The Pyrmont Bridge is about to open. Would those pedestrians on the swingspan please move back behind the gates on either side. Thank you.
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It began with a brief and seemingly insignificant event some months ago. A kiss on the cheek in greeting. One bending down, the other in the awkward position of rising from a chair. A hand reaching up and encountering neck, rather than arm or shoulder. Unintentionally intimate.
It ends, as always, with absence. With change. With a definable moment we know is coming. The train leaving. The leaves falling. The rains coming. In this case, with another kiss on the cheek and a feeling of letting go of something important and precious.
The time between. A hiatus. A space. A period of waiting defined by expectation. Yet full. A scramble for meaning, for finding out. The delicately beautiful sensation of impending loss.
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The Pyrmont Bridge is about to open. Would those pedestrians on the swingspan please move back behind the gates on either side. Thank you.
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Just wanted to say thanks. And congratulations.
Our recent conversations leave me floating somewhere between hope and despair. Hope, that anything is possible and despair that Ive lost the part of myself that used to make possibilities happen. Despair that Im not strong enough to keep going.
Whether I should tell you about this kind of feeling, I dont know. Probably not. But as I said, theres hope in it too. Just seeing you and what you have done gives me that hope. I have incredible respect for what you have done and will undoubtedly continue to do so.
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The Pyrmont Bridge is about to open. Would those pedestrians on the swingspan please move back behind the gates on either side. Thank you.
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In the novel she berates him for not making a move on the woman he desires. She encourages him to believe he will end his days plagued by a deep sense of regret. I just dont agree. I dont find desire such a singular, uncomplicated thing. Bittersweet if anything. I find regret a stupid waste of time.
Desire has the power to destroy. Sometimes Im not sure whether Im in the grip of desire or whether Ive just caught some nasty bug. Leave your desire at home. Dont take it for a walk. It is yours, not a gift. Desire is just not a very pleasant thing to foist upon someone who clearly couldnt care less or is otherwise engaged.
These thing happen, of course. Desire is a naturally occurring human state, probably linked with the physiological imperative to procreate. Im not against it. Actually, I quite like it. And maybe Im a selfish little so-and-so, but I actually really like keeping it to myself. Dwelling on it for an unnecessary and probably unhealthy length of time.
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The Pyrmont Bridge is about to open. Would those pedestrians on the swingspan please move back behind the gates on either side. Thank you.
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Its always strange seeing you. I dont see many people from that part of my life. Probably because it wasnt all that enjoyable. I dont bother so much with the past these days (not that Ive forgotten as much as Id like to think). I just dont bother with it as theres so much in the present and future to be occupied with.
Its odd to hear from others about what they remember. The webs we weave with people. Was surprised to hear you talk about how you used to speculate about me and whether I was with that guy I used to stay with sometimes. Youre so deluded. Being talked about is flattering in a way, but strange. Certainly, Im not all that popular (and wasnt back then either).
Its difficult getting to know people. Everyone is so busy, there doesnt seem to be time to take the risk of trying to form new friendships.
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Please stand clear of the gates while they open. Thank you.