The pardalote of doom is coming to get you...

2011-04-30T14:05:00.000+10:00

River Flows In You - Yiruma.

It's a beautiful song, but not as beautiful as you.

2011-04-30T13:59:00.000+10:00

What is this world I live in?

Everything is coming together. The lines that have always seemed infinitely far apart are coming together in one single plaited strand, the destinies of many are converging to one. Friends from my past are reappearing once again.

The air shimmers with tangible power, with the incredible potential that we possess. Some of us are young, some are old, some are timid, some are brave, some bubbly and idealistic, some jaded and cynical, and we don't all get along. But we're all here now, all committed to the same cause and all with the same burning desire in our hearts.

All the times we spent together are so fraught with meaning. The nights that we stayed up talking, ranting, freaking out, commiserating, wondering, dreaming, praying. The long drives we took, in the day and at night, heading not merely towards a physical location but to another state of mind. The tears we shed and the cheers that shook the roof, the abuse we endured and the vindication we won, it all led up to this.

And in my mind, you all stand before me. I'm almost afraid to look, because the sheer raw power you possess is terrifying. We truly are fearfully and wonderfully made. What will we become? I don't know. But I do know one thing - it will be something wonderful. All we have to do is hold ourselves ready.

2011-02-15T23:07:00.003+11:00

News flash, sweetie. Being 'needy' is part of the human condition. We don't live in bubbles or vacuums, separated from the rest of the world. We are not self-sufficient. Admitting that you need someone does not make you a inferior being.

2010-12-21T02:00:00.001+11:00

Why, oh why, must you be so unutterably gorgeous?

2010-11-27T20:45:00.002+11:00

I need you to make me whole.

2010-11-13T01:42:00.000+11:00

Are we all here? Yes - for once. All tried, trusted and true, because if anyone gets wind of this we will be So. Very. Dead. Low voices, undercurrent of tension, nerves keyed up to breaking point. And speaking of keys, if you mess this up I do not doubt that she will slash you across the face with the one she's got in her hand. Blades flashing in the moonlight, glints of sharpened steel, one for each of us because she has plenty to go round. Her face is inscrutable, impossible to read in the darkness, but the cigarette lighter illuminates her features for a moment before it is extinguished, plunging the world back into oblivion.

Why is she our leader?

Because she's crazy and she has the scars to prove it. Because she's terrifying and we don't dare to cross her. Because she's beautiful and she has us all under her spell, me included. Because she's been wronged and we need to avenge her. Because we love her and would do anything to make her smile.

Pile up the boxes, dump them in the boot any old how because we're in a hurry here. The last thing we need is for the police to show up and attempt to drag legality into the proceedings. What we're doing is far removed from the laws that they seek to enforce, and our quarrel is not with them. The laws we break are older and darker than these, and when we are summoned to plead our case, it is before a far higher court that we must acquit ourselves.

Pile into the car, do up your seatbelts. Don't act so hardcore - just do it. You'll need it with her in the driver's seat. Frantic spinning of wheels, clouds of smoke, then purchase on the concrete and sudden acceleration. Squealing of tyres, burn marks on the bitumen and we're on our way.

Lynx, cigarette smoke, clean t-shirts and burnt rubber. Wind down the windows and feel the fresh air whip past, see the moonlight flood the sky and illuminate the open road, and feel an uncontrollable, savage joy well up inside. We might have to fight our way through hell before the night is over, but for now we're enjoying a little piece of heaven.

2010-11-13T01:09:00.003+11:00

They share joy with the world, dispensing lightheartedness and laughter wherever they go. But they themselves are not truly happy. They share the joy that they know they should feel, but do not. As do we all.

I rejoice in the things I have never seen, miss the people I have never met. I sing songs of a place I have never visited, and write of a home I cannot remember.

When will this exile end?

2010-11-05T15:04:00.004+11:00

"Rise!" quoth the raven. "The hour is late!"

But the sun was warm, and a world of beguiling thoughts swirled in my head. So I paid him no mind.

"Why do you lie here, when destiny is yours to write? Seize the pen, take control!"

But I was lazy. I closed my eyes and fell into slumber.

When I awoke, he was still there.

"Shake off this lethargy before it is too late! Stop wasting precious time!"

I still have time, thought I. There is no rush.

"Why are you allowing these chances to slip through your fingers?"

But I answered him nothing. There is no need. He already knows the answer.

2010-10-14T23:19:00.004+11:00

I wish I could make you better, but I can't. The pain and hurt inside you are too big for me to comprehend, too big for me to stop. Something is consuming you - a swirling black hole, vitriolic, treacherous and deadly. It corrodes everything good, pure and beautiful, it twists truth into lies, it brings corruption to everything it touches.

And the most horrifying thing is this - the black hole isn't just consuming you, it is you. What happened to the person I used to know? Does that person still exist? They say that eyes are the windows to the soul, but I'm too afraid to look into yours for fear that it won't be you I find there, but something else entirely. Something that strikes an icy chill of fear into the very core of my being.

You're like a freak weather pattern, entirely beyond my control - I just have to enjoy the rare moments of sunshine and dodge the lightning when the storm clouds start rolling in. And these days, storm clouds are pretty much the status quo.

You're twisted and broken beyond repair, you're falling into space, and I know that if I reach for you I'll be dragged down as well, into the darkness that's eating you alive.

Your heart's been broken into so many pieces that it's barely recognisable anymore, but even through everything, against astronomical odds, your ability to love has survived. And I pray that you don't lose it, because it's the one thing that's keeping you here, a slender thread that holds you as you dangle over the abyss. If it breaks, you'll be gone forever.

2010-10-04T21:12:00.006+11:00

Why, pray tell, are you being SUCH. AN. IDIOT? This is terribly impatient and intolerant of me, but I find myself wishing you would just get over it. You're incredibly naive, you're reading things into this that just aren't there, you can't stand not being the centre of attention and just being around you is draining.

Then I feel like an insensitive jerk, because you're genuinely upset and I'm hardly making it better by flying off the handle like this. But don't you realise that you're doing this to yourself? Can't you see that you're digging your own grave? You seem to reel helplessly from one disaster to the next, and I'm so tired of watching the catastrophes unfold. Please, just stop.

2010-09-25T20:23:00.004+10:00

As long as I can listen to Sum 41, eat Turkish Delight and hold your hand, life will be worth living. Sum 41, Wheatus, Angels And Airwaves, Blink 182 - any of those bands with repetitive melodies, heavily accented vocalists and slightly annoying discrepancies in tune. Despite the fact that we love to hate them, they communicate something simple and powerful about life and its beauty that no one else can. Life is gritty and dirty, it drives us crazy and it tears us down, but it lifts us up too. Sometimes it gives us a perfect moment, caught out of time - a tiny slice of eternity.

And they each have a song that does it.

Sum 41 - With Me
Angels And Airwaves - A Little's Enough
Blink 182 - All The Small Things
Wheatus - Teenage Dirtbag

Farewell the present, bring on forever.

2010-09-17T22:32:00.002+10:00

The battle lines have been drawn, and now we glare at each other with war paint and weapons at the ready. Perhaps it's not so overt. But the hostility is there, the tension strains at nerves and tempers until something has to break. Jarring, abrasive, anachronous, we wait for the final straw to galvanise us into action.

Do you remember the days when it wasn't like this? When we were friendly and open, knowing nothing and judging nothing? Maybe they only existed for me. And we were never so open at the best of times. Anyway, I wouldn't know - back then I lived in my own world. Who's to say I don't still? We know nothing of each others' hearts now - we only see them break. But you had mine, you really did, and when you left you tore away a piece of it with you. And as the blood drips to the floor, let me tell you that if you can see this, you see me as I am.

We're writing our own funeral dirges, we're orchestrating our own demise. Where will this lead us? But for better or worse, I'm with you - even when I can no longer be by your side, I'll always be on your side. I just don't know whether you still want me there.

For whom the bell tolls indeed. Hemingway or Hetfield? Take your pick.

2010-09-07T21:31:00.006+10:00

This is bad. Very bad. Beyond bad.

What. The Hell. Am. I. Supposed. To. Do. Now.

I have no clue. But this is what I want to do - to find a safe place for you to stay, then to find out exactly who it was that did this to you. Plenty of people know, they're just not saying. And when I find out, I will hunt. Them. Down. Because regardless of what you did, the way they are treating you is totally unacceptable. I will find them, and I will scream bloody murder, fire and brimstone, anything you like, until I get my message across. I will tell them my side of the story, and I will not stop until I can proclaim your vindication.

