seventeen

i wish i were indifferent, i wish it didn't hurt so much. i wish i was as smart as people seem to think...
some words by Jet got me through a bad spell tonight...chocolate and friends also helped.

"There's a voice in my head, won’t leave me alone, I want you to follow me home"

they say 'don't worry about it, it's in the past' well the past haunts me, taunts me, keeps my up at night and for some weird messed-up reason i have this inability to let it go. i WANT to let it go, more than i can express, but it's like my subconscious won't allow it. i guess whats why we get friends, true friends, that are always there to listen and lend a shoulder to cry on. i usually hold back my tears in front of others, preferring to keep up a tough facade, but afterward i sometimes look back and wish i had let down my guard and just cried until i felt better. tears are healing, i do believe. anyway, here's to those who put up with my weird moods, listen to me moan and bitch about my life and don't slap me for being so pathetic. if i could have one wish right now, it would be to fast-forward to the calm that i hope will come after this whirlwind storm of pressures, expectations and general hard stuff. i also hope my aversion to poetry, which was a result of "one trial learning" (psychology term) that occurred today in a rather harsh blow of an episode is soon dissolved.

i love my best friend, more than he will ever know. although my heart breaks for what i cannot have, my head sings for the sanity he unknowingly restores to my life, because just knowing he cares is enough, and his words and actions are more than i need.

cheers. xx

ps, i found some wonderful words on a wall today... "i can resist anything...except temptation"

ahh, family.

i love how my father has to say 'I'm very serious about that' to reiterate the almost hilariously irritated tone of voice he has. i mean if you’re going to do that, you may as well come out and say ‘no one takes me seriously so i have to go around telling people how serious i am’. His inability to form valid arguments is laughable. and the amount of times he says 'i'm just saying' whilst overriding something someone else is saying. yes, daddy, because you're the only person who is allowed to 'just say' stuff. sorry, but i find it difficult at times to give you that 'little bit of respect' you ask for when you're screaming in my face. and someone who has been sucking face with cancer sticks since age what? 14? yeah, not terribly high up in my good books either.

i apologise for this mini-rant, it does sound rather judgemental i'm sure, but it's just how i feel, and this blog is 'a spillage of overprocessed thought'. on a happier note, spring is well and truly in the air, flowers are in bloom, the sun is shining (or was, it's night now) and it wasn't ridiculously cold today! bring on the warmer weather! bring on oh-so-pretty floral playful prints and lightweight fabric, and cherry blossoms! bring on those super-cute loose printed shorts of which i will buy multiple pairs! as much as i love frost and think it a beautiful creation of nature, i am content to bid winter a cheerful adieu as the sun makes more of a useful appearance in the way of warming me rather than just peeking out from behind the clouds occasionally to mock me on those cruelly teasing sunny but freezing winter days.

as for all those unfortunate souls who suffer from hay fever, don't be sad that it's spring. rather, dose up on zertec or whatever those anti-allergy pills are called and rejoice in warmer days, pretty flowers and the promise that summer is only a few months away...

"You punched the highlights out of her hair! "

the accompanying text reads: "My silly little dancing maths buddy who's still around after i hang a fair bit on her.Ily. x " on http://anotherlittlephotoblog.blogspot.com/ ...it made me smile :)

here's the thing:

back on top of the wheel again, as i've decided to call this ridiculous roller-coaster ride of emotions. today was weird, a little stressful, but i'm feeling wonderful right about now. a trip to the beach is a likely possibility in the near future, and i've decided that just as i'm going to learn how to surf, i will ride the waves of this up mood, down mood thing like a pro, and try to remind myself that it all works out in time, and that i'll feel better the next day. i just have to look for a little bit of awesome in each day, regardless of how melancholy, frustrating, heartbreaking or enraging that day proves to be.
in the immortal words of songstress Kelly Clarkson, "i'll spread my wings and i'll learn how to fly, i'll do what it takes till i touch the sky..."
Adios.

