Cigarettes and Parkbenches.

For The First Time, I Understand.

2011-11-09T19:09:00.002+11:00

It doesn't have to be hard. It doesn't have to be complicated. It doesn't have to be confusing. Some things are, but this doesn't have to be.

And it isn't. For the first time, it isn't hard. It's not complicated. I'm not confused.

It's perfect.

Freedom!

2011-09-23T23:00:00.003+10:00

Freedom is something that is very important to me. It's as simple as deciding that you feel like walking down to the lake on a Saturday morning and having a coffee with the ducks, and not having to explain to anybody why you feel like doing that. It's staying awake until the sun comes up and walking across to the beach to watch it rise and not having anybody wanting to come with you. It's getting drunk and writing ridiculous things until 4:30 in the morning and nobody worrying about that.
Freedom, to me, really is as simple as that. I don't understand why it should be more complicated?

Yesterday's Last Year.

2011-09-10T00:13:00.006+10:00

Waking up at 2:30PM on a Sunday, with that deep, rotten feeling in your gut that you've ruined your life a little more. Again. I don't want that anymore.

I know exactly what happened. I don't need a therapist or a fucking doctor to tell me that. I have a friend who is probably just about as lonely as I am, and we evened eachother out. He was good company for me. We were lonely and we lived under the same roof, and the story tells itself really.

I don't really talk to him too much anymore. I'm not really sure why.

Oh God, I can't handle this crap. I don't want to talk about myself anymore either.

Pass me another beer.

I'm very well aware that I could be an alcoholic.

I Feel Like I'm Just Meeting Different Versions of the Same People

2011-08-01T20:47:00.001+10:00

I think I’m at a strange place in my life right now.
I often convince myself that I am happy to be alone. That I’m happy with the routine I have given myself and stuck to for the past couple of years. And most of the time it’s true. I like my own space and I like spending time on my own. I think that I am a fairly independent person, and I like living a simple life. I don’t need much at all.
But sometimes, and only sometimes, I do feel lonely.
I have a hard time meeting people, though. It’s not that I don’t get along with people, because I do, I get along with people fine. It’s just when I actually do meet people, and I’m getting to know them for the first time, it always seems so fake. I don’t want to sit there for two hours and have a conversation with somebody about what each of us do for a job, what we do in our spare time, how many brothers and sisters we have etc etc etc. It’s all so repetitive, and I feel like I’m just meeting different versions of the same people over and over again.
I find myself sitting there, not really giving a crap about what the other person is saying. I’m literally completely uninterested in other people.

And that's quite worrying, I'd say.

In The Way We Choose To Live It.

2011-06-19T21:01:00.003+10:00

People think I'm stronger than I actually am. I feel like I have to live up to it or something. I don't feel stronger than anybody else.
I'm able to look past many things that many people can't, but I don't really think that has anything to do with being strong - I think it's just a state of mind. It's a state of mind that everybody has but not everybody grasps. They probably could if they wanted to, but they don't.
My mum died when I was fourteen. I know that it may have something to do with the person I am right now, but I have a hard time talking about it. I used to be able to talk about it with anybody, anytime, anywhere. But now I just don't really feel like I can. I just don't really want to. I seem to be having a hard time admitting things to myself right now, and I don't really understand why.
I used to be the kind of person who would get over people pretty quickly - I knew that what was done, was done and there wasn't anything I could do about it. These sorts of things happen every day and I needed to learn to grow the fuck up. But to be honest - it hurts more now because I can't talk about it. Because I don't have anything to really say about it. Because we don't even talk about it, so I don't want to talk to anybody else about it.
Because it pisses me off that I am even writing this, because it should be easier than this.
And it is. It is easier than this. In reality, but not in the way we choose to live it.

Everybody knows "Friends With Benefts" is Crap

2011-05-31T20:59:00.002+10:00

I sat here for a few minutes, ready to pour out the situation here. But I can't do it.

Some things are better left unsaid and for sake of the fact that our friendship still remains because neither of us talk about it, I won't.

8:24pm

2011-05-31T20:04:00.002+10:00

Sometimes, I wake up and wonder if my entire life is some kind of joke somebody is playing on me. It's not that there is anything particularly wrong with my life. I mean, I quite enjoy it to be honest. I live a life so simple, that I know for a fact that people around me can't understand. Or won't. I work five days a week in a job which may or may not actually have a future in it for me. Sure, there's places I want to get to - in my career, in life, in general. I'm not moving though. I'm not really getting anywhere in particular.
My living situations have changed dramatically over the past three years, but my post code remains the same. My job description has changed, but not my place of work. My debts have increased, but my assets haven't; I have nothing to show for the dent in my credit card other than an increased likeness for beer and a truck load of taxi receipts. I feel like I have been around the world as far as relationships go, to a point that being on my own really seems like the best option. Or at least, the easiest, less complicated option.
I'm quite happy living my life this way. I'm struggling however, to decide whether I'm happy with this because I get comfortable and somehow subconsciously make myself believe that I'm happy with it or if that's just it; I'm genuinely happy.
I know that thinking into these things too much won't really give me any insight, just a false sense of direction and a headache. But maybe it's worth writing it down sometimes. Maybe I need to write it down.

Darko

2010-09-22T21:18:00.003+10:00

There is a guy who works at my local Coles named Darko. I'm not sure if that is his real name, but that's certainly what it reads on his name tag. His shifts are always on the same day that I go grocery shopping each week, and I'm not sure if it's the name or just the way that he's always creeping in and out of the aisles, rearranging the already perfectly-stacked baked beans or constantly opening and closing the fridges for no apparent reason, but I always play this little game with him. Now the thing about this game, is that he doesn't know it exists. Or maybe he does, I mean, if anybody was to have creepy super-powers in this world, I'd be Darko. The game works like this. It's very simple, yet effective: Once I make contact with him, I refuse to look away. If he walks, I follow him with my eyes. If he stops, I continue to stare. It really freaks Darko out. He looks away, starts checking expiry dates on the yoghurts, then shoots a glance back at me to see if I'm still staring. Naturally, I am. His goes turns the colour of the tomatoes he's unpacking and he turns away. This goes on for some time, until he disappears behind those great swinging doors (what is behind there, anyway?) and I wait for him to return and resume the game.

One day, I'm sure I'll get a letter with a restraining order notice.

10:20PM

2010-07-17T22:08:00.002+10:00

Lonliness is no friend of mine. However, he tends to hang around me alot. Sometimes, I forget he's there, and sometimes he can't be shaken. Lonliness is no friend of mine.

I think it's pretty amazing, at times like this, when I remind myself that there is somebody out there that I have never even met, who is one day going to make sure I am never lonely again. There is somebody out there who I have never even met, who is going to want to spend the rest of their life with me. There is somebody out there who I have never even met, who is waiting to meet me.

And I think that's pretty exciting.

Junior

2010-07-16T23:56:00.003+10:00

I bought Macaulay Culkin's book "Junior" on Ebay for $1.10. One dollar and ten cents. Obviously, with a deal like that, I couldn't say no. I refused to look at any of the reviews online until I had read the book. I don't normally take reviews to heart anyway, because I mean, I'd prefer to find out for myself. But you can't help it. Once you've heard somebody's opinion, it's seered into your brain forever and interupts your own thoughts. It's like if you read Harry Potter before the movies started coming out - now all you see in your mind's eye when you read Harry Potter is Daniel Radcliffe.

I finished the book tonight (it took me less than 24 hours to finish. I have a broken ankle. What the hell else would I be doing with my time?). I immediately jumped online to read reviews, and I must say, I was shocked with what I had come across. Words such as "incoherent", "meaningless", "pretentious" and "simply terrible" appeared on my screen. I closed the screen faster than the page took to load. I musn't spoil this book with bad reviews.

Culkin advises the reader very early on that he is not a writer. If you're looking for a book with a clear beginning, middle, climax and ending, then you shouldn't read Junior. You will simply be disappointed. This is not a novel. It is not a work of fiction or non-fiction. It is not a book of poems or letters. Nor is it excerpts from drunken ramblings or crazy ideas and scattered thoughts. It is a combination of all of the above, and that is exactly the point. I found it difficult to understand why readers couldn't grasp that. I mean, talk about "pretentious".

I'm not sure if I am being biased because I write in a similar fashion to Culkin, but more than anything, I found the "incoherent"-ness of his passages to be strangely comforting. It reminds me of the way everything really is, not the way an editor wanted it to be. It's raw and it's honest, and it's as close to reality as you're going to get in a publication. A peice of work that has been sugar-coated is far more "meaningless" than this book.

And you know what's "simply terrible"? The inability to look beyond "pretentious", "incoherent", "meaningless" passages and not be able to connect with the book and relay it back to your own personal thoughts.

Happy reading.

A Broken Ankle.

2010-07-04T16:29:00.004+10:00

I think that it's okay to sometimes have down days. I mean, obviously feeling sad and down in the dumps isn't exactly the best feeling in the world, but it's a feeling nonetheless. You wouldn't want this feeling to capture all areas of your life and drag on from sunrise to sunset, sunrise to sunset, sunrise to sunset. But it's okay, every once in a while, to crawl into bed in the middle of the day, close the blinds and watch a crappy movie. Or listen to sad music. Just a day, or a couple of hours even, devoted to reminiscence and thought. To feel not good enough, or like a failure, or left out. It's only when we admit these things to ourselves that we are able to correct it. Embrace sadness when necessary like you would embrace happiness - and learn how to spring back to your feet.

Vinyl Sticker

2010-05-19T11:25:00.003+10:00

I raised a question recently asking "Do you know who you are?"
I know who I am. But explaining it is something that everybody struggles with. You can write out aspects of yourself or your views, opinions, hopes, dreams etc. but does that really EXPLAIN who you are?
Not really.

But as far as I can describe, this is me.

