|| Ze Cast || Funniest / Best Blogs on the web || My Writings ||

Best viewed with Mozilla Firefox/Google Chrome

Please don't feel as though you have to follow me in return of my following your blog, I'd rather you only do so out of genuine interest. C:

Saturday, January 31, 2009

I meant to post this last night (or rather, this morning, around the 6-ish mark), but I was on my dad's mobile and it was slow and I was tired and still not all that sober...
I did sneak out to hang out with two of my friends who have now finished school, but who I originally knew from Staberfoyle. So we played a couple of drinking games and hey, Mark has an air conditioner which was a more attractive prospect than anything, in this crazy 40 degree weather we've been having. (It's been in the high 40's for the last few days and is likely to stay in the 40's till next Sunday /dies [that's Celsius])
Anyway, in the past I may have mentioned that I can actually keep my balance pretty well while inebriated. Forget that. I was very, very wrong. Not that I was all that much more uncoordinated than when sober, but still; it was worse. Definitely, noticeably worse.
I still was capable of climbing over a fence ;)
I'd post more but I don't feel comfortable sharing certain things with those of you I know IRL, particularly via a blog. Haha. But no, Car Crash Hearts, I did not hook up with Nick. ;P


Thursday, January 29, 2009


I feel like I just betrayed him. Lol not that he could care less.
But I was just talking to David, who said something, and I reacted with the facial expression that I have only ever used with my former best friend. Quite literally. I don't mean an emoticon, I mean a proper expression. I have never ever used it with anyone else. And I am so shocked I reacted that way. He was only joking too; of course he was only joking. Ughhh. Whereas my best friend would have said it seriously, in our little acting childish thing that we did. I caught myself staring at him today. Actually he caught me staring at him too. He's had a haircut and I haven't seen the look in his eyes in a long time; the way you look at someone when you are friends with them and are glad to see them, the way I long to see him look at me. I don't want the half dead, blank look, which is probably the same one I give him... I don't convey the longing in my look anymore, my eyes just watch, wondering what he's thinking, what he's been doing lately, and dying a little because once, I would have known... I don't want to look away because it gives me something to remember, the memories are fading already; and I'm not ready for that. I wonder if he realises that I still want things as they are, or if he thinks I have moved on.
I don't want to move on.
But, I think I am...


Tuesday, January 27, 2009

You're too absorbed to notice,
And I don't think I care,
But I'm looking back and wondering,
What happened to what was there?

Strange, how friendships change over the years. This isn't about them. But with friends who you once shared the same mindset with, who you would speak for as they would speak for you; how does that vanish? Of course, as humans, we change; our paths diverge. With the passing of time comes the shifting of sand. Such small differences can change the course of things so greatly.

There is nothing wrong with these changes. It is best for us to be in close relationships with different people at different points in our lives.

Yet sometimes, this drifting apart does not occur. It is a sudden snap of that which binds two, or three, or more, together (and now it is about them again, and I'm sorry) a break that should not happen; for the pieces still fit together. But one is lost, or the pieces are torn asunder, and here is the dreadful thing. For the relationship has not followed its course. And here is where a healthy relationship becomes damaging. For that which we let in closest to us has the most power to inflict pain, to wound, to destroy.

An untimely death of a relationship is devastating.

But. Changing friendships intrigue me. I recall how we were always together, I recall the same with her at another time. And now you have that with each other, and I am nnot jealous, merely highly curious as to the strange way life works...


Thursday, January 22, 2009

So when I go for a few days without much food, a barely decent amount of sleep, and lose 470mL of blood + a bit more (donated blood today!); I am completely mindfucked.
Really. I was talking to some guy today, at the skate park, from the event I am doing; but I forget his name. I went really hyper and didn't make much sense.
I'm definitely lacking in energy at times but that could be because I haven't been taking my Vitamin D and Ostelin tablets. I forget what Ostelin is for and yes, I am severely deficient in Vitamin D. Yes, Vitamin D is derived from sunlight. So that is correct, I am not getting enough sunlight living in Australia. Apparently because my skin is darker it doesn't absorb sunlight as quickly, but I'm still out in the sun a fair amount...
Anyhow. Lack of Vitamin D can contribute to depression, tiredness, etc.
But, driving home today, I made so many mistakes. My concentration levels were shot; I hadn't even realised till then, I couldn't focus on enough things at once. A tiny distraction and I made a huge error... It was disturbing.

Only way this week could be better though, is if it was a camp. And if I got to see Justin more.


Wednesday, January 21, 2009


Who makes me the happiest?

a) Justin

b) Jake, back in the day

c) Jimit

d) James

Answer: Justin or Jake.
I only really threw James in so you can notice the weird thing I seem to have for guys whose names start with J, although he's great, we just aren't that close.
Jimit is easily ruled out, it irritates me how he never talks about important stuff. Just everyday things, I don't really like relationships of any kind without that deeper aspect, especially when you've been friends for over a year. Even though when I liked him he made me heaps happy. But not as much as Jake.
Seeing Jake or talking to him always made me smile, I was devastated everytime he was sad or angry at me even. With Justin, things are much the same, I respect him and look up to him so much, any positive word from him sends me over the moon. I feel valuable because he cares about me, some teenager among 60 others who he knew for less than a working week and bared her soul to him, over myspace, because she trusted him completely. And never regretted it. He has helped me through some really hard times since.
Justin is someone you immediately trust, immediately feel at ease with; and within a short amount of time you find yourself wanting to spill everything to him. He is so genuine, so caring, such an example of God's work through people. But yeah. Jake was amazing too. In a different context. So idk.


Sometimes I prefer older people than those my age

Seriously, half the time, at this community service week (it finishes at 6PM rather than 9PM both tonight and tomorrow), I would prefer to spend time with Justin and my other leaders than people my age. I love other teens, don't get me wrong. Like my new friend Monika, who turns 15 tomorrow. She's 14. That seems insanely young... And then there are Amber and her boyfriend Luke (who is sooo cute /dies), who are 15. Cale, who is in year 10 this year at my school (although I've never seen him around before although he's seen me lol), so he's 2 years below me in school, is 15 and a half. He constantly sounds like he has a sore throat, and he has really long dark hair that should probably be cut, which he is getting done on Saturday (and I hate when guys get their hair cut coz it rarely looks good), and braces and a tiny bit of acne; but like I said he's really nice. And a little bit of a flirt...

I hate being friends with guys who are flirts, even without meaning to be, because I think I start flirting with them back, without realising. Although, apparently I flirt with guys heaps, but I've never noticed that I do. Yet, so my friends tell me. And I think I do, looking back, but I really don't mean to. It's just kinda how I am with guys near my age, unless I am completely un-attracted to them or they are my friend's boyfriend or something. Although I guess I still act the same way around them anyway.

But. Justin. I'd pick him anytime. And my other leader, Kristen, is amazing too, although she's just 19. Most of the leaders are awesome. James Bowden is also fantastic, so mature for his age (21).

Today, my friend's younger sister told me that I was really pretty. I was like, uhm. Because her (and her twin) are both absolutely gorgeous. Haha that was a whoa moment for me.

For those of you who don't know, Justin was my small group leader when my friend and I did Big Week Out two years ago. We adored him and spent most of the week with him. He is now 28. When we first met him he was already married to a chaplain, and he was a youth worker. He is really smart, caring, fun, nice; basically everything good. I look up to him so much. I have told him almost everything; not the recent friends thing, but about my self harm since even before it became serious, my issues with myself and my mother, with God. He has been a great help, and there for me in those two years whenever I have reached out to him. He's offered to teach me to learn to drive in a manual, although I'm not sure how serious he was. But how cool would that be? Especially if it means I would get to see him after Big Week Out! He is the most amazing person, and if I could spend all of BWO with him, I would. He's pretty busy with organising things for it though. He was my event leader today (we did an afternoon today and painted over graffiti), and after our event, back at the base, Cale and I were sitting together in one chair (a tiny bit squashed, but he was warm and so I was comfy), and Justin was sitting next to us talking. I haven't really talked to Justin much this BWO, which I'm so disappointed about. Hopefully I will.
He noticed that I wasn't eating lunch today, and he knows about my hating to eat and all the reasons why; but I walked away from him so he couldn't make me eat something. But I love that he cares about me.
Tomorrow I am donating blood, which I am really excited about. Not having eaten much, it may be a problem but we'll see. Since Tuesday I've eaten two chocolate bars and a handful of shredded cheese (I was hungry when I got home today), and we shall see how it goes tomorrow. I hate eating during school time anyway, and really, I have put on so much weight.
I know, it's not a good idea, it doesn't work, and all that. People have been telling me that for far longer than I've known Justin. But... I just don't know.