dark chocolate.

just wallowing in self-pity, boredom and the occasional dull ache...looking at the beautiful wonderful lives of others and trying to remember how happy i was just two days ago...
anyway in a total contradiction to my current state of mind, body and soul, i've decided to create a list, because i'm weird like that.
ok here it is:

ALL KINDS OF AWESOME
1. that feeling of enlightenment when you work out where you've seen someone before (applies to movies and real life)
2. that song that describes exactly how you're feeling. i realise this is a bit of a cliche these days, but no apologies. i'm throwing it out there.
3. family gatherings with 90+ people, and that one person you hardly see but you just get along with like a house on fire. (why is 'like a house on fire' a positive simile? i don't understand.)
4. making all your decisions and plans in the shower.
5. that fantastic feeling of waking up from a great sleep.
6. being given a flower by a small child.
7. zumba. enough said.
8. this is going to sound kind of shallow, but oh well. when you go out, and you know you're just looking damn GOOD.
9. going through photos from the night before, and remembering how much fun you had.
10. going through old photos and reminiscing about 'back in the day'
11. that feeling you get when you realise how much you just love your friends.
12. a great instrumental in a song.
13. the way frost on grass on a winter's day catches the light and looks enchanting and uncorrupted.
14. getting lost in an amazing book.
15. riding the elevator in a really tall building.
16. the satisfaction of cooking a great meal, and eating it.
17. the way someone lights up when you make their day.
18. when someone makes your day with a simple action.

"We are Sex Bob-Omb and we are here to make you think about death and get sad and stuff. "

i hope it's true what people say...

Why must I be so reliant on another? If I’m left alone with my thoughts and no-one else I slip into a dark abyss of tears, tantrums, heartbreak and doubts. I attack and am attacked, can’t get back to the happy stage that I find myself dancing across for too brief a moment in time…. Why don’t good things ever last? Is it because we enjoy them too fast? I always race ahead of my heart, imagination will be the death of me one day.

lately, i feel that everything i say, do or write is such a cliche. i'm so empty these days, on autopilot half the time, pretending to care when really i'm miles away.

been wasting time for way too long, can't even be bothered listening to sad, sad songs, i feel dried out (on all kinds of levels), i feel all wrong, why can't things go right for a while instead?i'm whining now, so i'm thinking i should stop, i'll end on someone else's thoughts...

"Pride is a lie...mortal fatigue has humbled his exulting flesh, and all he'd seek in a loved body's gulfs and hollows changes to otherness: he'll never ravish the secret of its grace."

"mortal faitgue"... what a beautiful way to describe how i so often feel these days...
and finally,

"You drop me. i walk on alone."

the way i are.

i think i apologise too much for things that i shouldn't be sorry for...and i think i don't apologise enough for the things i am deeply sorry for. someone once told me off for saying sorry too much...to which i replied "sorry".

i don't want to have to apologise for the way i feel, or who i am. so many people do that, and it's not right. and yet, its so hard to admit when we are really in the wrong. and when we do manage to apologise at the right time, it doesn't come across the way we need it to. it either sounds hollow, shallow, reluctant, cliched, all or none of the above. i hate grovelling, it's such a chore, and i think i do it just to keep the peace rather than continue fighting.

but then it backfires on me because i become a doormat and then i can't win either way. but it's not about winning. oh, the frustration of it all...

now my stomach is begging for sustenance so i must away to the kitchen. sorry, for ending this post so abrubtly.