I’m only nineteen but I often feel much older. I don’t like it when people put me down because of my age – I’ve been through a lot in my nineteen years and don’t appreciate people who can’t or won’t see that.
I feel lucky to run out of fingers when I count all the people that I love.
I think that everybody really does know who they are and people who say they don’t are simply in denial. I’m the only person I know who actually knows and admits this. People are always taught to accept people for who they are; learn to accept yourself for who you are, too.
At any given time, if I could be anywhere in the world, it would be drinking beer in the sun somewhere. I really am that easily amused.
I cry in war movies. A lot.
I always manage to stretch my pay right out to an empty bank account by pay day.
Anzac Day and Australia Day make me happier than Christmas.
I often wish I lived in the country. I think I’d like it better there.
I don’t mind being independent but it’s nice to be able to depend on somebody every now and then.
I’ve never tried to quit smoking, and I’m not sure I want to either.
Men don’t look like they used to anymore. They all look like they’re straight out of Kings of Leon or something.
I have a strong hate for the expression “Murphy’s Law!” It makes me cringe.
I like smoking weed, but I’ve seen how it changes people so I never push my own limits.
The smell of bushfires makes me smile. For such a terrible natural disaster, it somehow reminds me that everything is okay.
I didn’t like high school and have no regrets for leaving at sixteen. I think it was the best thing I ever did.
My favourite people in the world are people I have only met once.
I trust everyone unless they give me a reason not to.
I don’t know what I’m going to do when my Dad dies one day. I live in fear that it will happen before we’re ready.
I stopped eating meat when I was sixteen but couldn’t bring myself to give up seafood.
Sometimes I wish I was alongside Sal Paradise in “On The Road”. Travelling around America in the 50’s and eating apple pie.
I sometimes secretly think that people walk all over me because I’m too understanding. I can’t help it if I really do understand and accept other’s decisions.
I live for Mexican food.
I cry sometimes, but I’m strong. Just tell it to me straight.
Sometimes I wish I was a gardener. I think it would be nice to work outside with plants.
Nothing irritates me more than when people speak to me in broken-English. I’m not trying to be racist, but I just really can’t stand it.
I’m the ‘go-to’ person in my social and work life. Whenever somebody has a problem, they tend to come to me for help or advice. And I don’t mind one bit.
I think I could very easily be an alcoholic. It worries me sometimes, but not as much as not being able to drink.
I read the news every morning and regret it straight after. Sometimes it’s best not to know.
Anxiety gets the better of me sometimes. I’m scared of everything.
I love pasta but hate spaghetti. I’m not sure why.
I would put avocado on everything if I could.
I think I like the idea of writing more than I actually like it.
I’d rather keep my mouth shut than argue with somebody. Sometimes the extra stress is just not really worth it.
I don’t think that ANYBODY deserves to die.
I don’t really like NRL very much, but I pretend to because it’s fun to watch.

And finally, I’m very well aware that I am a hypocrite, but so are you.

Four Walls.

2010-05-14T23:34:00.002+10:00

I think it's funny that a house is not necessarily a home.

The concept of 'home' extends beyond four walls and a roof. To be honest, I feel more 'at home' around people that I love than under the roof that I pay good money for. I feel a little empty inside when I realise that I don't feel at home in my own house. I should be so greatful to have a roof over my head.

A home is a place that you feel safe and secure and happy, and it's important to have that. There are places that I can go to get that relief, but it's not mine. It feels like stealing. Pretending. Lying. And it hurts sometimes.

Hit The Wall.

2010-05-07T09:31:00.001+10:00

He stared at his hands for a long time. He was having a hard time trying to explain himself. I couldn’t tell if it was because he knew that what he wanted to say would hurt me or because he really didn’t know what to say.
He jerked his head up, looked me in the eyes and turned away again. Opened his mouth, and choked on his words. Pressed his lips tightly together; he didn’t want me to see him cry. Swore under his breath, and tried again.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he said.
I sat back in my chair and inhaled smoke from my cigarette. I tapped the ash into the ashtray and exhaled.
“It’s okay. It’s not okay, but it’s okay.”
He put his head in his hands and said he was ready to leave. The tightness in my chest was overwhelming. Part of me didn’t want him to ever leave, the other part of me wanted him to get the hell out. I couldn’t believe how much I missed him already. He asked for a hug, and when we put his arms around me, I had never felt so close and so far away from somebody in my life.
I held the door for him, my hand shaking so uncontrollably that I turned it into a wave. He smiled at me with a last-look expression on his face, like he wasn’t planning on seeing me again for a long time. I stood up straight, returned the smile and eventually closed the door.
It wasn’t until then that I, for lack of a better phrase, “hit the wall”.

A Terrible Tuesday in May.

2010-05-06T15:28:00.004+10:00

It ended as quickly as it began. It's difficult to support something that you have no control over. To support something that isn't your decision. To support something even though it hurts.
It's the right thing to do, though. No amount of begging or pleading or apologizing or analyzing or complaining or crying will be able to change somebody elses decision. Not once they've already made it. All you can do is support them. Because you love them, and you care about them. And even when they're making a decision that makes you feel like your heart has been torn in two - you have to support it if you care.
If you care, you have to let them go. You have to let them find happiness. You can't force somebody to feel a certain way about you. And you can't be mad at them for not being able to - it's not their fault. If it's not meant to be, then it's not meant to be. It's as simple as that, to be honest.

No wonder people walk all over me.

I Never Intended It To Be This Way.

2010-04-22T09:26:00.004+10:00

Sometimes you sit back and you look at your life, and you look at how it is in comparison to how it was "supposed" to be.
Growing up, you have subconscious expectations about how your life is going to turn out by a certain age. I mean, I never intended it to be this way.

I like to see it though like if life was supposed to be a certain way, it would have been. It's really as simple as that and you can't put it down to anything else.

All you can really do is appreciate what you do have, not what you "should have" had. And whatever else there is to come.

Oh, the Great Communicator

2010-04-09T13:20:00.002+10:00

Communication.
It can refer to a number of different things, really. What I’m talking about in this instance though is the ability to communicate and discuss when things are not alright. Nobody likes conflict. (Well, that’s untrue. I’ve been in relationships with people who THRIVE on conflict.) But the majority of sane-minded people don’t like conflict. However, that doesn’t mean that you should sweep everything under the rug to avoid it. Nor should you bow your head and hide from it when it’s aimed at you.
There is nothing worse than having to confront somebody about something that you dislike about them, want them to change or something that upsets you. Personally, it makes me feel weak, needy and childish. But simply, it has to be done sometimes.
Think about it like this: Somebody you care about continues to do something that makes you unhappy. They’re never going to know how much you hate it unless you say something. The problem, for lack of a better word, will carry on and keep happening if you don’t communicate to somebody about how it makes you feel. People are not mind-readers, it’s as simple as that.

What irritates me the most however, is when people remain in denial. If somebody is bothered by something that I do, I want them to say something. I don’t want them to sit on it for months and then finally admit after one-too-many drinks that something I have done actually upset them. I mean, EXCUSE ME? You had ample time to bring this up in the past, why didn’t you say anything?
Answer: to AVOID CONFLICT.
But of course! It’s far better to sit back and pretend something isn’t happening than to confront somebody and actually, I don’t know, RESOLVE THE ISSUE.

I really fail to understand how and why certain people go so far out of their way to avoid conflict and not realise that they’re hurting themselves much more while sitting in denial. Open your fucking mouth. It’s like a bandaid. It will hurt, but only for a second.

Write / Wrong.

2010-03-17T16:27:00.002+11:00

I do hope that if there are people out there who read my blogs, that they don’t take what I say too seriously.

When I write, I tend to open up my mind and pour out exactly what I am thinking, and (as close to) the way I am thinking it, at that exact moment in time. My opinion, if you could even call it that, is most likely to change shortly after. Not always, of course, but I have been known to read back over some posts from last year and find myself thinking: What the hell was I talking about.

I think a lot. And when I think too much, it needs somewhere to go obviously. If I don’t write it down, sooner or later, it will come out like word vomit. And it never comes out right, really. Even when I do write it out. I can always explain things so much better to myself in my head than I can verbally, or on paper (or the screen, to be specific).
My thoughts seem boring, trite. And they are trite. I over-think; so I over-describe and over-explain. And over again.

I guess all I’m trying to say is that if you disagree with something I write in my blogs, then I’m probably wrong. But that doesn't necessarily mean you're right.

Fish Guts.

2010-03-17T16:07:00.001+11:00

“All anybody ever wants is a nice person to hang out with until we die. Is that too much to ask?” – Lorelai Gilmore.

The extremes. From watching other people’s lives unfold and from my own personal experiences, I find it hard to understand how you can go from being in someone’s life day in and day out for, quite possibly, years… to hardly ever speaking. It’s two different extremes. More than anything, it’s trying to break yourself from the habit.
For so long, you’ve had this one person that you hold above everyone else that you know. They’re the first person you’d think to call in any situation – good or bad – and they’re the first person who will come running. And when the rug is pulled out from underneath you and you can’t – rephrase: shouldn’t – call them anymore, it’s a difficult thing to get used to.

What they say is a lie. About the fish. There aren’t really that many in the sea. Not that many that are “compatible”, anyway. If you’re happy to settle for just anyone, then sure, grab a line. But if you’re looking for something in particular, then no. It’s not going to prove easy.

And the whole process of getting out there and having to look around for something in particular, while it can be exciting, it’s also kind of depressing and quite often rather disappointing. You don’t mean to fill your head with these expectations, but it’s unavoidable I’ve found. It’s a part of your subconscious that is hard to control; even with an open mind.

How do you know that you’ve come across the right person?
You just know.
But how do you ‘just know’?
I don’t know. You just do.
Isn’t there some kind of sign or something?
Not really. When you know, you know.
I thought I knew last time and look how that turned out.
…Shit.

