen anyone party as much or drink as much as they do, to the point where I was nearly fearful of them. I honestly have no idea how they made their way on their travels given the nights we had out. It was all in good fun and towards the end of the trip I wished I had gotten to know them a bit better. When I reunited with the group recently the guy was, without a doubt, still one of the loosest people I had ever met. It's like that's their thing, their one big impression they want everyone to remember them by. 

But as this reunion went on I began to see the smaller things. The compliments about my writing came out again and the support offered about a few of my sadder posts. We talked more and actually listened to one another (a topic which I intend to cover more in my next blog). We laughed and danced to terribly awesome 1990s music with the rest of our group. And when some idiot made me drunk cry at about 1am we drunk sung Shake It Off together. I always knew they weren't a bad person but I never knew they were such a good person.  

There were other revelations about my travel mates on this reunion - like the girls who turned out to be lovely and fun and not at all stuck up like I first thought. And then, unfortunately, the people who turn out to not be as good as you once thought. I guess it works both ways. 

I love all the people I meet while I travel, as they are part of a huge adventure. I enjoy their stories and goals and visions for where they are going next. I wish I could keep in touch with everyone I meet and get to know them a lot better, but realistically that's not possible. I take what I can get from people as I go, and sometimes I'm lucky enough to meet them again, and maybe some of them will really turn into my life long friends. 

Back Home

"See, we won't forget where we came from
The city won't change us
We beat to the same drum
No, we won't forget where we came from
The city can't change us
We beat to the same drum, the same drum

(Hey!)
La-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah
La-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-doe
(Hey!)
And no matter where we go
We always find our way back home"

Back Home - Andy Grammer 

I'm home. Four months on the road and I'm home. 

Melbourne - Perth - Brisbane - Sunshine Coast - Byron Bay - Sunshine Coast - Vietnam - Perth - Adelaide - Melbourne - home. 

I left with one thing in mind: to find out what I really wanted to do. It was an open planned adventure. I didn't know if I wanted to travel and explore new places or if I wanted to live across the ditch. I had planned out the first five weeks and let the rest fall into place. This ended up meaning my time in Byron Bay was extended with a night's notice, a trip to Vietnam was booked three weeks in advance and while I tried to settle in Perth for a bit I woke up one day and thought "I'm ready to go home". People asked me why I was heading back. The best answer I could give was "it's not working". I didn't have any luck finding a job and as I wandered around Perth I lost the desire to live both there and anywhere else in Australia. Perth is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever been to and I enjoyed my time but living there was another story. I wasn't ready to live away from home. 

Along the way I met people with great stories. They came from all over - South Africa, England, France, Sweden and America. They were on youth visas searching for work, or just visiting because they too were not ready to live away from home. I met one girl who had her visa but decided to cut it short because she couldn't bear to be away from home for Christmas. I met a Grandmother from Pennsylvania who was doing conservation work in Adelaide - this was her time in her life to leave her kids behind and travel. It was these stories which helped me develop my own and realise that I just had to do what was right for me. 

To be honest, I didn't think I figured out what I wanted to do. I'm back home, unemployed and living with my parents and not sure what my next move will be. But I did figure out what I want to be. I want to be happy. I want to find the good in the bad. I want to be able to trust the vibes of a place or trust what my gut tells me to do without doubting the consequences. I had the amazing time doing what I wanted and needed to do. It wasn't always easy - there were tears and fears and confusion but I always kept going until I knew it was time to come home. 

Now I'm back I'll settle for a little bit here then consider my next move. But no matter what sights I saw, and I saw some amazing sights while I was gone, nothing compares to home. A lot of people asked about New Zealand and I always replied with "it's the best place in the world". Before I left I blogged about not forgetting your roots and I held true to that promise. I'll come and go from this place, but I will always call New Zealand home. 

Here's a few travel snaps of the best times with the best people

Cycling the suburbs of Perth

On a junk boat in Halong Bay, Vietnam (a beautiful place)

Melbourne reunion with my American contiki mates

This is just a sweet brag of the time I met Andy Grammer (this didn't happen overseas)

Walk

"I'm learning to walk again
I believe I've waited long enough
Where do I begin?
I'm learning to talk again
Can't you see I've waited long enough
Where do I begin?"

Walk - Foo Fighters

I posed a question to my Facebook friends near the end of last year partly to research for this blog and partly because I was curious: if you had to have one musician visit you on your deathbed who would you choose? The only restrictions I put on the question was if you wanted to pick a dead person you also had to pick someone living. The rest was interpreted by the person answering - why they were on their deathbed, what you would talk about with the musician and for how long, etc.

The results were, of course, vary in and interesting. There were obvious deceased choices - Michael Jackson, Nat King Cole, Johnny Cash, Bon Scott and Jimi Hendrix. Others, still living, were Ben Harper, Michael Buble, Annie Lennox, Sol3 Mio, Keith Richards, Robert Plant, Britney Spears (during her prime era) and a lovely gesture from my uncle who would like his son, a musician, to be beside him. I'm glad to say I have friends who make good choices on their deathbed - there was no mention of a Justin Bieber or Drake being called to the bedside.

Personally I would want to talk to Dave Grohl, lead singer of Foo Fighters. I did filter through a few choices before deciding on Grohl - I considered Taylor Swift, Hunter Hayes (though he was vitoed as a recent obsesssion), Jimmy Christmas from Luger Boa and John Cooper from Skillet. While these musicians, and many more, would be incredible to have visit during your last moments, Grohl is my number one pick because of his stories. I imagine lying in bed and listening to tales of rock and roll lifestyles, overcoming the despair of Nirvana and moving forward into Foo Fighters. Dave Grohl would also tell it to you straight and I imagine the last thing you want when you're dying is a whole lot of bullshit.

Of course, I hope I am years and years from being on my deathbed - hopefully so much so that I out live Dave Grohl. It is for this reason I picked out Walk for this blog. It's a tad ironic to think you could learn to walk again in your last moments. However, Walk is a great song to learn from as you take on life. There is a section in the song when Grohl literally screams "I never wanna die ... I'm dancing on my grave... I never wanna leave". Time and time again we will have to restart, to pick ourselves up and walk back into the insanity that is life, and not succumb before your time. It's a theme which Grohl has used in many of his songs and if he's coming to my deathbed then I want to be able to tell him all the times I learned to walk again.

If you missed it on Facebook do mention below who you'd have on your deathbed - it is an interesting idea to consider.