Monday, 26 October 2009


i have four different drafts saved in my little blog box, but, truth is, i don't really feel like blogging. i'm all blogged out. finally. hahahahah, it'll start again when i'm not all weird inside. this place is a spot for airing my worries, memories, dreams, ideas and annoyances. i've got all this snow between my ears, like that cracky noise you get on a tv withotu reception - it's blocking out my thought process and literary creativity. i don't like it much. it's a calling of other things, and of my conscience finally breaking through with the nagging of 'do your work you procrastinating arse, you'll bomb out if you don't!'

ah well.
oh.... a little black dog just appeared, demanding to know why Rani gets a sleep on my bed and he doesn't. the simple reason: she warms up more of my quilt than he does....... i woke up sometime before the world is awake the other night to find a black furry hairball snoozing by my head. after thinking it was a person, i realised that no human is that small and covered in coarse black hair - must be Gus. of course, he did his best to push me off, but my shoulder is stronger than his pushing attempts and he fell off instead.

Olivia: 1
Gus: 0

in other news, this weather is fantastic. it's making study a whole lot harder, as is the distraction of boys..... speaking of which, i've decided, as much as i hate it with a passion, that my current dilemma is best settled with patience for about a week. i hate being patient, but this is a lesson i must learn, even thoguh it does take self dicipline ..... which i don't have....
eh. summer's coming, and with it comes a boy, i don't know who tho. i've jsut decided it will, cause summer romances, as cliched as they are, sound like fun :D don't you think?

it's an ache, an absence
but is it right to remain open to that which dissolves this ache?
or is it better to ignore it and wait for something else?

i don't like waiting because it makes my mind overthink everything. but, as it is, i still get butterflies from those eyes, and a sense of security from a t-shirt. (don't ask why).
so i sit here, listening to my iPod, which is currently cranking Damn Regret by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. <3 this song muchly.

so i shall post this even thoguh it's hardly finished and rather incoherent. i have an art essay to complete and i will feel much better after i do that. and then i will write again in a more poetic fashion, because those butterflies make me so excited about the world that it's gonna explode some time or another. may as well be constructive.


(for the record, the abbreviation as the title stands for 'can't be fucked due to too much home work')

Wednesday, 21 October 2009

just to get all nostalgic on you (amongst other things)

It's that time of year when everyone takes a step back, just a little, and thinks, 'wow, look at what I've done, look at what's happened this year, and now I think about it, where the HELL has the year gone?!'
Well, I'm thinking this right now, as I prepare my clothes, towels and other things for tomorrow at school, and the antics that are going to happen.
though, it isn't the only thing on my mind: ever the game player, i've found a new challenge, and the strategy for this one is difficult, much moreso than the previous one. but, we'll see - i might win this one rather than bomb out like last time.
so, i'm excited about that one, because it's a bit of fun.
i'm thrilled about the notion of valedictory and such on friday, but we'll see if them tears don't show up - i bet you they will, and ruin all photos in the process....
eh, it's gonna be amazing. i'm going to take so many photos tomorrow of as many people as i can find - good times tomorrow :) will report on what ACTUALLY happens tomorrow night so you are all better informed rather than the hush hush of now. :)

ciao xo

Monday, 19 October 2009

It's everything we hold dear.

It's everything we hold dear.
I, as a patriotic Aussie kiddy, raise my hackles at any form of put-down or criticism of our history or values etc.
But then, upon considering Bill Bryson's observation of Ned Kelly, I realised ... He's right.
We were taught from an early age that Kelly was both a hero and a villain, but there was a tad more emphasis placed on the hero part. I mean, they made a movie (aptly called 'ned kelly') a few years ago, with Heath Ledger (rip) as our main protagonist. And what a splendid story it is, when played in the right light - the underdog sticking it to the Man.

This last phrase is why he's considered a heroby millions, while the foreigners sit there scratching their heads wondering the reason behind such a strange option of person to idolise. He was a thief, and a murderer. But he stuck it to the man, and that's why we love the story.

We're built on being the underdog, and coming out on top. We're lovers of the success story (Step-Up, Freedom Writers, anyone?) and we love the movie renditions of said successes.

Australians are as a whole apathetic and racist. I say as a whole because I know many people that are neither of these, but there is a large number of people that are. Our policies are this way, also. Sometimes the solution seems to simple, but we just can't be bothered disturbing the surface lest the ripples turn into waves and a tsunami.
We talk of a great sunburnt country (or is it sunburned? in summer i think we should spell it like that) and we are the people that live in a 'multicultura' society, so long as you confom to our version of things. remember the 'white australia' policies of previous decades?

i'm ranting now, but i just thought that i would write that down before i forget it. and, on this same note, is this statement

ever seen the shadow of the clouds move across a hillside? if not, you should, it's truly amazing at putting things into perspective.


Sunday, 18 October 2009

What happened? I grew up.