So anyway, Cale. I have noticed that I have a problem in which, when practically any guy starts to show interest in me, I consider the potential for something more than friendship. I don't want a relationship. But you know what I'm like in desperately needed to feel like I'm good enough, and if a guy likes me, that makes me feel like I'm pretty enough and am acceptable as a person; although I also partly think that they are somewhat deluded... usually, I will end up liking them in return, at least for a while. I also don't have very many guy friends. So when I do, I kinda want them to like me, even if I don't like them. Because like I said, it makes me feel good enough. Even though I'm still scared I'll never fall in and stay in love with someone who will love me back the same way.

Completely off topic - You know what, I almost feel ready to listen to "Rise Above This" again. It is my all time favourite song (thus far), seconded by "The Way She Feels" by Between the Trees. Rise Above This by Seether is the song that gives me hope and courage to live, no matter what happens. It's a song I haven't listened to in over five months, since things fucked up went to hell with my three best friends. (I didn't want to want to keep going. It also reminded me of one of them, the one I post about the most, since he also liked it.) If you're interested, take a look at the official music video on YouTube, it's amazing; about a boy considering killing himself. Or, here are the lyrics (Yes, they are pretty elementary, but still) -

"Take the light, and darken everything around me
call the clouds and listen closely, I'm lost without you
Call your name every day when i feel so helpless
I'm fallin' down but I'll rise above this, rise above this

Hate the mind, regrets are better left unspoken
For all we know, this void will grow and
Everything's in vain, distressing you though it leaves me open
Feels so right, but I'll end this all before it gets me

Call your name every day, when i feel so helpless
I'm fallin' down, but I'll rise above this, rise above this
Call your name every day, when i seem so helpless
I'm fallin' down, but I'll rise above this, rise above this doubt

I'll mend myself before it gets me
(I'll mend myself before it gets me)
I'll mend myself before it gets me
(I'll mend myself before it gets me)

Call your name every day, when i feel so helpless
I'm fallin' down, but I'll rise above this, rise above this
Call your name every day, when i seem so helpless
I'm fallin' down, but I'll rise above this, rise above this
Forty eight ways to say that I'm feelin' helpless
Fallin' down, fallin down', but I'll rise above this, rise above this"

Apologies for any typos or errors, it's a mere copy paste.

As for specifics on Big Week Out, tomorrow. It's been great so far (:


Monday, January 19, 2009

It's heaps good

I may not be posting much till the end of this week (yes, I know you're all devastated). It shall be a busy and rewarding week, I'm really excited at the thought of making new friends, seeing old ones again, learning, helping others, and all that jazz.
I finally get to donate blood! I'm really excited since last time I was given the opportunity I wasn't 16, which is the minimum age for donating blood here in Australia. Procedures like that fascinate me, I love getting blood tests and the like. For those of you who don't know, I have a bit of a weird obsession with blood (I'd post a link here to a previous post but I'm on my dad's phone), and also it can help save three people's lives so I'm even more enthused! I also have a motivation never to take drugs (injecting ones anyway), because if you ever have you can't donate blood. Not that I should need a reason but I'm something of a pushover, sucker for peer pressure, etc. Anyhow I definitely want to be able to donate blood, which I can do till I'm 70 hurrah (:
But blood donating is just a small part of what this week shall be about... It is a week where teenagers participate in events that service the community, but not necessarily community service in the traditional sense. There is a bit of painting over grafitti but visiting nursing home residents, clowning, free public barbecues, fixing people's gardens are some of the other events we've got planned.
It's basically organised by a bunch of churches around Adelaide, and I last participated in the eventt two years ago. There are several bases and ours has about 70 teens, plus leaders and organisers. Apart from the events, we will hear talks and participate in group discussions where will we consider the importance of community (which is also important to me and To Write Love On Her Arms) and God and how he can work in our lives, and those kinds of things. Some really important and thought provoking ideas are raised during the course of the week, and I am definitely looking forward to it.


Sunday, January 18, 2009

Typical toivoa moment

So today I decided to fry some eggs.
There were a few sitting there in the egg shelf of the fridge door, so I grabbed two as the oil was heating in the pan. All seemed normal...

The problems began when I attempted to crack the first egg. It was rather hard and when it actually did crack I wasn't paying much attention. I held it above the pan, trying to break it apart, thinking that what I was meeting resistance with was that filmy white layer you get just within an eggshell. Not looking, I was thinking, this is soo thick... :s Once I finally came up with the brilliant idea to look at what I was doing, I realised what I was actually holding was an already boiled egg, obviously done by my mother.... Feeling like a bit of a douche, I had another look in the fridge and took another 2 eggs from the carton I found there.
Now, this egg was also quite hard as I hit it to crack it. I got a little bit impatient and tried cracking it simply with the force of my fingers, whereupon it promptly broke and the egg splattered all over me...
I was left standing there, bewildered, with the broken pieces of eggshell in my hands and egg yolk slowly dripping down my top...


I must confess,

that I did spend a rather large part of church this morning considering topics to blog about...

I grab my dad's phone randomly all the time to check if anyone has posted something new or if I have comments. It's becoming a little bit of an addiction. And if you n MySpace, you thought my former addiction to that was bad? That I posted too many surveys in bulletins? That's nothing. This is truly serious ;P

So what were the topics I came up with? I could explain all about David... Which I will soon. Really. Then there was something to do with church. After that, for a while I was occupied with trying to work out just why I was feeling so dizzy, which hasn't happened in ages, and barely ever when I was sitting down.
I vaguely remember forming a physical description of the church but I don't recall what I was going to use that in relation with...
I thought about writing about my sister. But that's out because of those of you who know her, even just a little.
I considered writing about my last year of school, starting in just over a week.
I considered writing about why I even drink, when I was so much against it before.
I considered writing about what I am like with guys. Or perhaps even about Jimit, since he is the closest thing to a rewarding experience I've had with being with a guy. It wasn't bad. But it was pretty empty. And really, that just kinda sucks.
I thought about writing about how I came to stop self harming, for the last time. I think. I would like to say that it's definite, but who knows what will happen?
Writing more about my hospitalisation for overdosing on painkillers also came up. I've written about it here before, but there's a lot I haven't talked about. Not even in my diary, since this has kinda replaced that for now...
And I'd like to talk about it, and I'd like you to listen. Or, in this blogging world, to read.
Writing about what I have done to others to feel that I am loved. Nothing reeeally bad but still. That was an option.
I considered exploring the idea that "the heart is wicked and deceitful above all things".
Then there was the relationship I have with my best friend who I have known for over nine years, and the ridiculous childlike fights we had, which are highly amusing now; just what it is with me and God and all that; how I think religion is the biggest piece of crap along with how offensive I find the "Religion is Bullshit" video on YouTube I found by stand up comic George Carlin because he was not only attacking religion, but mocking a God I believe in in a way that I didn't find amusing at all. My friend and I started watching a couple of his other videos but all of them were so spitefully attacking things that I was quite digusted.

Perhaps instead of thinking of what to write about, I could have tried to come up with a blogger name and all that jazz.

(Oh, by the way, my sunburn has faded majorly, now I just look more brown...)

So. The winning blog matter for today is...

A bit more about the hospitalisation. See, when I catch a bus to the closest shopping centre, it's necessary to change buses, which is done at the bus loop of Flinders Medical Centre. Every time I am there, waiting by myself, memories arise in my mind of that time when I was not just waiting for a bus, but brought there in an ambulance, terrified and trying to convince myself I wasn't. The thing I was most immediately concerned with was my family's reactions. The school had called my dad and he was meeting us there. I knew he would be angry, disappointed, and not really talk. I also didn't realise just how long it was going to take. What was of highest priority for me was not letting my younger sister know. I have always been somewhat protective of her, and even though she knew about my self harm (Thanks mum), I didn't want her to know about this. I was the one who was supposed to be stronger, and look after her. I didn't want her to feel like she had to look after me.
Of course, the school let her know. >.< It took far longer than I expected and I had to stay overnight, so she would have known anyway, but I was still extremely disappointed that I couldn't keep this from her.
I was far more distressed when I realised, many months later, while talking to her, that she thought I had been trying to die. That was not it at all! I was horrified. That she had learned I had overdosed and that must have been running through her mind... she must have been so scared.
I have to go, I'll finish when I get on later tonight.