Apparently you're leading me astray. What. Utter. Rubbish. As it so happens, you helped me a thousand times more than any of them ever did. Contrary to their superficial, spur-of-the-moment opinions, I am not a shy, wide-eyed innocent just waiting to be dominated by someone with a stronger will than mine. I am an adult, I am independent, and I am very, very angry. To suggest that you are leading me away from the most important thing in my life is a staggering untruth - the exact opposite is the case - and to suggest that I am stupid and spineless enough to allow you to do it is an insult to my intelligence. I am not a gutless jellyfish with no willpower, and you are not a threat that I need to protected from. I have no obligation to them, but I fully intend to stick by you.

And you're totally right. They will pay.

2010-08-31T21:18:00.005+10:00

Dear winter, we have less than two hours left together. Why do you have to go? And don't try telling me you'll be back, because you won't. It won't be you I face in a year's time, but a stranger, like you in so many ways but in others completely alien.

I'll miss you. We had some good times, yeah? Everyone's heralding spring, but I have to say I'm torn - it's so easy to lie in your arms and succumb to the cold, to become one with the ice, to let the light fade out of the landscape and to forget the world exists. Spring was always too fast, too eager, too energetic for me - I was never fast enough to catch on to its madcap schemes, and it left me lying bruised and hurt in its wake.

Life is like a library, I think - an endless march past the dusty shelves that catalogue our existence. Look behind you and they stretch off to infinity, look ahead and you see nothing. Always a step into the unknown, always a blank page as yet unwritten, and so often we can't see why we're writing at all. Who's gonna read it? Not us, that's for sure. Usually, all we want to do is shut the book, shove it into the shelf and move on. And given the biased, temporary, easily destructible nature of memory, there's no guarantee that our words will remain - except for the times when we long for their disappearance. Then they stay, horribly permanent. ButI don't want to shut the book on you, and I don't want the gifts that you gave me to become part of the past. Will they?

I can see why immortality is considered a curse. How big can my library become before I lose myself in its labyrinth? Dear winter, if I can't even cope with saying goodbye to you, how will I survive everything life has to throw at me? But I have to move on, have to feel the warmth, have to leave you behind. For if my heart stays frozen, spring's careless touch will shatter it.

2010-08-16T20:18:00.003+10:00

How can I make you understand? How can I get this through to you? How can I make you see that you are entirely missing the point?

You. Can't. Skip. This. There is NO easy way out. You have to live through this, you have to face whatever it throws at you, you have to take whatever it dishes out.

Despite all our in-jokes about the worlds we live in, I sometimes wonder whether yours is largely imaginary.

2010-08-10T22:41:00.001+10:00

I just want to hug you for a very very long time.

Iloveyou.

2010-08-08T23:28:00.003+10:00

You're slipping away from me, and no matter how hard I hold onto you, I can't stop time. Perhaps we're comets, or meteors, our paths crossing but briefly as we continue on our own separate trajectories, our own separate paths, far, far away from each other into the darkness of utmost space. I don't want to leave you, I will fight tooth and nail to keep you, but the horrible certainty pervades my mind that my best efforts will prove futile. You're going somewhere I can't follow, and if I try to, I'll fall. Even if I pour everything I am into this, if I spill all my blood, if I give my last breath, if I exhaust my strength, if I tear my heart asunder, ultimately I will spend myself to no avail.

Your time is running out. One by one, all the avenues are being closed to you, hemming you in with no way to escape. Will I be one of the things to go? I would never abandon you - no matter how much it hurts, I will always be here. As long as you want me, I will be here. But how much longer will you be around to want me?

I don't see a way out of this. I don't think anyone does. We're just counting down the seconds until the end.

2010-08-08T15:19:00.004+10:00

"If I only could make a deal with God
And get him to swap our places..."

...I wouldn't do it. Because I'm not as strong as you. If I had to feel your pain, it would crush me into nothing.

I am in awe of you.

2010-08-08T15:01:00.002+10:00

Despite the fact that our lives are falling into blackness and despair, I'm so relieved. The hurdle is past, the crisis has been averted, the terrible danger that threatened our friendship is gone. If it hadn't...now that may have taken some explaining.

Oh hun, I LOVE you.

But how much time do we have left? More to the point, how much time do you have left? Is your luck finally running out? You've beaten astronomical odds, but how much longer can you pull it off?

2010-08-07T13:19:00.003+10:00

In the face of hurt as great as this, what can I do? If I move, if I speak, if I reach out to touch you, it will come crashing down. All I can do is watch you as you hold together the pieces of your broken heart.

Three behind me, including you, laughing hysterically at some joke. One facing me with a look of horror, eyes filled with fear of the unknown. One sitting on the steps, frantically pressing buttons as she waits for the fatal lines of text to confirm her suspicions.

And I? I'm just standing here.

What was it we learned about in chemistry class today? Chemical reactions have an equilibrium point, a point where they are still reacting back and forth but remain in the same proportions, but if anything else is added, the equilibrium constant will change. Was that the general gist? I wasn't paying terribly close attention.

Perhaps I would have, had I known that it would have such a practical application so soon. Our emotions swing crazily from side to side - tears or hysterical laughter, and sick dread of the unknown, nothing else - but if we stay where we are, we can remain at equilibrium. If we don't move, this can remain unreal, unbelievable, a tableau of pain and fear taken straight from the movie screen. We are merely actors, feigning emotions we do not feel, playing our parts because the script dictates it should be so. Time pitches and yaws from side to side, the rollercoaster ride speeds up at an impossible rate as long seconds stretch out to infinity, and our existence becomes a spiralling streak of impossibility, plummeting and somersaulting towards an inevitable end.

But if I move, the veneer of suspended disbelief will shatter. If I move, if I introduce anything new into the situation, the ground will vanish from underneath our feet and we will be falling, falling into the dark. The ground we stand on is perilously fragile, and if I move, if the distribution of pressure changes by even the slightest increment, it will crumble. The storm looms above us, the abyss yawns at our feet, and if we move we invite destruction. Can it yet be averted?

I think all my hope vanished the moment I saw you cry.

2010-08-01T23:31:00.002+10:00

Everything that's yours is mine, and everything that's mine is yours. Evidently, there are significant implications to this statement. Because if I only say yes, there is literally nothing I cannot do, no one I can't win over, no cause I can't champion to victory. You said it yourself. Changing the face of this nation? Heck dang yes!

Power beyond imagination is within my grasp, and you're only too willing to give it to me. You said so, and I know you don't lie. But how do I say yes?

2010-07-31T16:47:00.002+10:00

I'm scared of you.

I'm scared of what you might say.

I know what you're going to say, but I'm afraid of how I'll react.

I'm afraid I'll regard you differently once I know the truth.

Despite the fact that I already know the truth.

Why?

2010-07-15T21:16:00.003+10:00

We all live in a yellow submarine, yellow submarine, yellow submarine...

Nope, not that one. I need a song that doesn't remind me of anyone. Anyone. Especially you, which is pretty much impossible, given the way you're almost imperceptibly taking control of every corner of my mind. Isn't there a corner I can have to myself, and a song that can take me there?

I need a song. But I don't know if I have any that will suit.

2010-07-13T20:12:00.002+10:00

I didn't realise until now how insanely much I miss you. And I miss how we used to be.

And the stupidest thing? I'll be seeing you soon, you're only a phonecall away and if I mustered the courage to call, you'd probably be happy to hear from me.

Probably. It's the chance that you won't that keeps me silent.

But I miss you. I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you. And I miss how things used to be.

2010-07-13T18:47:00.002+10:00

You say you wouldn't. You say you'd understand. But I can assure you that, in reality, your inviting smile and kind eyes would disappear as soon as the traitorous words left my mouth.

2010-07-12T17:45:00.005+10:00

I could get lost in your eyes.

Lost in the syntax and the double entendres
Lost in the time it took to push you from my mind
I was lost again the moment you turned and smiled at me
Lost in daydreams of the 18+ kind.

...I swear, I did not mean what it sounds like I meant.

2010-07-07T21:36:00.006+10:00

Swathed deep in dreams, what pictures play out before your closed eyes? What are you thinking of? Are you asleep yet? I don't know, and I don't dare ask, because if you move the spell will break.