I promised myself that I would read my archives, all of them, after I found out it was Jim that was 'yes'-ing all my posts. Such a sweet boy. And what he said had some relevance, particularly noting how I've changed over the course of the last 2 years.
This was why I began this in the first place- to document my growth as a teenager, and as a person.
Some people hand-write diaries, others take photos, and then these are shown to our kids, if we have them, to let them in on how our lives were like when we were their age.
Another part of me, the part that is fuelled from recognition (a typical first-born trait, I hear) is to have my thoughts out there for the world to see, if they can find this little URL. And, from this discovery, that my thoughts may be of some help to someone, somewhere.

Another note on change that I noticed about half an hour ago when my mother was kind enough to spring me on my laptop at 8.45 in the morning, by opening my door without knocking. Again. What surprised me was that there was no disapproving stare, no comments about it, like there was a few months ago, the only thing she said was 'good morning' and asked if I wanted her to make me a bacon and egg sandwich, and a cuppa.
I love getting brekkie in bed, moreso today because I'm so sore from softball yesterday. I guess its action, reaction - run hard, throw hard, play hard, and you're gonna have complaining muscles in the morning!
But that's not the point. This change, although slow - very slow, has happened, and is happening even now. It's hard to come to terms with losing a child, only to have it replaced with a young adult who basically doesn't need you to care for them anymore. I'm sure that if I went away, like I shall on Schoolies, I could be totally self-sufficient..... even including the washing machine.

..........When I was in year 9 (i think. it might have been yr8), I was at a friends place, riding his bike down their, very long, unsealed, driveway. he's much taller than me and as such I couldn't touch the ground. The chain came off and i landed, at speed, on the gravel and dirt wearing nothing more than short boardies and a little tankini top. It was horrible, I had scrapes all across my chest and arms and legs. I just thought, 'ouch, that stings' and limped back up to the others with the bike, then into our parents, patiently asking if I could have a few bandaids. I still have the scars on the inside of my right arm from it.... and this may be where the mysterious vertical scar on my stomach came from..... hmmmmm....... anyway, dad said to me on the way home 'you surprised me, Olivia' and I said, 'why is that, dad' and he replied, 'because if you'd done that six months ago, you'd have come in screaming and crying'.
It hadn't even occurred to me to cry.

There you go, another somewhat pointless story from my rather short biography. The point of this was just to back up what I'm realising as I read through April this year - I'm growing up, and amazingly, as old doors close and new ones open, I'm getting the opportunity to try out things for myself that I don't do now, partly because of conventions from the past - more outgoing, or friendly if I can be, and it's not too intimidating, and changing my mindsets- a year ago I thought that two years older than myself was much too old to be dating someone, or would have too different a lifestyle to be friends. That's nonsense, I see that now. I mean, I have Brian, my best bud, who's turning 21 in about a month, and friends that have left school one, two, three, four years ago, or still have that long to go.

Things are different now, and they won't be this way ever again. The sun is shining outside and despite the promising weather forecast for today, my feet are beginning to get cold, a pretty good indication that I should get out of bed and start etching onto the 30 or so glass leaves I brought home with me on Friday to get some more of my art done. As it is, its 10.15 am and I don't have noise pollution laws to contend with anymore (since it only applies until 9.30 I think).

Hope today is as good as it promises - I really don't think I can hack another let down like yesterday.

Saturday, 17 October 2009

melancholic and just wanting to sink into the earth.

i hate being right.

okay, sometimes i love it, but .... for the most part, it means that things havent gone the way the dreamer in me had hoped.

today is no different. i always knew it would pan out like this - life's too hard in some regards, but still, serves me right for having an overactive imagination and being too trusting when i shouldnt be. and now there's a sticker on my laptop, grinning at me with three very similar sets of eyes, and one pair very different, sticking it in my face, taunting me slightly.
all i can say is thank goodness i had to sprint back into the back room at work and look like i hadnt just been bludging work, by focussing very hard on sweeping, so i had time to let everything sink in.
that's a fault of mine- i often have a very long reaction time. it took me almost three years to process the enormity of mum getting sick when i was 12, and the potential consequences it held. i swallow defeat until noone can see me, and then it sits there, among the clothes and papers on my desk for a while, glaring at me angrily.
my way of dealing with failure: i don't. i ignore it, swallow it, avoid it, until it gets so overbearing i can't sleep.
like now.
i'm exhausted from today- its been stressful and fun sprinting around the softball pitch at Norwood Morialta with almost everyone getting lost, and then working, as usual, on my closing shift and the subsequent sensation of shin splints. but i click online into myspace, and there it is, a little reminder that i'm the only one feeling a little out of sorts, and noone gives a flying fuck. eh. should have expected this, right from that start.
i forgot about gravity, for a moment. sometimes one needs a rather sharp poke in the ribs to remember. in this case, its this strange emptiness of space, like someone just deflated one of those massive balloons inside my chest, and now i don't know what to put there instead.


i believe with every ounce of my being that i'm a lucky charm - things just... happen...
now, i don't know if this is because of the (for the most part) unerring optimism i hold about life, or if i actually have amazing super powers (personally i would hope its the second one cause that's definitely way cooler).
almost to the point where i think a shamrock tattoo is rather appropriate, i mean, i already wear my grandmothers silver shamrock pendant on a chain around my neck, and it brings me good things. i was wearing it when i got a home run today in softball, and when i met my most recent friend, and i'll be wearing it at graduation, and schoolies, because it brings me luck like that.
and now i'm hoping that if i wear it, and do my usual optimism, things will turn around to how i think they should be. granted, this may not be the intended actions that destiny has for me, but i can, and will, still dream as a dreamer does, with one hand in the lolly jar, one foot on the ground and her head in the clouds.

