I have this weird theory that borrows a little from the whole concept of parallel universes and probably has much to do with being brought up by a mother who used to sing to biscuits in the oven, encouraging them to cook. But matriarchal (and possibly hereditary) madness aside, my theory goes a little like this:
Ever been in a situation that could have been deadly if just one thing
had been different? Ever crossed the road just before a car crashed into the pole where you were standing? Ever made a choice that turned out to be life-saving?
I've done this; several times. And every time it happens, I feel hollow and washed-out, as though I'm only half there. This is where my theory comes in, possibly involving parallel universes.
So, there's this idea that, for every action you make, there are dozens of others you could have chosen and in some place
(I have no idea where), you did
make that choice and the world is a different place. So, instead of picking that lemon on the lower branch, I could have chosen the riper one on a slightly higher branch and because of that, peace was spontaneously declared in a war-torn African nation.
Nevertheless, my theory is that sometimes, instead of there being a dozen alternate possibilities, sometimes there are only two. You either die horrifically in a car accident, or you don't. And my explanation for that empty, washed-out feeling is that half of your body still believes you did
die and has to be talked into reason by the other half.
It's a bizarre theory, but I'll stick by it until someone can disprove it categorically.
My reason for sharing this theory is that, last night, I almost choked to death on a small piece of tuna. Seriously. I suppose it was its revenge for being eaten. But there I was, innocently chewing away on said piece of tuna when it decided to take a detour. Thankfully, after wheezing and choking about for a bit, I managed to cough the cursed thing out and I went on my merry way, munching the rest of my dinner with incredible malice.
And my theory held - for the rest of the night, I felt as though I was only half there. Either I died choking on a piece of tuna, or I didn't.
In other news, my internet addiction continues unabated as I acquire myself a flickr account. After acquiring said account, I ran into the limitations of a free account and took all of five minutes to decide to upgrade. Well, I have a lovely new camera - I need a pretty place in which to show my pictures off. Don't I? At any rate, I have now uploaded pictures from my recent trip to Beechworth, none of which were obscured in any way by annoying people. I'm almost disappointed by this fact. My favourite picture from the trip would probably be this one of a silvereye, which was spotted whilst having morning tea on the back verandah. That is, we
were having the morning tea, not the silvereye.
The following is a picture of contrasts - modern Southern Cross Station and the classic lines of the Savoy Hotel across the road. I cropped out the yellow safety barriers and the workers in fluorescent vests, because that would only imply that both the budget and timeline of completition for the station were being stretched beyond their limits, wouldn't it?
Here, you will see my parents' cat, Buffy, with the dirty look for which she is famous within my family.
For more photographs with comments, please follow this link
If anyone else has a flickr account, please let me know and I'll friend you.