Magic hovers around you, a palpable haze, beautiful but so infinitely fragile. It glitters on your eyelashes and sparkles in your hair, and a shimmering cloud of it wafts to and fro with the rhythm of your breathing.

You just look so beautiful I want to grab you and hug you tight and never let go. Oh wait, I don't have to - we're already snuggled so close I can feel your breath on my face, and if I stay very, very still, I can hear your heartbeat.

If I speak, I'll cry.

2010-07-06T21:57:00.003+10:00

Darling, you do strange, strange things to me.

2010-07-04T22:13:00.004+10:00

Oh darling, is there anything I can do?

I know there's a lot I want to do. I want to hold you close and listen to your heartbeat, I want to kiss your cheek and wipe your tears away. I want to tell you all my secrets, my fears and my dreams, and I want to hear as many of yours as you're willing to disclose. I want to rub your back and stroke your hair, and I want to reassure you that it's all going to be okay.

But I don't know if it's going to be. The amount of pain and hurt inside you terrifies me, and I don't think I can deal with even a fraction of it. I'm not the one you need.

But you're the one I need.

2010-07-03T14:34:00.002+10:00

Come with me, mistress wordsmith, and I'll weave you a tale of worlds beyond your ken.

Words can hurt, words can heal. If ever anyone was proof of the latter, it's you.

2010-06-29T17:45:00.003+10:00

See interesting link on hotmail page, click it, realise it leads to the Dolly website. Click on more interesting links, wonder why Dolly can't even attempt to seem a little less superficial.

Every item on the list of holiday ideas involve spending large amounts of money and time on stupid, self-centred things. And if your 'shameful confessions' involve nothing worse than having to go to a party with a pimple on your nose, then your life must have been pretty easy. And why are you stressing about said pimple anyway? Because 'my crush will think it's gross.' Why are you wasting your time on a guy who bases his regard for you on what your skin looks like?!

Geez.

2010-06-26T20:36:00.003+10:00

You're beautiful. So. Amazingly. Beautiful.

I caught sight of you by accident, but all the times after that weren't accidents. I hope you didn't notice me staring. You are so vibrant, so vivid, so real, so alive. You're incredible.

2010-06-26T18:15:00.002+10:00

It's strange how a song can reach back into the past and bring it all back in perfect clarity, with a full complement of emotions. This song especially, because it's symbolic of us.

I miss the times we had. I think perhaps you miss them too. Caught momentarily out of the relentless tide of time, we'd sit on the cliffs high above and just watch their ebb and flow, freed for a while from the force that controlled our lives and swept us unceasingly onward. No one knew where we were, and I was happy to keep it that way.

I'd sit with you, sometimes speaking, sometimes not. Never an awkward moment, I loved every second we were together and missed you as soon as you disappeared from view. I miss all the times I would stroke your hair, hold your hand, clasp you in my arms and see you smile, because now those times are few and far between. I want so desperately for them to return, but I don't know if you feel the same way.

The more I think of it, the deeper I sink, drowning in the memories and the warm darkness. And I don't know how to bring myself back.

2010-06-21T20:41:00.000+10:00

Why aren't you here?

2010-06-17T21:48:00.000+10:00

You are, absolutely, without a doubt, the most enigmatic, multi-faceted person I have ever met. Easy enough to categorise on the surface, but underneath you're so deep that I'm afraid of drowning as I vainly attempt to touch the bottom. If there even is a bottom.

And I might as well say it. I'm terrified of you. You scare me, and not for the reasons you might think. Sometimes I get the very strong impression that I should stay as far away from you as I can, if I don't want to end up hurt, disillusioned and a lot less innocent. And I devoutly hope that you will never, ever decide to take a dislike to me. You as an enemy? Horrible thought. In all seriousness, I would rather be on the run from the government than on the run from you.

I'm slowly losing my mind, and you are the reason. You appeal to both sides of my nature, reaching to the very core of both, right down into the secret things that no one else knows, and the fact that you can do that is absolutely mindboggling. I didn't know that was possible, I strongly doubt that it even should be. You're the first one who ever could, and I strongly suspect you will be the last. On one level, you're confirming and reinforcing all the things that I've believed since my earliest days. You're leading me towards the one thing I've always wanted, and for that I owe you an inexpressible debt. But at the same time, you're inviting me to throw it all to the winds.

You inhabit a world of which I have no concept, and when it coincides with mine, sparks fly. I must confess I'm looking forward to that much-touted event with equal parts anticipation and dread - what will happen, and just who and what will survive intact? How much of it deserves to?

The things you do to me are alternately thrilling and unutterably tiresome. The former is due entirely to you, but the latter isn't your fault - just my hamster wheel mind running over and over the same ground ad infinitum. You don't need to tell me I'm obsessive, because I know that. And I also know that it's becoming more and more dangerous.

But every time I see you, all these dire forebodings just seem silly. The fact is, you're nice. More than nice, you're a beautiful, precious gift to humanity. You were the one who helped me when no one else could, even though they all tried so hard, it was you who held me and dried my tears and told me it would all be okay. Even though the amount of hurt and anger inside you scares the hell out of me, it's also what's drawing me closer. Because no matter how futile my efforts are, I want to help you heal and I want to make you better. That's what you did for me, so please let me reciprocate.

But I'm so afraid you'll reject me.

2010-06-16T16:14:00.003+10:00

It's beautiful and heartbreaking, it's moving and tragic, it's uplifting and it takes your breath away.

2010-06-15T19:46:00.001+10:00

Shut up. I'm having far too much fun stalking you.

2010-06-15T19:04:00.000+10:00

I wish I could express how incredibly much I love you.

2010-06-13T15:04:00.004+10:00

Two of you. I used to be friends with both of you, now I don't think I'm friends with either. And in both cases, the same question won't leave me alone - was I just a victim of your actions? Or did I bring everything that happened on myself?

* * * * *

On one of my rare cleaning sprees, I found the necklace you gave me hidden in a drawer and the memories came flooding back. It's been a long, long time, but the emotions are still clear. I don't know if I've forgiven you for what you did, I don't know if I ever will.

And it wasn't even your fault. Well actually, it totally was. But it wasn't. But it was.

JUST SHUT UP.

* * * * *

And you, the one who, in the long run, hurt me more.

And although what you said was completely unsolicited, I can't loose the niggling doubt that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't. Sure, I had no clue what you were going to say. But I did say you could say it. But that was before I knew what you were going to say. But I let you say it. Should I have foreseen it? Was I naive? Should I have guessed?

I don't know if I ever really got over you. And the stupid thing is, there was never a reason for me to need to be. What on earth is there for me to be over? There never was anything between us, nothing like that anyway. There was no expectation, no pressure.

I could never bring myself to tell anyone what you said to me. I'm afraid for me, but I'm more afraid for you - what will they think? How would you react? How would they regard you afterwards? Because if I ever told anyone, things could get out of hand very, very quickly, and the consequences would never leave any of us alone. So much hangs in the balance, and I'm afraid to move for fear of bringing it all down. Fragile emotions, beautiful like spun glass, transparent and glittering in the sunlight, but so easily shattered.

BUT WHY DID YOU DO IT?! Was there a reason you said it to me? Or was I just a random person, an experiment? Given that we hadn't spoken in more than a year, I'm inclined to think that I wasn't. Or was that the reason? I was sufficiently far away that there'd be no fallout should I object? Or perhaps I'm overanalysing this.

I'm not sure whether to be flattered, terrified or disgusted. And my hamster wheel mind just won't let any of this go.

shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-06-11T14:57:00.001+10:00

I feel prettier than I am.

2010-06-08T15:43:00.004+10:00

Oh darling, how I wish I could convey to you how special you are. None of the labels you pin to yourself are true.

You're not boring.
You're not annoying.
You're not a slut, NEVER.
You're not stupid.
No one hates you.

And I don't judge you. I really hope you don't think I do, or that I did. I haven't been in your situation, how could I possibly judge you? I have no right to.

I love you. And I miss you :(

2010-06-07T15:16:00.004+10:00

Oh geez, a girl cooks and cleans and her dad doesn't. SHOCK HORROR!!!!!! It must means she's oppressed and stuck in the nineteenth century!!!!