You see, you can’t know. It’s impossible. I wish I could tell you that it was, but it wasn’t. You really just have to wind yourself back to the one and only thing that you can truly rely on, which is yourself.
What does your gut tell you? And don’t lie to me. You do so know what your gut is telling you.

Blame.

2010-03-17T10:33:00.001+11:00

Nobody ever has sympathy for the parents. The only emotion felt towards parents in any kind of situation where their child has made a mistake – especially big mistakes – is blame. You’ve heard them. “It sure makes you wonder about the parents.”
Does it? You can’t wrap your sixteen year old in cotton wool. You can’t watch him day in and day out. He leaves in the morning and comes home of an evening and you assume that he’s gone to school, but you can’t know for sure. You just have to hope to God that everything you taught him in his early years actually sank in and he’s out there being a respectable and sensible human being.

But you can only teach him so much. Somewhere along the way he has to take your advice and teachings and kind words, and run with it on his own. If he falls out of line or makes a terrible, terrible mistake then you can’t really blame yourself. You ALWAYS could have done more. Of course you could have. You could have spent more time with him or hugged him more or… or something. Of course you could have. But really, chances are that whatever he has done has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him.

If a kid commits a murder the sympathy from the general public is directed towards the victim and the victim’s parents. But hey, what about the kid’s parents? Yesterday they had (what they thought was) a happy, healthy sixteen year old son, and now they realise he’s grown up to be a murderer. So, they sue those parents for being negligent parents. Negligent parents? Not necessarily, but whatever they can do to make sure they get even, they’ll do it.

It’s hard to say what could be going through someone’s mind, or what could actually drive someone to be so mad that they’re willing to spend the rest of their life in jail as long as their victim can never take another breath. It’s something that we, as the general public and community, struggle to understand and probably always will struggle to understand. And I suppose it’s not necessarily something that you want your mind to be able to understand either. You question it, but you don’t really want your mind to go there.

So I suppose that, yes, it does make you wonder about the parents.
It makes you wonder how they’re going to keep dragging themselves out of bed of a morning, opening the blinds and face the day. Because they blame themselves and so does everyone else. And that can’t be easy to carry around everyday. It can’t be easy at all.

It's Kind of Like an Epiphany.

2010-03-02T10:53:00.001+11:00

Fear. The word itself is scary; it’s scary to be scared of something. Nobody really likes to admit being afraid. But I mean, sometimes, you have to. In order to let someone in, or just to let it out. Sometimes to help control the fear, you need to talk about it. Let someone put your mind at ease.
Someone who said to me only a few days ago that he’s not afraid of anything told me last night what he’s scared of. I didn’t make a big deal about it, or even dare to remind him of his “I’m not afraid of anything” speech. He was sharing something with me that I wasn’t sure he was capable of.

We’ve all been hurt before. If we hadn’t, then we wouldn’t be where we are today. Who we are today. Past pains and grief and anger get you from there to here, and ‘here’ is usually a better place to be. But it’s when you’re afraid of being happy and comfortable again in fear of loosing it – that’s when you’ve really been hurt.

I think that a lot of people have a hard time wrapping their minds around the fact that everybody is different. Just because you’ve been kicked to the curb before doesn’t mean that the next person will. It doesn’t mean that they won’t either, but it certainly doesn’t mean that they will. The fear can hold you back from enjoying what is right in front of your face. If you’re living for the future, then you’re missing out on now. The past is gone, and the future isn’t here yet. The present is here now – and if you’re happy right now, you’re doing better for yourself than the vast majority. So what do you have to be afraid of, huh?

Change in the Weather

2010-02-17T09:26:00.003+11:00

"I'll fuck it up, he'll fuck it up, or all of the elements of the universe will come together to fuck it up."

Ah, I should have known. I fucked it up.
That's a lie, I didn't necessarily fuck it up. I just did something silly. I said silly things, and I made accusations. Probably set expectations, too. Why do I feel the need to take something that's totally smooth-sailing and poke it and prod it and try and make it bad? Why the hell do I do that? Why can't I just fucking leave it alone. Stop worrying, stop falling apart, stop being a complete and utter idiot.

Stopping.

Sudden Movements

2010-02-12T11:55:00.001+11:00

I wouldn't ever want to get rid of my memories. Because they're mine and they're real and they happened. The past helps shape the future. Without them, I'm simply a person standing in the middle of time with nothing behind me to hold me up. I wouldn't go back and change anything, no. I don't regret. There are certainly alot of things I would have preferred to have never happened, but no, I don't regret. Sometimes, however, the past is haunting. It's not always in a bad way either, until you find yourself in a situation where being constantly reminded of aspects from your past can get you in trouble. I mean, it can make you feel guilty.
I didn’t used to have a conscious. I really didn’t. If I did something cruel or unfair, or if I was keeping something from someone or lying, it wouldn’t keep me up at night. I refused to let myself feel guilty. But that was a while ago, and I was a child and I believed in things (except for, obviously, the truth.) It’s conniving and immature and evil, I suppose, lying so often. And enjoying it and missing it is worse.
But I mean, the past, it can make you feel guilty. It can have you lying to yourself. Reminders of the past can make you do stupid things, it can make you almost believe you’re back there in the moment again. When you’ve moved on, or when you’re trying to move on, it’s obviously far more efficient to leave the past in the past. To save yourself, I mean. And the people around you.
It’s hard though. It’s a skill, I suppose. To move on. To believe that you are moved on in order to reach the next point in your life, even if it may not be true. The power of the mind, yes?
Yes.

Dispersed.

2010-02-11T11:27:00.001+11:00

When the flag came down, I was at the end of the world, the darkest corner of the ocean, the highest point on Earth, and I stopped. Moving, breathing, hoping, wishing, thinking, caring, worrying. I just stopped. Not purposely, that was just the way it was. And not literally, obviously. But I stopped. Tomorrow was just another day, yesterday was simply the past. I wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t happy and I wasn’t sad. Plateaued. Coming to terms with the fact that the sun will still rise tomorrow whether I want it to or not. Whether I hide or make the best of it, the day will still come.
It’s not an easy thing to admit (I admit), but sometimes you have to be vulnerable in order to let people in. Apparently. And I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be easy. I mean, I know it’s not supposed to be easy. But the funny thing is that it is. Easy, I mean. And if it is, it’s too good to be true right? Does that even exist? Something being too good to be true? I suppose not, though.
The fear just isn’t there. It normally is. Lingering in the back of my mind like it was a couple of weeks ago. But it’s dispersed. I don’t enjoy change. Any kind of change, really. Mood and psychological changes especially, but any change. I’m not scared, like I know I would normally be in the given situation. There could be a million fingers pointing at a million reasons why, but I think I know the truth. I’ll shrug it off because being dependant on people is a recipe for disaster, I’ve come to realise. But simply, it’s because of him.

The Giggler.

2010-02-04T13:43:00.002+11:00

I met someone.
He’s… for lack of an even better word… amazing. I’m not going to bother going into any of the why’s and how’s and when’s and what’s. Not because I don’t like thinking about it or talking about it, because I do, but I’m kind of afraid you know.
You know when you meet someone, and it’s almost as if it’s too good to be true? So all that is in the back of your mind is, maybe it is. Maybe it is too good to be true.
It’s kind you find yourself getting ahead of yourself and the time and the situation, with this, rather blunt, stabbing and uncontrollable worry in the back of your mind like you’re going to fuck it up, or they’re going to fuck it up, or all of the elements of the universe will come together and fuck it up.
And as much as you can’t let your past, or past experiences, effect the way you look at the future, it’s virtually impossible not to, really. Because all you know is what you know already. Obviously.

I don’t believe in faith, as I have certainly mentioned before, so it’s hard to tell myself to just ‘have a little faith’.
I suppose trust can work though. I can trust. I mean… I can try to, at least.

Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters

2010-01-29T09:02:00.000+11:00

It’s a sad day today. It really is. And it’s sad in an unbelievable way that I can’t quite understand myself.
It’s not only because J.D. Salinger died, but it’s because it’s almost as if Holden has died too.
Holden Caulfield was, like, the exact replicate of absolutely everybody in the entire world. He was a hypocritical liar who knew he was a hypocrite but lied about knowing it. He hated phonies and people who conformed, yet he was the biggest phony around. And I think he knew this, but instead of admitting it, he chose to complain and obsess over it. Naturally increasing his phoniness.

We're all like that though, really. We all know who we are, deep down inside. We're never really confused; we're just trying to change. I think everybody has to reach that point in their lives eventually when they can finally accept themselves for who they are. And when they do that, they can begin to accept the people around them. You can bend and alter and sugar-coat anything you want, but it's still there underneath all the crap. You know it's there. And you know that you're doing yourself no good at hiding it, but you continue to pile nonsense on top of the truth. Until, of course, everything is unveiled and you're standing there, naked, alone and scared, for perhaps the first time in your life. It's shocking and it's terrifying, but it's life, really.

And that’s what Holden eventually realised, I think, when he was crossing the street and he felt like he was disappearing. That he was falling into something beyond his control.

I don’t know. I’m rambling now. Rest in Peace, J.D. Salinger.
Rest in Peace, Holden Caulfield.

Well, I Don't Got No Reasons.

2010-01-19T22:07:00.003+11:00

I don't particularly have anything at all of interest to share at the moment.

I've just been spending a lot of time procrastinating about absolutely everything. Drinking too much beer, yet trying to eat surprisingly healthy (not sure about that logic).
I started writing a story the other day and it was pretty much over before it had begun. I tend to do that. With a lot of things, I suppose.
I'm just getting the bus to work, doing my job, coming home and waiting for something to happen.

Nothing is happening. Yet.

A New Leaf (I suppose).

2010-01-06T10:32:00.002+11:00

2010.
I think we put too much pressure on ourselves in a New Year. It’s like we expect that because the year is different, that we should be different. Things should be different. Better, more exciting, less of a hassle. It would be great if this were true. But we always try, anyway.