I'm in a good, if slightly strange, mood

For more diverse topics, see my previous posts of the night (morning) on my sunburn (sigh).
But anyway. So we're talking on MSN. Gotta love 3AM conversations. Actually it died at about 2.39, apparently. So it lasted a fair while this time. Good sign? Perhaps.
I am a very openly emotional person. One of those who will blurt out everything she feels when its not necessarily a good idea. At all. Who feels the need to express her feelings and thoughts and fears about a situation so that everything is understood. And so.
I keep wanting to tell him everything. About how I'm scared to talk to him again because he may do the David thing. Yes, I still have to post about that, so you understand. But, in summary, it involves a friendship that exists on David's whim, where we will be close for a period of a few weeks or months and then he will barely speak to me, and not talk to me for a number of months, before the cycle begins again; with a little bit more than friendship thrown in occasionally too. I used to like him, a lot. Oh, and I don't know if I can trust him, with the conflicting things he has told me, to push me away and bring me back at various times. I'm scared now that my best friend is talking to me again, he will decide he doesn't want to bother anymore sometime and stop, once more, and I'll have to go through it again. HE'S NOT DAVID. But I'm not all that rational...
What else would I like to tell him? How much I miss him, how I would like to sneak out and go for a walk with him, because I think if we spent time together, things would fix themselves pretty much instantly; how I dream of him in a completely non weird way, how I think of him everyday, and try to explain how much he means to me? Should I bring up the whole hooking up thing and explain that it's not to do with that at all, I love him, and as a friend, not as anything more?
Some of this stuff, I know I should keep to myself. Others, I'm not sure. Thoughts?


Roses are red, Violets are blue,

But roses are pure white,
Compared to my hue...

Yes, I know, I'm quite the poet. ^_^
To elaborate on my previous post. Yes, I am sunburnt.

The sun in all its glory smiled down upon me today,
And in its brightly shining, got quite carried away.

Uh, please stop with the rhyming.

Why am I so distressed about the sunburn / tan?
Okay, I'm not distressed, I'm dismayed and yet, highly, highly amused.
But come on, I had so much sunscreen on!

With Indian parents, I'm not exactly light skinned, although I wouldn't say I'm heaps dark, like not really much at all... But when I tan / burn, I tan, and this tan is permanent. My shoulders are already really dark from my second sunburn, at the end of year 9. I am now starting year 12. So, now that they have been burnt further, they will become even darker...

So I was at the beach, if you remember my post before entitled "Time for some maths", which was written absolutely shockingly, yes; I had gone to the beach the day prior to that post. I ended up going there also on Saturday, which technically is now yesterday. Thanks to some of your comments and also the fact that I hadn't really eaten much over the past day just out of forgetfulness, plus how we went to a more secluded part of the beach, I was rather less self conscious. Now I wish I had been like, "Ewwww, I am hideously fat thus I shall cover my flab", or, you know, something. Lol. And now, I am paying, dreadfully.

See, with my face, if it weren't for the red nose (no Rudolph comments thanks), I could easily have pulled off the "I randomly have rosy cheeks for now" look. There goes that excuse.

My legs are really tanned and while I was happy with the shade they were before, they are now too dark for my liking. Hopefully it shall fade. Then there is the tan line from my shorts. Thankfully, my board shorts are the shortest item I own, so that shan't be revealed anytime soon / at all.

Now, the major problem with all of this is the fact that I'm actually not allowed to go to the beach with just my bathers. My parents wish for me to wear a tank top over them, plus the board shorts, because otherwise it's too revealing. Which is fair enough. And I wear the board shorts, but self conscious as I am, I pretty much refuse to wear a top because that's kinda lame. And you should probably have noticed by now how much I want to blend in with other people in ways like this...

So anyway. My tan line shows quite clearly what I was wearing. My back is red apart from the white (by comparison) line across it, which is just great. I also have the shape of the bikini where it comes up to tie around my neck imprinted on me. Which is only made worse when we factor in that, since I couldn't find my own bathers, I borrowed my sister's top, which I somehow managed to fit in, so when I wear my bathers next, the tan line shall be noticeable. /sulks

Haha. But it's been a good day. Lots of sun for vitamin D deficient me (:

So perhaps that is why I'm so happy... hmm.


Afterthought, I mean, of course. Perhaps the consumption of certain crappy drinks while at the beach today is finally catching up with me... since it really didn't do anything then. I'm acting just a little bit odd. Having to restrain myself from writing completely random crap in comments haha. But then, that could just be me.

Pulses, pssh. If Vodka Cruisers and beer weren't at the top of my most hated list for fairly different reasons (too sweet and much too similar to undiluted cordial, plain disgusting), Pulse would be there. They practically taste like V (energy drink), and I love V. But it's just like, expensive V. Alcoholic energy drinks... >.< They were a complete waste of money.

No, no, I lie.

My friend and I found great amusement in pushing the empty cans down under the water while we were on the beach and watching them bounce up as we let go...

Because we're really cool like that. ^_^

Not like we wanted to drink much or anything, after all, twas the beach... But waste of money. To all you who have not tried it, I highly (the correct word escapes my mind) de-recommend them...

Postscript (Really, it's not a postscript at all, and if it was, since this is an afterthought, it would be a post post script) - I will never, ever get as drunk as that time at Brad's (to be explained shortly).

Everything mentioned on this blog is not to be mentioned to people, in particular, relatives, who I know kthnxbai. lol

Oh, and so far, all of you have been thoroughly unhelpful in assisting me to come up with a fake name for myself for the blogging world, and the main characters in my life that resurface time and time again in my posts... Sadface.


Saturday, January 17, 2009

This is to make up for my lack of pimples, isn't it?

I barely ever get pimples. This is someone's idea of revenge... >.<
Everyone, I am sunburnt! Practically everywhere. Okay, not quite everywhere. Just, oh you know, my face, my shoulders, my back (with a tan line from my bikini), the backs of my legs, my cleavage (!); and the front of my legs are severely tanned. Gotta love the beach.

Haha fourth sunburn of my life, I have nothing to complain about. Actually, I do, and you, my dear readers, can learn all about it shortly. I am online on my dad's phone, with this open as a webpage, I don't think he'd be too happy if I set up mobile blogger on his phone. Not that he'd be pleased I'm using it to access the internet, but it's more that this way he won't know...

He'd be even less thrilled to discover that I'm only on his phone to pass time while waiting for both he and my mother to go to bed so i can get on the computer, which, may I add, they think they have prevented me from accessing when I should be in bed. Removing the internet cable? Pssh. It takes more than that to thwart me!

Haha oh I'm ever so devious... Or not.
Anyhow, this is an irritating way to blog, my dad has a Nokia E71 if you're interested, qwerty keyboard blah. If you want a phone with a full keyboard, I recommend a Blackberry. Not this. As for why I don't use my own phone, my current piece of crap just barely has a camera... I have a particular talent for destroying phones... Perhaps one day I shall blog about it...

And yes, my parents still try to get me to be in bed by 10.30, on a Saturday night. In the holidays. Sigh. However, please notice - "try". Perhaps "hope in vain" would suit better...
Anyhow, catcha on the flip side, bloggees! (My impromptu fond name for all of you, as you may be able to tell, I'm rather cheerful, despite the current red shade of my skin. Grr)


Pretty as a Picture

As a little girl (hey I'm a teenager now kay?? i'm like, all grown up and don't need anyone to tell me what to do, i know all ;P I swear, we're not like that all the time!!! It's a largely untrue stereotype, honest to God! lol), I never really cared what I looked like. I wasn't into dressing up, make up and handbags, high heels and pretending to be a princess. I'd dress up my Barbie dolls, but then I'd make some boys (my parents wouldn't buy my sister and I boy dolls haha) so I could act out my stories that I made up for them. I wasn't quite able to ignore the fact that they were still so obviously female, even when I cut their hair short and dressed them in t-shirts and shorts I made out of tissues and sticky tape, or even, haphazardly sewed, or stapled, spare pieces of material (I was creative!). But I wasn't big on caring about looks.

My mum did my hair for me until I was eleven. My parents chose my clothes until I was in year 6, although I was given choices. But it didn't really matter to me.

I don't know when looks became so important to me. In year seven I emerged out of my shyness to make some friends at school, just before leaving to go to high school. What I do remember is how much I hated myself.

We had a year seven reunion today, about three quarters of our year seven class turned up. We were looking at a Powerpoint where, in year seven, we had each made two pages with pictures of ourselves and written a little bit about us and our primary school memories. What struck me about mine was that under "Dislikes", I had written "Me". I was a little bemused by that, seeing how open I had been about it then. I remember telling my friends on a regular basis how I didn't feel they should be friends with me, how I was a "loser", and whatever other words were derogatory at the time. I'd talk about it all the time, I felt I wasn't worth them. I didn't deserve to be cared about. I was twelve.