Hey, if I lived alone with my dad and he couldn't cook, I sure as hell would be on self-appointed dinner duty. Or would you rather I sat back and let him do it, lest I violate my precious liberated principles? Never mind the fact that I'm a pretty competent cook, allowing me to do it would reinforce stereotypical gender roles!

Seriously. Give me a break.

And I've found that housework is actually kinda therapeutic. Put on the loud music and I'm good to go...

2010-06-01T22:40:00.003+10:00

Express yourselves, my friends. And if you start to bleed, I'll hold you and heal you and help you mop it up but I won't ask any questions. Never questions.

2010-05-27T23:45:00.003+10:00

I wanted to write something that would do you justice, then I realised that I had things quite the wrong way round. It's not my job to write - it's my job to read.

You're beautiful and tragic, you're moving and heartbreaking, you're uplifting and inspiring, you're terrifying yet strangely alluring, you turned my world upside down. You're a poem in flesh and blood.

Who wrote the poem? God did. How could I ever hope to write something to rival that? How could my meagre talents ever match the incomparable artistry that went into creating you?

2010-05-06T20:26:00.002+10:00

It's one thing when real life starts to appear in your dreams. That's only to be expected. After all, aren't dreams just our subconscious sorting itself out? But when your dreams begin to encroach on reality, then you know you're in trouble.

Life becomes a permanent state of uncertainty and unease. Will the visions that plagued last night's uneasy slumbers appear as phantoms before me as I go about my day? Or are they in fact already there, seen only in periphery until my roving mind dragged them from a dark corner in my head? But the third alternative is far worse. What did I create, as my sleeping mind roamed through the dark corridors of memory? While my consciousness slumbered peacefully and my mind was unguarded, what was made there in the hours of night? Perhaps it was I who made these things. Perhaps it I who set them free from their prisons in my head and unleashed them upon the waking world.

Sometimes I wonder if my will can act of its own accord. Is there something else inside me, something that links the memories together, creating chains of recollection that are not my own? As I drift in the no-man's-land between waking and sleeping, slowly surrendering consciousness and control, it takes over. And I lie enchanted, listening to the stories it tells me, watching as it paints pictures on the backs of my eyelids. It's the strangest feeling, listening to someone else's thoughts inside my head. Is it really me doing it, or is it someone else?

Everyone has nightmares buried deep inside, locked carefully away where they will never interfere with thoughts of the present. No one wants to be haunted by their past, or their mistakes, or the horrible things that they wanted to forget. But the one comforting thing about these things is that they are only in our heads. If we can forget them, they cease to exist. They are of a shadowy, insubstantial quality, lurking in the backs of our minds but dispelled by the bright, friendly sunshine of day. They have power only in darkness, as we lie in a drugged sleep, carried on by the ebb and flow of the river that carries us from sunset to sunrise. Deep underwater, they whisper to us on the currents and reach out ghostly fingers, seeking to trap us there forever. But terrifying as they are, our horror of them evaporates in the light of day. And we laugh, free for now.

But if these phantoms of the night can find their way into the daytime, what then?

2010-05-05T19:39:00.003+10:00

Her eyes are the darkest of greys, shocking in her pale face. Gazing into their depths is a most unsettling experience. Not everyone’s eyes go deeper than the surface, and most people’s, pretty though they may be, convey little of the person that sees through them. Not so with her. For her eyes are not only windows to the soul, but to another world. A world where everything has been destroyed by the vicious, relentless forces of nature, a world that somehow continues to exist, even though the earth has been shattered and the fabric of time torn apart. No vestige of life remains, only the inexorable driving force that propels it on its hurtling career into nothingness. And even when the last atom has been pulverized into oblivion, that force will remain in her twin black holes, burning right through anyone and everyone that gets in their way.

And as you reel back, gasping, she will just look at you. At you, through you, it’s the same thing. Then she’ll say something matter-of-fact accompanied by a sidelong glance in your direction, half mocking, half curious, and you’ll give a shaky laugh, and you’ll pretend that nothing happened. But her piercing glare penetrated your very soul, don’t pretend that it didn’t. And the girl with the apocalypse in her eyes knows it all too well.

And no, this is not poetic license. This is literally what she is like.

2010-04-15T23:02:00.002+10:00

Deeply sad yet still hopeful, they pin their hopes on you. How could you do this to them? How could you deliberately insult and abuse all they hold dear? You think it's funny, don't you? Perhaps you'd reconsider your thoughtless words if you could see their pain. Then again, I don't think you'd care. Didn't you say they were all idiots, not deserving of sympathy or respect? Never mind that they were the ones who fought so hard for your sake.

Don't blame me if I find it hard to talk to you. Why would I want to, when in the back of my mind I suspect that you would treat me the same way?

2010-04-12T18:12:00.001+10:00

It's a beautiful lie.

2010-04-12T14:22:00.003+10:00

And then it hit me, so hard that my eyes flew open and yanked me suddenly from my half-asleep state. She never takes it off. She never takes it off. Left or right? Well, what did you expect?

Now all I need is for you to vindicate my theory. I just hope I can survive it with my heart intact. You told me I'd cry, but I doubt that I will. I never do when I'm supposed to. But if it's any consolation, I've been crying over you in my heart for a long, long time.

2010-04-11T22:10:00.003+10:00

You hear that? It's the sound of my heart breaking. Every time I see you, it rips a little further.

2010-04-11T21:32:00.003+10:00

I wish I could get through to you. I wish I could show you how amazingly beautiful you are. I wish I could show you what I really mean, because what you think I'm on about is diametrically opposed to what I actually stand for.

It doesn't help that they're against me, constantly telling you not to listen to what I have to say. Is it such a hard concept to grasp, that maybe this is my world and I want to share it with you? Because it's the highest compliment, the greatest gift, the most beautiful mark of respect I could ever give to anyone, and I want to give it to you. To many, yes, but especially to you. Which is why it kills me that they see it as simply something worthless and devoid of meaning, something that impairs my judgement instead of aiding it, something that drags me down instead of lifting me up.

I feel like I'm running in circles, hitting my head against a brick wall. How many times have I had this argument with myself?

2010-04-09T23:59:00.003+10:00

I want you to talk to me. I want to sit with you for hours and have you all to myself. I want to hear all your secrets, and I want to tell you all mine.

2010-04-08T22:46:00.003+10:00

I really screwed it up, didn't I? Just a few words set me up for more than four years of misery.

I miss you. I miss the past. I miss what could have been.

I ' m s o s o r r y g u y s b u t i t ' s f a r f a r t o o l a t e f o r m e n o w . . .

2010-04-08T21:54:00.005+10:00

There's an endless, relentless rhythm pushing us all on. Everything echoes, everything repeats, and the footsteps crashing behind us are growing louder and louder as we run down this tunnel, desperately trying to get out. The abyss yawns at our heels, and we can think of nothing but escaping it.

So we can never stop running. We run until we have no strength left, we run with tears pouring down our faces, and with eyes that can no longer see we just keep going, stumbling on down the path that's too dark to follow anymore. Sometimes one of us falls behind, but we can't stop for them, we can't even pay our last respects as the darkness swallows them, because to stop is to admit defeat. We don't know if we'll ever see them again - we don't even know if we'll ever find ourselves again. And with hearts weighed down more and more by grief, we just keep running.

But even though it all means so little down here, can I hold your hand as we flee through the unending dark? Because when I was trapped in the dark and couldn't find my way out, it was you who held me and comforted me and showed me how to be free. Don't palm me off with the 'I'm just as screwed up as you' spiel, because that's not the point. In my experience, being screwed up never stopped anyone from being beautiful. Least of all you.

2010-04-06T22:37:00.004+10:00

It's raining.

washing away the dust of the day
watering my plants so I won't have to in the morning
rinsing the gravel off the street
spangling every individual leaf with a myriad of sparkling dewdrops
reflecting the moon as it drifts overhead
flowing down the gutters in a flood of glittering silver

It's raining.

2010-03-30T19:57:00.003+11:00

You know perfectly well that I can't refuse you anything, and you're shamelessly using it to your advantage. I know you are, and you know that I know. So why does it continue? Because for some reason, I'm letting you do it.

But please remember, curiosity killed the cat. And if you hold off much longer, it'll be the death of me too.

