i'm a game player.
not with boards, cards or even videos or consoles.
only with my words.
i am a magician.
able to make my feelings disappear in an instant if they are not glued to someone on totality.
i was broken once. a little boy was playing with figurines, and dropped me by accident.
i guess i broke a little more than i thought.
my friend has a quote on his msn right now. it's been there for ages:
"Life has been less then kind take a number stand in line We've all been sorry we've all be hurt how we survive makes us who we are"
i forget what band sings it. it was a good song anyway.
it made me think just now.... what if we dont survive though? we live in a world of broken people. noone stays innocent from life for long. there are those who lose their life to their struggles. but still, there are millions more who go through life wondering how on earth they wound up like this.
to them, broken words are beautiful. to the healthy, they seem repetitive and useless.
which one am i?
i don't know anymore.
who am i?
i am dr jekyll and mr hyde.
i love being the doctor. i hate hyde
give me a personality split any time. im this close to it anyway ><
i shoudn't be writing now. im in the mr hyde side atm.
jasmine's in full force.
watch out is a warning to everyone i know, and to myself.
Sunday, 4 January 2009
Saturday, 3 January 2009
there comes a time when i am more irrational, more real, than any other time. that time is now. i am too tired to care of the consequences of my words, so i say them anyway. i am even too tired to write. which is a shame because despite my exhaustion im burning up inside with questions to ask. i guess i should just go to sleep. maybe i will if i can get rid of the mozzie in my room..... stupid mozzies.
Friday, 2 January 2009
Review 366
Well.... I guess I have to write it aloud (?) sometime:
It's 2009, the product of 366 days of 2008 (yes, it was a leap year).
I learned a lot.
I still have a lot to learn.
I thought I kept my cool pretty well this year. There were times, I'll admit, when I wanted to totally lose it at everyone. Sometimes, I did. But not many times. Nothing like the past three years, which was good.
There are three times that I can remember really and truly crying. Not the occasional tear at the movies, but being totally overcome. One was overdue grief. One was because I felt like I was being pushed around, ignored and totally railroaded about my own life. The last one was about a boy. In that order. All three of which, I wrote about in some way or another.
I've made new friends, begun the irreversible, slow, painful split with others, smiled more times than I can remember and done better in tests than, like, ever.
I'm no longer the go-to girl in class. That's fine. I can still get away with almost everything. On the odd occasion, it does pay well to be a partial teachers pet.
I met people I will never forget. Pete. Tony. I found a best friend in an ordinary one, one of the nicest people I have EVER met.
The ongoing drama of the on-again, off-again relationship finally ended once and for all. It's a relief, I guess. Though I'm still single and in want of a cuddle buddy to call my boyfriend. The leaders for our year were named. I didn't get in. I was pissed. Oh, there's the 4th time I cried. Not over the white blazer, of not being able to look special, different, instead, I was upset that I didn't get the chance to make a difference in terms of the house cup. Though, if I had done more sport I think I may have won in. But also, I'm a fairly carefree person, at least to those not in my head (which is everyone who doesn't read this... so... lots of people). So, maybe I seemed unfazed by the outcome. Not true. Though, it happened. But like mum said, it's hard to be okay, to not to be upset when you have your heart set on something and that something doesn't happen.
There were stupendous fights, and times when I've not been able to breathe for all the laughing.
We got a dog, sorry, a smiling thug (hes so big now it's hard to believe I used to be able to pick him up with three fingers supporting him).
I got a perfect exam score, a teapot and a cupcake with a candle in it.
And I think the most important thing I've done all year, is actually pay attention to this blog. To write on it religiously whenever something in my life is worth me thinking about more than 5 times in an hour. It's been my therapy. My savior. In a twisted sense of the world, its been my God. Someone to talk to when I get stressed or hyper, or feel like having a good hard bitch about society. My friends and families door into my mind to see the psychotic little elf that's working the controls.
Well, that's 2008.
This is the here and now: 2009.
The final year of school, the year I grow up the most. I have to, if I want to travel overseas solo.
No more airy-fairy Livvy. I want to get into uni, travel, and get along with my peers. It's so hard to do sometimes. I guess it's okay though, because, in the extreme, if I don't want to, I'll never have to see some of them again. Which is kinda a sad thought - I've spent the last...... 6 years with these people. And I'm about to embark on my 7th.
Lucky 7.
Most prosperous number, apparently.
Let's hope so, because I have to get a TER score of over 96.5 to get into what I want at uni. But I have my heart set on it. I'll get it if I'm determined enough.
And I am.
Just you watch me shoot through the stars and hit my head on the universe. This is my year to make a difference. And believe me, it will be different.
It's 2009, the product of 366 days of 2008 (yes, it was a leap year).
I learned a lot.
I still have a lot to learn.
