I slept on your shoulder from Central to Penrith today. I don't even remember blacking out. I must have really needed it. Whether 'it' indicates sleep, or you, I'm not even sure. Even though I wrote the sentence. I'll leave it open to interpretation. A post modernist approach. I believe they've dubbed it the 'death of the author'. You can do what you want with my words, that I painstakingly write, and criticise that in which I did not intend. Perhaps it's for the best.

Things that I have not intended have made me happier. I did not intend meeting Mia. I did not intend on joining Mike White's group. I didn't intend befriending Bec and you were the greatest unintended event I have ever stumbled into. I think. It's hard to know yet. All I do know is you make me happy. Your shoulder is comfortable. And I am content.