Stops 30 - 33

Well, it has been a while hasn't it?

The last post was somewhat prophetic in hindsight. The good news is; fate did get back to me. I wasn't expecting him/her/it too but they did. Now this may sound like an psuedo new age thing to say but with all manner of defence I can say that it is true.

Mount Magnet really sucked. Sorry for the lack of interesting vocabulary, but 'sucked' is really the only word for it. I did not respond well to being a subservient female. *laughs* Not that I would expect to, but I did think that I could emotionally and intellectually remove myself from the role, relax and 'go with the flow'. The now apparent reality is that I am neither a 'easy-go-lucky' person, a particularly emotionally detatched one nor a female who is comfortable with being a sexual object for money. So, all in all - still a rampaging, dominant feminist. HURRAH!

So, there is a lovely lesson in itself. Kate will not be a career barmaid.

I met a few abasolutely adorable people in my stay; namely Stean, Lisa, Nellie and Stef. As you are all now my 'facebook' friends you will hopefully read this and understand you were all integral to the enjoyment that I managed to salvage from that place. Thank you all! Once free from the "Mount Maggot' chains, I stayed with a lovely man named Laurie in Geraldton and proceeded to drink copious amaounts of alcohol and try and find a sexually charged plaything for him. No luck as yet, but he is sneakily charming and will probably find her on his own. We went to a small agricultural show in Mullewa and I bought showbags and watched fireworks! Complete inner-child emersion that did wonders for my soul. Next stop Canarvon. The fruit picking capital of Western Australia. It is filled with backpackers sweating it out on farms in small shorts and drinking excessively at the local pubs that even the locals avoid. Although this does sound like a potential recipe for sexual nirvana, it was so busy that I could not even find a room in a hostel. Camping in the Caravan Park it was, then. Camping (for the record) is a new found love of mine. Waking up, unzipping your polyester dome and emerging into nature cannot be compared to any kind of conventional accomodation. Camping in Caravan Parks though, is $20 dollars a night to sleep on a patch of dirt near a toilet block. Cue babies crying and old women and their noisy thongs (the footwear you dirty bastards) snapping around in the night. Well, as much as that was a joy to be told - I left the next day.

1500kms later, Broome.

Broome is where postcards almost make themselves on every street corner. It is a beautiful little town and understandably an incredibly tourist orientated one - as backpackers, grey nomads and courting couples flock to it like free sausages and happy hour beer. Cable Beach is the place where you may have seen the photos of camels carrying joyous Japanese vistors across the beach to the sunset. I spent an entire three days lounging semi naked on it's white glorious deliciousness and working on my tan. Then, once the sun goes down - head to Town Beach and watch the optical illusion of the moon refelcting on the mud flats - a phenomenom known as the 'Staircase to the Moon'. Beautiful, huh? So why in this oasis did I have one of the most painful depressions of recent years?

Now I see that it was almost too perfect, too beautiful and relaxing. After really struggling for six weeks in Mount Magnet, distracted by the daily drama, this was a place where my incesant and aggressive inner dialogue could run free. Where all those ideas and emotions I had been unable to reflect upon bubbled up to the surface and broke free - releasing a toxic gas that billowed black smoke forth.

Before you throw the thesaurus at me, let me interject. This is where fate spoke to me.

Fate is a terrible word, for in insinuation is that fate is a dictator of all direction and that free will or personal ambition are negated. Fate is the refuge for those who cannot contemplate a more complex personal universe in which they are the masters of their own destiny, where hippies, drug addicts, victims and the down right lazy put their eggs so they do not have to work any harder? Well, in my experience, yes. For all the Idols, the tomes, the weekend spiritual retreats that I have encountered in life and especially in the last six months; most has left me with nothing more than eye-rolling and an inner flagilation process designed to halt my rampaging criticism of other's inner beliefs. I want to yell "You have taken pages 123-127 from book X, eight minutes of the lecture from Guru Z and six quotes from your fridge magnets and you call that a PHILOSOPHY!?"

*laughs*

So, am I now laying myself down to be judged in the same manner. I HAVE FOUND THE TRUTH TO THE UNIVERSE!
/
*laughs even harder*

Oh god, if I ever make such a proclomation, please; shoot me.

Fate has spoken to me in a very private way and it has nothing to do with why or how we exist, nor a tangeable set of rules in which we can live in harmony. Don't think I wouldn't like that though! No, I has simply come to a decision in my life about why I have embarked on this trip and found it has generally been a fantastic idea. I travelling confidently down a road that leads to the future. I still do not know where the 'end' is. For that matter, I do not know where I even 'am' right now. But semantics aside, it is quite difficult to precisely articulate what has been spoken to me.

For you it may sound different. Actually, I am confident that it would. For you it may say "Hey you, go make ice-cream with noodles in it." This may leave you with exactly the same feeling as I have right now. Who knows?

I still had nightmares lat night. I dreamt that everything I held dear was gone. My husband was sleeping with another woman, my house burnt down and I was famous and my secrets were being exposed to the world by the international media. I still tossed and turned in my bed until 2am, my heart still hurts with an unhealed jealousy and I am still broke and watching Harry Potter for the second time today. If this is the price I have to pay for this sense of meaning in my own life - an extremely easy trade it is.

I will always be confused, we are all confused. We are all wondering around in this world thinking 'Who the fuck am I?', 'Who the fuck are you?'.

I have no truth, no righteousness, I am human. But I have stopped and listened and it has spoken to me. Now, I have to make it real. To live it. It is not god, it is no Buddha or Allah, it is life, fate, the all encompassing wonder of the universe.

If it speaks to you and tells you to make noodle ice-cream, do it.

All my love XO

Kate

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