"Just looking for some answers in a world that answers none of them at all"

a new kind of love.

today was beautiful...

a little girl gave me a flower, she approached me, wide-eyed and sweet as the delightful cupcakes i'd been eating, and handed me a flower, said "this is for you". i smiled, thanked her and put it in my hair. i was reminded of my childhood...
and whilst this memory would usually launch me on a trip into the land of if only, a dark place in which i would think about how much i miss my childhood and want to go back to it, and how growing up is depressing, i was instead content, happy for this little tinkerbell tracksuit-clad angel with her wispy-haired halo in her world of innocent bliss, spending her days picking flowers and bringing little bursts of joy into the lives of those who were once just like her.i looked back on my own, so similar days with fondness, smiled, and faced the sunlit future with that simple but significant gift tucked into my hair. today i look to the future with excitement, yes, more than a little nervousness, and some apprehension about the unknown, but mostly excitement. because in that tiny white flower, i saw my innocent, carefree childhood, and i now know: if that short chapter of my life held so much joy, imagine how much more the future will hold. and maybe one day i will have a little girl of my own who will bring me flowers and say "this is for you."
and yes, i realise this is quite the contrast to my usual, slightly melancholy posts, but the fact
is, i've discovered a new kind of love. i'm in love with life. with my friends, my family, there is just such an abundance of love in my world, what more do i need?

and to end,

"Reality's potential is always exceeding...it is your dreams that steer this trip."

i'm on my way to believing...

i spoke with a good friend last night, amidst stained table cloths and wrapping paper fights.

despite immature jokes, he became a boy, vulnerable, pure confusion, heartbreak, and joy.

tables spun and drinks were poured, i watched the blonde angel as her happyness soared,

i'm an island where fun and laughter did abound, surrounded by friends, but not quite there...

waiting at the bus-stop for the twelve forty-two, living on a prayer, do i have better things to do, than to sit around and wait for childish dreams to come true? should i grow up and learn to pave my own way, unassisted? i asked him perhaps too many questions, but with answers he persisted. and i was reminded of the shattered innocence that is too easy to forget...

my winged heart is learning, day by day, to fly in unexpected directions, to those who most need its affections - no longer for my selfish needs - i'm learning in rivers (sometimes), "how do you feel?" and so i'll hope with my heart that yours will soon heal.

"i could write you a symphony"

Daybreak: the household slept.
I rose, blessed by the sun.
A horny fiend, I crept
out with my father's gun.
Let him dream of a child
obedient, angel-mind-

old no-sayer, robbed of power
by sleep. I knew my prize
who swooped home at this hour
with day-light riddled eyes
to his place on a high beam
in our old stables, to dream

light's useless time away.
I stood, holding my breath,
in urine-scented hay,
master of life and death,
a wisp-haired judge whose law
would punish beak and claw.

My first shot struck. He swayed,
ruined, beating his only
wing, as I watched, afraid
by the fallen gun, a lonely
child who believed death clean
and final, not this obscene

bundle of stuff that dropped,
and dribbled through the loose straw
tangling in bowels, and hopped
blindly closer. I saw
those eyes that did not see
mirror my cruelty

while the wrecked thing that could
not bear the light nor hide
hobbled in its own blood.
My father reached my side,
gave me the fallen gun.
'End what you have begun.'

I fired. The blank eyes shone
once into mine, and slept.
I leaned my head upon
my father's arm, and wept,
owl blind in early sun
for what I had begun..

just, love.

just one more thing before i retire for the night...
i feel the need to declare it from metaphorical rooftops, with alliteration for emphasis:

I LOVE MY MUM!

ok, no alliteration there really, but i guess, she's just so wonderful, she puts up with my crap and still loves me unconditionally, she's really amazing.

love you, Mummy dearest xx

on the brightside, you're roughly six feet tall.

I might spend some time in the land of if only, I’ll stick around until I get lonely, the lost souls that wander these sweetly silent halls remind me of everything I’d never want be to called, so let's shake off this sand of fools and start living as though we could be kings, because everyone else has some love to share and I’d rather not waste these wings...

"you're only as tall as your heart will let you be, and you're only as small as the world will make you seem."

let me buy you a coffee.

sporadically we grow bolder with every sharp intake of breath, and as the snowflakes render us colder, we'll dive down to warmer depths. i saturated a polaroid in tears and rain and sweat, lavished love and laughter in effort to forget all that you etched into my brain with a scapel cutting through my paper-thin skin, i thought i was tough but your words proved me mistaken.

