A Reply to the Anon. Voices of Disapproval

You may hate what i write.

You may think I'm an idiot with no time whatsoever.

But what you will never have is an understanding of why I spend my time writing.

To me, writing is like ..... pulling the plug out of an overflowing sink - all the water flows out. I write to show my ideas, my beliefs, my perspective. It keeps me sane and, above all things, calm.Ii write so that I don't yell or scream or say horrible things about the people around me. I have been brought up to be better than that.

I understand that many do not share, or even like my perspectives. I accept that.

But next time you want to criticise ME, for when you criticise my work, you are insulting who I am, please, be honest enough to tell me who you are.

What way, I can ask you why you think my work is nonsense and how, in your opinion, I can improve it. I may not change it, but at least I know why you don't like it, so its useful and not just cruel.

Oh, and for the two (or one) person(s) that commented...

Roflmao -- means rolling on the floor laughing my ass off...... if I'm old, what are you, like 4?! I'm not an idiot to internet slang, I use it too!

And for the other...

I only write when I have time. I don't have too much time, and I'm still at school, which means that most of my time is spent either at school, doing homework or learning to drive. Don't criticise that which I cannot change about myself. For the same reasons that you play Xbox live, ride horses, drink booze, watch TV or draw cartoons, I write .... because I enjoy it.

So from now on, if you want to comment, you have to leave some form of identity, none of this 'anonymous' nonsense.

The fight

Fighting to stay the same.

the battle is always lost. 

we evolve constantly, even though we don't want to.

when things happen, they cannot be reversed - we have yet to create a time loop to change the past.

we fight the change with every fibre in our beings. if we are smart, we accept this if we are not, we will keep fighting with our last breaths, making ourselves sad and miserable and lonely. 

so for those of us that have accepted it, it is with a heavy heart that we say goodbye to these times that we so loved.

the biggest challenge for people is to make a mental plan outlining what the future may be in these new and, for the most part, unknown times.

it is hard, there is no denying that. writing it down ends up as some strange, existential letter to an unknown recipient: yourself.

we never know truly what will happen, but the plan that we make prepares us, at least partially, for the life that lays before us.

This List.

Here is a paragraph of all the things i can think of that have a special meaning to me of some kind. over the course of time, i hope i will be able to explain them all to you.

Dirt. apples. canvas. cherries. summer. skis. Centre on court. Pine tree roots and storm water drains. Sheet Music. Crystal star. nightmares. the letter 'O'. 6km. running. honesty. yellow grass. Wisdom, not knowledge. Garbage bins full of water. Gutter dam. V for Vendetta. family. morality. values. computer hard drive. balloons. genetics. hay. dogs. Rosco. Naracoorte. bubbles. cannonballs. passion. Grampians. David. Monkeys. My English teacher. smiles. eyes. light refraction. australia. the girl who could leap through time. rubber ducky. Foxy. Mineshaft. ice cream. Hannah. Puddles. laughter. lucid dreams. Rain. truth. Psychology. Food. curiosity. biology. Light. White. LIFE

This list will grow as i grow. It will change.

Life. There Is No Other Alternative!

Today I read Randy Pausch's book, "The Last Lecture".
Today I mourn his death, two days ago, on July 25th 2008.
He died of pancreatic cancer, but before he did, he left a global legacy for his children.

Its not until something similar happens within your own life that you really begin to get the message that he's trying to convey: use your time on earth to live.

I have been kept mercifully away from death. I do not know how I will cope when it finally comes and takes away someone that I love.
I am not afraid of death.
I am afraid of a life without the people I care about.
I am afraid of a life without anyone to share my laughs, my tears, the successes and the failures; someone to eat grapes with in the summer sun and to tell my shockingly bad jokes to.

Isn't everyone afraid of that?