I think that because I had been so shy and without many friends all these years, that I felt, subconsciously, when I did make friends, that I couldn't deserve them. If I hadn't before, why would I now? I was just a little more visible. And realising that I was desperate to be noticed, accepted.

It was in about year seven that I began considering my weight. I've never really been one to read magazines. Our family didn't even own a TV for the first eight years of my life, because they thought it had too many bad influences, which I'm inclined to agree with, to a point. Sure, with my new found friends, I would look through their glossy new "Girlfriend"s every month, but it seemed pretty stupid, even then. I don't really find pictures of models and celebrities to be something I desire to look like. I am aware of the falsity of those images, the pressure and extreme measures taken to be that thin, etc.

No, where I began to care about my weight came from somewhere much closer than that. My mum. I remember, in year six or seven, one of her comments as I walked into the room where she was sitting, "You look pregnant!" My mum has never been one for tact.

I haven't forgotten this yet, obviously, because no matter how much I tried to ignore this, it attacked me somewhere deep inside. How easily we remember past wounds! I know I remember hurtful words clearly, while forgetting kind mentions. This in part is due to how I would seize upon any negativity from others and twist it, digging the arrow in deeper. My worst enemy has been myself, but with others lending weight to the negative thoughts about myself, I was trying to protect myself by making sure their messages stuck, that I would remember. How is that protection? So that I would not embarrass myself, that I would not delude myself into thinking I was pretty, an acceptable body shape, and possibly even reveal that I thought so, when it wasn't true. I was driving home these "truths" so that this embarrassment could not occur, for if I thought I was better than I was and others saw that, would they not just deride and scorn me? And although I thought I was not deserving of these friends of mine, that did not mean I didn't want them. I did, oh I did! To feel loved, it was wonderful. How selfish of me, to want friends who I would only bring down through our friendship. Yet another thing I must hide deep within, another shameful secret to bury. I didn't want to be selfish.

I don't know about you, but one thing I learned from my peers was that belittling yourself was a good thing. If someone complimented you, you would disagree. "You're so pretty." "No, I'm not,", before listing imperfections which proved why the girl in question could not be pretty. Being smart was something I learned to hide early, no one wants to be a "nerd", not even me, who would read at recess and lunch, while walking home, and through the holidays until she was ten or eleven. Even accepting a compliment, in my mind, has come to seem conceited. Even if what is stated is true. It's ridiculous, I know. But from my subconscious observations of others, this is what I put together.

And also, putting yourself down got you assurances. For, even if you thought badly of yourself, if you were wrong others would tell you so. So, even, as I told myself that these reassurances were just what my friends were saying to be nice (After all, they were nice enough to be friends with me, and who on earth could be so nice that they would befriend someone like me?); a small part of me hoped, and wanted to believe that they meant what they said in all honesty, that they were right.

My mum has told me time and time again how I am putting on weight, how if I keep eating the way I do and not exercising, I will end up unable to walk from how fat I am by the age of 20, how fat I am getting, how much I am "expanding", etc. She is always bugging me to exercise.

Why won't I?

For a start, I have never really been good at sports. This makes for being extremely embarrassing for such a shy girl. The public humiliation of always being picked last for a team, of letting down the team, was something I hated. Standing there unwanted, because I wasn't good enough, isn't that enough to make anyone cringe? People tend to either act like they don't care, and play even worse on purpose, or, like me, avoid being placed in such a situation as much as possible. I knew the only way to get better was through practice, but through practice I'd have to play, and I couldn't do that. I have engaged in sports over my primary school life, swimming, tennis, and soccer. But it was worse because my dad was really good at sport, in particular soccer. I wanted to make him proud of me by being like him, good at soccer. I love watching soccer, and playing it. However, for a long time, I didn't want him to see that I was bad at it, as I knew I would be, and so I wouldn't play soccer with him. In year seven I actually did play soccer for the under 13's or 14's girls for school, and it turned out I was a decent defender. It was fun, our team was good, and we won the majority of our games. Come high school and we didn't really have any teams, and I knew I wasn't good enough to play for a club. I was scared to try out since I was scared to be rejected. However, I did organise for my friends and their parents and my dad and people from my church to play soccer most Saturdays for approximately the next two years. It wasn't as skilled, teams were unevenly numbered and sometimes there were barely any people, but it was fun. That eventually petered out.

Reason Two: My mother and I have had a fairly turbulent relationship for most of my adolescent life, just to break the stereotype haha. We argue about a lot of things, but to me, if I exercised, it would mean that she had won. She would know that she had gotten to me, with everything she said. I would have lost. That would never do. So I would lose weight in my own way, and I would be happy and so would she. But I would not let her win. Her telling me about my weight was not going to get to me. It did. But she would only win if she knew how that affected me. I could not allow that.

Why? Why did it matter if she wanted me to exercise? I could have. It shouldn't have mattered who suggested it, when it was the healthy way to go.

I'm still not sure what the reasoning is behind this "not letting her win" thing that I have.

I know she only means well. She wants me to be healthy, and fit, and not overridden with diseases and weak before my old age. She wants me to have the best in life. But, she is blunt in typical Indian manner, and my easily hurt self has been wounded deeply. I am trying to gain self-worth. I am trying to believe that beauty is from within, and that outer beauty doesn't really matter, that it fades anyway. That true beauty comes from the heart and overflows to the outside. A beautiful soul is the most important thing. I know this. But I still can't abandon my foolish fears.

I want to look nice because I want other people to like me. I'm scared that if I don't look nice no one will want to be around me. I know people aren't that shallow, but I need to be accepted so much. It's somewhat irrational.

The End, for now.


Friday, January 16, 2009

Time for Some Maths

Me + the beach = Me in bathers
+ Self Consciousness = very uncomfortable me
+ being convinced that she is overweight = I either don't eat for two days beforehand OR try to make myself throw up

Factor in that the second option is more likely these days due to my lack of discipline, however apparently if you're going to make yourself throw up you should do so within 15 minutes of eating; pretty much nothing occurs.

Except it's gross. And tastes disgusting.

+ I feel horrible afterward for trying to.

Stat: Calc: Enter:

y = Stupid cycle in which nothing much occurs except building up of negativity.


I'm trying to be positive.

I swear. I try so hard.
But I see the pictures of the life you're living without me, and the fun that you're having, without me. And it doesn't matter to you.
And I wish I didn't exist.
You make me feel like I don't.
That I may as well not.
And I want to live.
I want to take hold of life with both hands and live it to the fullest, as fiercely as I can.
But it's hard when you can dismiss me and my attempts to fix things so easily.
When the people who mean the most to me are suddenly absent from my life and I find myself feeling guilty for being able to laugh while this situation stretches on. For being happy even without them. I have the right to be happy without them. But I don't want to let myself.
I always said I couldn't live without you. And when I found out I could, that seemed to me the greatest betrayal I could make. So I set out to prove myself right.
I don't want to live without you, no. I will miss you no matter what. But I want to prove that I will be constantly miserable without you. To who? For what purpose?
Is it really all some kind of pathetic thought that if they see how much I need them they will come back?
I don't know.
I don't know what I'm thinking.

I'm sorry. I know. I've been posting about this several times a week since I began this blog. But it's been in my thoughts every hour of every day for the last five, almost six months. It's not getting much easier for me. They still mean so much to me. And as such, they are something I will continue to write about.


Wednesday, January 14, 2009

I wish the force was real. That when we died we became a part of the Living Force, like how in death our bodies become a part of the earth - "dust to dust", and we return to whence we came...
I'd give myself to the Force in a second, if I could help you. I didn't think of this as the Force in its original sense. More, a magical thing, that would float around you and fill you with peace and happiness, and keep you safe.
I'd love to see you happy.
But after all this time, what can I do to make it better? What words can I say which I haven't said before?
When I can't even verbalise my thoughts about how I feel, how can I verbalise those thoughts in relation to you?
I'd tell you I loved you a thousand times over in every day that I saw you if you could let yourself believe it, but what good's that when I'm half deciding to withdraw from almost everyone (you included)?