I thought I kept my cool pretty well this year. There were times, I'll admit, when I wanted to totally lose it at everyone. Sometimes, I did. But not many times. Nothing like the past three years, which was good.
There are three times that I can remember really and truly crying. Not the occasional tear at the movies, but being totally overcome. One was overdue grief. One was because I felt like I was being pushed around, ignored and totally railroaded about my own life. The last one was about a boy. In that order. All three of which, I wrote about in some way or another.
I've made new friends, begun the irreversible, slow, painful split with others, smiled more times than I can remember and done better in tests than, like, ever.
I'm no longer the go-to girl in class. That's fine. I can still get away with almost everything. On the odd occasion, it does pay well to be a partial teachers pet.
I met people I will never forget. Pete. Tony. I found a best friend in an ordinary one, one of the nicest people I have EVER met.
The ongoing drama of the on-again, off-again relationship finally ended once and for all. It's a relief, I guess. Though I'm still single and in want of a cuddle buddy to call my boyfriend. The leaders for our year were named. I didn't get in. I was pissed. Oh, there's the 4th time I cried. Not over the white blazer, of not being able to look special, different, instead, I was upset that I didn't get the chance to make a difference in terms of the house cup. Though, if I had done more sport I think I may have won in. But also, I'm a fairly carefree person, at least to those not in my head (which is everyone who doesn't read this... so... lots of people). So, maybe I seemed unfazed by the outcome. Not true. Though, it happened. But like mum said, it's hard to be okay, to not to be upset when you have your heart set on something and that something doesn't happen.
There were stupendous fights, and times when I've not been able to breathe for all the laughing.
We got a dog, sorry, a smiling thug (hes so big now it's hard to believe I used to be able to pick him up with three fingers supporting him).
I got a perfect exam score, a teapot and a cupcake with a candle in it.
And I think the most important thing I've done all year, is actually pay attention to this blog. To write on it religiously whenever something in my life is worth me thinking about more than 5 times in an hour. It's been my therapy. My savior. In a twisted sense of the world, its been my God. Someone to talk to when I get stressed or hyper, or feel like having a good hard bitch about society. My friends and families door into my mind to see the psychotic little elf that's working the controls.
Well, that's 2008.
This is the here and now: 2009.
The final year of school, the year I grow up the most. I have to, if I want to travel overseas solo.
No more airy-fairy Livvy. I want to get into uni, travel, and get along with my peers. It's so hard to do sometimes. I guess it's okay though, because, in the extreme, if I don't want to, I'll never have to see some of them again. Which is kinda a sad thought - I've spent the last...... 6 years with these people. And I'm about to embark on my 7th.
Lucky 7.
Most prosperous number, apparently.
Let's hope so, because I have to get a TER score of over 96.5 to get into what I want at uni. But I have my heart set on it. I'll get it if I'm determined enough.
And I am.
Just you watch me shoot through the stars and hit my head on the universe. This is my year to make a difference. And believe me, it will be different.
40 minutes
Future heroes.
I've been writing for over an hour already. So I'm pretty worn out, emotionally. and its only 10.30. geez, what a fun start to the day.
well, this isn't a post about the past year. though i should probably do one of those, 08 changed me. simple as that, i ought to give it at lease a little credit in the form of a post from the very core of my being.
anyway....
on a totally opposite pole, i wanted, actually, to talk about the future.
so much emphasis is put onto year 12 as the defining year of our lives. the sad fact is: they mislead us with that statement. turns out that you can redo sace stage 2 (year 12) up to three times, if you really want to. you also have the option of deferring any uni courses for a year. or, you can keep the same ter and use it in the following year's admittance. so, in other words, you have three chances at year 12 and two chances at uni. and that has nothing to do with possible overseas moves, tafe courses or apprenticeships.
so, really, why do they tell us that this is the all-defining year? so that we work out hardest so that the extra bazillion chances are not needed.
now that I've got that off my chest, i have every intention of pondering my own future.
i want to travel, i know that. i want to see the world. though, i thinking that I'll do that after I've been to uni - everyone, rather, everyone of influence upon my life, seems to think that if i stop for a year, I'll never get started again.
wow. thanks for the vote of confidence, guys.
well, i guess I'll just have to prove myself to them then, wont i?
ppht...
i know what i want to study at uni. both courses. its just a shame you cant do a double degree in psychology and teaching. I'd love to be a teacher. it seems like the most trying job - you have to be a parent without actually being one. you can only scold or praise so much. you have to nurtre and dicipline at the same time. it can't be easy. specially not with some of the ratbags attending school. i think i'd be a good teacher. i hope i would be, anyway.
i guess, i have a hidden desire to be great. not just good, or helpful or efficient. great. a pioneer in something. i've seen the remakes of some of the most influenceal people in the helping and teaching industries. i cant even name some of them, i know them by their actioans though. Hunter 'patch' adams. Ron Clark. Erin Gruwell. Pierre Dulaine. They all had unusual methods, all made amazing differences. I have been asked many times 'who is your hero?' and i never had ana answer. now, i finally realise, i had one all along: these people. the first three in particular (im afraid i do not feel the same amount of passion for dancing as i do for the actual art of teaching). these are my heroes, they that i look up to, that i want to be like whtn i grow up. what's wrong with being a dreamer if your dream is to improve the quality of other's lives exponentionally?
so.. yeah, bit of a tangent there. and i'm losing focus now. so i guess ill stop and continue this later. at which time i'll fix up the grammar too.