Mathematical Miracles

Right now, it's like I've disappeared. not my body - it's still here, but i look inside and feel so, so heavy. it's an effort to think straight. I know that I'll feel better after a few nights on a better sleeping pattern, but until such time, I'm exhausted simply by living.
I can't concentrate on the creative things or translating or the social complexities that surround me.
but today... today I confirmed my suspicions that when all else is muddles and confused, it is the rigid structure of formulae that save me.
maths.
co-ordinate geometry, to be exact.
I hate the subject more than anything else in the entire mathematical region. even calculus is better than it (although that statement is hypocritical, for calculus is just co-ordinate geometry with curvy lines)
but today... today I understood it. today I flew through the set questions. despite my cold legs and toes, the hour and forty minutes went really fast.
it was fantastic.

the same thing happened in chemistry. a set formula with only a little of ones own thinking required. another subject i usually don't understand.

I guess it only proves that even though it seems that everything else is hopeless, and all you want to do is curl up in the sun and never move again, you find something good about the day.

now that I'm feeling marginally better I am much slower at completing the calculations, but I am still getting there.
mathematical miracles happen, I suppose.
:)

Wavelengths

What is a comparison?
Why do they happen?
And most importantly,
Why on earth is everything a competition?!

I ignore it as best as I can, but knowing that said person will never read this, I will say this.

No matter what the topic of conversation, it is always a competition to be the 'better' of the two of us.

Why?

I don't know. It is annoying and frustrating. To top it off, my gentle (and I mean gentle - for they get offended very easily) pushes to try and tell them that they cannot hold a conversation with me (in other words, of course) are either ignored, or missed entirely. It seems that the only way to get through is to offend. And though not hard to do, once they get defensive, I have no hope in hell of getting through.

Which brings me to my next point.

At what point in life do we find people that we get, and that get us?
or rather, more than one person.

I have two people, and Ii love him and her to death, but why do I find myself stuck in life with people that have no hope of understanding me, and I them?

I may be only sixteen, and so haven't had the chance to meet quite as many people as I will, but it is hard and on occasion, very lonely. I am hoping that as my life progresses I have the chance to meet those that I click with. The person that most others think I click with I can't because our intellectual wavelengths are so different and this is blindingly obvious once you start talking to her and me at once.


I love to debate the current issues as well as the age old debates of nature vs nurture, what would the world do without money or the realistic chances of world peace. The human mind facinates me. Writing is my lifeline when I feel lost or alone. I love hugs and kisses. I have a razor sharp sense of humour and laugh at my own jokes, even if I'm the only one in the room, for my jokes unfold as cartoons in my mind.I love the open plains, the light through a gumleaf, the way the sunbeams light up my world at 4pm in the afternoon.

Is it so wrong to want to find people that share and appreciate those things?

the moon

although it is simply a atmosphere-less ball of compressed space dust and rock, there is something about it that gives it an air of mystery.

it floats above us, silently observing. an unlikely comfort during the night.

when the air in the upper atmospheres is cold, and rain is coming, there is a shining ring around the moon. ice particles form in the air and the sunlight that reflects off the moon, lighing it up, refracts off the ice, making the haze that shrouds the moon.

even though there is science, even though there are explanations and proof, I still look up at the moon and dare to dream.

for as human beings, we cannot yet understand the future, we do not succumb fully to the total truth of science, indeed some reject it entirely, but still we look up to the sky and wonder. we look up and dream, dream about what is, what has been and what has yet to come.

....

sometimes i wonder if this guy has a camera into my life and is drawing it...



comic courtesy of xkcd.com a fantastically hilarious comic site for those who get the humour.

My State of Calm

It's still, the only movement is the gentle flowing of blue and orange around me. the world feels like a flat expanse that goes on forever. beyond the blue and orange, there is only white. Its like a veil I cant see beyond, its so absolute in its existence.
There is nothing else around. just me and the blue and orange waves of colour surrounding me. They're not threatening, they can't hurt me - there's no body to hurt. I exist, but there is no physical proof of that. I can see, but I have no eyes. I must have a consciousness - I know I exist. I know I can't move. I just stay stationary as more rippling shapes fade into view. green and purple. red and yellow. pink and orange.
They're all stretched in rows, waving and twisting, all pointing on the same direction, then they move towards me, enveloping me in bright colour. I am warm and content - the colours slowly swirling around me are relaxing me into a state of calm where I close my eyes and the white fades into dark and I rest, knowing that when I open my eyes again, I will be with the ribbons of colour once again.