2010-03-20T21:44:00.003+11:00

Take a trip into the past with me. Come see all the choices I made - so freely and easily then, but now set in stone and part of the course of history. Come see our immobile faces, our frozen laughter, our words broken off mid-syllable. I remember the sunshine was bright back then, but everything's covered in dust now, dust I can't brush off. Why did I bring you here? Because I don't want you to forget what we went through. I don't want you to forget the things we said to each other, the hugs we shared, the joy and the laughter. Yet also the sadness and pain - you had more than your fair share, and to see the events unfold hurt me too. Do you even remember now? It was one of the biggest years of our lives. We both changed irrevocably, for better or worse I can't yet say.

We are the sum of our experiences. Tragic, but true. But how true is it, if we don't remember everything? Am I the same person I was yesterday? Old memories fade, oh so slowly, to make room for new ones, but over time the change can be drastic. Those who cannot learn from the past are destined to repeat it - is that true for us as well? Trapped in an endless cycle, doomed to repeat our mistakes until finally we make one too many. You were the biggest person in my life back then, and I think perhaps I was special to you too. Where are we now?

Memory lane is a scary place to visit alone. Will you walk down it with me? Not a sun-dappled, nostalgic stroll, but a vision from a nightmare. The ghosts of past errors are ever ready to haunt without mercy, opening old wounds and digging up memories long forgotten. Our fun-filled days are lit with an eerie glow now, our smiles fixed and unnatural. The healthy glow of then is replaced with an unearthly pallor, because just as the pyramids and temples of bygone ages are in the past, so too are the times we shared. Perhaps it is not always so, but today - or is it yesterday? - we have no more right to be here than those who plunder the treasure houses of the empires.

Sealed in the past, we cannot drag this back to the present. But that's not to say we didn't try. We read the inscription over the doorway - cursed be those who violate this place. But we were undeterred. A rush of cold air breathed in our faces as we prised open the door, but we entered anyway. And our lives flashed before our eyes. But the lighting was wrong, and the sound was distorted - we caught glimpses of our faces, twisted and unnatural in the lurid light, and snatches of laughter that echoed mockingly on the chamber walls.

And we were seized with an unutterable horror, in the presence of something far beyond our control or comprehension. Why? Because back then we were complete, lacking nothing. But now as we look back, shaped by the knowledge and weight of years, our half-formed selves are horrible to see. Parodies of our present, missing pieces, incomplete - we fled. We hate to think that we were once like that, we fear what we have become.

And when we look at each other now in the sane light of day, far from the apparitions we summoned, a momentary vision of the horror we witnessed flashes through both our minds. Perhaps that's why it seems we've grown apart. A living reminder of a dead self - that's all we are to each other now.

2010-03-15T17:40:00.004+11:00

I get the very strong impression that I should be afraid of you. But the things that others fear are the ones that draw me closer.

Like a moth enchanted by the candle flame, basking in your warmth until you incinerate me.

How could I fear you, when you're so sweet and loving? Yet how could I not, when the things you say sometimes terrify me?

Do I advance at my own peril?

Sometimes I think that I understand you, then a glimpse of your dark side reveals otherwise. Will I be able to shine some light on your darkness, or will I be engulfed instead?

The amount of pain inside you terrifies me. Perhaps because I know it has the power to snatch my fragile existence and turn it upside down.

I know I won't be the same when you're done with me, for better or for worse I can't say. But the amount of change you have wrought in such a short time is unbelievable.

Dude, I love you. But I hope that's enough.

2010-03-15T17:26:00.004+11:00

The dice are loaded against me, the odds are stacked in their favour. How is it that one little word suddenly transforms me from a 'me' into a 'them'? From a friend into an enemy? From one of us into one of the others?

We have to respect others, I'm told. But it's okay if no one respects me.

We must forgive others. But if I slip up, it's okay to cast me out.

No one's perfect. Then why do you expect me to be?

We have to tolerate each others' differences. But it's not okay for me to break the mold, because my differences don't deserve to be tolerated.

Everyone's opinions deserve to be heard. Unless they're mine, that is.

When others speak their minds, that's freedom of speech. But when I speak mine, I'm told to keep my views to myself. Because with my opinions, I don't deserve to be free.

In a world where we're dared to be different, I'm told to shut up and stay in line.

In a world where it's cool to be radical, I'm sternly told that I'm not conventional enough.

If I sit on the sidelines, people yell at me for not participating.

If I make some noise, I'm instantly shouted down.

I'm told not to discriminate by people who hate me purely for what I am.

2010-03-15T16:59:00.004+11:00

There's something inside you, outside you, all around you. It's eating you from within, and I can't stand to watch, yet what choice do I have? I've seen you go from open and charming to closed and cynical, and the tragedy is that everyone seems to like you better this way. Am I the only exception? The happiness we felt together is gone, because I can detect no trace of it within you now. I shared with you the things that made me happy, and it never occurred to me that perhaps they didn't make you feel the same way. Not for the first time, I curse the fact that you're so damned paradoxical - why is it the things that fill you with joy are also the ones that drag you down?

I'll never forget the things you confided in me - they are some of my most precious memories. But were you lying to me? Or have you changed your mind? I don't know which is more painful. I can barely stand to look at you now, despite the fact that I love you so much - the sight of you just tears me apart. Partly because I'm insanely jealous of you - your looks, your intelligence, your talent- just everything. Partly because I'm afraid that you're pretending - that you find me boring and obnoxious, and just can't be bothered telling me so. You as good as said it - but was it me you were referring to? Do you really value me as a friend, or do you just like having me around for some reason, to take advantage of when you can? I don't believe that, but sometimes I can't help wondering. And partly because I don't know if you can stand the sight of me either.

I don't know when it happened, but there's a barrier between us that I can't overcome. What's it made of? Fear? Ignorance? Hatred? I don't know. We call each other friend, but I don't know how much you mean it. I know I do - I love you, and I don't judge you, whatever you may think to the contrary. But I have a depressing suspicion that you view me as rigid and judgemental - is that why you don't open up to me anymore? How can I show you that I love you for you, that I respect you and look up to you and love being around you?

I don't think I can. Because people have told me time and time again, through their actions and their attitudes, that's being me is not okay. Being you is alright, I'm told, and I have to respect you for it, but apparently you don't have to respect me for being me. Because somehow my beliefs don't count. It's unfair to you, and it's unfair to me, but it's so deeply ingrained that I think you've subconsciously taken it on board. That people like me can't be trusted. That if you know what's good for you, you won't listen.

But how much longer can I watch you slowly self-destruct? Oh darling, I know what you want, I know what it is you're missing, but you don't believe me, and I lack the skills to tell you.

This is our tragedy.

2010-03-12T15:06:00.003+11:00

It's my year 12 formal tonight. I'm supposed to be painting my nails, but have come to the realisation that instead of doing that and other girly, frivolous things, I am obsessively reading xkcd and demonstrating to my mum how Möbius strips work. And here I am blogging about it, getting purple nailpolish all over my keyboard.

What does that say about me?

2010-03-07T13:03:00.004+11:00

It is most frustrating when people have the idea firmly ingrained in their heads that everything has to have a reason. Whenever I'm on the computer, the question's always, "What are you working on?" Never just, "What are you doing?" No, I'm always supposed to be working on something. Doing stuff for fun doesn't cut it, apparently.

And even when it's the most innocent thing, e.g., sitting outside on the balcony at night to watch the stars, everyone has to know why. "But why are you spending so much time out here just doing nothing? You should be studying!!!!"

Erk.

2010-02-10T02:24:00.000+11:00

Even though it hurt you to be left out again, I'm almost glad. Because even though the others are beautiful, I could cope when they all went away. If you had gone away too, it would have killed me.

Because you are beautiful.
Because I've never met anyone like you before.
Because every time I see you I can't stop smiling.
Because the thought of seeing you makes me so insanely happy.
Because your mere existence makes me feel better about who I am.

Because even though everyone tried their best, and even though they were all so kind, none of them touched my heart like you did. When I was alone, feeling as though I had been left behind forever and that the one I loved most had found me unworthy, you held me and dried my tears and told me that it was alright. No, more than alright. You told me that it was wonderful. And you were right, it was.

And then you sang, soft and warm and smooth and sweet. And I listened, and for a while there was no one else in my world but you. And I noticed many things. Did anyone ever tell you what gorgeous eyes you have, soft and dark and liquid in the low light? Or what a beautiful silhouette you cut, framed by a luminous halo in the half-dark? Did you know that you give amazing hugs? Or that you are a beautiful, precious, amazing gift to humanity? That you have flipped my world upside down in the space of a few months, turned it inside out and completely redefined it? And that it was never better?

