Sunday, August 9, 2009

it's writing time!

Just something I wrote. Criticism/comments? =)

Breathe in, breathe out.

I tilt my head towards the sun in worship, as though I was a weary pilgrim kneeling at a holy shrine. Its rays reach into the core of me, melting away the icy fear that had held my soul captive for too long, too long. The breeze softly caresses me, whispering secrets into my ear, telling impossible tales of far off lands and distant seas and dreams long forgotten.

Breathe in, breathe out.

A slow tear slides down my cheek, the small drop holding my terror, my grief, my pain, my joy. It brushes against my mouth, the salt softly stinging my bloodied lips. The pain, though insignificant, invigorates me. I can feel again.

I'm free.

Breathe in, breathe out.

I'm alive.

Friday, August 7, 2009

I just looked at a photo of a guy and thought 'wow he has a really flat chest'.


Wednesday, August 5, 2009

what do you do when even your body betrays you?

It happened today. On the drive home from school.

'I have some bad news for you girls.'

Tense up, clench fists, what's happened?

'And it's not Oma or Pup.'

Nana and Papa...?

'It's Sigi.'

My uncle. Their husband brother son father of four.

'Sigi's got a brain tumour.'

"strange little girl where are you going?"

Love is being completely whipped. :)
I officially have wireless. It is only slightly less cooler than life.

Please don't give me cancer, wireless. I love you. You can't do that to me.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

"we were both young when I first saw you"

I got tired of waiting wondering if you were ever coming round my faith in you was fading when I met you on the outskirts of town. And I said 'romeosavemei've beenfeelingsoaloneikeepwaitingforyoubutyounevercomeisthisinmyheadidon'tknowwhattothink' he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said



We were both young when I first saw you...

Monday, August 3, 2009

i knew there was a reason i loved cracked dot com

In this article, they pretty much shoot down about 50 per cent of my Mum's paranoia inducing theories.

I love them.

just taking leave of my intelligence

What scares me most it that somewhere along the lines, something will not work.

And I don't know what it is.

My life has been so charmed that something is bound to go wrong. And whatever it is, I won't be able to deal with it. Since I was a youngun I've always known that I wanna get married and make babies. But what if I get divorced? What if my husband gets cancer?

What it I'm infertile?

I sit in the bath at night, staring at my general tummy area, please work please work please work.

It always happens that the more I want something, the more likely it is to fuck up and go wrong and not work. If I can't have children, what would I do? I wouldn't want to live? Sounds about right. Unbalanced but right. God what is with me today, throwing my deep dark shit around the internet.

People would say adopt, but would it be the same? I want to look at my child and think 'my eyes, his nose, her grandmother's humour'.

I make no sense and for that I apologise.

I'll retreat into stability again tomorrow, mmk?

is it too much to ask for a little quiet?

'Do you know why you should be scared of therapists?'
'Ummm, no?'
'Because therapist equals The Rapist!'

Sister told that one to me in the car today and I actually nearly pissed myself.

I have nothing to say. Due to certain traumatic events (ie losing my psychology textbook), I have deemed myself unfit to do homework. Also, I am crying. THAT'S FIFTY BUCKS DOWN THE DRAIN. AND HOW CAN YOU LOSE THAT TEXTBOOK? IT'S LIKE THE SIZE OF FUCKING JUPITER.

Moving right along.

When your opinions differ to popular opinion it's nearly impossible to take a stand. Today, there was just this person who shitted me off so bad. I had a very nice little day dream about shouting at them in the middle of the school, shouting and screaming and saying what I really feel, but I can't. Because that would make me the bad guy. That said, I know other people feel the same way I do. But who would take the screaming person's side if the other person is running away in tears? People would look at me and whisper and say that's the bitch that made them cry.

I'm probably over reacting, I don't think enough people care all too much about the same topic.

I'll just smother myself to keep the person in question happy.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

"in my house I've got no shackles you can come and look if you want to"

I hate being a girl, do you?

I would make the worst lesbian, in that I would go out with a hot chick then hate her because she's hotter than me. I constantly weigh myself up against other girls to measure my worth, and when I see a beautiful girl I make bad judgements about her, don't worry that she's more beautiful than you, she's probably a ditz, a slut, etc, etc, etc. Does that make me sound like a bad person? Yes, and I don't like admitting it but I'm being truthful so I am. Don't judge me, I know all of you (or at least some) do it too.