In two minds

again. Why is it never that simple? Because in a way, I don't need you. Yes. And yet, in another way, I do too.
It would be nice if I could numb myself to emotions, if I could forget how you may feel. If I didn't want to please everyone and make everyone happy. If I could be as selfish that easily. For a couple of moments at a time, it seems easy. But then I remember.
And I'm flooded with guilt. But I want it both ways.
For that matter, I wish there was no life after death. I wish there was no God. I wish I didn't have to sort through this confusion. But in the end, I would have nothing to fight for if this wasn't true. I want the truth.
But I'm a little too lazy sometimes.
It's not that I don't know what I want. I do, in this case. But I want two completely different things.
And it doesn't help that you make it easier for me to want to let you go every time you unknowingly make things worse. We're all different; thus misunderstandings. And although I try to seem strong, I'm far too easily hurt.


I don't need you, and the truth is...

sometimes, and here I mean "nearly constantly", I don't want you either.
I find myself thinking how much I would love to leave you. I could so easily cut the ties with all of you. And to be honest. I would barely look back. You're just another link to this thing that pains me the most, and if I'd been offered my escape earlier, at a plausible time, I would have gone. Hesitated, yes. But things as they are, I would have gone. I'd call, text, write. Smile and wave when bumping into each other. Out of guilt. Occasionally. As long as I felt I had to. I might even have cried when I left. But I'd let you go.
And it's not that I don't love you. But it would be easier, so much easier. Others I'd miss more than others. Some I'd keep in contact with. I can think of four. But the others, I'd be too busy missing them to have much left over for you. I'd have had a perfect new set up to enter. Keep up the social relations I so desire, and not let any friendship but hers develop to anything as close as before. At least not in which I was the confider.
I'm putting up the walls and that's all there is to it. Wanting to move away from all that has the potential for pain. Tearing out one chapter of my life.
I'd do it if I could.
And I can't even say I'm sorry, because I don't know if I am.
Either way, your forgiveness is not necessary.



i want to grab a carving knife and carve my chest open from the base of my throat to the end of my ribs so that this feeling will finally escape me, before it explodes of its own accordance... How such pressure has not burst through the layers of muscle, bone, and flesh (and whatever else lol); I do not know... It's been 5 months. I'm not missing you any less. SWJRLBRJI. (L)


Monday, January 12, 2009

I fear you the most, more than anything else

I fear you more than death, for you are that which brings fear to death, to the end. The End? That depends on what you choose. And on what is real. I know what I believe about it. And right now, that means it is the end for me. Although an end would be much more merciful.

But this is not about death. Death would be nothing if it didn't factor in you.

How do I explain the mindless terror that strikes as I imagine you? How is it that you  arrive at any time you will, coldly? How are you so inescapable? Is there no sanctuary from your dreadful grasp on my soul? How do you capture me even as I am surrounded by those I am loved by?

You follow me everywhere, closer than a shadow. Sometimes you cloak yourself, hidden for a time, but if I look closely, I can find you right where you were when I last noticed. You are manifest in my dreams. Is there nowhere I am to be rid of you?

Alone, alone, alone. It is a chant that echoes painfully through my heart, resounding in the empty halls of my soul. Its truth rings out undeniably. But how am I alone? How, alone, when I live with other people all around? In the midst of my family and closest friends, at times I still feel it; the loneliness. Like a disease I was born with. So far progressed, it is near impossible to be removed. No matter how many relationships I form with others, the feeling of "alone" still persists. If I search, I understand. Something is missing. Someone, perhaps?

I am unique. There is no one like me. How many times have we all been told that? It seems to be thrown at us endlessly at school, etc. I want to be special, I want to be me. With no one else the same. But how lonely, to be someone who is not understood by anyone else, because of my uniqueness, because of how different we are from each other. If we very completely unique we would all be very alone. And it is not just I who fears being alone. Do not most of us fear this too?

And yet, how terrible would it be to be just the same as everyone else? How boring? That is not a conceivable option either. Not for me.

Thankfully being unique does not entail being that different from each other. The way I see it, every different side of it, every different belief will be the same as at least one other person in the world, apart from perhaps minor details. But no one person will have all the same parts and ideas as another, we all have similarities to different people. I have "this" in common with so and so, and "that" in common with whatshisface. Both she and I think the same about "yada yada" and I share a mutual interest with, that girl, that one, you know...

I love this idea, that we are the same and yet completely different to each other. We think differently, act differently, experience different events, believe different things. But I think if we look closely enough, we could find something in common with us and every other person we meet. We all have emotions. We all have been hurt. We all, once at least, had dreams and ambitions, plans. We all have fears. We all have weaknesses. None of us are perfect. And I believe that in all of us, there is this emptiness, this feeling of "alone" that is crying out to be filled. We may not even realise it, it may lie hidden, but active. We may try to fill it with any number of things.

I believe all of us need relationships to thrive. I believe we all need love. Interaction is something we need. When we are hurt from relationships, we can become bitter and turn away. We can stop believing in love. We can run from love. But why do we do this? Because we have been mistreated by those who are supposed to have loved us, we have loved and not had a reciprocation of this love, we may have lost those who we love. In any case, when we flee from love, it is to avoid pain. But if we don't love, then that pain wouldn't be possible (I did say this recently). Whether we believe in love or not, it is there. Invisible, inaudible; you can't taste it or touch it, you can't smell it. It's indescribable in all it's many forms. And yet, it exists, regardless if you accept that or not.

"There is no greater gift than a place to belong. While it may seem that you're selling out to admit you need people, the irony is that you'll never really know yourself unless you're in a healthy community. We only truly come to know ourselbes in the context of others. The more isolated and disconnected we are, the more shattered and distorted our self-identity. ("Soul Cravings", Erwin Raphael McManus, "Intimacy: Entry #17 - Do You Know Who You Are?", I cannot be bothered with proper referencing kthnxbai)"

How could we know if we are selfish or generous unless around others? How do we know if we are self-centred, or kind to others? Who do we have to care about but ourselves? We are influenced by our families as we grow, we look at other people's values and beliefs about life to see if we find they agree with us, and either take them on board or dismiss them, deciding our own that are different. If we have no one to be different from, than we lose our uniqueness. We just are. Just one. We are the norm. We have nothing to compare and contrast against. We are alone. My soul cringes back at the thought of that.

"When we live outside of healthy community, we not only lose others, but we lose ourselves. ("Soul Cravings", Erwin Raphael McManus, "Intimacy: Entry #17 - Do You Know Who You Are?")"

When we treat each other with value, when we care for each other, when we love, we experience the presence of God. More powerful than any data or doctrine, love is the proof of God our souls long for...

"You cannot live without love, and you do not have to.

Yes, there is an insanity to love. You will go mad in pursuing it.

You will despise life itself if you do not find it.

Your soul craves love and will find satisfaction with nothing less.

You shouldn't be surprise that you look for love, you keep running into God...

Love can't be stopped.

Grief is proof that love prevails over death.

You cannot kill love.

I'm not talking about the pervasive counterfeits we often call love. But the kind that fables like The Princess Bride speak of -'true love'. The kind of love that lasts beyond life, that does not end in death, that fills you when you breathe deeply of it and wounds you when you lose it. Love is the most powerful force in the universe. God is love, and he is everywhere.

Love is the essence of the cosmos. Love is the ethos of God. ("Soul Cravings", Erwin Raphael McManus, "Intimacy: Entry 20 - Like A Kiss on the Face")

I don't want to be alone. I wasn't meant to be alone. None of us were...

So many questions.

Postscript - Apologies to those who dislike discussing love. ;p


At what point does "I don't want to live" become "I want to die"? I've felt the first way before, but never reached the latter.

Make no mistake, they are different.

I'd write more but I'm emotionally exhausted. I may add more later.


Please tell me you missed me even just a fraction of how much I miss you

Just for a while

Tell me you couldn't just let go that easily

at least not at first

Tell me you wished I was there

if only once

Tell me that sometimes it didn't feel right without me

just sometimes

Tell me that it hurt

even a little

but not too much. I want it to hurt but I don't want you to hurt.

But tell me that even though you were happy it felt like something was missing


just a faint gap in what should have been right

Tell me you missed me.


I'm mentally spasming

how does it hurt this much?
it's been almost 5 months...
maybe more
it's almost her birthday
in 19 days!
i never thought this would go on for so long
i can feel it physically
after that last dream, i want to sleep all the time. because it gave me a possible future that i want but don't think is coming...
i feel so unnecessary.

Upload Music Files
Flash Player Codes by mailboxdrive.com


Okay, so I realised this before, but

I find guys who are bisexual attractive...

It seems kinda strange,

but ehh that's okay.

Like, not that I'll find a guy who is bi attractive immediately.

