Prior Series: Five Hours Before (this post)!

I bunked Uni today. I've doing that a lot these days, mostly because of assignments and my failure to get them done well before their due date. {Should I type 'their' or some other crazy grammar?} Why today's 'bunking' or 'jigging' or 'wagging' {<--Aussie-slangs} is worth typing up so that my supportive (!) readers are able to read it, is because, it was a different kind of 'bunking' or 'jigging' or 'wagging'. {I should stop using long sentences.}

I had to drop off an assignment before 10 am at Upper Campus, which literally murdered my legs and my energy because of the stupid no-good-uni's geographical layout. {More on this some other day.} After coming back down to the Lower Campus, I decided to attend last half hour of 9 am maths lecture. Having done that, I decided to attend my 10 am tutorial because they mark the roll and I was absent in the last tute. At exactly 11 am, I couldn't take it anymore. I was falling asleep in maths tute and feeling low and depressed {to be covered later}. I met Matt on the way, who asked what I had then, to which I said that I was going home. He looked surprised because we still had another five hours of classes left.

I headed for the bus stop opposite my-house-taking-bus-stop. I have a place. It's been my place ever since I thought of having a place. It's my get-away place. It's my thinking place. It's my most-memory-contained place. It's where I've taken my friends [they don't know that it's my place though]. It's where you get the best view of the harbour, the opera house, the harbour bridge, the botanical garden, the ships, the waves...

This time however, I walked past my place because a whole bunch of police-people were there and I needed peace. Then I thought why not just hang out at the botanical garden. It's H-U-G-E. After living here for seven/eight years, I still haven't seen most parts of this garden. {Then again, what else is there to see other than trees, plants, fountain-y-thingy-s, more trees, flowers, grass, trees..} The view is awsome though. The harbour surrounds the outer rim of the whole garden, a bit like a peninsula. Before entering the gate I bought a bottle of mineral water {which tastes like crap} from a little drink-station under umbrellas. I must have looked real shit because the guy kept looking at me {and he was Indi/Bangali}. The stupid drink cost me $3, which is a lot for a bottle of water. {Only because the store was right infront of the Opera House}. I realised this guy probably had the best job. All he did was just sit there. The tourists didn't seem to want any drinks and given the over-price of things, I didn't think anyone would. {Then again, I did..}

So I set off with my bag on one shoulder, a shawl in one hand and the mineral water in the other (hand). The sun was up, it wasn't so windy and definitely warmer than it was in the morning. I started walking. It seemed as if I was the only one because everyone around me were either running, jogging, walking or in between. I would pass a certain point and glance at the harbour and realise that I should become a hobby-photographer. I diverted my thoughts to find particular things I'd photograph, the angle I'd photograph them from, the lighting I'd use, whether I'd use those couples on that bench along with rest of the settings...you get the idea. I fell in love with this green-sea-weed-algae-thing that float in clumps at the edge of the stone railings where harbour waves crash and burn {well..not burn but that's a saying I picked up from the simpsons}.

At one point I stopped to see those green algaes and had to talk to a Greek guy. He was really old, and recently stuffed his back in an accident, hence he comes here to walk/exercise. He was telling me about European and Asian students who pay high fees to study in Australia and how this is a secret business of the Government {which mind you is not a secret anymore}. Our short encounter came to an end and I had to go on. So I bid {what's the past tense for this?} farewell.

I walked on. When I saw this old-but-built guy running in the opposite direction, I swear I felt like Mr. Forrest Gump. I realised that everything I dream to be/do, which I can't ever do, I imagine. I want to leave home like Buddha, which will never happen as my family has me in a stronghold and I need more than a job overseas to break through this-- So I have to resort to thinking that I am Buddha running around places. {or bunk uni and go off alone to think some stuff through}.

Anyway, I really should finish this boring bunking story. Just some quick highlights. I found a nice grassy spot under the sun and slept for a bit. I walked back to the front entrance, while doing so I came across this cutest 4 year old kid with glasses, who wanted fish, chips and mayonaise for lunch. I asked this guy at the front entrance (who works under an umbrella taking money for train-tours) the time. When I was walking in front of the Harbour station, I bought a satire-political-australian-magazine for $4 called 'The Big Issue'. The fantastic thing about this magazine is that it's only ever sold by the homeless- those who cannot find jobs to make ends meet. The guy I bought it off was so cheerful. He asked me if I thought it was really sunny to be out walking around. I grabbed a Chicken Burger to eat which was the same price as the water I had earlier. I stupidly asked the bus driver if I was punching my ticket in the right amount. Slept some more on the bus. And here shall end my boring recount-of-my-days.