I didn’t spend New Years the way I had expected. But in the end, I’m happy with the way it turned out. I got to spend time with people that make me happy and I didn’t do anything I regret. I’m not going to say that’s a first, but it’s not very often that I have nights like that lately.

I used New Years this year as an excuse to let it go. The things that were holding me back last year. The things that had me holding onto a string that doesn’t even exist. The things that had me up at 3am hoping for. I mean, I’m wasting my time. I need to learn to let it go. If I’m not getting the answers or results that I want, then it’s not worth it. I put up my fight and I lost, and I accept that. Finally.

I'm leaving denial and desperation in 2009.

Wake Up!

2009-12-29T10:30:00.003+11:00

“It’s always hard when people take advantage of your vulnerability”.
I think people take advantage of me 24 hours a day. I try and be the good person by letting people get away with things and just having a little faith in others, you know? Giving people the benefit of the doubt, not jumping to conclusions. Just letting someone smile or have a good time. Help them forget about the ugliness in the world and the stupidity of others.

But in the end, I still get walked all over. I may be tough skinned and yes, I can take it. But eventually it just gets old and exhausting and everytime, I loose a little more trust in the people around me.

Just because I seem like the kind of person that isn't bothered by these kinds of things doesn't mean I actually am. I don’t particularly like to whine, but it really does hurt, you know? More than you'd possibly care to imagine.

I'm Stronger Than This.

2009-12-22T10:02:00.001+11:00

I mean, I think I'm happy. It's hard to say. I constantly find myself in a state of denial. Well, I mean, I did up until yesterday morning.
Alarm goes off, sun shining through the wooden slats in my blinds and Monday morning rush to work about to begin... and then the crashing reminders of the weekend, the weed, the beer, the sin, and I find myself damn near paralysed in bed, unable to find a single reason to get up and just thinking to myself, "What the hell am I doing?"
It's just not fun anymore. It's not the act itself that bothers me though, it's the reasons why.

In the simpliest terms, it's because human is the only being that knows it's alone. It would be nice to not know. It would be nicer if independence, not company, was enforced. Because that’s really the only reason why we know or understand anything. Because they told us so.

It’s comforting to know that because I’m so young, I really don’t have anything to worry about. I understand that I have plenty of time, the whole world is ahead of me, blah blah blah. But does that really take away how I feel today? It used to be so much easier before, even six months ago, I could always roll with the punches. I didn’t let anything get to me. I didn’t let anyone get to me. I was always able to shrug off anything that was thrown my way and smile my way through anything. But to tell you the truth, it’s getting harder now.

Shit, I hate admitting it.

Nine Twenty-two.

2009-11-26T09:15:00.002+11:00

I think it's kind of funny when people tell me to change.
On a daily basis, I have people who tell me to get my driver's lisence, ask me if I'm ever going to cut my hair, or why don't I wear my hair differently? Why don't I wear more make-up? Why don't I wear more dresses?

I mean Jesus fucking Christ, have I ever told you to change? No.
Learn to adapt.

But I mean, the funniest thing about it, is that I'm like the only person I know that actually likes who they are.

Oh My Friend Lonliness.

2009-11-25T20:44:00.002+11:00

I'm not scared. Not technically. I'm not sure what I am.
This would be the first time I have spent more than ten minutes alone in my new apartment. I can't describe to you how it makes me feel, because it is something that I haven't experienced before. It's not a feeling I'm used to. I decided to put music on, not because the apartment is scary or eerie, but just because music always tends to bring a slight sense of a presence.
I don't really think I have generally been a very independant person before. I mean, I have always had my own opinions, and acted, dressed, spoke, danced and understood everything the way I want. I don't have a problem with having to deal with situations on my own, and I always listen to myself before I listen to others. I prefer to figure things out for myself and not let other people's opinions effect my own. But I mean, when it comes to being around people - I always have been. I grew up with a brother and a sister. My mum was there for a while, but Dad always has been. Now I'm in the deep end, and I'm not going to let myself drown, but I suppose I can find myself struggling at times. I'm not sure I like being on my own sometimes. I think that I'm just the kind of person who needs to be around people, or talking to people, or even electronically communicating with people. Not all the time, no. But more often than not.

I guess it's just like a skill,
or perhaps even something I suppose I'll just have to start getting used to.

Parkville Killed my Friend.

2009-11-20T13:33:00.003+11:00

You were almost imaginary,
I think.

A soccer ball rolled over to my feet,
I looked up and saw you. Two years older than me.
Our adventures were short,
quicker than most;
But the strongest friendship I'll know.
Radio stations from the rooftop,
volume louder than ever.
Walk down the street, further, further,
Can you still hear it as clear as before?
I don't remember tears,
but I knew all your fears.
And I sheilded you the best that I could.
"For Sale" the sign said,
"I'm sorry" you said.
A book full of greif,
A kiss on the cheek,
and two years without a word.

I cried this time,
and I promise that I tried,
But only your chemicals know where you are now.

And You Don't Know The Half of It.

2009-11-20T12:57:00.005+11:00

I felt like I had to get to know you.
And I'd regret now it if I didn't.

I knocked on your door only hours after it had happened;
You hadn't even cried yet.
It quickly became swingsets after dark,
midnight golf games and streetlamps;
"I'll meet you on the corner"
Trading cigarettes in the back of someone's truck,
Somehow we never ran out.
And that night where it all fell apart,
we told him not to be afraid. And he wasn't anymore.
Together we picked up the peices,
and sat in the driveway all night.
You're important to me, he said.
You're important to me, I replied.
And we hugged, and danced at the Centre.

That Was All We Had.

2009-11-20T12:25:00.004+11:00

I remember you.
I think I'm the only one between us two who remembers.

Bus shelter runaways, late night candle light,
Fast food junkies, a smoker in an alleyway.
Quick, we'd say. We don't have much time.
Wear out our souls, duct tape to fix,
Chaos followed me home.
Beer in an empty grand stand,
Scale a fence; break an ankle.
Train tracks to nowhere,
for three days we were lost.
I don't remember how we stayed awake,
but I remember every word you said.
I'd never seen you cry before,
and the music drowned you out.
You made me promise,
I gave you my word,
And I miss you every day.

Three Stories Higher.

2009-11-20T12:08:00.002+11:00

My entire life will change tomorrow.
Everyone keeps asking if I'm excited. I've thought alot about it, and truthfully - not really. I think "scared" is a better way to put it. I mean, everytime I start to feel scared I remind myself to stop being such a baby and just grow up. I'm nineteen years old now, I've been working full-time for almost two years. My family's financial issues have hit the fan and it's time for me to go.
I think that the hardest thing about saying goodbye to my house, besides leaving my family, is because I'm leaving the house where I swear I can still feel my Mum's spirit. The couch where she passed, the kitchen where she cooked, the books that she read. It was over five years ago now, and I have learnt to become content with the whole thing. But the thought of leaving the place where those memories happened - leaving the rooms and items that keep those memories so vivid. That's what scares me.

But it's the right time. You can't always make everybody happy.

My entire life will change tomorrow. I get one last sleep in the house that changed my life last time.

Holography.

2009-11-10T22:05:00.002+11:00

A friend told me today that he doesn't think he will ever be happy again.

It kind of makes me mad when people say things like that. It's usually people who haven't been through too much in their lives - and I'm not putting that down or anything because if they haven't experienced worse, then they simply don't know worse. And there is nothing wrong about that.
But the truth is that these people just don't realise what they have. They're too caught up in this crazy, insane idea of what they think that they want. They're so blinded by trying to reach for something more, something different, something exciting that they look past what they have now. Sometimes what you think you want at the time is not really what you need. And what you need is right in front of you.

I think you really need to be concious of what you have. Otherwise by the time you get back from your adventurous spiral of trying to find something better, you may just find that what you had all along was all you really needed.

2010: Hurry the fuck up.

2009-11-10T13:08:00.002+11:00

I'm sick of 2009.

It's getting me nowhere.

(and life is too short to waste it on sheer hope)

Two Different Corners of My Mind.

2009-10-27T21:45:00.004+11:00

The things I usually find funny, nobody else does.
For example, I love the show Flight of the Conchords. It already has a kind of cult-following because it's very specific kind of humor. Sometimes I find it hard to believe they even have international success, outside of New Zealand and Australia because their humor is very Wellington, which Australians tend to catch onto. But success in the United States and United Kingdom? That's like Colin Lane and Frank Woodley doing stand-up comedy in the Netherlands or something.
What I mean by 'The things I usually find funny, nobody else does' is that I always find myself laughing during scenes of Flight of the Conchords (for example) that everyone else just kind of nods along to. The more witty, genius side of the comedy rather than the obvious jokes.
I'm not one for jokes. I don't find jokes laugh-out-loud funny. If you tell me a joke, I'll probably just smile and say "That's clever" rather than have to hold my sides and bite my tounge to stop myself from laughing up a lung or something like the person telling the joke.

I was just thinking about that. So I thought I'd write it down.
I know that this isn't exactly touching on the kinds of things that I normally write about in this blog, but I don't care. Just like the person that I am, this blog doesn't have a theme, a stereotype or any kind of flow whatsoever. It's just a place where I can gather my thoughts sometimes. Usually read back over on the odd occasion and wish I could delete like several pages of my coming-of-age diaries and journals during my teenage years.
But I don't really believe in tearing out pages or deleting posts. The contents may not bring back happy memories, and may even be embarressing at times. But so is life. You can't erase the past. You can't chop out a memory, or twist or shape them. You can't stop remembering. So I don't try to.

I just went from light-hearted to deep-thoughts in 7 minutes. It's a talent.

I Never Really Thought Myself Much of a Hunter.