Until next time,
Olivia, the dreamer.
well, this isn't a post about the past year. though i should probably do one of those, 08 changed me. simple as that, i ought to give it at lease a little credit in the form of a post from the very core of my being.
anyway....
on a totally opposite pole, i wanted, actually, to talk about the future.
so much emphasis is put onto year 12 as the defining year of our lives. the sad fact is: they mislead us with that statement. turns out that you can redo sace stage 2 (year 12) up to three times, if you really want to. you also have the option of deferring any uni courses for a year. or, you can keep the same ter and use it in the following year's admittance. so, in other words, you have three chances at year 12 and two chances at uni. and that has nothing to do with possible overseas moves, tafe courses or apprenticeships.
so, really, why do they tell us that this is the all-defining year? so that we work out hardest so that the extra bazillion chances are not needed.
now that I've got that off my chest, i have every intention of pondering my own future.
i want to travel, i know that. i want to see the world. though, i thinking that I'll do that after I've been to uni - everyone, rather, everyone of influence upon my life, seems to think that if i stop for a year, I'll never get started again.
wow. thanks for the vote of confidence, guys.
well, i guess I'll just have to prove myself to them then, wont i?
ppht...
i know what i want to study at uni. both courses. its just a shame you cant do a double degree in psychology and teaching. I'd love to be a teacher. it seems like the most trying job - you have to be a parent without actually being one. you can only scold or praise so much. you have to nurtre and dicipline at the same time. it can't be easy. specially not with some of the ratbags attending school. i think i'd be a good teacher. i hope i would be, anyway.
i guess, i have a hidden desire to be great. not just good, or helpful or efficient. great. a pioneer in something. i've seen the remakes of some of the most influenceal people in the helping and teaching industries. i cant even name some of them, i know them by their actioans though. Hunter 'patch' adams. Ron Clark. Erin Gruwell. Pierre Dulaine. They all had unusual methods, all made amazing differences. I have been asked many times 'who is your hero?' and i never had ana answer. now, i finally realise, i had one all along: these people. the first three in particular (im afraid i do not feel the same amount of passion for dancing as i do for the actual art of teaching). these are my heroes, they that i look up to, that i want to be like whtn i grow up. what's wrong with being a dreamer if your dream is to improve the quality of other's lives exponentionally?
so.. yeah, bit of a tangent there. and i'm losing focus now. so i guess ill stop and continue this later. at which time i'll fix up the grammar too.
Until next time,
Olivia, the dreamer.
40 minutes
Thursday, 1 January 2009
My Lion
He's like a lion, confident, loud, stretching out on his throne.
She knows he is the dominant one, that she would have no hope of escaping if she struggled against him. But she doesn't mind, because there is a majesty about him, an air of leadership, strength, that draws her to him like pollen calls the bees. She is not a captive, but a willing observer.
Like the ordinary feline, he is stealthy, cunning. Unlike others, though, he is kind and unusual in mannerisms. The Carnal Desire ever present, he is not afraid to display it when the opportunity is optimal. Vicious on the hunt; and in punishment unlike any carnivore - they are not physical wounds, only deathly silence or disappointment, which are more painful than any cut or scrape or bruise.
He is an unusual lion to her, unique in her experience with personalities. He is boisterous and rude, but incredibly caring and full of loyalty. They don't associate lions with loyalty for nothing.
And throughout all of this, though he is only a friend, he is a lion.
My Lion.
She knows he is the dominant one, that she would have no hope of escaping if she struggled against him. But she doesn't mind, because there is a majesty about him, an air of leadership, strength, that draws her to him like pollen calls the bees. She is not a captive, but a willing observer.
Like the ordinary feline, he is stealthy, cunning. Unlike others, though, he is kind and unusual in mannerisms. The Carnal Desire ever present, he is not afraid to display it when the opportunity is optimal. Vicious on the hunt; and in punishment unlike any carnivore - they are not physical wounds, only deathly silence or disappointment, which are more painful than any cut or scrape or bruise.
He is an unusual lion to her, unique in her experience with personalities. He is boisterous and rude, but incredibly caring and full of loyalty. They don't associate lions with loyalty for nothing.
And throughout all of this, though he is only a friend, he is a lion.
My Lion.
10 mins
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