Friday, 16 October 2009

The Bus

she watches the splashes of green fly by the window and turn into the grey of concrete barriers. the rumble of the motor engine is deep, and loud, though she thinks herself clever, for having sat in one of the quietest areas, the only one quieter, she thinks, is the driver's seat, right at the front. it's a woman this time, and a relatively young one at that, which is unusual to her, but she notes it, and her eyes pass over the people sitting in front of her, then back to the window.
it;s gloomy outside, but it's as though someone upstairs smiled, and there's a sudden separation of precipitation, and the sun beats through the window on the other side, warming her face.
she smiles - the sun feels nice amongst the dreary backdrop. though, it is this monotonous view that allows her to become so lost in thought, as she is now, which is rather important, because there is indeed a lot of thinking to do: there is a whole life ahead of her to rethink.
she runs her fingertips over her stomach absent-mindedly, smiling at the sun and the memories it brings forth.
the memory off running her fingers over smooth skin covering strong muscles, and the warmth of the sun on her skin, laying on a picnic blanket in the middle of a park, with him laying beside her, with no words necessary - they knew what existed, and it didn't require words to quantify it. she blinks, and another feeling washes over her - another moment comes to mind - a warm, comfortable scene, filled with organised insanity, the hubbub of a family interacting. a television is playing in the background, and a peal of laughter splits the noise. she grins and looks up from the lounge, to the kitchen, where an older woman is holding a spoon, waving it at the kids tearing around the table. she laughed as He came out of his bedroom, caught the smallest child and swung her over his shoulder with a roar, setting her down outside, where the elder child raced after her, shrieking as the dog joined in.
She remembers moaning a response to the woman and sinking further into the lounge, then jumping up to cut celery for a salad.
few times had she felt so contented, and it was this reason why such an ordinary memory of family life, albeit not her family, sat so close to her heart.
and now she was a part of that family, so relaxed, all previous feelings of misplacement torn to shreds with the first 'hello'. her second home....
She is jolted out of her memory by a car that swerved in front of the bus a little too close for the driver's comfort, and realises she is smiling.
She hugs herself a little closer, and her thoughts drift to the future again: an empty house, that should feel stark and unfriendly, that she feels a sense of unfamiliar ownership for; a hand holding hers, that moves to her abdomen in time with a laugh; the sense of endless summer, and grins.
but this darkens as the recollection of what is supposed to happen: years of freedom, and learning, and late nights with loud music. and further darkened still with the present reality, without his hand. She dismisses these thoughts- she knows him well enough to remember that they have a lifetime, not a moment.
she never thought this would be the way her life would pan out, or will. She is content though - because even as the bus pulls a stop closer to her own, she knows that her future is uncertain, and wildly accelerated. Sometimes the biggest surprises are a blessing in disguise.
Her body doesn't show it yet, but underneath her jumper is a life changing force, getting slightly bigger every day. Some day in six months, right as the leaves begin to change, she'll be bringing home someone else, someone new to her and to him, but, at the same time, irrepressably connected, from the very first day they found out, to the day she was released from hospital, a tiny figure strapped into his little basket.
and though it is hard on everyone, to see their mistakes relived, or their worst nightmare evolved from a nineteen year old daughter, not yet through second year, and not to complete it for another eighteen.
She presses the button, almost there now. She knows it will be hard on them, and on her, but, even despite the alternative, she thinks she wouldn't give it up for the world. She knows they'll see eventually why she ignores their pleas of cancellation.
The bus pulls into the stop shakily, and she rises from her seat, smiling at him from across the aisle. He slides his hand into hers as they reenter the world outside the bus, where the air is cold, and a drizzle of rain settles onto their clothes, trying to dampen her mood. But it cant, and it won't, and neither will anything else.
This is her life to lead now, whatever happens, him and her, and it, together regardless of stigma and disapproval and disowning. She's happy, even through the rain.

we've hit the 82K barrier

well, after 246 posts, i have finally let curiosity win me over courtesy of daniel, and as of the last post, five or take about 100 words, i have written....

you ready?