2009-10-26T16:38:00.006+11:00

Sometimes I feel kind of lonely. It's strange sometimes on your own. There's nobody to catch you, you know what I mean?
But I mean, sometimes it's better like this. There's nobody to catch you. You learn the hard way. You learn to look after yourself, to grow up. You're free and it's liberating and it's exciting and it makes you feel like anything could happen. It's nerve-racking in an amazing way when you literally have no idea what could happen next. But it's lonely.

This is just how I feel. Today, I mean. Tomorrow might be different. I might be at the bottom of the mud or at the top of a mountain.
But at least I know tomorrow I will be one step closer to whatever it is that I'm looking for in this wide open world. You don't know what that is yet, and I sure as hell don't know what that is yet. But I'm ready to start the chase, today.

Yet Another Failure.

2009-10-16T10:57:00.000+11:00

It’s funny when you meet someone, and at first, you think they’re great. They’re interesting, funny, confident, exciting. You can see yourself with this person. You can imagine yourself going to dinner with this person, or watching movies with this person, talking over coffee with this person. At first, when you meet them, they seem perfect.
Until, of course, you actually go and spend some actual time with the person and find out that you’re trapped in a Japanese restaurant eating raw fish and white wine made from fermented rice with somebody you have absolutely nothing in common with.
Oh the joys of dating.

General Ramblings.

2009-10-07T22:26:00.004+11:00

I couldn't possibly know where to begin today.
I'm solely writing for the sake of writing. I just turned off my television so I could think better. I'm now sitting in my room listening to the low hum of my laptop and my sister singing faintly in the distance. It's 10:27pm, dark and cold outside. I've been meaning to get a jumper for quite some time now, but the motivation isn't there.
It's terrible to think that I need motivation to stand up, walk to my cupboard and get out any old jumper so I don't sit here shivering in front of my open window, isn't it?
I cleaned my room yesterday, which actually gave me a strangely liberating feeling once I was finished. I took most of the posters off my wall and put most of my strange useless objects away in the cupboard. I never realise how many little nick-knacks I've managed to accumulate over my nineteen years. Things people have given me, little figurines from my childhood, burnt out candles from times best left in the past, coins from countries I've never visited, stickers and pamphlets from restaurants and concerts I've never been to or attended. These are the kind of things I've managed to hoard and for some reason, kept.
I can't for the life of me remember where I found some of these things, but I really am the person who collects and keeps things "just in case".
I decided to un-clutter my room at an attempt to un-clutter my life. It's not at all like my life is too cluttered, even. I just felt like some kind of refreshment.
I like the cold sometimes, because it feels much fresher than the heat. I don't like being cold, but I don't mind the cold. I'm not sure how that is supposed to make any sense, either.

I've had the same bed and mattress since I was old enough to be moved out of a cot. I'm not sure if that's comforting or worrying anymore. I think I'm the only person who can sleep in my bed. I think the springs have simultaneously moulded to my body over the years.
I need a new bed.

Speaking of motivation earlier, I have this list in my mind that I have been adding to for quite some time now. It's a "To-Do" list of all these things I need to get done. It's simple things like return DVDs (three or four weeks overdue by this point), return library books (three or four months overdue by this point), get my license (three or four years overdue by this point). I'm not sure why I don't get get out there and do these things so I can relax about them and finally cross them off my imaginary list.
Perhaps I should actually make a list on paper.

On weekends, I never seem to get into bed before 3am. Even if I don't go out, I always manage to stay up past 3am by choice. It's just something about that time where it's dead quiet. Nobody is awake besides me and I walk out onto the street, stand in the middle of the road, even just in front of my house, and just take some time to think.
Standing alone in the street past 3am. Nothing but the sound of possums rustling in the trees or the street light flickering. It would seem like you would be more than insignificant, and even perhaps a little depressing. But I would say it's the only time where I feel like I fit somewhere in this obscene world we have created ourselves.
But you'd think the opposite, really.

We're freaks, the two of us.

2009-10-06T08:40:00.003+11:00

I stumble out of my house, face flushed red from rushing around getting dressed and organized to leave, eyes squinting in the morning sun as I realise I left my sunglasses inside but it's far to late to run back. Especially since the cab driver hasn't stopped beeping his horn since he pulled into the driveway less than a minute ago.
And then by the time I get into the cab, I'm so exhausted that I'm just about ready to get back into bed. And the truth is that I don't really feel like talking this early in the morning, but I always manage to get some 65 year old cab driver who decides that I'm interested in his entire life story.
From experience, I've come to realise that any conversations that involve camping, family reunions or begin with "When I was a lad..." need to be skillfully avoided at all costs.
The thing that I don't understand about it, is that when I'm in a cab and the driver is telling me about the last time he saw his family or how when he was young, women wouldn't be caught dead wearing the clothes that young woman are running around in these days and I really should re-think the length of my shorts too if I want to gain any kind of respect from men, I'm kind of sitting there in the cab just going "Uh huh" and "Oh okay" while staring out the window. If that's not a brush-off or an "I'm not in the mood for talking" then I don't know what is.

Now that I think about it, I've noticed it at work, too. Clients who call up out of the blue with no real problem or enquiry, they just call up to talk about products they have bought and then the conversation kind of starts to slip into the weather and what they did on the weekend and how many children their daughter has.

Do people really just get that lonely that they need to call up a company and talk crap with Customer Service?
Do people really start to loose their minds so much that they can't even tell when someones clearly not interested in a conversation?

Now that's a scary thought.

Revelation at the red light.

2009-10-01T16:15:00.000+10:00

I’ve been thinking a lot over the past couple of days.

And I’ve come to another realisation. It’s not that I don’t know who I am. It’s that I do.

I know exactly who I am. I know who my friends are. I know what I’m doing. I know where I’m going and which roads in life I’m willing to take.
If things don’t exactly turn out the way I want them to, I won’t be upset. I’ll make them better.

It’s scary sometimes to actually be so sure of myself in this aspect of life. My mind is telling me that it’s not normal. No nineteen year old knows who they are. Most nineteen year olds are still soul-searching. Most nineteen year olds would write an entry expressing the complete opposite to what I’m writing.

I know that I’m a hypocrite, and I’ll admit it. I know the difference between right and wrong, and I’ll admit that I don’t listen to myself sometimes.

I’m more than happy with the way everything has panned out so far.

But I’m afraid of not getting to feel this way forever.

Worse Things Happen At Sea.

2009-09-29T00:59:00.002+10:00

My friend sent me something tonight that made me think.

He said:

"You hurt me everytime I see you take a puff of those stupud cigarettes, or when you tell me something that's complete bullshit. You hurt me whenver I look at you and you look away pretending you were never looking at me. It hurts me when you say you're happy and I know you're lying. It hurts me when you say you're okay and you're not."

In many ways, he's right.

I don't know who I am sometimes.

In many ways, I have no doubts about myself. But I'm also not so sure.

I'll Dream Until My Head Weighs 16 tonnes.

2009-09-17T22:50:00.006+10:00

5pm on a Friday afternoon, after the beers have been passed around the office and the weekend is at your fingertips. Step outside into the summer heat, the distant smell of bushfire in the air.

That feeling you get when you realise you're free for the next 63 hours always means that little bit more in the summertime.

Nothing, and I mean nothing makes me happier.

It's Harder to Walk Away.

2009-09-16T10:57:00.001+10:00

I’ve never really felt like I have anything big to look forward to.
Over the past six years, no matter what my ambition or goal they were always interrupted.
Like anyone does, I did grow past those goals and create new ones, only to have them interrupted again by whatever crisis or life event that was thrown my way.
I even went through a stage where I felt like the only thing I had coming for me was disappointment.
It scares me even writing this, because I feel like I’m going to jinx myself or something.
And although I’ve just been ripped away from the most important person in my life, and in the aftermath of that, a change in lifestyle, perhaps the positive is that I am free.
There is nothing holding me back and nothing to stop me from breaking out of my comfort zone for perhaps the first time in my life.

But just like spending time with others to get to know them, you couldn’t possibly know who you are without spending time with yourself.
And I am afraid. Of course, I’m scared to death. I’ve never really been alone before.

Another Shot of Whiskey.

2009-09-10T09:32:00.003+10:00

I'm really scared for him.
It's not even about 'us' anymore, that's not even the issue anymore. I'm worried that he's on some kind of chase for excitement. I mean, I know that he is on the chase for excitement. But knowing him and his personality - that's why it scares me.
He knows the difference between right and wrong, he knows what's good for you and what's bad for you - but that's unlikley to stop him. It's recklessness, not independance.

You can't strike out on your own if you have no drive or direction. You can't make a choice to change your life and move in with drug addicts. You can't decide what you want to be your problem and step away from things that are too hard. You can't choose independance but continue to lean on anyone who will listen. You can't say goodbye to the people you love unless you are never coming back.

And The District Sleeps Alone Tonight

2009-09-01T10:00:00.000+10:00

You know, it’s amazing when you finally decide that you’re blowing things out of proportion and let yourself sit back and enjoy the ride is when you get stabbed in the back and left in the dark.
I’m not going to say I didn’t see it coming. Obviously, I did. It’s funny if you try your hardest to hold on to something, that’s when it puts more effort into getting away. Until it is.
Sometimes they come back. I did. I disappeared for a while. I didn’t know who I was for a while. Eventually I figured it out and made my way back home.And everything was great again.Until he lost his way this time.And I’m finding myself alone again. Temporarily disappearing from the world I know so well.
Change isn’t always a bad thing in the long-run. But sometimes it’s simply not necessary.
Sometimes they come back.
But the question is – will he?

Insecurity

2009-08-05T13:42:00.005+10:00

I don't really know what to do at the moment.

I've kind of reached one of those forks in the road where I have to decide to either put up with things that really hurt and upset me, or to walk away from the most important thing in the world to me.

I know that the right thing to do is to try putting up with these things. Remind myself that I'm loved, and I shouldn't be worried. That he wouldn't do anything to purpously hurt me, but that doesn't mean he's going to do everything by "my rules".