Happiness

Happiness is like a bubble that rises from my stomach (the origins of all my feelings, apparently) and expands in my chest until I cannot hold it any longer and it spills out of me in the form is a smile, a laugh or a really right hug.

It’s green and gold.

Don’t ask me why - I have no idea whatsoever.

It's drinking hot chocolate lying on a friend’s bed reminiscing about when we were kids

It's talking to someone and realising that you sound exactly like your favourite comic

It's lying on the grass cool grass, smelling the dirt and grass in the air after running around with the dog

It’s the feeling that sends me so high that all my strings are taut and threatening to snap, sending me soaring into the air, flying over all the sad or miserable people of this earth.

I am one of those people sometimes, but then I remember that summer is coming.

Summer is the highlight of my existence - it is a perpetual happy-bubble for three months straight.

The trees are green, the air is warm, and me and Hannah lie on the grass in the middle of the oval and eat grapes fresh from the supermarket, the sun beating down, laughing.

This is happiness.

Total bliss

I have a friend

I have a friend.

This doesn't surprise most people, but it is surprising to me that such a close bond may be formed while enduring the ups and downs of senior high school. Tests, exams and the constant stream of irritations during class leave me one hell of a cow sometimes. The fact that he just takes my moods in his stride and adapts to it amazes me.

I don't know why we are such good friends - he loves music, manga and his cat panda, while i love to paint, write and study the mind. i'm also NOT a cat-person (with the exception of a beautiful big ginger cat called Rosco).

The fact that we befriended each other in the midst of a mass rubbish-pick-up is the most likely indicator that this was not going to be an ordinary friendship. Well, not by my other friendship's standards, anyway.
We've done the motions of flirtation, but friendship is more fun - theres no danger of hurting his feelings with the fact that im a natural flirt.

His wicked and quirky sense of humour often has me in stitches and yet he can being me back down to earth gently when my strings are cut and i float too high.

I am envious of the way in which he is able to accept things and adapt to them without too much comment, and how, until i demanded that he stopped, he would open the door for me (he still waits for me to enter before he does, despite persistent vocal opposition).

I hope that everyone is lucky enough to find that person among their own lives. They are never in the obvious places - i have known him for 6 years, but until 3 years ago i never bothered to get to know him.

In short, i am so lucky to have him as my best friend, and when i grow up i want to be as kind, gentle, strong and loyal as he is.

I Miss

I miss the old times.
When it was summer.
So hot that there was little to do but lay in the cool green grass and stare at the sky.
We would laugh and laugh over the smallest of things.
I miss those times.

I miss the times when all it took was one look into your eyes for someone to know.
Know what, exactly, i have yet to uncover that.

I have a memory that i don't even know whether its real or not. I suspect not, but it is one of the happiest things i can think of at this present time...

Its warm on my face, and too bright to keep my eyes open, so they are closed. i can see the leaves moving above me by the change in pink intensity on my eyelids. although the sun is warm, the grass is cold, and the breeze makes me shiver.
A hand slides up and down my arm in an attempt to warm me. i smile, eyes still closed. the hand laces its finger through my upturned palm. i take the hand and kiss the back of it, still not moving from my position. my head jerks up and down suddenly: the warm tummy i had been resting on laughed. i sit up as he does and smile at him: his presence here feels so natural, so normal, that it makes the experience all the more special.
His face is lit by the sunlight filtering through the trees, lighting up his eyes, making him all the more amazing.
He leans into me and i to him. our lips touch, remembering one another. then we lay down again on the grass, content and happy.

i miss these times.
let summer come again, and with it light, happiness and a feeling of such content, i could melt into the sunlight.