.... 82299 words. it's over 82 300 now.

and yes, we counted. (word count on Word - my mind cant count that high on its own.)

i'm rather proud of that - its 178 pages of arial size 11 font.
lame, i know, but eh.
thats just so i don't forget, and then have to do through all that again... one time was painful enough

**that's what she said**



Thursday, 15 October 2009


it's so close i can almost touch it,
but it's perpetually out of reach.
as i go to grasp it, it moves just a little further away.
i guess this is learning patience the hard way.
but it feels like i've been tied up and left alone to see if i can release myself. problem is, this time i can't reach the knots and no matter where or how i wriggle, i can't do it alone. i need help, and it was this Help that tied me up in the first place.
epic irritation right there.
gotta love having no credit to make a girl feel just that little bit more ignored than usual.
ah well, life's a sucker like that.

am i a mushroom or a nervous wreck, or am i just me?

i keep flicking bwtween three or four websites, constantly checking for the same telltale signs of occupation, or a presence other than my own.
alas no luck. nor has there been for about four days. it makes me nervous, for the sheer reason that i don't like being a mushroom - put in the dark.
nor do i like being a distracted kiddie, unable to focus.
but am all of these things, and the weather is beautiful outside, albeit a tad chilly, begging me to go and sit in the sun and listen to some of the 60 or so Hoods tracks i now have on my iPod. sadly the sun hits the paperand brings me back to reality with a blinding glare.
the oaktree by the window is growing little leaves. they look so out of proportion, sitting on the end of all these long, bare branches. but, like always, they will grow and change into that which they are designed to be.
there's a week. one single week. after tomorrow there is less to do, but more to remember, and i don't know if my mind can do it, mainly because it doesnt want to do it. the pain of boredom and lethargy outweighs the rewards right now. or, it feels like they do. in reality, getting a good score on tomorrows test would actually be the highlight of the semester.
but there is an english exposition i am writing, which i suspect i may post on here later, just to watch how people react and how many 'no's i get. i already managed to offend jimmy with it, for which i'm really sorry - i forget how outspoken i can be sometimes, and i forget how what i say might affect those around me. it's not a frequent occurrence, but it happens, and it's a rather rude reminder of how much people like that, with closed minds, irritate me. all the more reason for gentle justification of my beliefs and an acknowledgement of others as theyre usually rather different to my own.

the sun hits the window, and lights up the dust, creating a white layer over the view outside.
...i need to wash the windows.
as soon as my exams are over, i'm doing a major house overhaul, even if it's on my own when siblings are at school and parents are at work.
ideally i'll have good weather, which means major vacuuming, dusting, window washing and weeding. please don't ask why, or question it - ther eis no answer- but i find this kind of house work seriously relaxing, i guess cause the results are obvious. its the simplest form of job satisfaction.

and we must not dwell on the past, and the probable 'what if's and the other mysteries that we cannot change, because it does little good for one's self esteem, as does surfing photos of people i don't know, nor i suspect many of them i will never know.

but that's life, and this is how we live it.

Wednesday, 14 October 2009

When in doubt, eat capsicum. oh, and DON'T PANIC!

heart's pumping,
no, racing. it gets faster as the seconds tick by.
i can feel the adrenalin in my fingertips, tingling.
from little coloured pixels, and memories, and hopes and dreams.
like my fb message says.... you know it's more than just 'some thing' when you get angsty over all the silence.
and indeed angsty i am.
i'm not a patient person much of the time, but there are some things that i know take time. it's hard to keep these two in balance, and more often than not, the former wins out. because it gets results.

it's all a game of strategy: play your cards too soon and you could end up with the losing hand, but wait a little and you just might win the pot. (excusing the pun, wasn't meaning weed)
it's the perfect teenagerism of 'i want it, and i want it NOW'

it's so hard to wriggle out of once you've got comfortable with this train of thought, i got ued to it, and i know that other people don't work like i do, internally. so, it's a dificult game of trying to make a compromise, without losing that which the whole negotiation is about.

it's 4 and a bit weeks. 13th of november.
but it's so hard to wait, since it's only 30 days.
i've always said i have an addictive personality, and indeed i do: i get addicted to people, and without them i get shakey. some call it clingy, i beg to differ - there is a difference between merely seeing them fleetingly or saying hi, and needing them around all the time. i get the point of space - god knows i need it a pleanty sometimes. but sometimes it's just nice to know that there's someone to hug you, without saying a word, and you know they're there when you wanna talk.
seems to me that i have yet another personality addiction, and this one's the hardest to pinpoint. but..... we'll see. if i play said cards right, i might be able to put a label on saying 'hi, my name's liv, and i belong to someone'.

i totally get the need of some people to have someone else around. i'm one of them myself. it's just not nice to be by yourself when you want to share everything with someone.
so, i get it. i also get the need to be independant. at this stage i'm of the firm belief that i'm incapable of being totally independant - i'd totally spook myself on the first night if i was in a house on my own... plus my cooking skillz arent well... skillz that killz. more like.... skills-that-just-barely-nourish-....-oh-lets-have-a-capsicum-instead.'

