Walking the streets

Was that...was that a jaberwokie? This I thought to myself when for the first time in years I was scared walking the streets of brunswick.
I must let you know that as of recently I had to cut off a very important relationship and left me with the daunting task of readjusting my life around it. This didn't help by arranging a catch up with another friend to make nachos in the same area as so many memories where associated. I went to the old supermarket, walked my old walking path and wasn't till I was apon the strange orange house that I realised how stupidly and foolishly I'd trapped myself. Which was a sign of progress.
But walking the streets on this cold night I gotta admit I felt a distinct emptiness. And I kept hearing these creepy noises. I was wearing my St. Kilda footy socks that I bought for the bright stripes pulled up to my knees to keep my legs warm and some jerkwad actually thought I was a saints supporter. That was scary too.
But seriously I walked past pub corners where I'd sat with friends now that had moved overseas and scattered. except I realised I'd just seen them all recently.
Losing someone like this a year ago, two years ago my skin would crawl.
I had preordained I was destined for some tragedy, freud would probably blame my mother, but my aspirations of what and who I wanted to be where terrifying and I got terrified of growing up, moving on and becoming me.
Whereas now when I beat the same old pavement even though that emptiness is there, it's more like a blank canvas, to paint a rollercoaster on that anyone and I mean anyone can hop on.
I want to be me. Potential Tom. The harder I push to get there, the more potential I tend to have.
But seriously have you read Alice through the looking glass recently, the jaberwokie is one scary beast.