It's just hard to settle down with something, or someone, when you have your own doubts about the situation. I know they're only doubts, not necessarily having anything at all to do with reality, but what can you do?

These things can't be forgotten.

I wasn't always like this, either.
I used to be calm and collected. Happy and relaxed, ready for whatever was to come my way.
Now I just can't help but to be scared of it all.

I don't want to go anywhere. And he doesn't either.
All I need to do now is make myself believe it.

A Trite or Obvious Remark

2009-07-30T11:48:00.001+10:00

It’s funny when you see clichés happen.

I was driving up the road near my house yesterday afternoon, and I saw a couple of ladies standing on the corner of the street. They had their arms folded and they were deep in conversation, pointing over fences and gossiping away.
I just thought it was hilarious to actually see gossiping housewives on the street corner.

It reminded me of a scene in Edward Scissorhands where all the women from the neighbourhood were out in the street discussing Peg’s new guest. Obviously not as exaggerated as that scene, but it made me laugh all the same.

It Really Is Just As Simple

2009-07-28T22:05:00.003+10:00

You know, I think that the secret to happiness is not necessarily using all of your energy and time and effort into finding an alternate world of perfection.
Perfection - God, every inkling of meaning behind that word makes me mad. Nobody really wants perfection. You can't possibly want a world where everything is happy go-lucky, skipping through the park, making love by the river, smiles and laughter full of perfection.
However, at the same time, nobody wants a world of constant greif and sadness, lonliness and abandonment. Of course not.
Everybody experiences love and pain at some point during their lives, but nobody get's to choose when or for how long these feelings will last.
You can't hide from these things, and by God, I wouldn't want to.
It's all these experiences and feelings, good or bad, that help you to form your version of "happiness". You learn to understand your boundries.
You think you know how far life can push you, but you'll be constantly surprised.

Happiness, when it really comes down to it, is being able to stand up and say that everything has gone to shit, but say it with a smile on your face because you know better than to think it's the end.
Happiness is being able to say that one day you'll be dead, but you'll never be dying.
Happiness is when you're finally able to see past all the imperfections.

And I'm still learning.

Smiles, because

2009-07-26T02:00:00.001+10:00

I really wish that I had all the answers, sometimes.

But then other times, reality comes and hits me in the face, and I realise that life would be pretty damn boring if I did.

Five Years

2009-07-23T15:35:00.000+10:00

I feel guilty that I keep forgetting today is the day, five years ago, that changed my life forever.

I suppose, to be exact, at 2am on July 24th was when the walls caved in.

I keep thinking that I'm okay with it. I'm finding it easier to laugh and enjoy life this time round, but I can't escape the feeling it leaves in my chest.
They say that you never really get over it, you just learn to live with it. You get used to it. You're able to look at the good times and smile because they happened, not cry because they're over.

It hurts me more to know that I've actually learnt to live with it.

I wish I could remember her voice.

Monkey and the Questions

2009-07-23T08:56:00.000+10:00

Now that I’m actually happy, I kind of have this feeling like I was happier before.
It’s like the anticipation to becoming happy and getting what I want was better than actually settling down with it.

Because once you have it, then that means that you can also loose it. And perhaps the pain of letting it go early is easier than the pain of watching it slip away right before my eyes.

You see, I have this feeling like karma is out to get me all of the time.
I loved and lost, then I was blessed with a second chance. And now I feel like it’s all a set-up so that I can be knocked down harder than I knocked him.
I just always feel like I’m being taken for granted or I’m in some kind of one sided relationship where I need him and he’s just there because he can be.

And I hate the feeling of knowing that there are more important things. And that he’d rather relax and laugh with his friends and his chemicals in a dark smokey room seven days of the week. And my opinion means nothing, really.

I may be right or wrong, I suppose. I think I’m right.
I wish I were wrong.

What Difference Does It Make?

2009-07-09T13:50:00.000+10:00

Writing is something that I think I just like the idea of.
I’m not too sure.
I get into these mindsets where I really want to write. I think that I have it all together. And I sit down and get myself organized.
I open up the screen, lay my hands on the keyboard and it’s as if everything that was running through my mind earlier; every thought, every idea is gone. Just like that.
I have some serious issues with trying to get the words out of my head and through my fingers. I have pictures and storylines racing around in my head all of the time, but sometimes, I just can’t bring anything to life.
Although, every once in a while, it’s like an explosion.
It’s like every inkling has been squeezed from my imagination and I find myself typing furiously for hours, words spilling out as if they’ve been suppressed for too long, keeping myself going on coffee and cigarettes. And I think that I have it. I think that finally I have broken through and am on my way to create something incredible.
Until, of course, I decide to read back on my work.
The high has disappeared from my system and replaced itself with a feeling of disappointment. Rocks in my stomach. I find myself reading something that reminds me of something else.
I don’t trust my own judgement.

And I Turned Away, Of Course.

2009-07-08T11:47:00.000+10:00

I’d really like to know what’s wrong with me sometimes.I’m not really sure what happened. A few months ago, I found myself entering a phase in my life where I felt extremely carefree and happy. I felt like something had miraculously changed within me shortly after I turned eighteen. It was like I had so much to look forward to, so much I wanted to experience. So much I wanted to learn, so many things I wanted to be able to teach others.
And I guess it didn’t turn out anything like I would have liked.
I mean, I had my chance to experience some incredible things, but also I suppose, things that I never want to experience again. I guess you could say that I made some mistakes, but I really don’t believe in regret.
I continued to enjoy this carefree, exciting life I was leading but only for a short time. I loved the way it made me so happy and invincible, but ignored how lonely and empty it made me. I built up some kind of wall to block out the negative feelings that I probably would have felt if I was in any kind of normal headspace.
If I ever felt like I missed the way things used to be, I would get angry at myself. I wouldn’t dare to let myself feel hurt over the past, present or future. Maybe for fear of the hurt, and maybe because I was being selfish.

Although, as time went forward, things eventually did change.
And I suppose in many ways, things are back the way they used to be before. But again in many other ways, things are not at all like they were before.
I don’t want to regret, nor do I want anything to change. I just wish I had listened then to the voice I refused to pay attention to.

Decipher Reflections from Reality

2009-06-25T11:26:00.000+10:00

I think that we're all hypocrites.
I generally believe that the majority of people hate certain aspects of others not because it hurts them or makes them uncomfortable in any way, but because they see a little of themselves in that person.
There's nothing worse than when you hate something about yourself, and then you notice other people doing it, too. It's almost like you can't escape it.
Nobody wants to see the worst of themselves brought out in the people they love.
But they never seem to want to admit it. Nobody wants to agree and sit back and accept that they have faults or that they're not "normal".
Instead they prefer to hide it and express their deep hate for it to cover it up.

It's like using your mind in a whole different way, by completely convincing yourself to believe your own lie. Once you tell a lie enough times, it's not a lie anymore. Whether it happened or not, it becomes real to you.
It's like training yourself to think differently. To think the opposite of how things truely are.
And then when you're reminded of the truth, or of who you really are, that feeling in the pit of your stomach, it will never go away.
You can't escape reality. Not forever.

Expectations = Disappointments

2009-06-23T10:46:00.000+10:00

One of the hardest things to come by or to understand at all, is when someone just walks out on your life.
I mean, without warning.
I mean, how are you supposed to avoid that?
Especially when they refuse to tell you or to explain why.
And you want to tell them that they mean the world to you and that you still want to know them.
And what have you done and how can you fix this. And wether they really mean it.
But it’s trapped in your throat, pushed to the corner of your mind, it doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter anyway.
So you choke and you nod, for what else can you do? What can you do anyway?
Because you don’t want this.
How could anybody want this.

Realistically

2009-06-10T12:47:00.000+10:00

I was thinking today about the expression "There's always somebody out there who has it worse".

It kind of got me thinking the opposite, though.
I really don't think it's right to hold your life experience or family tragedy higher or consider it to be worse than anybody else's, just the same as I don't think it's right to feel guilty about being sad over something just because you can't get the idea out of your head that someone out there has it worse.

Obviously, there is a fair difference between a family dog dying, and the Father dying, however I think it's more accurate to view it as whatever the experience, tragedy, obstacle or change someone has had to overcome, no matter how big or small it may be, if it is the hardest thing that they have ever had to face, then it is exactly that. It is the hardest thing they have ever had to face.
Although it may seem very small in proportion to your experiences, does not mean that it is not real. Usually, they do not know any worse. And thank God for that, I suppose.

"I spent my entire childhood wishing I was older. Now I'm older and this shit sucks"

2009-05-28T09:13:00.000+10:00

I think it's okay to feel like that,
sometimes.

It may well be worth it.

2009-05-20T13:08:00.000+10:00

Sometimes, I think that my favorite people in the world are the people I will never see again.

There are so many people I have come across in everyday situations, like on the bus or in a queue or in the street, that have just stuck in my mind.

I don’t know these people’s names, where they’re from or where their going. But our limited time spent in conversation has been more than enough to keep them fresh in my memory for years to come.

I remember specifically, about three years ago I met a boy at the bus stop. I think it was raining that day. We had both just missed the bus by minutes so we ended up sitting there together on the bench for about 15-20 minutes waiting for the next one.
We didn’t really talk. We just kind of sat there, about half a meter away from each other quietly smoking our cigarettes. I think at one point we may have introduced ourselves and I definitely recall him asking to borrow my lighter, but other than that, we just smiled at each other occasionally.

Once the bus finally came, he sat down in the seat in front of me. I could see him looking out the window and his eyes flicker in my direction out of the corner of his eye every so often. I really wanted to say something. To reach forward and tap him on the shoulder; start up a conversation. But my arm lay lifeless in my lap, and I kept my mouth shut. I don’t know why. I’m not usually the type that has any problem striking up a conversation, even with somebody I don’t know. I just couldn’t do it this time.

