17:55.

Five minutes ago, I ate an Oreo.

It's one of those half peanut butter, half choc cream ones.

The first time I ate one of those - always with the peanut butter side first - I was in Bouverie Close, nicking one off Vonnie's pack. With permission, of course.

Two hours ago, I was looking through Hannah's online photo album of her 23rd birthday (bwahaha, same age! Oops.)

It looks like fun, and like I told her and Germie before, I wished I am there. Smiley faces, happy faces, familiar background - that grey couch, those white kitchen cabinets, the walls that look beige under florescent lights, it's always very cool when people are happy.

I browsed through the rest of the albums. Saw my face in some of them. From Hannah's birthday celebration last year, from Easter camp last year.

Last year.

Last year, I was there.

Last year, I shared that same space, had some of the same friends, felt the same simple happiness I saw reflected in pictured faces.

I sat on that couch, I sat at that Ikea dining table, and just out of sight of that photo I stared at, was a wooden stool I parked myself at probably every single day before.

With dear friends and people, I created memories in that house.

And that red drumset? Something was strengthened in me when I took on the challenge of drumming for Parkville. Something forgotten was revived in the this-is-so-scary-i'm-so-stressed-about-drumming-these-songs walk-on type journeys.

How fast a year bring us.

Last year in this month, I first drummed for Ray at Parkville. Cringeworthy performance from yours truly. Song set at repeated mode for dozens of times in prep. Only time I burst into tears over the phone with Mom, I was that disturbed.

About five-and-a-half hours ago, I bought Bright Eyes' latest album. I first heard about the group from a cg mate, and first downloaded their songs with trusty lappie through Ares while sat at that dining table.

Oh the memories.

94 days and counting since I left Melbourne.

No, really, I am not obsessively keeping count of the days. Maybe one day I can tell you why I have my finger on the number but be assured I am not psychotically consulting a calendar every day.

We are hitting three-digit soon.

I've been having dreams of people. Just groups of people who were once physically in my life. My wireless connection at home has not been working for close to two weeks now so I am only online at work now.

A friend who returned in Dec has filed her offshore PR application. At her urging, I have called three migration agents, checked out all possible ways to get back, and mobilised my parents to double check whether we have relatives in Aust.

That last turned out empty since those we do know are not blood related.

The options I have left to exercise require me to pray lots and know exactly what I want and what I am willing to pay for it.

At the end of the day, I'm living in a living lesson. I think it's some epic... but I'm rambling.

I understand a very small measure of Paul's words.

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." - 2 Corinthians 4: 8- 9

A lot of things are being stripped bare. And the process grates against my heart and mind.

The fruits of the lesson are many and great. I can glimpse their glory and potential but for now, I am in the waiting.

And I want to worship Him.