***

if you dare repress my creative impulse, well prepare yourself, a storm is coming just around the corner, it's not too late to declare yourself false. all your shortcomings astound me, your shallow breathing reverberating, empty corridors vibrating with that contemptous sound. i feel it all around but it cannot creep inside me, because you're always one step behind me, two steps forward, one step back. your immaturity is laughable, if i was half as smart as i pretend to be, i'd give you two quick slaps and walk away. a BLARING screen screams broken images, disjointed, but we'll join hands and rejoice in your discomfort, my sweet love. i'll lock you in a birdcage, you'll be my nightingale, until i grow bored of your rage, then i'll fling you to the hail. and the storm i promised from the start will enroch, upon all the subjects you ever broached, i can't be bothered to argue anymore, nevermore.

THIS IS MY INTERPRETATION

velvet pants and suicidal spiders

"we'll change the world", we sang, "we'll change the world".

a "rather good" ten-line poem.

Insomnia
Gazing from the window of my icy tower room,
The wind counts the minutes of the time I have borrowed,
Recoil into the conch of my dark thoughts, I take comfort in the happy gloom,
And contemplate how the hours will be wasted tomorrow.
I pace the floor, fitfully, left, right, left, right,
Striving to drive the unsympathetic list of names from my head,
Onwards I march, enduring till morning, the relentless night.
In my mind, I walk with Graves, hand-in-hand amongst the dead,
Boys, all boys, far too young to join in death’s deceitful dance,
Only God can tell why none were given a second chance.

disclaimer: i myself do not claim that this poem is 'rather good'. that was a dear friend of mine, who thinks it's fun to pinch my rear when we're both drunk.

the innocent die. it happens.

i brush away a lock of hair, we lock our gazes through the air, huddled in a rocking chair, against the whirring wind. i spin around a thousand times, while you recite some nursery rhymes, your voice takes up all the space in my mind, and it goes without saying, we have potential to be more than friends. we left the hall in a blaze of glitter, but then our glory began to flicker, as my knees knocked, children would twitter like irritating birds in a nest. so you traced my lines in indigo, held me up to cure my vertigo, and i ignored their mockingbird stares and sat on the stairs, leaned my head back against your chest.

you drew x's on the back of my hands and i'm infected by the idea of romance, keep wondering what your next move will be, why don't you follow me to the dessert if you're afraid of the sea? paper cranes fly me away to a five-minute day, we hid in corners so we could stay here. i was afraid of what you'd say but your eyes gave you away, they showed more than words could ever convey, so lets lie back and count shooting stars on the pier.

the stars were amazing that night, they epitomized the carefree glow that so rarely ignites your eyes, and i pretended that i was surprised to see you recite apologies in an endless reprise. without a word i placed a single finger to your lips, silenced you with a glance that you later confessed sent your stomach into flips, but if we ever dared to dip beneath the surface of our shallow lies, if we weren't so scared, we'd find some time to break our ties. i shattered my facade some time ago, but it was too cold too soon for you to follow. and so i shed my layers, whispered a prayer but i couldn't cry, not a single salted drop escaped my eye that night, if we were to hit rewind, i bet we'd find some unbidden kisses for frozen cheeks, but for now, let's just enjoy the moment.

gluten free.

"And if we get beaten by this winter,
If we get strangled by regret, just
Let our love of life and tension
Gasp in sweet and stuttered breaths, and
Have them lay us in a basement,
Smash some bottles on the ground, and
Say we never knew the difference
between the feeling and the sound."