Tuesday, 13 October 2009

if the boys can do it, then why can't i?

it's so good, being able to be honest about things in normal conversation. granted, it gets a raised eyebrow every now and again, but still, most people seem pretty accepting.
it's nice.
i don't know why i was so worried about what others thought, it's too much fun mucking around to bother me any more, and if it's not okay, then that's fine, just find new friends. haha, though this isn't necessary. of the people that remain my friends, they're good ones. pruned back last season's buds so that in this upcoming season, the plant as a whole could flourish. well, i think that's working.

it's ironic that people develop labels for each other, even if those labels, while once appropriate, are no longer so.
i got 'but you're olivia porteous', from a friend of mine, like it's meant to mean something special (granted, it does, but in the context, it was intended to mean the little good girl that does everything by the book and never bends the rules, let alone break them completely). i quickly informed him that clearly he didn't know me very well and outlined exactly why. i've never seen someones eyebrows shoot up so fast. =) just one of my talents, i suppose.

but thats not the point. point is, i've known these people for seven years, and some of them i still don't even know, and they don't know me. it's becoming easier as the year progresses, but, let's face it, there's three weeks of seeing eachother regularly and then nothing.

i've met people that i don't ever want to see after i graduate.
and there are others that i don't ever want to forget.
it's the latter that i'm upset to be leaving behind.
if i work it right, i won't be doing that, but still.... it's a long stretch from seeing eachother 5 days a week.
here's to regular catchups with friends that i can just be my totally uninhibited self, just as i am, without the excessive censor on my mouth of what i think of the guys and girls that walk past.

if the boys can do it, then why can't i?

Monday, 12 October 2009

oh, hello, so nice to see you again.

it's hard to express the intangible, but he's orange and yellow liquid glass, in this case. translucent and yet you see everything differently when he's around.
its reconnecting with people you lost for a while, and then found again.
trying to convey adequately exactly what 'i miss you' means, and the emotions it conveys.
to remember the laughs, and the tears, the scolding and the praise, all from the one kid i dared to open up to completely. the one i say 'love you' to and it settles between us comfortably, without any expectant other meaning. because it's a fact. i do love him.
he drives me up the wall and crazy with frustration sometimes.
but then he disappeared for a little while, post discovering there was another face in my world, at least for the moment.
never underestimate the power you hold with people. to you, it's just another moment. to them, its everything.
but sometimes it takes some pushing to remind us that it's these people that make us truly complete.
you see, life is mighty lonely without a best friend.
i got my best friend back today, and his name

is Brian.

Sunday, 11 October 2009

i killed a forest

currently tired and not wanting to face tomorrow for fear of total meltdown.
have to front up anyway. i missed the last test by no fault of my own so i gotta go awesomeness in this one.
and this is where the panic sets in at the sheer knowledge that i'm gonna disappoint myself. again.
i would have been better off doing something else. or even sticking with japanese.
too late now.

in other news: it was such an awesome day, weather wise. its the first day in like 8 months i've been able to pad around the house barefoot in a singlet and skirt and not feel cold. and the rain!!!! my whole room smelled of rain cause if the open window. was fantastic. alas there is so much paper i had to close my eyes to actually appreciate the scent.
i killed a forest by doing year 12. mentally stimulating, environmentally devastating, this year is.

am considering taking the 'like/dislike' buttons off again and just sticking with comments. its easier for my ego that way, as self-serving as that is. i promise i'll write more decent things in a month.
there'll be whole stories for them.

FUCK i just realised i have two english assignments to do tonight.
well, looks like i'm pulling an all-nighter.
i hate that i'm so lazy. its so stressful. and while all you people out there are sniggering at my blind panic, i tell you to go shove it.


just in time to fall on my face

for those around me, it's getting old to hear the excitement in my voice when i talk about some people. i know i'm repetitive. i don't really mind. what i do mind, though, is the fact that this excitement may we well be the helium baloon i inhaled last night - keeps me high and airy for a little while, then everything comes back down.
it's basic physics that even little kids know: gravity. i don't like the coming down part - it's not much fun. it is wisening, though, so i guess there's some kind of repayment.
I don't really know whats going to happen, but then, nobody does. humans are a variable too inconsistent to predict accurately in life.
but i came to a conclusion last night in between my 3rd and 4th champagne: i'm going into this world with very little experience. i'm like the shiny new kid going into a hardnut high school, with no idea what i'm going into. always was like that. but, in between the 5th and 6th, i decided to change that. i'm gonna try everything i can. be it what it is. there isn't a 'no' now. not unless its a super strong anit-feeling, in which case there is an exception.
this isn't me putting myself out there to be taken advantage of, noooo siree. this is me getting accquainted with everything i've not seen before.
who knows, it might be fun?
....or i might fall flat on my face as i suspect i will tomorrow evening.

well, we can't say i didn't at least try.