2010-02-09T23:13:00.005+11:00

She's overflowing with emotions, some good, some bad, some terrifying. Everywhere she goes, they just spill out, touching everyone who sees her. They remain long after she's gone, like patches of rainbow-tinted oil on the ground in the carpark - invisible until the light hits them.

It's funny, because there are many who would describe her as one of the most unemotional people they know. Or don't know, more accurately. Quiet doesn't equal shy, nice doesn't equal safe. Just because you've never heard her swear doesn't mean she never gets angry. She has concluded that, although annoying, the general aura of shy innocence she seems to convey is usually to her advantage. And she always gets a kick out of people's faces upon discovering her taste in music - oddly enough, rock, punk and heavy metal were never quite what they had in mind.

2010-02-09T22:47:00.000+11:00

She brushed off the faint sheen of stardust and lifted the lid.

2009-11-09T21:54:00.003+11:00

I’ll paint you a picture, but I won’t be in it. I’m never in the photo, because I’m always the one behind the camera. Pose, everyone, smile, wave, make sure you look nice because this one’s going straight to Facebook.

I don’t participate in history, I merely watch it happen. I remember everything, without being remembered once. I exert my silent influence, I shape all events to my will – but hey, don’t mind me. I’m just a blank canvas, my memory there to be written on. After all, it’s not like the photographer could choose her own focus or anything. It’s not like the artist could depict the unfolding events in her own light. Nope, I’m just a harmless bystander...

Perform your lives for me, let your dramas take place. I’ll be all the audience you need. The world’s a stage, and we are all performers. Except for me, I’m not important. I only write the script. Oh no, really, no thanks is necessary. It’s only a tiny role, superfluous, really. I’ve never been one for acting, I lack dramatic flair, so they made me a job so I wouldn’t feel too left out. Please, no sympathy. I’m okay, truly.

Give me the pen, I’ll write your destiny.

Mindlessly you take the pages, reading them word for word. Dance and sing your way through with calculated emotion, pause here for canned laughter, plan your spontaneity, jump through this hoop, bend over backwards. Don’t bother about photos, I’ll take plenty. Don’t bother writing it down, because I already have. Keep no record of your thoughts, don’t press save before you exit.

I’ll just watch, content to stay behind the scenes. Really, I’m not ambitious, I’ll take whatever little job comes my way. The show must go on, and I’m content just to watch. But you know what? Some nights, as I peep out from behind the curtain and watch the drama unfold, I get the strangest feeling. A self-satisfied warm glow inside, a thrill of superiority. Almost as if I was in control of the whole thing.

Do the puppets know that someone’s pulling their strings?

2009-10-28T17:55:00.003+11:00

Do you ever feel inclined to truly despise the internet?

It preserves our stupidity far better than any written page
Far better than any memory
Why, oh why, was I ever allowed near a computer?!
I cringe now to see the things I wrote.
Things that would be long forgotten had they merely been spoken
But, because of this accursed medium, they are rendered indestructible.
Those stupid comments, those ridiculous blog entries, the incredibly ignorant things I said
Are lurking out there still, waiting for someone who wants to dish dirt on me.
And my idiotic thirteen-year-old self will be resurrected.
A four-year-old journal would be long lost by now
But a four-year-old blog entry is as accessible as the day it was typed.

How many times have we been told this?
"Once you put something on the internet, it's not private anymore."
Too bad, then, that our opinions change.
The things you are proud to profess today
Will humiliate you tomorrow.
Those are the rare occasions when you wish your parents had been a whole lot stricter with their censorship.
Because if they had, maybe I wouldn't have written those stupid, ignorant, embarrassing things.
To the people I offended, to the people I insulted, I'm sorry. I really am.
But that doesn't mean much when the flame wars begin.

But why do I speak in the past tense?
I'm still blogging, aren't I?
Facebooking, Twittering, Livejournaling, deviantARTing?
And in a few years time, who knows what will come back to haunt me?
Maybe I should be kept away from the internet for my own good.
But as if that would work.
After all, I was playing computer games before I could spell my own name.
With an obsession like that, giving it up is a whole lot more easily said than done.

2009-10-17T22:07:00.003+11:00

Welcome to the flipside.

No one's normal here. We won't bother trying to prove it - it's all around you. It's seeping into your pores, you're breathing it deep into your lungs, it's numbing your senses, it's blurring the edges of your vision, it's distorting your perceptions of reality. But whose reality?

We're not angry nonconformists, trying to prove how separate from mainstream society we are. We're far, far beyond that. We have no need to flash our freak status in your scandalised face. If you truly knew us, you'd be craving some mundane normality long before you were through.

Dreamers, you say scornfully, foolish idealists, trying to hide your panic as your world shifts and changes before your disbelieving eyes. What are dreams, though and what is reality? What is good, and what is evil? What is darkness, and what is light? You see the world as a solid, concrete construct, static, unchanging, immovable. We see it as a balloon, a bubble, a cloud, a daydream. It can be reversed, it can be flipped inside out, it can be exploded into smithereens and put back together. It can dissolve into fragments, only to reform again.

But what's the point, you ask, the focus? Well, here we don't focus because we're partial to artistic blur. Why look for a point? It's probably a sharp point, and that sounds painful. I'm afraid that concepts like 'objectivity' and 'reality' don't quite apply here. Our world isn't the opposite of yours, and it's not the difference that frightens you. It's the similarity, the ease with which your world could become this one. It's just a subtle paradigm shift, a slight change in the lighting, a small adjustment here, a tiny tweak there...

People don't fear the unknown because it's alien and strange, they fear it because it's so close.

I'm not a stranger. You've always known me, you've always been me.

Fight all you want, it becomes you. And you're becoming it.

Irreversibly.

2009-10-15T23:12:00.002+11:00

unfair unfair unfair unfair unfair unfair unfair
coursing through my head on an endless repeat
how could you do this to them?
why? what does it fix? what does it achieve? why is this even necessary?
so many questions, none of which will ever have answers
just know this - you have lost all respect in my eyes.

maybe if you wanted respect, you should have shown some to other people
I don't know who decided to elect you to this office
but whoever they were, they were sadly mistaken.
sad for us, sad for them, sad for everything.
who knows where this will end.
because our brief time here is far too precious
to be wasted on your inanities.
one would think that you'd figured it out by now.
still, it's not like you would listen to me.

the first look you ever gave me was one of hatred
the first words you spoke were harsh and cutting.
a bad start, you told me, a bad attitude.
perhaps you were the reason it was so.

2009-10-12T17:33:00.003+11:00

A vision in pastels
Highlights and lowlights, all blurred with the soft mist of time
Memories burnished to a glossy sheen
By the constant loving caress of thought that keeps them alive and glowing
I don't want them ever to fade
Because the moments I spent with you were some of the best
How I wish we could go back to those times.

Or do I?
Because to go back would mean losing a year of my life
A year of experiences, a year of joys and sorrows
If I could relive those times, erasing all memories of what came after
I would gain nothing more from it
And if I could relive them, knowing what I know now,
I think it would break my heart.
Sad to say, we truly are the sum of our experiences.

Yet I do want to go back to those times
Because I know I could never recreate them
And I know that life will never be quite the same again
A rare window of opportunity, never to come again
It's comforting to know that I tried to make the most of it
That during that short time, I really did live life to the full

Like planets worshipping our separate suns
Our paths were starcrossed, our orbits coincided
And our combined lights together truly were beautiful.
But the moment has passed, we're drifting away
And although you're not lost to me yet, I feel that one day you will be
Ultimately, the same star governs all our destinies
But I can feel gravity pulling me in a direction where you don't wish to follow
And once I've gone there, I won't want to come back
Will you still be able to reach out to me across the galaxies?
I don't dare ask, because deep down I fear
That as time passes, you will no longer want to.

2009-10-09T00:00:00.004+11:00

"Noooooo!!!! Why did *insert name of band here* get signed to *insert big label here*?!?!?! SELL OUTS!!!!!"

"NOOOOO! Why do they have heaps of fans now?! They're not REAL fans! SELL OUTS!!"

"Noooooo!!! They're so mainstream now! They don't care about the music, only money!!!! SELL OUTS!!!!"