How do I even retain such knowledge, perhaps I ought to stay away from here and go to college. You’re a dirty rotten liar, I’m a dirty rotten thief, let’s all just sing pretty tunes about our covetous desires, and admire, close our eyes and go to sleep. In a willow tree, oak tree, sapling, seed, we return to the roots of what we used to be, don’t discriminate the flowers from the weeds, because dandelions are as pretty as a humble bumble bee, I’m rhyming against timing, I should really be in bed, on the verge of becoming an insomniac I feel spacey in the head, so cry me a river, weep me a lake, jump a puddle, now I’m muddled as I repeat myself, FOR GOODNESS SAKE!

someone said to me today that rhyming isn't classy, then they slapped me. it was quite amusing...

you licked your lips and lit a new cigarette, you said you'd cut down to a pack a day, and i smiled at the thought of all the things we would regret if we took the plunge and decided not to shy away from all these hidden feelings, tensions we like to ignore, so they build up deep inside us, and require special attention. i once imagined how i'd kiss you, in the midst of all the sound, we'd be outside in the cold and there'd be no one else around, but then you winked
your baby blues and called me 'baby', sending shivers down my spine, and so i shook off all the nonsense, someone later told me that it wasn't classy to rhyme.

"& when we're dead, let our voices carry on...to find a better song and sing along."

an acknowedgement of sheer tensai

just, one of my favorite FOURTEEN-LINE sonnets ever:
(by the one and only Willy Shakespeare)

"In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee
,Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man,
Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain."

intruding on my interlude.

In rhapsody I hum melodies, whistling has never been my strong point. Burning my tongue over songs oversung, and smudging the ink from writing the wrongs, I skip along a narrow path that leads me astray to my past where I once contemplated the merits of smoking, cigarettes are all wet, and we were sad, but it’s bad to smoke, it makes you choke, I enjoyed the acidity of that conversation, with you in your velvet pants, one day we’ll dance to the joy that divides us indie kids from the irony in the clichéd fashion slaves. I distance myself from the rectangular shelves I refuse to go back to that world of pretend, the fun never ends on the rollercoaster of individuality, just make me a mocha and rock me to sleep.

Stumbling down grey stone steps singing schoolyard songs and feeling inept, I caress my knee, a purple patchwork forming, and now the clouds are creeping in and the atmosphere is warming. I cried last night, you made me weep, when you pushed me off your shoulder where I tried to go to sleep, but that’s okay, because we’re good friends and even though we like to pretend, I know I can count on you when the sun is hiding, because your crushing hugs smell nice and you’re safe to confide in.

The end is near my dear, I whispered loudly in your ear you turned away, while I prayed, down on my knees to a God I’d been neglecting, I hope you’re not protecting yourself from love, to an extent I’ll live my life to my heart’s content, and when you wait in the rain I’ll sing again till you return to me in one piece.

He’s so dashing, he’s quite debonair, and as plates are smashing I travel soundly through the air, I send a letter in my head it details my love for you, and dear oh how I miss those silent moments beneath the blue.

If you have a vendetta, just write me a letter, toss it over the gate and we’ll exacerbate the general hate, I smiled as you screamed, blue-eyed into my face, I cried when you left me, you just vanished with a trace. I didn’t want to know where you’d gone, where you’d be, because I’d rather you loved nobody if you cannot love me, I bit a thousand pillows, feathers flung up everywhere, and then I went down to play hopscotch with the girl with the titian hair.

like a melody in my head

"You still cross my mind from time to time. And I mostly smile. Still so set on finding out where we went wrong and why... So I retrace our every step with an unsure pen, trying to figure out what my head thinks, but my head just ain't what it used to be. And then again, what's the point anyway?"

burning with jealousy, every which way i turn to see, across the room, across the hall, rest my head against the corner of the wall don't fall off your chair read the week seven reading, the week SEVEN READING, just underline it in red and don't forge it in your brain, "i bet if i had to do it all again, i'd feel the same pain", i'd do it again in a heartbeat, fall at your feet, don't hit your head on the car you've gone too far now, lets all be big spoons, i smiled wryly to myself, i hope i see you soon. cry me a river, cry me a lake, if tears drowned kittens would you go to a wake? i want to row across a black and white lake, in your dreams i used a quick unpick to pick you apart at the seams, i ripped a hole in my heart, i wrote your name in stone, started running backwards in circles pricked my finger on a rose, not a thorn, broken petals on the road, i wept whle you crept up, swept me off my feet and tried to carry me home...