Friday, 9 October 2009

goals and dreams

a little whisper, in my mind, that i daren't say aloud in case it never happens. but then, i am a lucky person by the by, so i shall go ahead and say it anyway.
i have a little daydream of being one of those poets in the books we read at school. of being a columnist that people look forward to reading on a weekly or daily basis.
there is a poem i wrote that i stuck up on my wall. the first one i wrote in the style i love right now. it reminds me that i'm going to publish books one day.
even if i am a psychologist researching why the brain is amazing.

so there it is.

i will publish a book of my poems one day.
i'll write a column, or at least get my blog so popular it's more than 11 followers (not meaning to sound snobby, i heart the people that read it loyally)

the end.
just thought i'd say that.


i said today there was a world full of my pet peeves.
i realised just now that it's not necessarily so.
people come in all shapes and sizes.
up until now i've only ever really known one kind of person.
and then i got hurled into a world i know absolutley nothing about. it's scary, and daunting, knowing that this is how the other side of the coin looks, and knowing that i'm so inexperienced with this side that it would be so amazingly easy to be taken advantage of, and end up on the other end, bruised and battered, wondering why i didn't just stay at home.
it's everything i'm not.
and everything you are.
it worries me that that means there is little chance of this working out: people from separate worlds meet so rarely, and are compatible so rarely that it almost seems foolish to dream.
but there are stories that give us kids a reason to sit there on the swingset dreaming of a fairytale. think along the lines of Mary, crown princess of denmark.
it's the minority that influence the majority, of the message is powerful enough.
and this one's enough to tell me that it is time.
time to learn about the world i dont know.
about the clubs, about the drinks, about the tips friends running down the street yelling. about the sober friends running down the street yelling.

my life has been full of restraints, some self-imposed, some by others. rules of school, of home, of my parents. these are for the most part fair and make sense.
but its got to the point now where i want to break free and lose it.
to dance in the street, to wear my pooh bear hat outside and not be afraid of the looks i'll get.
those kids we see down the street, being loud and obnoxious and doing things that are almost certainly illegal... they know who they are, and they dont give a fuck who's looking.
don't get me wrong, the illegalities and occasional disrespectful attitude piss me off a lot of the time. but the attitude of 'who cares' is becoming rather appealing.
and i only have five weeks before i get to drop all these final restrictions.
november 13, at 12.15pm i am free of school and that routine.
five weeks to get grades and be awesome at school. and then three months to be myself, plus a little added crazy rebellion.

my impatience is growling and i suspect that mum was, again, right when she said that He would be a distraction.
i dont care. hes amazing.
and its 5 weeks. 35 days in which to stick my head down and work. and party hard. very, very hard, after.

cheers to that!

Thursday, 8 October 2009

i love

i love the sunshine.
i love the bus, even if it is at the most inconvenient of times.
i love sitting on the bus in the corner, watching the world go by as the sunshine hits my eyelids, and i can't help but smile.
i love the wind, the way it rushes through the trees at home so fast it looks like something might snap.
i love the smiles and the stares on the street i get on occasion.
i love my pooh bear hat and how it makes me feel when i put it on.
i love my dressing gown and its green fluffyness.
i love being around daniel and feeling so alive.
i love being with my sister and her commentary on life.
i love how she makes me laugh so hard i cant stand up, and end up on the sidewalk, in bubblegum and cigarette butts, laughing so hard it looks like im having a mental breakdown.
i love my friends and their humour and reliability and different perspectives on life.
i love brian and his practicality and warmth
i love justin and his, albeit alternative, attitude to everything.
i love hannah and her bubbly calm she instils on everyone she meets
i love dan/tony/dan (?!) for his never ending optimism and joviality about EVERYTHING EVER
i love jess and the unerring strength she gives me when i need help.
i love my parents for caring enough to put themselves last for almost eighteen years, so we get all the best things they can provide. i feel bad for acting spoilt on occasion, i know how hard dad works to give us the things we ask for.
i love my dogs and their weirdness, even if gus is a serial escapee, i wouldnt have them any different.
i love my school for the opportunities it's given me.
i love books and the power of knowledge they hold.
i love that i laugh at my own jokes, even if i'm the only one that hears them, or things they're actually funny.
i love summer and the beach and even the epic sunburn - its all a part of summer.
i love my red wedge heels and the power they make me feel.
i love that it's almost the end of my school life, even thoguh it's sad.

but, above all these, and including all these,
i love my life.

so, emo or not, you can stew on this for a little while. because and aside from a few minor things, i wouldn't have it any differently.
merely since if it was different, i wouldnt be me, exactly as i am, and, right now, i'm happy with who that person is.
regardless of whether you are, or not.

just a poem for the week.

You're everything I'm not.
I'm everything you are.
But you're more.
More to you than to me.

You're everything I was warned about.
You ring a bell of danger.
A warning
That I'll be left
With my heart in the gutter.

But it's the thrill of rebellion,
At least in my mind,
And no fear of injury, or death.
It's a fear of no control, instead.

It's the thrill of speeding over an overpass,
Drifting around corners,
Of losing control on a dirt patch
And finishing 270 degrees from where you were
Just a second ago.

But...... I'm not afraid.
so I don't scream....
I want to go faster.

It's the party that goes on until dawn
The arm around the shoulder,
Claiming me as his.
....Or hers.

It's the smoke that I hate
And the knowing smile that I love
And the taste of your kisses that's indescribable-
That I cannot forget just yet.

It's metal at midnight
And a purple pool table
Shooting pockets by accident
Even when we're meant to be elsewhere.

It's laughter with strangers,
Nostalgia of the past
Dotted with cautionary tales
Of laced brownies.

