more internalising

---

(Day 8)
I awoke in a pitiful self-loathsome state, regretful for all the shit I’ve been putting Luke through the past several days. To which he replies that I am handling it all really well and he’s surprised at just how well I am doing. Of course, I find this difficult to accept as my self-loathing berates my princess for not being tougher and ‘just dealing with it as it is’.
What began as a wee joke about the mozzies has turned into a nightmare. We are in monsoon land after all… I would have rapidly lost my mind were it not for J’s friend’s place down the road which albeit extremely basic with no working running water (resident is in Bali and gravity feed pump is turned off and hiding), is at least mozzie proofed. Last night in the van was a white man’s purgatory. Stuffy and sticky and barely a wink of sleep with the sneaky little bloodsuckers having clung to our legs on the way in from a midnight pee. (We’d spent a good 15 mins before sleep workshopping the ‘saviour’ of any stowaways) My philosophy is: outside is their space - free range feasting is their prerogative (why bother slapping them when there’s millions more all around), but anywhere within closed sleeping quarters is MY space and open slather - here, my desire for sanity predominates my love for wildlife and moral heart on preservation of all beings.

Later in the day, I’ve decided it’s official - I am very nearly going mad. Between fasting and bowel cleansing, the biting bugs and persistent monsoon mugginess, the isolation and lack of familiarity, the accidental dropping of my keeper cup into the porcelain bowl of my mass mucoid and faecal plaque evacuation…. You could perhaps understand my current emotional imbalance…

On the up-side with the juice fast, I’ve discovered how awesome apples and lemons are together - ooh yeaaah! Something to look forward to, and makes the clay and psyllium far more palatable.

Trust, all is as it should be; the universe is unfolding as it should. *smiling with that security*

Having missed our Mossman Gorge bathing session this afternoon (spent a few hours in Port Douglas investigating the tidy tourist town, Durian and bargain organics for juicing from Coles), we return ‘home’ to the base of our mountain through the thoroughly pelting rain, all sticky and smelly, true to tropical land. We unload the day’s loot and Luke excitedly suggests a scrubadubdub shower in the rain, reminiscent of Ishi’s spontaneous Brissy bath I thought, and he is off - out into the blackness, in his essential whiteness 

This fast… feeling like I’m regressing back into my childhood… I’m a small girl again, throwing tantrums when things don’t go my way - whichever that is - as if I haven’t yet acquired the skills or awareness of independence… yet, at the same time, I am aware… of my yearning to be looked after, feeling no support for myself, my laziness, my Oedipus complex…

There’s something about Port Douglas… sure it’s a tourist town, a higher tourist population than permanent resident actually, The possibilities of living in Mossman, Port Douglas (which I liked right from the beginning), are opening… we very well may find ourselves here for the Adelaide winter.


Sitting in the rain, about quarter past nine, drinking my juice, feeling pretty fine!
Not really impressed with this peeing out my bottom business though…

The cacophony of mating cane toads is overwhelmingly, deafeningly alternating throughout the hours of the night with the smashing of the hard and heavy rains on the shed roof we lay under. Unable to hear myself think (quite astounding for me) - the miracle measure to escape one’s thoughts! The hours of one to the other go on… till I eventually fall to slumber, rudely interrupted with yet another urgency to sickeningly evacuate *sigh* Assuming the position, the haunting hoards of toads outside have me suddenly and unsympathetically get just how exponential their breeding is and therefore the motivation behind intentional mass culling. Anything that eats them dies you know?

Day 9
Mildew smell periodically taking me back to Sri Lanka and my stays in cheap old guesthouses of South India in monsoon season - funny how powerful smells can be.

---