Hmmm. But like I find dark hair more attractive than lighter hair coloured guys...

like i love bright blue eyes, with blond or brown hair (blond is acceptable when with bright blue eyes)

like i love green eyes

like having a hot body

being strong

being jake

the phrase I'm looking for is "turn on".



lol okay, sure. :S


Sunday, January 11, 2009

Oooooodles of Noodles

I love noodles. Really. Chinese food is great. Indian-Chinese is also good. Seriously, in the four year gaps between our visits to India, I draw up from my memory the taste of food from a nearby Chinese restaurant to my nana's home in Pune, India, time and time again. It sustains me as I pass by the days, eating mediocre food. Haha well, not exactly.

And, please, explain to me this fascination with Indian food people seem to have. It's good, but not that good. It delights me to find non-Indians /people from similar countries who dislike or at least don't love Indian food. That's one more person to shove in the face of my parents as evidence that not all others love Indian food and I am not just strange and alone in my non-loving view of it. Or something.

Then, I love 2 minute noodles, noodle cups, and stir fry, etc. Any noodles are good. (:

However, there is a problem when it comes to my eating of noodles...

I am rather uncoordinated. If I was easily embarrassed, I am of no doubt that my face would permanently be a bright red. Although, I'm not too sure if my face actually does turn red when I am embarrassed, since my skin is dark(ish), but... metaphorically speaking...

Anyhow, much laughter is had at my expense, on my side as well. Our sloped driveway has me tripping almost every time I get out of the car, I fall over while simply walking, stumble on nothing, and drop things a lot. As for my phones, they're lucky to survive as long as they do. I believe my mobile comes into abrupt contact with the ground at least twice everyday, no matter how much care I attempt to take. I'm forgetful and easily confused; not to mention incredibly disorganised.

It's not even that I'm disorganised as such. Really. ;P I love organisation. I love matching sets of items.
The problem, you see, is that I am too organised. If something is messy, I want it organised. But I have a specific pattern that things must be in. I will not half organise. I want matching kitchenware, complementary furniture in a room... Matching holders on a desk, rooms with a particular style to them. It drives me absolutely crazy how, in our house, some of the furniture in a room would be appropriate for a country style home, others fitting for a simplistic, modernised set up, yet others casual and comfy in earthy shades; or bright colours; with others formal... the list is endless. I see all the possibilities to theme different rooms, or the same room in different themes. I considered interior designing as a possible future career but I passionately want to have a job where I can help people in important areas, make a difference in people's lives, not their homes.

Okay, our home doesn't clash that terribly, and thank god. I am still irked by the lack of a theme. (And yet, I hate themed parties. Dress up parties, that is. If I had loads of money to go out and create fantastic costumes, they would be fine. As it is, working with my $35 of pocket money per month and added grade money each term [remind me to do really well at school this year!], it is not something that brings great joy to my heart. [I really really want a Star Wars themed party some day, just by the way. I would be Queen Amidala LOL.])

How am I too organised? Well, if I can't organise something perfectly, I refuse to organise it at all. When I clean my room, I haul out everything out from the depths of my wardrobe, dresser, and under my bed. This, firstly, makes my room messier than it is, and is more time consuming. My mum cannot understand it. She says I should do things one at a time, i.e. clean the outer messiness and at another time do all the concealed stuff. But I want to do it all in one shot. And of course, I must take advantage of my mood. When I start doing something, if I leave it unfinished, I am likely to leave it so for a long time.

When the urge to cook attacks, I will make three or more things in one hit. As for cleaning, when that urge comes, I clean everything I can possibly think of. Another point of complaint for my mum. She wants me to cook more, after all, I am sixteen, blah blah. When I do cook, she usually complains that my delectable (or not so) creation is unhealthy... Cleaning? "Good. Now if only you'd do it more often. (Also applies to the cooking scenario)" The woman is impossible to please, I swear.

I like my stationary to be matching and look good. What I write in and what I write with are very important to me. I like the expensive stuff. It's not on purpose, it happens with clothing too. I see it, I like it, I want it, I check the price tag and tend to be somewhat incredulous. I will not spend recklessly, always. Even if I really love something I find, if I find the price ridiculous, I will put it back (reluctantly) on the shelf and move on. Mostly. (Shoes are my biggest weakness. It seems it's a female thing. I fall in love with heels even faster and perhaps more often than I fall literally. Haha, I'm hilarious. >.< I think I've been around Jimit for too long.)

The point is, if something cannot be organised as well as I would like, I deign to organise it at all. Probably not the best way to go about life...

So. Uncoordinated. That's me. Ask my friends to recall a funny moment involving me, and it will either be an incredibly "blonde moment", or a time in which I fell down or off something. Without even trying, at least 5 events come to mind. I shan't go into those now... I was meaning to discuss noodles.

So, the other night, I was eating noodles from a noodle cup. When eating noodles, there are a few minor issues resulting from my lack of coordination which I urgently need to address. Firstly, I am incapable of twirling noodles onto a fork. How is it done??? I try, but as I turn the fork over to add more to the bundle of noodle, the previously twirled noodle untwirls off the fork... Then there is how noodles seem to, while being put on the fork, drag others along with them, so twirling can never be finished, even if successfully done. I suppose I could just cut it, but I'm too fearful that any twirling half accomplished will be completely undone by trying to cut the noodles. So I end up with noodles ends dangling from each side of my fork.

That is not all, folks. The worst is yet to come.

Due to my twirling incapability, I usually just shovel noodles with my fork. Again, this drags other noodles from the bowl or plate with it, and the problem of dangling noodle ends makes an appearance once more. Why do I never actually try to cut it..? Definitely need to consider my options more.

Now, most noodles are accompanied by something liquid - sauce, curry, or the flavoured water in 2 minute noodles. The problem then, is this: when I am eating my noodles of the fork, the dangling ends must enter my mouth eventually. Even if I try to use the fork to bring these up to my lips, they flick. If I don't use a fork here, they flick. They do that. Even if they don't hit my chin and leave my face covered in gook (not that I don't love the "baby-who-has-just-eaten look", however it's not really my thing), liquid tends to fly, onto my shirt, onto the table, etc. I am a) confused, b) grossed out, and c) embarrassed by this.
It's not that I don't understand how it happens, I understand, all too well. But why, why can't I eat like a normal person???

Don't even get me started on what ensues when I eat a yiros. Particularly, that time I ate a yiros when my collarbone was fractured and I couldn't really use my right arm...

Postscript - I said "folks" in this post. I fucking said "folks"...


"This love has taken its toll on me"

Why have I been awake since 5 AM? A dream. A dream so ridiculously realistic I (for the first time) didn't know where I was when I woke. I tried writing about it, but it didn't seem right. So I shall try again later.

Acceptance. I desperately, obviously, pathetically long for acceptance. I thought that was more of a particular need of mine, and the way I go about feeling wanted and needed is most certainly not common to everyone. However, I have been reading a book called "Soul Cravings" by Erwin Raphael McManus. It, essentially, looks at the three things that we as humans desire most, at the core of our beings, and attempt to find throughout life. It looks at our "quest for love, quest for destiny, and a quest for meaning". The part on love, at least, is brilliant.

I have skipped to "meaning" and it's not so great for now. But love. It's amazing how much of what has been writing in this section are ideas I have thought, expressed; or if not, resonated within me as something incredibly true. I have begun to understand just a little more of why I do the things I do.

I am an attention seeker. I know I am, however much I hate it. I don't ask for attention in entirely overt ways, but you can see it in the things I do. I don't want to ask for attention, as such, because that would be beside the point for me. Which point?

I have a desperate need to feel loved, wanted, needed. I hate how needy I am. But doesn't everyone need this, after all? Perhaps they don't feel it so consciously as I, but deep within us all, we desire others to value us. We need to be needed. It validates us. It makes our lives meaningful. Of course, there are other things that also give our lives meaning, and we can't live without meaning either; but relationships are a necessary part of humanity. You can deny it, but we are relational creatures.

We may turn our backs on this need, seek to isolate ourselves from everyone else, saying that we don't need anyone else. But why do we do this? Because we have been hurt by others. Which can only happen when we care about others, when we have relationships with others. When we feel the pain is too much to take, we can easily turn away. But turning away doesn't remove our need for others. We were made to be together, to interact, to love. There is an emptiness that comes from somewhere inside us, when there is something of love we are missing.

We abuse love, mistake love, throw away love, ignore and forget love; but at the end of the day, if we don't have love, what do we have?

"The great danger of giving up on love is that we begin to give in to hate. A place where there is no love is toxic to the soul.

When we love, we are moved toward forgiveness.When we allow hate to take over, we begin to live for vengeance."

