Of all days, it's Friday 13th

I've returned alive from 2005. Premonition noted and struck, as I told my dearest friends that I would not return. It would be a frightening death to me in Sydney. But alas, no such despair.

Now my attention is diverted to arranging my 21st Birthday Party, which disgustingly, one very good friend has already told me of his absence. Hateful. Please do not let my 21st be plagued with declines.

As the same for Genevieve, my memories of Sydney are cascading around me at the moment, so re-telling of stories will have to be presented in dribs and drabs. And with the heinous deliberations of planning the birthday festival season, I can't possibly think of anything more taxing than sorting through camera-phone photos and reliving gory details of my time away. In time, they will come.

Sydney rocks. Really going out and partying for once in my life and doing the things I wanted to do are all the more liberating for a boy turning 21. It was a good break from work, where two days before my departure to Sydney, I found myself crouching behind the desk, shying away from the public, sitting in the fetal position rocking back and forth, in tears. Bless.

Hopefully the sun shining on my computer as I type this entry is a sign that things are looking a lot better and brighter for 2006. But everyone says that at the start of every year, and at the end of the year, everyone wants the next year to be better.

Let go and let God.

OnAir with BlackPunk : Mariah Carey - Without You