All my judgements are wrong, so you think I would have learnt by now. But I haven't, and I'm starting to think that I can't. I'm the kind of person who puts a lot of value on looks. Not for other people, mostly, after that first initial snap judgement I start to find the person inside. But for myself. I can't, won't, leave the house without makeup, without spending at least fifteen minutes on my hair. I know I'm not ugly, deep down I do. In the right lighting with the right makeup and the right hair I might actually look pretty. Might. There is a small chance. If you squint.

I don't know why I'm admitting this, it makes me seem shallow at best. There's no justification for my actions, I'm just insecure, wanting people to judge me by what they see, not who I am. I'm intelligent, I'm mature (in my thoughts, not in my actions, generally), so why do I insist on beating myself up about my looks? Media? Peer pressure?

Who knows. Maybe it's because when you get right down to it, I just suck.
I wish the Biggest Loser was on. I could use a few cheap laughs.

excuse me while i do some motivational speaking

I'm just starting to realise how much I've matured as a writer in the past year or so. I was re-reading my 'Connected Text Study', and I thought it was crap. Crappy crap. I used 'essentially' twice within three sentences! Argh! And what was up with my introduction and conclusion? I mean wtf.

However, when it was marked it recieved an 18 out of 20 (or was it 17? No, I think it was 18. It was an A, nonetheless, woowoo!). That has boosted my confidence so much for this year's CTS, as I know I'm a lot better than I was, so there's no reason why I wouldn't get an A. :) Now I just gotta shut up, stop worrying, stop procrastinating, and WORK DAMMIT.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

My Sister's Keeper = awesome

Louise: be warned as this goes into the plotline of the novel lol. Therefore don't read. Read the novel.
Anyone else who may possibly read this blog (hahahahahaha): Spoiler alert! lol. Basically don't read if you haven't seen 'My Sister's Keeper'. Which you should go do. Right now. I'll wait.

My Sister's Keeper. I have nothing to say but Oh. My. Gosh.

I lied. I have plenty more to say.

It was an absolutely fantastic movie. In many respects it differed from the book, but for once that didn't diminish the quality of the film. It stayed true to the feel of the novel, so we were all still left with tears continuously running down our cheeks.

It's weird, because it was such an amazing book we were completely expecting the movie to be crap. We were bitching about it like a month before hand, I can't believe Cameron Diaz is Sara! I don't like the girl they chose to play Anna! If they make any changes to the book I'm gonna kill someone!

So I think it's pretty safe to say that we were completely shocked by the pure awesomeness of the movie.

The most obvious and dramatic change would have to be that Kate dies, instead of Anna. Instead of completely ruining the movie, it just feels right. Anna dying was right for the novel, Kate dying was right for the movie. It just would not have worked if the original ending had been kept. And it still dealt with all the issues which the novel raised, which was the most important thing.

Jesse was also much less of a delinquent in the movie, whereas in the novel he was an arsonist. In the movie, when they said that 'Jesse turned his life around', it really doesn't make all too much sense, as his delinquent behaviour was fairly minimal at best. Did anyone else feel that?

I think Taylor also had a more prominent role in the movie. And I don't think Kate's suicidal/emo urges were in the novel; or am I mistaken? But that was all so sweet, painful, but sweet.

And Cameron Diaz was briliant! I originally thought they should have chosen a less famous actress for the role, as sometimes you can look at a character and think, that's Cameron Diaz, instead of, that's Sara, you know? But she was really really really good.

I pretty much cried the whole way through. I just found out that the director was also the director for the Notebook, which probably explains why it's the only movie that can make me cry more than the Notebook.

I cannot think of a movie I enjoyed more, not even the Notebook or Moulin Rouge. :O

Sorry about all that, I just had to get it off my chest. :)

Friday, July 31, 2009

"strangers on this road we are on but we are not two we are one"


10 days... :)

I cannot believe it's nearly been half a year, more if you include the time we were 'unofficial'. This has all gone so unbelievably fast. It's actually kind of scary. It really does not feel like all that long ago but I guess it was. I love you, did you know?