A life lived in hatred is not my idea of life. It seems like a life where something essential has died, leaving a blackness, a deadness. Forgiveness is important to me. Not forgiveness in which we continue allow ourselves to be hurt. But forgiveness where we accept what another, or we, have done to ourselves or others, acknowledge the hurt, but let it go. It is one of the hardest things to accomplish, forgiving someone who has truly hurt us. And yet, one of the best things we can do in our lives. Sometimes forgiveness just doesn't come in one hit. And it's not always a one off act. You may need to forgive one act, one person, continually. Every minute, every hour, every day, you may wake up and have to forgive. Letting go of pain doesn't come about that easily. But in the end it is the best course to take.

Love is abused.

"Love isn't about volume. Love isn't about conquest. When we live like this [talking about "womanisers"], there's something deeper going on inside us that we're trying to ignore, even drown out. We are alone, disconnected, and deficient in love. Deep down inside we know we cannot fill the vacuum within our souls by consuming people. We are not only robbing others, we are pillaging our own souls.

Eventually it hits you: you cannot take love; you have to give it. Love is a gift that cannot be stolen".

We crave love, and I can see this in my own life, in the lives of people around me, in the writings of people I don't even know.

"How can you make sense of a person who moves from one relationship to another, making her body the object of another's pleasure of abuse, except to acknowledge the painful reality that human beings fear almost nothing more than being alone [On women in abusive relationships]?"

Love is an endless topic and I have much to say; the idea of such a mixture is somewhat terrifying, but it is 6.53 in the morning and I would like some sleep before church. So there will be a part two, I'm sure you're looking forward to it. ^_^ lol.


Friday, January 9, 2009

"Kill the Messenger,

I swear it's not me, It's just someone I used to know..."

In little over a month and a half, I shall be seeing that song played live

[Soundwave rant, irrelevant unless you live in Australia, and even then, most probably irrelevant lol]

For that matter, I'll be seeing

Jack's Mannequin,
Forever the Sickest Kids,
In Flames,
Houston Calls,
Bedouin Soundclash,
Finch (maybe),
Alice In Chains (maybe),
Billy Talent,
Bloodhound Gang (maybe),
From First to Last (maybe),
Saves the Day (maybe),
Say Anything (maybe),
The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus,
Funeral For A Friend (maybe),
Lacuna Coil,
Madina Lake,
New Found Glory,
Valencia (maybe),
HORSE the Band (maybe),

all live ;D

and more if I decide I like the other bands there (:

Yay for the Soundwave Festival (: (:

I hope none of the bands I like are on at the same time >.<

But the bands I absolutely have to see who will be there would be
Billy Talent, Hellogoodbye, Jack's Mannequin, Anberlin, Forever the Sickest Kids and The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, at this point in time. Houston Calls looks to be being added to that list very soon...

So excited for it.

And because To Write Love On Her Arms will be there (: I hope they will bring merch, I'll def be buying more of their other style tshirts and dog tags etc. (:

In other news, Russell Peters is a hilarious stand up comic (thanks Jef and YouTube); if you're not all politically correct about racism... It's funny, kay? ;P

UPDATE: I just realised the timetable for Soundwave is set up.

It starts at 11AM, finishes 10PM.

So here are the bands I am seeing (:

12PM - 12.30PM - Madina Lake

12.20 - 1 - Finch // 12.30 - 1.10 - Ace Enders [undecided as yet]

1.20 - 2 - JACK'S MANNEQUIN eeee [awww i can't see Alesana or Silverstein >=(]

2.15 - 2.50 - Forever the Sickest Kids (awww miss Saves the Day. Unless I decide I like them better... There's still time ;))

2.50 - 3.25 - Underoath

3.25 - 4 - Anberlin

4 - 4.40 - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus // 4.20 - 5 - Hellogoodbye aghhhh what do i do... Hmmm Ima go with RJA, coz I mean, what if I end up seeing "Will You Go To Prom With Me?"... lol if you haven't heard it, by Hellogoodbye, LOL wut =/

4.40 - 5.20 - Dillinger Escape Plan... maybe. if i don't try to get in to see Hellogoodbye for 20 minutes...

5.20 - AGHHHH. The Bloodhound Gang (-6.05), Alkaline Trio (-6), The Audition (-6), WHAT DO I DO???? lol. I haven't heard that much Bloodhound Gang, but I love one of their songs, but I like the Audition, they're pretty okay --> good... And I am pretty sure Alkaline Trio is great...

OHMYGOD /cries....

6.05 - 7.05 - Billy Talent// 6.20 - 7 - Chiodos// 6.20 - 7- Houston Calls// 6.15 - 6.50 - Lacuna Coil // 6. 20 - 7 - Horse The Band. I love all of these bands... What do I do??? Wahhh, cut out Horse the Band, yeah okay. Even Chiodos. But Billy Talent, Chiodos, Houston Calls or Lacuna Coil... I don't know. Maybe I could even cut out Chiodos. But that's it. What do I do??? /weeps LOL OH WHAT DO I DO????

7.10 - 8.10 - Alice In Chains OR 7.20 - 8 - New Found Glory // Say Anything // From First To Last

8.10 - 8.50 - In Flames. 8.20 - 9 - Face to Face // I Am The Avalanche // Emery

9.20 - 10 - Bedouin Soundclash // Funeral for A Friend // Bayside.

Ugh there's heaps I'll miss...

but that's still about 13 bands... that's pretty good...



"If I am in an audience and feel as though the speaker makes eye contact with me more than others ?
is it in my mind? Seriously, The speaker looks around but sometimes the eye contact is even longer. Could it be because I look very attentive to the speaker and what they're saying? Do they sometimes pick someone out of the crowd to look at more than others or is this a mind thing on my part?"

Bad Questions for Yahoo Answers - For those who believe there's no such thing as a bad question


"Question: Can you rap about me?

I'm 25, 6'3, overweight, I live with my parents, and am broke. My life is a struggle. Can you write a rap about me? Best one wins.

Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo
So my life is struggle, I don't like to juggle
I’m a fatty fat pants, I even eat ants
I’m twenty five, but at this weight who knows why I’m alive
Some wonder why I’m tall, am I even human at all
I never get any calls; I don’t even reach the mall
I always order in, and wonder why everyone’s so thin
I wish I could go out more, but I can’t fit through my door

Parents don’t want me anymore, cleaning up my crumbs is a chore
They want me to live on my own, cause they think I’m too grown
I post stupid questions on yahoo answers, while I’m at the computer eating apetizers

Chorus: (sing to the beat of we fly high by Jim Jones)
I stay broke, no joke, and you notice
twenty five, no lies
I'm alone and
So sad, no plaid


So I was in the middle of writing a post, about He Who Shall Not Be Named (much) in regards to David

I'll post it later, it will be long...

But. I am about to fall asleep, but I just received an email that, if I wasn't so tired, would have my head spinning so fast it would fall off its non-existent axis... In the morning, after I awake, I'm definitely re reading it.
It's from someone I would call a friend, although, there are others who would disagree, and perhaps I am too quick to think of people that way... It seems that way with people at times, but oh well.

So anyway. Tell my former best friend (aka he who I speak of far too much or as called in the title, He Who Shall Not Be Named (much), seriously guys help give me a blog name for him) the things I verbally spew here about him?? /head spins
It would probably be a good idea. I'm afraid that he won't care.
I'm afraid he doesn't even want to be as good friends again, that he is doing a "David", to be explained shortly, in following post, I promise.

He's not David. So he won't necessarily do the same things that David did. But he still may not want to return friendship to where it was, minus the weird hooking up thing we had going on for a while. I know, every one of my friends who knew about it warned me it was a bad idea. Agreed. But I still wanted to.

OKAY I probably did like him. But if so, I could never admit it to myself. And as such I cannot quite come to terms with the idea. And so I will never know if I did. (I did.)

There were flaws in our friendship. But no relationship of any kind is perfect.

Ugh what am I saying? I don't know, really...

Sigh. I have a lot to think about, when such a thing is within my capacity. Perhaps after some sleep. To my email friend, I will most certainly reply as soon as I regain some coherency. And hopefully after having removed the remains of the eyeliner smudged all over my face... Kathleen decided to apply said make up to my face in an extra thick manner and I am terrible with makeup, I forget it's there and rub my eyes etc... Not good.

Goodnight all.


And this is why I banned myself from Myspace

and then couldn't bring myself to go on again for over two weeks.

Every bulletin they post, every time I see their profile, every time I check how far down I have moved on their top friends, every new photo, every detail of their life that I am missing, each of these things are like a kick in the stomach and I feel so sick I could throw up.

Why do I still go on MySpace? I don't even know, anymore.

I loved it.