Aaaaargh. Like it or not, being an underground band signed to a label nobody's heard of with a tiny (albeit devoted) fanbase payeth not the bills. And if they're really as great as you say they are, isn't it logical for them to be attracting more fans?! And bands change their sound. Just because their new album is different and possibly more popular doesn't mean they've sold their souls to some evil corporation. (That especially doesn't make sense when their latest album is even less mainstream-sounding than its predecessor.)

But no. According to you, bands must never become famous, rich, popular or change their sound, because that would make them sellouts. They have to stay unknown, never gain more fans, never change or mature and never earn enough for music to be their living.

Also. "If I make a band, I'm only gonna become just popular enough to make a living!"

And how exactly will you accomplish this? Have a fan quota which must not be exceeded? Never perform big shows even if your fans want to see you? Refuse to allow your songs to be played on radio? Chuck out all the extra money you earn that you don't absolutely need?

Why is it fine for bands to be 'rising stars' or 'heading for the big time' or 'on their way to stardom' but it's not okay for them to actually get there? Having dreams is fine, then, but achieving them isn't.

2009-10-05T05:17:00.003+11:00

No, I will NOT listen to your crazy advice. Why on earth should I pretend to be dumber than I am, simply so I can blend into the background? And the alternative is surely too terrible to consider - "OMG, people might actually discover that I have a brain and am capable of stringing a sentence together without every second word being an expletive! THE HORROR!!!!"

2009-10-05T05:06:00.003+11:00

Why are there people out there who want to condemn teens to a literary diet of superficial fluff? "Read this! It perfectly describes the trials and tribulations of everyday teen life!" Someone wake me up then, because if this is reality then obviously I have no conception of it.

This must be so, because I have never obsessed over finding the perfect shade of eyeshadow, an activity which occupies a sizeable portion of the life of the protagonist. I am not a merciless bully who exists only to torment others, nor am I on the run from one. I have no desire to find a boyfriend. If you call me a nerd, I will probably adjust my glasses and beam at you in acknowledgement, not hide in a corner and cry. It's true, I'm a total nerd - no point denying it.

Also, I feel no inclination whatsoever to be fashionable. Jeans and baggy t-shirts FTW!

2009-10-05T04:45:00.004+11:00

I find a list of 'great teen reads'. So much for variety. Why is it that they are all about:

a) Girls whose lives are torn apart by some terrible tragedy and who have to pick up the pieces
b) Random fashion-obsessed chicks who want to start clothing lines
c) Lonely outcasts who somehow vanquish the 'popular girls' and become queen of the school

And that's it. Either dead depressing, shallow and meaningless, or clichéd and unrealistic. And EW. Gossip Girl.

And will someone PLEASE write a book about school life that's vaguely believable? A school that's not a 'prep school', doesn't have a bitchy 'popular group', doesn't revolve around some stupid party/outfit and isn't a tearjerker about broken relationships or abusive teachers. Then maybe there'd be a chance of fitting a plot in there somewhere.

Question: why do books for teens always have to be about real life anyway? I'm not gonna read a book simply because it 'bears a striking parallel to the experiences of teenagers today' or 'tragically mirrors real life'. I don't need to read depressing books to know what teens' lives are like - I am a teen! Living my own life and observing those of my friends is drama aplenty.

And I'm sick of people brushing off fantasy books because they're 'not realistic' or because they 'make teens lose touch with reality'. It's not like reality's exactly easy to lose - "OMG! I need some reality, now! Where, oh where can I find some?" No, my existence is just an illusion and 'real life' can be found only within the pages of depressing novels.

And all the fantasy books you find seem to just be metaphors for something else. Usually something depressing, such as the world perishing due to global warming/evil world leaders/nuclear holocaust/*insert apocalyptic prediction here*. I don't want to be dragged back to real life - I want to escape it. I don't want to have to sift through the story as I read, analysing and carefully searching for hidden messages and veiled insults. I want to forget myself and be immersed completely in the politics and customs of another world, one that is completely disconnected from my own.

2009-10-01T01:07:00.003+10:00

It's 1:05 am. I'm still on the computer. This is made possible by the fact that my sister is sleeping upstairs tonight and isn't here to kick me off.

When you do something for too long, eg listening to music, reading, staring at the screen, it warps your sense of time and plays havoc inside your head. It's like a drug. Even though your ears are ringing or your back aches or your eyes are blurring or whatever, you don't want to stop - you just want to be sucked in deeper. And when no one yanks off the headphones or takes your book away or turns the computer off, that's exactly what you can do...

Excuse me while I go get high.

2009-09-28T17:39:00.001+10:00

Isn't it strange, how you can hardly know someone at all and yet feel willing to give up your life for them.

2009-09-22T18:58:00.002+10:00

I promised myself that this year I'd listen to every single band in the Soundwave lineup BEFORE I went. AFI, MCR and HIM (so many acronyms) I already know and love, Paramore and Escape The Fate I don't love, and the rest are unknown quantities. Aargh, I'm starting to think mathematically again. Nooooo!

I never realised how many songs by Faith No More I've actually heard without knowing who they were by. Hehe, I went and downloaded a bunch of stuff and I'm kind of in love with Midlife Crisis ^_^ Not to mention, Surprise! You're Dead and Digging The Grave.

I just realised how morbid all that sounds. Oh well.

And dude, WHY is Soundwave selling so fast? Last year I bought my tickets in December (or was it January?) no problems. But this time around, the tickets went on sale at 9 am on Friday, I bought mine around 4 pm, and then everyone starts panicking on Saturday about them being nearly gone O_o Probably because all the so-called 'emo' bands are playing, meaning that all those infuriating poser emo kids will buy tickets to see MCR and ignore all the other awesome bands, instead sitting around looking depressed all day. Stupid people pretending to be depressed, and taking credibility away from the people who actually are...

2009-09-17T21:32:00.003+10:00

Silent, purposeful figures, crossing the wide courtyard. Arms laden with books, they walked together with a certain sombre affinity. They did not talk, nor laugh, but stayed a respectful distance from each other. Close, but not too much so.

A capricious breeze sprang up, filling the air with the fresh scent of spring. It whipped through the courtyard, making the flags snap and crack on their poles, snatching skirts and stray hair that had escaped from ponytails, making the graceful willow branches sway to and fro. And the first wet drops fell from the sky, splashing on upturned faces and warm concrete.

"Aargh, my hair!"
"Quick, let's get inside!"
"Oh no, I forgot my umbrella today..."

But she hardly heard them. She stared at the shifting masses of grey cloud above her, gasping as the wet drops fell on her face and streaked down her cheeks. Huge, cool drops, each one splashing individually to the earth. She sank to her knees, books cascading to the ground.

"The sky is crying," she whispered brokenly, her throat expanding with an unbearable sob. "The sky is crying..."

And as her companions watched, bewildered, she fell slowly forwards and clasped her head in her hands, face hidden behind her hair, tears dripping to the ground and mingling with the rain.

2009-09-16T23:16:00.002+10:00

Submerged in an ocean of feelings
we don't resurface often
it's easier that way.

It's safer down there
warm shadows embrace you as you move through the mysterious darkness
shades of emotion caress your senses
you can't see clearly, but that doesn't matter
I've never been able to anyway.
Faces are blurred, sounds are muted
in the warm fuzziness, touch is all that's required
we coexist peacefully.

Of course there are the danger zones
wastelands of pain
wild storms of loneliness
the red heat of rage
lurking just out of reach
until something triggers it and brings it flooding back
but it can be avoided
and we can just float along
sleepily comprehending those around us
blissfully numb

Until you drag me out again.
Why do you do it?
Do you like to hurt me?
You do it every time you
yank the earphones from my head
drag the pillow off my bed
throw my books onto the floor
shout at me and slam the door
don't bring me back to reality
it's too hard, too brutal, too unrelenting

life is a sharp blade, cutting into my flesh
bitter as the tears that it brings to my eyes
leave me alone
let me join the others in the ocean of feelings
until the hurt all drains away
and I sink under
numb once more

2009-09-16T19:47:00.000+10:00

It’s strange

that the very thing that fills your soul with its beauty

and elevates your mind to a new level of understanding

is the same one that everyone delights in tearing down

poisoning it, despoiling it

until you clutch its tattered remains to your heart

and weep.

Why do you do it?