When it came to his stop, he stood up really slowly. I don’t know if it was because I knew he was leaving and I perhaps found myself savoring every second I had left, or if he was purposely taking his time. He turned around to face me and opened his mouth as if he was going to say something.
I waited, looking right into his eyes. The bus came to a halt. He said nothing. I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t believe this! “Just say something!” I remember thinking.
He smiled, as if he’d heard me or something. He then simply winked at me, and stepped off the bus.

Of course, I never saw him again.
I still think about that boy today. I don’t know what it was about him. Just one of those things, I guess.
Sometimes, I wish I’d had got to know him.
But when I really think about it, I’m glad I didn’t.
If I had, I wouldn’t feel the same way about the memory, would I?

Uselessness.

2009-05-18T11:21:00.002+10:00

It started and ended sooner then either of us could have ever imagined.
Like a shooting star, that you think you may have seen,
But really could have been your eyes playing tricks on you, or a satelite, or nothing.
We held our breath and dived into something that we both knew would end.
But we kept repeating "Not yet,
not today".
I took his hand and showed him the reasons I get out of bed in the morning.
And there were phone calls, and sunrises. There was plently of weed and the Catcher in the Rye.
Cigarette after cigarette, we lay on the grass in silence; if only to start today again tomorrow.
But there were no tears. There was no anger, no fear.
We just lied to ourselves and said, "It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay, it's going to be okay, it's going to be okay".

"It's just going to be alright."

:)

And I thought "Oh God, my chance has come at last"

2009-05-14T11:04:00.000+10:00

This morning while I was on the bus to work, I saw perhaps one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.
I can’t really explain why it was beautiful. It just was.

There was this couple, they were probably in their early 70s, crossing the main road.
It was clear by how they were dressed that they were on a morning walk together. As they started to cross the road, they got about a quarter of the way, and the red pedestrian light started flashing to hurry them up. They immediately held hands with one another, and continued to jog across the road and onto the footpath.
They didn’t even look at each other. They just knew what to do and what the other one was thinking.

That kind of got me into this strange headspace about relationships, love, and all things related.
And I suppose I have come to realize that I have no trouble finding someone great, getting to know them, starting something, and even falling in love with them.
It’s just the staying in love that I have the trouble with.

Boredom is a State of Mind

2009-05-13T14:03:00.000+10:00

You know, I don’t have a very interesting life.
I’ve kind of gotten to a point in my life I think where I am starting to notice the repetitiveness.
It’s not at all like I don’t enjoy my life.
Because I do.
I may not be blessed with all of the cliché things that are associated with a “perfect” life, but I certainly have close to everything I need.
But sometimes, it’s the drama that keeps things interesting.
Drama can make or break you.
Either way – you’re never bored.

I’ve known people who have been so insanely bored with their lives, that they have felt the need to create their own drama.
And in doing this, a few of them have actually ended up fucking up their lives completely.
But what is it about boredom that makes people do this?
Is boredom really that bad?
Has Generation Y simply become "The Bored Generation"?
The generation that has seen it all, and has it all, and knows it all?
With one hand texting, the other typing and swapping screens between Facebook, Myspace, Twitter and Dailybooth, whilst on Skype and a DVD playing in the background and only one thing in mind: BOREDOM.

My Generation

2009-05-12T13:13:00.000+10:00

"But that hasn't stopped generation Y bashing becoming a national sport. While sexism, racism and homophobia are frowned upon, it seems it is OK to denigrate 4.5 million Australians because they're young."

- Michael Lallo, The Age: 'Talkin' 'Bout my generalisation (or why we bag Gen Y)'

I keep forgetting about this blog.
I think it's because I have signed up for so many social networking sites, I am having a very hard time trying to keep up with them all.

You see, there is this new show that has just started called Talkin' 'Bout My Generation. It's basicly a demographic showdown. It's a contest between Baby Boomers, Generation X and Generation Y.
During the show, they tend to rip Generation Y'ers apart.
I was born in 1990. An absolutley, no mistake, part of Generation Y. I love Twitter and my mobile phone. I just about go insane when the internet is down and I am highly impatient. But really - what's so bad about that? It's not hurting anyone.
I also give everyone the time of day wether they're male, female, black, white, tall, short, fat skinny, blonde, brunette, gay or lesbian. And a large majority of Generation Y feel the same way. It's believed that Generation Y have the lowest rate of racism and homophobia.

There is nothing at all that pisses me off more than a Generation X who thinks it's okay to pick on and overpower someone from Generation Y simply because they are older.
A Generation Y says, "God, I hate work" and the majorty of Generation X's will respond with something like, "You don't even KNOW what hard work is yet. I'VE been working full time since before you were even THOUGHT OF." Uh, so what. In 30 years time I'll have worked for that long too.

I guess I just kind of see it the same way as when kids grow up and finally start to realise that their parents aren't always right.

Unknowing.

2009-04-21T12:44:00.000+10:00

Sometimes, I miss that feeling you get when you meet someone new or move into a new place, or experience something you have never seen/done before.
It's the kind of thing that you can not create or reproduce.
Similar to when you stop believing in Santa Claus - you try so hard to hold onto the childhood image, and to make yourself believe it again.
But once you know something to be true, you can not recreate the feeling of unknowing. It is impossible to bring yourself to understand why you thought differently before.

The Hours Move To Minues and I'm Seconds Away

2009-03-31T14:25:00.001+11:00

I've been feeling alot different lately.
I'm not quite sure what it is. Because when I really think about it, I have felt the same way for a very long time. For at least five years, I do not feel like I have changed very much. In height and maturity and intellect of course, but the past five years do not feel like five years at all. I suppose when you have a major event in your life, you spend a year or so with it constantly on your mind. And when you have something inhabiting your mind, forcing its way into your every thought, your days seem to drag on. And they don't even feel like days at all. It just feels like consistency.
Then, I suppose, you wake up one day and a year has passed. And the next year rips by you, and the next and the next. Before you know it, you can't even remember how you got to where you are today. You find yourself thinking back on everything you have witnessed, or experienced, or overcome in the past five years, and then it really does start to feel like five years, doesn't it?

Over Dramatics

2009-03-31T12:59:00.000+11:00

You know what tends to happen?
The more sleep I get, the more tired I feel the next day.
I can wake up after 5 hours sleep, down a coffee and feel just fine. However, I wake up after, say, 9 hours sleep, and I would very much like to crawl back into bed.
Why is this.

I was reminded the other day at an 18th of a very funny thing my friend did. For some reason, much like at 21sts, people feel the need to make speaches at 18ths listing all the most embarresing moments of this person's life.
So she was at the cinemas one day and asked for a ticket to some movie, and the lady told her the price. It took my friend a little while to get all of her change together so during the process, the lady at the ticketbox had put her ticket down on the counter. My friend gathered all the money and gave it to the lady and proceeded to walk away. The lady held up the ticket and said, with a sarcastic tone, "You don't want this?" And my friend turns around, smiles and goes, "No, I don't want a receipt, thanks".

Idiot.

The Red in the Sky is Ours

2009-03-30T12:24:00.000+11:00

I'm writing right now to avoid doing the work that I really should be doing.

And I will be doing right after I write this, so I don't really know why I don't just do it now seeing as I will be doing it in a moments time.
But I guess its just like anything, like getting out of bed in the morning. You know you're going to be doing it in two minutes but you'd rather lie there for the next 120 seconds anyway.

I kind of can't believe how fast this year is going already. It's almost April. Where the hell did the beginning of the year go? I remember Christmas and New Years like it was yesterday. You've got to be joking in saying it was four months ago.

I'm just purposely wasting time now.

On the corner of 1st and Amistad

2009-03-13T10:05:00.000+11:00

I really hate it when people ruin songs for me.

For example, you hear a song on the radio and you're thinking "Hey, that song isn't too bad!" and then you hear it again and you're like "Oh, I really like this song!" and then you hear it again and you're like "Okay, enough now". But every time you get into the car and switch on the radio, THERE IT IS AGAIN.
Then, it starts following you around. You go into the shopping centre, and that song is quietly playing in the background somewhere. You catch a glimpse of someones iPod screen on the bus, and they're listening to the song. Your neighbour has a loud party and plays that song over and over again, and even while you're trying to get to sleep, that song loops over in your head.
And something that was once a good song now makes you cringe and quietly leave the room every time it is played.

Sometimes, if I find a song that I really really like, I purposely don't put it on my iPod for fear that it will start to annoy me if I listen to it too often.

This guy at my work ruined the song Psycho Killer by Talking Heads for me. We were having a conversation about post-punk, and Talking Heads came up. I mentioned the song Psycho Killer, and he immediately started singing the song. And lets just say it sounded nothing at all like the original.
So now everytime I walk past his desk, he starts humming the song at me. I've actually had to plan an alternative route to my desk so I don't have to hear that song anymore.

It's a shame, really. I quite liked that Shake It song by Metro Station the first 80 times I heard it.

Thrills, Kills and Sunday Pills.

2009-03-12T21:48:00.000+11:00

You know what kind of movies I really like?
I love those really disturbing, independantly-made films. And I don't mean horror or gore or anything, no thanks.
I mean those movies that are based on real life events, but they're the kind of life events that people would prefer to sweep under the rug.
The kind of movies that remind you of someone you once knew. Or remind you of the kind of person you'd never want to be. The movies that make you cringe and turn away from the screen. The movies that leave you with a spaced-out feeling even after the credits have finished rolling.
These are the kind of movies I like (when I'm in the mood to watch a really screwed up film, that is.)

Ken Park (2002):
Banned in Australia. Directed by Larry Clark. Intertwines the lives of kids and their parents. Has some scenes in it that you'd probably really rather not see, but thats kind of the point.