It's the safety of knowing I'll be caught
If ever I should fall.
It's knowing that I'm someone
Not something.
That I'm accepted as I am.
I've never said those words aloud before,
but you don't even care. they're words of truth.
Its the challenge I hate to play
But the prize is so alluring
I cannot help but try.

Its disapproval
And resentment
And all things that come
With realising I'm not a kid anymore.

A car
And the freedom it brings.....
And the insurance, rego, fuel costs.

But the freedom, oh that feeling of flying down the freeway in the middle of nowhere,
it's irresistible.

Until there's a scream of brakes
And the shriek of torn metal
And a pool of my own blood
Flowing from the car wreck that is inevitable
If I keep flying down that road.

So I keep my foot on the brake,
At least until I know where I'm going.
My map is being drawn as I write,
And will continue to be created
Even as I drive off the page.
Into the unknown white
Where only my conscience is the compass.

... yeah, i can live with that. but can you?

Monday, 5 October 2009

a clothic revolution

have just spent the hour putting on clothes. this, to people that know how much i generally loathe shopping, would probably think this is some kind of strange and cruel punishment. not this time.
i bought five items of clothes at target the other day a week ago, in fact. while i lose the interest of many kiddies here, i shall continue. theyre nice clothes, actually. i went in there all by myself, which makes all the difference. i just saw something, liked it, and put it in my basket for the chagerooms. i had an hour to kill, so i could take my time, it wasnt rushed, and i left feeling happy because i'd bought ...
  • sea green floor-length dress
  • blue knee-length dress with clream embriodery all down the back
  • a slippery black and red skirt
  • a vest/t-shirt that looks like its been cut in half.
  • and..... a pair of aqua underwear that have 'if life gives you lemons, throw them at someone!' on the ass. (i saw them and there was no question, i was buying them. as it was, turned out they were 3.50 XD)
i put them on properly and paraded to my family just before. a rare occasion i only do when i buy really expensive things such as dresses for formal.

basically, i'm in love with these clothes because i now have 8 new outfits that look good and dont involve jeans and a tshirt.

i think that it's time to put aside the traditional livvy-isms and go with the flow because being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn is pointless, and now i can see why girls love shopping. looking good, feeling good, all over some stupid fabric and thread may be trivbial, and i knoiw there are many more things worth being happy over, but there, in my cupboard, are things that make me happy with myself, with my body, with me. that whisper of the fun i will have (and have had) in them. they whisper of summer, and smiles, and love, and heartbreak, and the peaceful knowledge taht life is looking ahead.

i for one can't wait.

Sunday, 4 October 2009

trust vs idiot

after reading yet another personal message, i feel inspired to write a little, hence this post.

i've never trusted people enough to tell them some things. for good reason: people are untrustworthy things- they have their proven this time and again with keeping their own interests at heart at all times, and boy oh boy i know some nasty characters in this regard. that's life i guess, but it grates against me to know that they exist and what the hell made them that way.
i never was one for keeping things in, either. i'm a chatterbox, ask anyone that knows me beyond the point of acquaintence, or even easier, look at the number and length of my posts on the beloved little blog of mine.
in any case.... this talkativeness often gets me in trouble with myself, and others. not because it is solely others tales i tell, but my own. my logic: i have to deal with any crap that comes along with it too.
these two things aren't exactly what you'd call a match made in heaven., but, this is how i am and how i will remain.
this is also not what i'm wrtiting about.
it is more a matter of silence. not my own, mind.
i think its ironic that people are so trusting of others. i guess its all a matter of experience:
fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twice, and shame on me.
i got lucky, and there hasnt been a second time. for some, these seconds come time and again, and we all sit down and wonder why?

don't get me wrong, faith is a necessary part of life. essential. but only to a point.
but at what point is that line crossing into naievety?

Saturday, 3 October 2009

rise against

In fields where nothing grew but weeds,
I found a flower at my feet,
bending there in my direction.
I wrapped a hand around its stem
and pulled until the roots gave in,
finding there what I've been missing.
And I know....

So I tell myself, I tell myself, it's wrong.
There's a point we pass from which we can't return.
I felt the cold rain of the coming storm...

All because of you,
I haven't slept in so long.
When I do I dream
of drowning in the ocean;
longing for the shore
where I can lay my head down.
I'll follow your voice;
all you have to do is
shout it out!

Inside my hands these petals browned;
dried up falling to the ground,
but it was already too late now.
I pushed my fingers through the earth,
returned this flower to the dirt;
so it could live, I walked away now.
But I know...

Not a day goes by when I don't feel this burn.
There's a point we pass from which we can't return.
I felt the cold rain of the coming storm...

All because of you,
I haven't slept in so long.
When I do I dream
of drowning in the ocean;
longing for the shore
where I can lay my head down.
I'll follow your voice;
all you have to do is
shout it out!

All because of you.
All because of you.

All because of you,
I haven't slept in so long.
When I do I dream
of drowning in the ocean;
longing for the shore
where I can lay my head down.
Inside these arms of yours.

All because of you
I believe in angels.
Not the kind with wings,
no, not the kind with halos;
the kind that bring you home
when home becomes a strange place.
I'll follow your voice;
all you have to do is
shout it out!