*deep breath*

in the rearview mirror i understand your smiles, just a bland facade stretching my brokenness for miles, i felt your arms around my waist and i felt warmer than the sun, but then you left i was bereft, and i watched as she lay crying in the mud. i felt invincible, until i became invisible,
so i talked and walked to keep myself awake, but as i watched your dancing blue eyes i realised my mistake, the light that chased me down the stairs and quickly out of sight, i took flight, because deep down i know that you were right.

"so no matter how we part i hold you sweetly in my head, and if i do not miss a part of you a part of me is dead."

a closet la-dispute fan emerges

just some rather wonderful lyrics to describe how i'd love to feel sometime soonish.
No one to answer to, no one that's gonna argue, no,And since I got the hold off me, I'm living life now that I'm free, yeah,Telling me to get my shit together now I got my shit together, yeah,Now I made it through the weather better days are gonna get betterI'm so sorry that it didn't work out I'm moving on,I'm so sorry but it's over now, the pain is goooone.

Wish i could get my shit together...

I'm putting on my shades to cover up my eyes,I'm jumpin' in my ride, I'm heading out tonight,I'm solo, I'm riding solo, I'm riding solo, I'm riding solo, sooloooo.I'm feeling like a star, you can't stop my shine, I'm loving cloud nine, my head's in the sky.I'm solo, I'm riding solo, I'm riding solo, I'm riding solo, sooloooo.
S
O
L
O
S
O
LO

I THINK I SAW YOU IN MY SLEEP DARLING I THINK I SAW YOU IN MY DREAMS YOU WERE STITCHING UP THE SEAMS ON EVERY BROKEN PROMISE THAT YOUR BODY COULDN'T KEEP, I THINK I SAW YOU IN MY SLEEP!!!

I THINK YOU OUGHT TO STAY AWAY FROM HERE THERE ARE GHOSTS IN THE WALLS AND THEY CRAWL IN YOUR HEAD THROUGH YOUR EAR. oh!

to quote a "literature felon", this guy in my head like my ipod stuck on replay (haha i'm even short - shorty haha oh dear) he's the epitome of hypocrisy but he didn't mean it, no because he's so great. and how i have to hate him for breaking my heart, i should have seen this coming from the start oh my gosh, i'm a child with no reigns to control my own heart, the wings unbeaten, they fly me to unexpected places, empty faces, all failing to fill the lonely spaces in my heart, so i cry, cry, cry, hang my head, don't die, i tried to stay away but no
i had to go and fall hopelessly in love with you.

oh well i guess now i've found out i hope everything is ok on monday ayyyyayyyay.

love you my friends, you know who you are, and teagan you're a lucky girl, he's a good one :)

hope he doesn't run through my mind all day!

the end.

chopsticks and trainrides

just bein' asian, coz i'm that cool. (ha, i wish)

omnomnom.

being skillful.

waka waka, eh eh

“You grow a little, I’ll shrink a little, we’ll meet each other half way.”
I guess it’s safe to say,
I’m falling a little bit in love with you every day...

now for some literary attempts:

Just as my numb thumbs fumble the trigger,
I looked into his eyes, that beige-clad digger,
A jarring revelation: he’s just like me.
Both born under the same ebony sky,
Separated only by churning sea,
And I wondered, would his mother weep?
Would his father say, ‘he did me proud’?
Temporarily disengaged, I watch,
As his wasted blood seeps into the ungrateful ground,
And the metallic call of aberrant birds,
A disrespectful sound,
Is it wrong that I long for a funeral song,
For my brother Abel’s unjust end?
Is it right to continue to fight,
continually murdering friends?

i'd like Jo March's writing cap right about soonish, thanks.