Sometimes You Need To Ride A Bus Not A Pony

I left home at 10am on a Monday morning. Not to a desk chair. Not to an office. To the airport. With two bags, one guitar and second hand boots. It was hot in Fiji but I needed to wear all my wool because it wouldn’t fit in my luggage.

I looked a bit stupid. But that’s okay. Sometimes you need to look a bit silly. So I left Home on a Monday morning and got Home later that night. To the other Home. The one with flat screens and fluffy doonas. The one with jeans and lipstick.

Now it is 10am on a Monday morning again. Bondi is quiet. Friends are at work. I can see the water from the window. But I can’t go for a swim. Its Antarctica out there.

I saw coconuts for sale. But I didn’t buy one. It would have sent me broke.

I saw a horse yesterday. But I couldn’t jump on it’s back. It was part of a promotion.

But again. I guess that’s okay too. Sometimes you need to ride a bus not a pony.

I don’t mind public transport. Or watching the ocean. Or choosing an apple instead.

I don’t mind it for awhile. After all, I am a little bit this girl as well. Just as much as I belong up a creek with star fruit in my pockets.

People keep asking. “So What are you Going to do Now Matisse?”

I think they expect an answer like:

– Apply for a job at the ABC

– Go and get a PhD

– Move to postcode 2023

– Sing a bit of Doh Ray Me

– Busk my way to Alice Springs

I’m not sure what they would like to hear. But that’s okay as well. Everything is okay. Because I have a secret. Summer is coming. And not just in the sky.

You’ll see.


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