I know not why these affect me so.
there is power behind these words. power that rocks my core when i really really listen. I do not do this much because it leaves me with such a devoid feeling. i know that's an oxymoron right there, but listen to it. really listen. the rhythm, the melody, the meaning.
why did they write this?
i know why i would.
and it was brave of them.
music is brave. to be able to tell this, without giving it away.
to affect people without ever meeting them, or knowing them at all.
is magic.

stream of philosophic consciousness

it's like putting a stone in the middle of a piece of soft plastic, just floating on the surface, and watching it sink.
it's clear, but its dark down there, and deep, and it's not long before it disappears out of sight, with the last remining air bubbles wobbling to the surface, before silence.
its a blank reassurance.
there is plenty of time, don't freak out.
it's a lie.
there isn't plenty of time, not in my mind anyway. months fly by so fast these days. maybe that's because there's a lot to fill in the hours. come summer time there will be days in which the only obligation i have is an early morning walk with my dog, and then hours spent swimming and laying in the sun, sleeping.
but then March will ... well.... march into this dream, and life will begin again, and people will disappear, and reappear, and disappear all over again.
and the world will resume its normal pace of 'hectic-to-the-point-of-exhaustion'
or maybe that's just me getting too used to the lifestyle of year 12.
it's almost over. i'm so excited. the exams aren't worrying me too much because i know they will happen whether i want them to or not, and i have to try my best at the time, regardless of the result. and then my world opens up. think...... the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, when they open up that TINY door at the end of the corridor, and they step out of a massive one into that incredible room.
that is me, by the door, about to turn the handle.

so tell me, my friends, what lies on the other side?

Oh, and a brief note about something i noticed the other day: there were links recorded on my statBlog about people being in the early 2008 and 2007 archives. i checked it out. all three years. people, though i suspect it is only one person, have checked 'yes' for every single post i've ever written.
unless this is a creepy stalkerish thing, to which i say 'bugger off'..... i sincerely hope that you read the posts rather than just clicked the buttons. i also sincerely thank you for the little bubble of happiness/pride i felt when i came to this realisation.
i would love for you to comment this post so i can actually say hi properly, regardles of who you are.
thanks XD

Friday, 2 October 2009


it's a steel wire, being coiled into a a spring.
it's an excitement. and a horror.
i hate people that tag things with their mark, like they need to destroy things to make people notice them.
i wonder what went wrong when people shout their rage at the Institutions that make our world.
is it lack of education?
fear of not belonging that draws others together?
is it destroying the mind with the power of alcohol?
or drugs?
i hate drugs. their enticing effect of destroying reality. the way that what goes up must come down. the way they burn holes in pockets, the way they turn beautiful people into mindless zombies, giggling heaps, or raging bundles of dangerous muscle.
why do people take them? dont they realise its like swallowing poison?
same with nicotine.
drench them all in water. ruin them.
why do we do things that hurt us? are humans, beneath the surface, doomed to self destruct?
i think we are. not all, but some.
i feel hopeless that it happens
and that it is neither my place, nor my right to say a word against it.

the intimidation....
the makeup, the hair, the eyes, the clothes.
is all a facade.
we're all the same, beneath the clothes.
and yet..... we cannot get along, and meld normally.

I am of the catergory that loathes vandals, and has respect for the police. i like the ideals of our society. and i like order, even if this order is a little chaotic. i don't understand self destruction. i undertsand existentialism. i live it. but mutilation, agression, i do not undertand.

won't someone please help me to understand why?

Thursday, 1 October 2009

i am not.

am in a rather tired, irritated mood at the moment. This may be because i was up til 1am talking, when i should have gone to bed at 9.
I've almost finished my Dukes report, but with two days still to go and 2400 words behind me so far, it's moderatley painful to realise this report will probably be over 3500 words and i have spent the time i should have been with Daniel, in bed being pissy and writing whilst trying to keep the venom out of me words.

I hate not having a car
I hate having to rely on other people for things
I hate that I have to rely on the public transport system.
I hate that i have so much work to do right now,
and that place i want to be, is 48 km away in a place i don't even know other than the name and how to get there.
I hate that i know that things would feel better if he was holding me.
because nothing can hurt me when he does.
I hate that i'm sitting here in shorts and knee-high ugg boots, under a quilt, on a sheetless bed, when i could be somewhere else.
and i hate that regina spektor is playing in a tinny voice through my sister's laptop in the dining room, shattering my nicely made air of irritation with jumping notes and a piano.

i cant wait til i get a car.....
but it seems that the ones I choose aren't good enough for my mums standards. i know it has to be able to get up and down the freeway etc, but i dont give a flying fig if its got 60000km under the hood or 2000km. and all the ones she picks out are fantastic to her.
except that i can't afford them.
theyre $12 000 too much. and all she says is 'keep saving'.
Fuck that. i'm happy with anything, so long as i can drive it.
i NEED this. its driving me mental,
like putting a tiger in a cage, after it's had a taste of true freedom.