"sweet dreams are made of this"

I had possibly the most fantastic dream last night.

He was trying to make friends with this group of guys. However, they were enormous dick heads and were really really mean to him, except he didn't notice and kept trying to be their friend.



It was great, I like punched them and kicked them in the balls and threw books at them. And then they bled. And cried.

And, I don't know, it was just delightfully fun.

I also had a dream where I was in Port Lincoln and I did a strip tease for some obese kid who lived next door. I dunno. Awkward.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

i have new things!

It occured to me last night that people might actually read this pile of crap. How embarassing.

Anyway, I have news, which certainly won't excite anyone but me. My family bought a new computer! And we ordered wireless! Yes, I know, my mum finally got over her fear of wireless-induced cancer. And now I can go on the laptop it my room! Away from people eating apples! This fills my heart with glee.

The new computer is soooo cute. It's sitting next to me. /pokes. It's shiny and small and black and adorabubble. Mum says that next year I can get one for my room. =D I'd probably just sit there looking at it coz, ya know, that's just how I roll.

@Leish: I sincerely hope that you don't mind but I'm probably going to be stealing some of your movies. Glitta this goes for you too. Just thought I'd let you know, I can't really be bothered asking face to face because you're both at school. But yeah, coz the computer has a dvd burner so I can burn dvds now! =D

Umm.. yeah. That's all I've got. Apologies for the excessively boring blog.
I hate teachers that are all like YOU MUST DO THINGS THIS EXACT WAY OR FAIL THE COURSE.





excuse me while i rant

Bloody hell, I fucking hate apples. I like apple juice but apples are like the spawn of Satan. I especially hate it when other people eat apples. crunchcrunchslurpiamincapableofeatingwithmymouthshutbecauseiamretarded.

Yes, sister, I am talking to you. You irritate me highly with your constant apple eating. You sit there and kick your desk and spin around and slurp (WHO FUCKING SLURPS APPLES?!) and crunch whilst I am trying my fucking hardest to procrasinate study. You get the juice all over your fingers and subsequently over the keyboard, so I cannot even use that computer without vomiting in my mouth because the keyboard is so defiled. I touched it once and it was sticky. STICKY. I had to run my hands under hot water for two minutes just to make my traumatised fingers feel clean again. They were violated and its all your fault, sister.

And it's not only apples you eat at that computer, oh no, the list includes curry and iced coffee and well, let's be honest, nearly everything you consume if consumed in front of that screen. And you eat with your fingers, WITH YOUR FINGERS. This shocks me for two reasons, firstly that you haven't, at aged twelve, mastered the art of cutlery. Second, you lick those fingers and touch the keyboard, then lick them again. THAT'S LIKE LICKING A PUBLIC TOILET SEAT. Scratch that, it's like licking the inside of a public toilet bowl which hasn't been flushed in a week.

You do all this and wonder why I shudder at the thought of you using my laptop. My fears are grounded, fool, you get bread crumbs in the keys and peel off those stickers leaving sticky marks and BREAK MY RIGHT ARROW KEY. YOU BROKE IT. YOU FUCKING BROKE IT. But no one listens to me when I beg and plead for you not to be allowed on my laptop, oh no, no one even listens to me when I petition for you to not be allowed to eat in the computer room. I come in here and see you eating something with your fingers, don't eat in front of the computer!

I'm not touching anything.

Yeah like shit you aren't, which is why the keyboard and mouse are covered in juice and crumbs.



Wednesday, July 29, 2009

"to be a pokemon master is my destinyyyyyy"

Dear Madonna,

I do not like you. You are fifty. Put some clothes on.

Rawwwr, fear me for I am Madonna

I am also having issues with your arms. I dislike them as much as I dislike you. Because of your ungodly arms, I have come to the conclusion that you are not actually human.

I also highly dislike your singing, and when your music videos are on my tv I throw up a little in my mouth before changing the channel even if there's nothing else good on because quite frankly, I would rather watch Divorce Court than listen to you.

You represent all that is evil in this world; however, I will reconsider my opinion if you decide to wear pants in your next concert.

Please do not bother me any longer.


PS. Only fifteen more years until you're a pensioner!