I know that it was never your intention

but every harsh word you throw at it hurts me

every jeering accusation pierces straight through my heart

I’m sure that if you knew how much it kills me

you would stop.

at least I hope so

the alternative is too terrible to consider

because if that’s really the way you feel about me

what hope do I have?

Take this away

and the sky is ripped from over my head

the ground drops into nothingness beneath me

every light in the universe is extinguished

and I’m nothing, insignificant, tiny

whirling through the dark void of space

with no purpose or meaning

for eternity

Take this away, and I cease to exist

take this away

and I am nothing.

You seek merely to divest me of my ignorance

my hypocrisy, my pride

Do you know that in reality you’re stripping away

my dignity

my purpose

and every last trace of joy I ever possessed?

2009-09-15T18:30:00.003+10:00

Well, aren't I nice. Everyone else has gone to my little brothers' school show, and I'm home alone, the only one who wouldn't come.

Why is that, you ask?

Because I have homework. No it isn't - you know you'll never get it done until midnight at least.

Because I don't feel well. But you haven't felt well all week, and that hasn't stopped you doing anything else.

Because I'm mean and I care more about Facebook than my own brothers, okay? Not true. You can't stand the sight of Facebook anymore, and you're sick of computers and everything to do with them.

Because I want to be home alone. No you don't. You hate being alone, because the sad thoughts rise to the surface when there's no one around to suppress them.

But I want to listen to my music up loud, by myself. No you don't. There's nothing you feel like hearing.

But if no one's around, I can play the piano as loud as I like. That won't make you happy. You won't find the courage, anyway, because the silence seems so loud you don't like to break it.

But then why am I here, lonely and by myself? Are you afraid? Yes. Of what? I don't know.

2009-09-14T21:48:00.004+10:00

Heheh. I think I should post on here more often, and less on LJ. So...

HOLIDAYS ARE COMING!!!!! Anchor weekend, Wangaratta and lots of sleeping. Oh, and my English oral, although I'm trying not to think about that...

2009-09-14T21:45:00.002+10:00

Hi Mary-Anne ^_^

2009-09-14T21:41:00.003+10:00

Bill Kaulitz does NOT look like a girl. Am I the only one who thinks this?!

He doesn't look girly here! Hmph. So there.

2009-09-12T17:32:00.003+10:00

Dude, I haven't posted on here for AGES. Partially because my internet has only just been fixed (YAY!!!!!!) and partially because LJ is just so damn addictive O_o

You know what else is addictive? Tokio Hotel. Must find some cute pics to stick on the classroom wall and counteract all the disgusting Jonas Brothers/Gossip Girl stuff that's already there...

2009-07-27T17:26:00.002+10:00

Problem with watching too many movies/dramas with subs - it turns your ears off. Then when someone throws in random English you panic. "What? Why can't I understand?! Oh...right. English!"

2009-07-13T21:05:00.003+10:00

I feel so sorry for anyone in the next ten years who wants to write a book about vampires - they'll instantly be accused of imitating Stephenie Meyer. Even sorrier for people with the word 'twilight' in their usernames or whatever else, with no relation to the book, because people will instantly think they're hardcore teenieboppers. Although there are a bunch of books out lately that are obviously cheap Twilight imitations...

Just rereading that, I was like wait, did I leave out a capital letter somewhere? But no - it's just my stupid brain automatically tries to capitalise 'twilight'! See how pervasive it is?!

What's also annoying is people who instantly think you're stupid just because you like the book. Hey, it was alright before Robert Pattinson and the screaming thirteen year old fangirls arrived on the scene...

2009-07-03T21:41:00.002+10:00

Stupid Windows Vista. The only good thing about it is the cool screensavers. Pity they don't work on XP... -_-

2009-07-02T02:25:00.002+10:00

One and a half weeks left of holidays. And no idea what to do to fill in the time. The only thing stopping me from wishing they were already over is the large pile of homework in my schoolbag... -_-

2009-04-26T15:15:00.005+10:00

Well, it would appear that Jacqui was right. ALOE VERA WATER FTW! With lychee ^_^ (Btw, isn't 'lychee' a cute word?)

And also. Dude. Why is it so WINDY?! Equinoctial gales, apparently. Exactly how long does the equinox go for?! I thought it was the equinox back in March! And every day the newspaper has some more of those 'windy enough to...' sayings. "It was windy enough to blow the lines off a road" was the latest one. And on top of that, it's COLD. Not that I'm complaining. 15 or thereabouts is my ideal temperature ^_^ Everyone else is though. I just don't think I register the cold sometimes - like before, when I was sitting down here on the computer and gradually came to the realisation that my fingers were too stiff to type properly.

And PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE someone bring Tokio Hotel to Melbourne! I don't know why I'm so obsessed after only listening to them for like, half a week, but they HAVE to come here. They just HAVE to. PLEASE.

2009-04-21T22:20:00.003+10:00

Oh dear. It all started with Joanna's deviantART and I think I'm gonna develop a full-0n obsession with Tokio Hotel. HOW could you get past Bill's hair?

...I don't think anyone ever reads this anymore, but if anyone does, GO AND LISTEN TO TOKIO HOTEL.

2009-04-14T22:10:00.003+10:00

8yrfhnp;fhn04rfyhnfh8efhn why does this always happen. Every time I go to Shinny's house my head gets STUFFED WITH K-POP!!!!!!!!!! e7frheufh9owe7fuuhuoffff well I suppose that's a good thing, all this lovely Asianness... 43thnufhn Arashi tf8yhfnshndf Kat-tun 8eyhrne0fhnsufn Tae Yang dsughasduuasdbsd8 Tokio fysf0s888888888888yd08hsouisd0 NewS sd8s7d7sdj294wi4wdkfmkkmfmsdusd8u'.;.'k.'.[lg[ph Big Bang day7d8ioudhna DBSK 3rw7rfsifh349 Super Junior as78dey3948h23e4ijd9 Gokusen dtysd7s9ydddddd My Boss My Hero sf7syf7sfiisfdhf Hana Yori Dango sd8yys0dy7ds Tablo gfy73w89ruhoigld Matsumoto Jun sd7w7eouef Boys Over Flowers ys08fy8fs Hana Kimi TOO MANY SHINKUMI FANFICS a7dyhasudddaudsda oh dear.

2009-04-03T00:25:00.001+11:00

It's midnight. Actually, it's more like half past.

Why do I feel so much more alive at night?

2009-03-29T21:43:00.001+11:00

But WHY can't I go to school in my pyjamas? *sigh* Oh, the injustice of it all...

"I've got you now, L!"

"Why don't you look again, Light?"

"Curses..."

2009-03-24T21:43:00.002+11:00

Why are there so many bands who seem to think that insulting religion - any religion - is justified if it sells you a few records? I find it incredibly hard to take them seriously...

2009-03-24T17:38:00.001+11:00

Isn't 'shape' a menacing word, when you think about it?

2009-03-20T19:01:00.003+11:00

Things I have discovered...

If the world suddenly and unexpectedly comes to a violent and cataclysmic end, you'll know who to blame. Zoe, for not leaving a space in her book ^_^
Calculators are no longer called calculators - they're plussers. Definitely an improvement, don't you agree?
Sometimes, staying immobile with your head under your pillow really IS the best course of action.

2009-03-20T18:40:00.005+11:00

I agree - writers are often underappreciated on deviantART. But finding a good piece of writing isn't as easy as judging visual art. You can't just glance at it - you have to read the whole thing. And unfortunately, most of the stuff I come across seems to be either endless emo rants, random poems that I can't decipher or badly written fanfiction. You have to sift through gigabytes of ungrammatical fangirliness before finding anything worth reading DX

(Lol, I can talk, having been guilty of all three of the aforementioned annoyances ^_^)

2009-03-19T17:51:00.002+11:00

Ahem. What do you MEAN Storm Hawks has a predominantly male fanbase? Dude, violence-loving little brothers cannot compete with obsessive goth chicks! I mean, how could you get past Stork? No cartoon with anyone bearing such a marked resemblance to Davey Havok escapes the fangirls! And then there are the yaoi lovers. Yet more unlikely pairings to feed their fantasies...

2009-03-18T20:23:00.002+11:00

WTH?! Why are people telling me I seem like the type of person who wouldn't like hugs or physical contact?! I LIKE hugs!

Dammit...

-_-