Kids (1995):
Directed by Larry Clark. Originally to warn teenagers about HIV/AIDS. Harsh reality of teenagers unleashed.

Another Day in Paradise (1998):
Directed by Larry Clark. Two junkie couples go on a robbing spree for drugs and money. Tests their courage, commitments, addictions, strengths and relationships. I always thought I would give this addition of Larry Clark's films a miss, because it didn't seem like my kind of film. I eventually gave in, and regret not watching it sooner.

Gummo (1997):
Directed by Haromine Korine. After-math of a horrific tornado that rips through a small town in Ohio. Some interesting characters, some incredible cinematography. Probably one of the most disturbing films I've ever seen. This one scared the shit out of me.

Mysterious Skin (2004):
Directed by Greg Araki. Two boys knew eachother when they were eight years old. One was sexually abused by his baseball coach, the other wakes up after a four hour blackout with a bleeding nose and no memory of what happened during those four hours. Ten years on, they both want answers. But first they have to find eachother.

My Own Private Idaho (1991):
Directed by Gus Van Sant. Strange friendship between two male hustlers. Life on the street, abandonment, love, addiction, abuse. I watch this movie at least once every three or four weeks.

State's Evidence (2006):
Directed by Benjamin Louis. I really hate this movie. I love it, but I really hate it. Suicide pact between six friends. Twist is, they decide that in the last 24 hours of their lives, they will do everything they had always wanted to do but never had the courage/got around to doing. No limits whatsoever. Some extremely horrific scenes, which actually gave me nightmares. I'm really not sure why this hasn't been banned yet.

2:37 (2006):
Directed by Murali K. Thalluri. Six teenagers. One un-wanted pregnancy. One pressured student. One eating disorder. One outcast. One confident football player. And one drug-addict. When the clock strikes 2:37 one tragedy will unfold and effect each and every one of them.

Anyway. That took me quite a while to write up the little blurbs about each movie, but I did rather enjoy doing it.

Maybe books next time, huh?

Caring Is Creepy

2009-03-11T10:32:00.000+11:00

It really creeps me out when I'm on a bus, and I'm pretty much the only one on the bus, and then some random stranger comes and sits RIGHT NEXT TO ME. And I don't mean they're sitting on a seat thats rather close to mine when theres plenty of room throughout the entire bus, but I mean they come and sit on the seat which is right up against mine.
Like, why?
It's already awkward enough when you're sitting next to some stranger on a crowded bus and everytime the bus turns a corner you accidently touch them with your knee or something and they look at you funny. But when its just you and some stranger hip to hip in an empty bus? Creepy.

A really funny thing happened to me one time when I was on a bus, actually. I was sitting towards the back and this weirdo came and sat about three seats behind me. I was wearing a Sex Pistols: Nevermind The Bollocks shirt, and he obviously saw the writing on the back of the shirt, because he got up from his seat, sat in the one behind me, put his elbows up on the back of the seat I was leaning on and went "Sex Pistols, aye? Sid Vicious he killed that Nancy, he killed her".
Naturally, I turned around with a WTF expression on my face and this man proceded to tell me his ENTIRE life story. Did I ask? No.
I learnt about how he was on his way down to get a kebab because ever since his wife left him and won't let him see his daughter, a kebab on a Saturday morning is the only thing that has kept him sane. "Been doin' it for five years," He said. "Five looong years".
I really don't understand why he kept telling me this, because really, if you were there you would wonder how on earth he could NOT KNOW that I didn't care.
I finally got to my stop, got off the bus and kind of broke into a casual jog to get away from this creep faster, and I look into the bus window, and he's there WAVING AT ME.

Some people, I swear to God.

American Movies and TV shows

2009-03-10T20:06:00.000+11:00

Now, don't get me wrong - I love movies. American movies, Canadian movies, Australian movies, British movies, you name it.
But there are a few things about American movies and tv shows, in particular, that drive me insane.

1.) They never say goodbye on the telephone. It's like, midsentence - "Yeah okay man..." and then they hang up. But nobody seems to question this. They always just hang up aswell. HOW are you supposed to know its the end of a conversation? What if the reception cut out or something? How are you to know for sure?

2.) How people always seem to knock on other people's BEDROOM doors. Not often, especially in teenage movies & tv shows, will someone have to actually get up off their ass, go downstairs and answer the front door to let their friend in. The friend always seems to knock on the bedroom door. Who lets these people in the house?

3.) How if there is ever a scene which involves a skinny girl eating a cheeseburger, she always seems to take the TINIEST bite known to man, and then just holds the cheeseburger for the rest of the scene. You might as well have given her a lettuce leaf, at least it would look more realistic that way.

4.) This one comes up frequently, but it still annoys me - twenty-five year old kids and thirty-five year old parents? Honestly, cast younger actors.

5.) And the last one kind of works for any movie or tv show, and I understand why they do it, because otherwise they'd have to cast about 30 extra people, but why do the main characters of movies always seem to only have four or five friends? In real life, nobody hangs out with just four or five people. In real life, the majority of people have alot of friends. Maybe only a few close friends, but it always seems in movies that the characters only ever have like two friends.

Thats all I've got for now.

Just some things I got thinking about the other night while in the middle of a movie marathon XD

Day In and Day Out

2009-03-10T13:07:00.000+11:00

Does anybody ever get the feeling like it's not even a new day anymore? Like it feels like it just keeps on rolling?
You know, when you get up for work in the morning, work from 8:30-5, get home and it starts to get dark a couple hours later. You sit on the computer, watch some TV, eat dinner and eventually drift off to sleep. You wake up the next morning and do it all over again.
The entire five days of the week just starts to feel like one reeaaalllyyy long day repeating over and over.

But then... something exciting or different happens. And it hits you square in the face, right between the eyes and reminds you why you continue to get out of bed every morning. XD

And Tell Your Boyfriend, If He Says He's Got Beef That I'm a Vegetarian And I Ain't Fuckin' Scared Of Him...

2009-03-09T00:52:00.000+11:00

I just felt like making a post today.
I don't really have alot to say, to be honest.

The weather is very strange these days. I don't quite understand it.
One day its like super hot and sunny and makes me want to go to the beach. And then the next day, its freezing cold and raining and even STORMING. I really wish it would make up its mind.

Okay, I actually sat there staring at the screen, typing something and then thinking "Uh, no, lets not mention that" or "No, that's not funny" or "I'm a complete and utter fool"
So I guess I'll just leave it be with WasteTimeChasingCar's music video for Dont Trust Me by 3Oh!3 because it's excellent XD

"'I just won't sleep,' I decided. There were so many other interesting things to do." Jack Kerouac

2009-03-05T12:32:00.000+11:00

Generally, when it comes to sleep, I am an epic failure.
I have to set myself six alarms in the morning. One for 6:00, 6:15, 6:30, 6:45, 7:00 and finally 7:30. And then, somehow, I still end up falling back to sleep.
I actually don't know what the hell is wrong with me.

This is a scenario that happens every morning:

So I'm lying there asleep and my alarm goes off, and by this time it's already 6:45 and I've slept through the first three alarms. And I'm like "Yesss, still have another 45 minutes until I have to get up" So then I fall back to sleep and I start to have a dream. I swear to God, this happens every morning. So I always end up having a really vivid dream that I don't really want to wake up from. So I don't. I'm asleep, and I can hear my alarm going off, but I somehow block it out because I want to keep having this dream.
And then my dad bursts into my bedroom going "CASSIE, IT's ten past eight!" - Excellent. I start work at 8:30.

I think I've screwed up my sleeping pattern so much over the past year or so. I don't seem to sleep at night on the weekends at all. And then I have long naps sometimes, which aren't too great for your sleeping pattern either (they say a nap should be no longer than 20 minutes).

And when you really think about it, as much as we love sleep, it's a real time waster.
I want to learn to live off less sleep. I want to be able to live comfortably on 4-5 hours sleep a night.
I just think it would be fantastic to learn to feel refreshed after only 4 or 5 hours sleep. Thats a 19 - 20 hour day. Think of how much more you could do and see.

And so, with the above in mind - the training begins...

You know what pisses me off?

2009-03-03T13:06:00.000+11:00

You know in movies when someone is just like, chilling in their room and they've just had a fight with their boyfriend or whatever and they're really sad. And then theres a knock at their BEDROOM door and they're like "Go away, Jason" (for example) and Jason is like "No, please, open the door" and she's like "GO AWAY" and then he leaves.
The entire time, I'm sitting there thinking, "Okay, so they're in a fight... but why is he knocking on her bedroom door? Who the hell let this dude in the house?"

You need to learn to use your noggin.

Thanks and farewell.

Why?

2009-02-18T16:12:00.000+11:00

Now, I'm sure that every single girl, (and some boys, perhaps) have been a victim to this before. And I am talking, of course, of the timely drive by, beeping of the horn, and someone yelling something inappropriate out the window at you.So, this happened to me this morning while I was walking back from the shops.

I had my iPod on so I couldn't exactly hear what he said, but he came past on the opposite side of the road, SLOWED DOWN, yelled something, cracked a creepy smile and winked, then proceded to drive away.What I find funny about this is that he was like, the same age as me or maybe a year or so older, and he wasn't at all unattractive. So why does he feel the need to yell innappropriately out the window at passers by? It's not like he's a desperate sixty year old, he could easily get some if he tried.Like, what does he expect will happen?

Hands up how many guys have done the above, and had the girl flash you or something similar? Yeah. None. It's not exactly flattering.The only reason a girl would respond in this way is if she was very drunk, extremely desperate or dared to.

However, the guy doesn't have to be drunk, desperate or dared to be a pig and yell out the window. He doesn't even have to be with his mates, sometimes it's just one guy alone in the car and he still does it to entertain himself.

You know what I would LOVE to see?I would love to see some guy alone in a car, have him yell something tasteless out the window at a girl, start driving away and have the car break down.Now THAT'S entertainment.