But now it's just another turning of the knife jammed permanently inside of me.


Wednesday, January 7, 2009

I really need to get the hang of this blogging thing

I wouldn't say I'm doing toooo badly, considering my 26 followers (and 15 on my other blog!), however there is vast room for improvement. My posts are either too short, too long, without enough background information, whiny, sad, repetitive, confused... And to top it off, it's the 7th of January, and I've only posted three times thus far this month!? Usually it's more along the lines of three times a day...

Admittedly I have been away in Melbourne, and out as well a lot, but what I have posted lately anyway has been bland, uninteresting or merely quotes or stories from others... Poor form, poor form.

So, for the new year, I need a new name. For my blog. For the characters in my life on this blog ^_^. And to replace Tovoia ja Elaman!! >.< Something that will represent who I am, without revealing my identity. Then I can go back and alter all posts with his name in it, with anyone else's who could expose who I am lol. Although, reading my posts, after a while you could guess anyway, if you do know me.

I want your help for this, I have requested this before but this time I want ideas! So please, rack your brains and come up with something as I thus far have been unable to do...

I just sent a long email to Michael trying to explain just what my former best friend means to me and what our friendship was like, why I find it so hard to let go.

[Just an aside, my iTunes won't open /grits teeth nervously, stabs keyboard {My iTunes is precious to me, I have it at well over 4000 songs, due to careful nurturing and much Limewire and Torrent downloading; and as for my play counts... /holds protectively]

You know what? This iTunes matter is remotely urgent (of course that makes sense), and I think I'm going to have to restart. But no! I am downloading my iTunes update so I can't even do that for another 30 or so minutes... Sigh.  [My somewhat excessive downloading may or may not have lowered our broadband connection to dial up speed... again.]

I just recalled that I have Maths tuition homework I really should be doing rather than blogging. But it has been a long time since I have truly posted, I can't stop myself now... So I'll switch to Windows Media Player temporarily to continue listening to Bloodhound Gang (Ain't My Job on repeat, specifically; it amuses me), and console myself in regards to lost play counts with the thought that at least it will scrobble to Last.fm... And continue to ramble until Kathleen gets here.

Really, rambling is what I do best. I could write / talk for hours on a completely nonsensical topic and not run out of words. Which is a little unfortunate for any readers/listeners. Ah well.

I finally got my hair cut on the 30th,  I like it (: It's all choppy from the layers, just past my shoulders. I have black hair for those of you who don't know, and although I do now have to straighten it every day, it looks good ^_^ I might put a picture up when I have a good one, albeit temporarily. I also sometimes add a bright blue hair extension to my hair, that you can see under my layers, I won't try to explain as you may get a terrifying image in your minds, but again, a picture can assist. Temporarily.

Got my Learner's license today; the actual card. I don't look aaas bad as I thought I would, considering I thought the picture had already been taken and started to move, and my hair's kinda weird looking there (pre-haircut).

So, anyway, back to my email to Michael. Trying to describe my friend, I find myself lost in memories of him, of us. Can I ever really explain to anyone else what he was like, everything necessary to have a full idea of him? Would anyone ever be able to see him in the same way I do? I wanted to portray everything that could explain who he is, and what our friendship was.

He started talking to me now, and we had a brief conversation about Does It Offend You, Yeah? (band). Now, as it seems doomed to always be, our conversation is dead. I can't think of anything to say. Does he even want us to be as good friends as we were before? That is what I want to know more than anything, apart from "did / does he miss me at all???"

My self esteem is still better than ever before, to stop cutting myself, for me (!), what an incredible thing. I am still amazed at the thought of it, and yet, I did it, and continue to do so. It is hard. I come very close to breaking sometimes. But I'm still doing it. I'm pretty proud of myself for that. /embarrassed smile

But. Of course there was a 'but' coming. ;P With three of my best friends gone from my life, that leaves me with a lot of questions. I have already asked some of you these, but for the rest of you, "Did you miss me, at all??? Was it that easy to remove me from your lives, to replace me with each other, with others?? Am I that replaceable, that unneeded, that unnecessary??? Do you not even want me? Am I that expendable?" My head tells me no, even my heart kinda tells me no, but there's still that doubt. I feel like a child who is hurt and confused and yeah...

Anyway, Kathleen is here.

Ramblings can continue later (:


"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings."

Anais Nin


Friday, January 2, 2009

Hello 2009

So it's a new year. I want it to feel different. I want to feel different. We're in a different state but it could be just another day in 2008. And yesterday, it was. Maybe the day before actually, is it past 12? I can't be bothered checking the time, but probably.
I've never been incredibly keen on birthdays. But one thing I really hate is how it never feels any different. Perhaps I place too much stock on feelings. And yet, every year, on my birthday, when some adult jovially says, "It doesn't feel any different, does it?", I reply with "no", because I never expected to feel any different, it's just another day, I'm just another day older than the year before. But I still wish something would change. Sure, things do change. Hit sixteen in Australia and you can apply for your Learner's License. Seventeen and you can legally have sex. Eighteen and you can buy alcohol, must vote, and would be tried as an adult in a court of law. According to law, you are an adult at eighteen. But who is the law to say?
Different people reach the point of maturity people would call adulthood at different times. Some may never even reach it. But years, ages, they're all just numbers, that essentially, don't really mean that much.
I woke up today and I still have the same feelings, I still miss my best friends and want them back, I still worry about my sister and want her to be happy and instead see her desperately sad; and feel helpless knowing that I can't do anything to help, hoping time will help, and less time rather than more, but knowing that with her self value, time may make it worse (post on that coming soon); I still know that I am selfish in too many ways, I still determine to change that each morning but forget in the space of a few minutes, I still hate my weight, I still try to decide if I like what I see in the mirror, I still get angry at mum and lose my temper too easily... So much is the same but I guess the idea of the New Year is that a new time has begun, an ending of the period before, when really, time continues on endlessly, relentlessly; and as such a new chance has presented itself for us. To make better on the time gone, to move past our mistakes, to go forward. Is that what the New Year is for?
Keeping times and dates is all well and good, we mark the events in our lives by these things, but if we allow ourselves to be ruled by the clock, then that is something I feel is somewhat wrong. We should note time, appreciate time, understand that we have a time to fit everything in, that we do not last forever, but I think if we rush to fit things into a schedule just to get everything done within a time frame, then we can make a great mistake. Don't get me wrong, schedules are a good idea, for work and such; but if we try to plan our personal lives in a way that we must cram family and people into spaces that are left by the essentials such as work and sleep, we can end up just trying to allot them a slice of our time, so that this becomes more of another task on our organiser, something we do so we know it has been done and we have fulfilled our duty.
I'm talking crap again, I know, what I'm saying again doesn't make all that much sense, confused with several different ideas together. Sorry, I get like this when I'm tired. Ignore the previous paragraph pl0x (:
Anyway, I wish you all a Happy New Year (I think for the second time?), and that it may be safe, happy and that you may grow and love and laugh and live, and only be bettered by years to come. (: Thanks to all the followers of my blog, this and the other, at the moment known as "Head In The Clouds". Thanks to everyone who has commented and to all you other bloggers out there who's blogs I have been blessed with reading.
Congratulations to That Damn Expat on your wedding on New Year's Eve, and a shout out here to Michael Rivera who has been most caring and supportive and not to mention a wonderful blogger whose posts I always eagerly read even when I fail miserably at commenting them, although I have things to say in response to most of his posts. Which reminds me Michael, your "2008 in review" post which I forget the actual name of, was great and I will comment it and your more recent posts soon, I promise! I am hoping that we will become good friends, I think the beginnings have definitely been sown (:
Yet another mention for Diary of an Old Fart", great blog, thank you so much for this gift to the blogging world, Mulled Vine (:
Anyway, to bed I must go, seven o' clock morning tomorrow. Some market or something. (I'm in Melbourne with my aunt's family at the moment)
night, xx


Thursday, January 1, 2009


I've mentioned Soundwave before, it's a new music festival in Australia with a bunch of alternative / metal bands that are all really good in my opinion. Jack's Mannequin is newly added to the lineup, and I just found out Forever the Sickest Kids are too.


I just found out, I think Jamie and a couple other TWLOHA people are coming down, in their 2008 review blog; they said they're coming back down to Australia for all the Soundwave shows.

Now, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go. But if they're coming, there is no way I'm not!!!!


You have no idea how much I would love to meet Jamie or anyone from TWLOHA. Insanely excited. Plus so much good music.

Now I just need $130... lol

And of course, HAPPY NEW YEAR everyone (: Hopefully it will be better than 2008 (: