And Cinderella lost her shoe

2011-11-14T00:10:00.001+10:30

I just want you to know that I miss following all of your blogs and keeping up to date with your lives and your words and I miss interacting with all of you.

Where I'm at these days.

2011-11-13T23:59:00.002+10:30

Hi guys,

I just wanted to let you know that if any of you use Tumblr, my url is jasabela.tumblr.com

Hopefully I'll be changing that URL soon, but that's it for now. I have unfortunately subscribed to the more instantly gratifying blogging (if you can call it that) of Tumblr, but perhaps over the holidays I may post again. You never know.

P.S. You can find me on Good Reads at goodreads.com/laryissa

Fistula...

2010-11-15T23:41:00.003+10:30

I know I never post anymore, but if you happen to see this, please read it. It's such a horrible thing to imagine and if you can help, at least in spreading the word, repost this. There's a link to donate at the end of the post.

"A fistula happens during birth when a baby’s head puts too much pressure on a mother’s maternal tissues. With the blood supply cut off, the tissue dies and a hole forms – a fistula. The fistula causes urine and faeces to leak uncontrollably.

And in the poorest places, a lack of medical services and maternal health care mean that more than 2 million young women and girls go untreated.

Without treatment, these women are often left isolated, rejected and ashamed.

You can bring comfort and care to some of the world’s most vulnerable women and stop the horror of fistula.

Every minute, 30 women are injured or disabled by birthing injuries. And nearly 100,000 women every year suffer from the horror of fistula.

Dorotea's Story

Dorotea was about to become a Mum.

But what should have been the happiest time in Dorotea’s life suddenly became a nightmare.

After a four-day unassisted labour on the floor of her hut in Tanzania, Dorotea finally gave birth to a girl. But she wasn’t breathing.

Just two days later, still grieving the loss of her child, Dorotea began leaking urine and faeces uncontrollably.

Complications during birth had caused massive tearing, and without help,
Dorotea had developed a fistula.

Dorotea was abandoned by her husband because of the smell and rejected by her community.

As you can imagine, she was too frightened to leave her hut during the day.

Confused and all alone, she fled her home under the veil of darkness in search of help. But sadly, there was none to be found and she returned home a broken woman.

For a staggering 19 years, Dorotea suffered with the shame and isolation of fistula before she was found by CBM’s field workers and taken to hospital. Doctors performed a delicate surgery, repairing the hole and restoring Dorotea’s fullness of life.

But there are thousands of women just like Dorotea who really need your help."

Here to find out more and / or donate

The organisation are openly Christian but regardless of your belief I just don't think this has anything to do with supporting a religion, it's about helping these women and I feel like this is such a worthy cause to help out, irrespective of the organisation's origins.

2010-05-09T20:19:00.001+09:30

Call me stupid, but I want to marry him.

2010-01-14T11:13:00.002+10:30

Well, that one step last night back into blogging has me all fired up, ready to write stories and further posts as fast as I can. Unfortunately I have a lot to do, so this will be quick. Just quickly scanning others' blogs, just the accomplishment of a finished post, having sat down to write something... I had forgotten what it feels like. Honestly? I feel alive. I'm so energised to write, it's amazing. Apart from looking after Lingu and trying to keep us afloat, there hasn't been much I have been deeply involved in. But writing was my first love and I feel so right returning. I cannot wait for this. Thanks so much to all of you who do read this blog and especially those of you who leave comments. It means a lot. I may be a bit rusty with words but I'm willing to work on it, as much as possible. Please keep coming back.

Lots of love,
Toivoa.

'But still we'll say, "remember when"...'

2010-01-13T19:20:00.008+10:30

That said, here's a real post, not another one of those "I'm planning to post regularly again, really" pieces I've been throwing out for the past few months. Feel free to unfollow me.

The ex ex best friend, as I so imaginatively dubbed her earlier. Remember her?

Well, there is so much I have to tell you, as I have mentioned in earlier posts, only about a hundred times, and this is not at all what I was planning to start with. There is so much to tell you about - the Psycho, my best friend Jamie, the ex best friend JRLB and how things are with him now... and other people I haven't made up poorly thought out nicknames or fake names for yet. I have to tell you about my boyfriend Chip/Lingu and how things are with his heart, as well as some of his unfortunate, awkward, but extremely entertaining encounters. Then there's the end of school, formal, my final score and my plans for this year. I want to hear more from you about my relationship with Lingu and therefore, I want you to know more about it... if you can take the reading.

But no, none of that. Let's begin with 'Cynta'. It is important, after all. And for those of you who know us personally, perhaps surprising, or shocking, even.

Until the day I die
I'll spill my heart for you,
Until the day I die
I'll spill my heart for you

Cynta, as you may recall, was my closest friend for over two years, a while back. This transcends 'best friends', it was on a far deeper, inexplicable level. We had a connection and an understanding of each other that I could never recreate with another. Lingu and I are so increcible close, and no, no one has ever known me so well,but he is far more than a friend, and so it is different. Cynta and I were young, a little too inflexible at times to quite understand the perspective of one another, even if we knew what it was. She, the logical, factual one, and I, the erratic, emotional one. She loved maths, I, writing. Our decisions followed this pattern. It was that sort of thing. She was the first friend to know and have to deal with my self harm.

As years go by
I race the clock with you
But if you died right now
You know that I'd die to
I'd die too

We shared a lot. I could spend forever attempting to explain it, but we found something in our friendship that we had never experienced before, and it sustained us and actually taught s a new meaning and possibility in friendship. Too much? It may sound ridiculous and overstated, but it was all that. More. If you've had a friendship of a similar nature, you will understand what I mean.

You remind me of the times
When I knew who I was
But still the second hand will catch us
Like it always does.

Well, this was intended to be a brief summary... I need to work on 'concise'. Bear with me.

So anyway, I thought I had outgrown her, that I was bored with her and I didn't even need her anymore. There were a series of things that led to this, but a lot of the reason why is a mystery to me. So what began is something I am not proud of. I turned on her, the dearest person in my life, and betrayed her with a cruelty that I can scarcely believe I am capable of... and that I was and probably still I am is scary and horrifying. I hurt her like only someone that close to you can, as an unjustified hatred toward her formed and I grew ever more angry at her... I found her pathetic, using everything I could to try to destroy her further... It makes me sick to remember all that I said to her. And yet, if I was completely honest, underneath all the irrational anger was a horror at what she was going through... because of me... And sometimes that broke me. Considering all that happened in those few months after the worst of my attacks were over, I was trying to convince myself that I was okay without her, realising that I had severed myself from something precious. And what followed in those months is something I have never told anyone. Sure, it is partly embarrassment, but partly an inability to even correctly recall those events. My mind blocks such things, and I have never told anyone about it, ever. I broke down like after the loss of my friendships with Little Miss Sunshine and Rainbow Brite... and I am only realising this in that sense as I type this...

We'll make the same mistakes
I'll take the fall for you
I hope you need this now
'cause I know I still do.

That I reacted that way, not perhaps just because of what happened but because, although I had many good, close, best friends left, I had left a friendship that, after all, did still mean a lot... And I caused it, awfully. I cringe at what I did. It was horrible and inhumane and I know what I did and saying "I'm not proud of it" does not cover my regret. Yet I cannot bring myself to say I wish it did not happen. We are what we are because of it, and although I wish I was not so cruel, so... sadistic, even, it is in the past. There is no point, nor logic, in "should have"s, or "could have"s, and she knows what I mean. We are very different people now...

Should I bite my tongue
Until blood soaks my shirt?
We'll never fall apart
so Tell me why this hurts so much

But that connection between has never been completely cut. Something I could not admit for a very long time, even once my anger had cooled and we were in the ignoring stage, is that I still love her... Not something I feel with intensity as with most friends, or much emotion. But it is something I know and refuse to ignore any more. We were that kind of friends. And that doesn't die easily.

My hands are at your throat
And I think I hate you
But still we'll say, "remember when"
Just like we always do, just like we always do

After a couple of years, we slowly began to talk again. And we would still spend hours on the phone and tell each other things we would not share easily with others, closer friends. It shocked me, how we still had that. How we somehow still had retained trust in each other. I did not deserve it. I had brutally betrayed that trust. But we could not help ourselves. And slowly, slowly, we have begun to talk more. We laugh together. We have helped each other. I have talked to her when I was in a lot of trouble and desperately in need of help, and she was the only one I could see being able. And we talk, now.

I think we might even, almost, call ourselves friends...

Until the day I die
I'll spill my heart for you
Until the day I die
I'll spill my heart for you.

A bit of repetition never hurt

2010-01-13T18:44:00.005+10:30

I managed to let us slip into the New Year before my promised regular postings. So here's hoping this is the first of those. Oh, and Happy New Year. :)

To tell the truth, so much has happened that I do not even know where to start. And not having written in months, every time I sit down to put pen to paper, it all seems too difficult and I quickly give up after one terrible sentence or so. A full sentence may even be giving myself too much credit, unfortunately...

Halfway through last year I began to actually write out my blog posts to later type up. It's just nicer seeing my thoughts in ink, before visible electronically. I'm one of those romantic, somewhat old fashioned people who long for the yesteryear and cleave to the idea that a letter is far better than an email, a book preferable to a PDF file or "e-book" in any form, a purchased CD far more enjoyable than download tracks, legally acquired or otherwise. Considering CDs as clinging to the old may seem laughable, but with MP3 players and the like, it's not really cutting edge technology anymore, and I was sadly not around for records. Although I'd love to buy an old gramophone and begin a collection. But that could not be more irrelevant.

I delight in old, heritage buildings and the smell of quiet, almost forgotten library rooms with book lined walls and wooden furniture. And I'm the kind of person who wants to remember everything. My room and cupboard are filled with so many different, useless objects that I have gained and kept over the years. I still have notes that my friends and I exchanged in primary school, and other prior mementos. I have kept a diary, rather sporadically at times, for a large portion of my life, and with the creation of a Live Journal account, moved onto that as a replacement. I later discovered Blogger, thanks to a friend, and I love it.

No, it's not as great as a personal journal, since there are some aspects of my life and those who are a part of it that I cannot reveal on this public forum. But while blogging requires the recording of my thoughts in a more structured form, the comments have been great; the friends I have made, and seeing the interest others have in my writing and even my thoughts have all been very encouraging and supportive. It's been good practice at writing and I don't plan on giving it up anytime soon. I'm hoping to begin writing creatively again on "Head in the Clouds".

Cinderella may have lost her shoe, but there is so much more to the story.

2009-12-07T13:41:00.002+10:30

I have been terribly remiss. I have not posted in ages. It's been harder than I had expected to forge a return to any kind of writing at this time. Even email conversations with friends that grow lengthy can be a difficulty to reply o. Not to mention, I'm always so tired. But now I must come back.

I miss blogging and all the wonderful people I communicate with through it. I love writing regularly, even if in a personal way. And writing has always been a comfort to me. So, especially in this echausting time, although events would conspire to drain my time, I must find a few minutes to write it out.

I have a lot to tell you. Final exams are done, gradation gone, and formal over. Significant developments in friendships have occurred, and tragedy seems all around. I don't believe that to be an over dramatising of what has happened. We shall see.

So expect proper posts soon. :)

2009-11-06T10:53:00.002+10:30

There's something that I have been turning over in my mind for almost all of this year. I do not feel free to discuss it because it directly involves some of those who I know read my blog. There is another topic I cannot write about on this blog since I do not feel comfortable talking about it with these same people being able to read it.
Oh, but I'm dying to tell you everything.

2009-11-03T00:01:00.003+10:30

I haven't posted in forever, have been studying for final exams, which have just begun.
I can't sleep.
I'm trying to be healthy and get enough sleep and eat right. All of that.
I hate the turbulence that Chip's heart problem brings, to his life, and our relationship. I don't think I can handle it much longer. I am not going to break up with him, no, never. Never because of that. Never for any reason, hopefully... but more on that later.
I just, what with him and so much wrong in other people's lives around me... I am forever on the edge of tears. I am not letting him go, but I am scared that I will have some sort of breakdown and not be able to handle anything. And really, I'm still getting better from myself.
I hate how his heart leads to either or both of us growing angry or upset at various times. I am not frustrated at him, no, never. But with myself, my inability to help him, my inability to deal with it. My inability to deal with myself.
You know what sucks? He has been getting better, but it still finds a way to creep into everything. And now, with the beginning of summer, we are realising that the heat, the fucking heat, causes him to hurt. Fuck this.
This is a terrible post, please bear with me.
I love how close we are, how strong we are together, I love him and who he is. I think we are, at the moment, far too dependent on each other, however. I don't know. And I hate the way I continue to suppress my conscience on some matters which are actually fundamental to me. I know he will agree with me but I don't want to bring it up with him.
I'm sick of the way everything just is. I'm sick of not being able to sleep, knowing that his presence would calm me down so that I could. But we are not allowed that. I just want to fall asleep with him again, so that just one more time I can fall asleep quickly and easily and happily, and sleep feeling safe and loved. I loved that.
I miss our August.
And that way I could know if he was hurting, and it made it more okay, because I could be there with him throughout. I cannot stand him being in pain. But his pain unchecked when he is alone...
I am scared he will die. He is my best friend. If anything happened...
I know I could not cope with that. I know several people who could not cope with that at all.
I have so much to explain to you all.
Soon. When exams are over.

"Ending Unplanned"

2009-09-30T17:11:00.002+09:30

I wanna feel alive. More alive than I have ever felt before. So I feel it flooding through my veins.

I wanna feel every touch, every taste, wanna hear every sound more clearly than I ever have before.

I want to love without inhibition. [Everyone, feel free to start singing Natasha Bedingfield now ;)] I want to throw caution to the wind, and cynicism out the door.

I want to live.

And I'm not ashamed of these scars, for they made me who I am.

But they are not “the end”, they are not the “all”. They’re just a part of my story. Just like you. And every moment is a part, and I don’t want to waste them anymore. I am writing my story, and it may not be a best seller. Maybe the main character puts herself through too much needless strife, and finds herself lost time and time again. Maybe she forgets to give her all and maybe she’s not the heroine when she should be. Maybe she makes mistakes, and maybe she’s clumsy (and not in a vapid Bella Swan way) and maybe she runs from reality.

There may not even be a happy ending, but it will be a story nonetheless. My story. And I’m going to live it, and I’m going to tell it. It may not sell, not one copy, but it’s my life, and I promise you, I will make it worth it.

2009-09-16T00:10:00.002+09:30

I'm not really up to posting full blog posts at the moment, either through lack of time or just general state of mine, so you can find me mainly at http://jasabela.tumblr.com right now, and no, i cannot even be bothered putting in a proper link. I wish I could at least know what to say, even if I can't take other people's problems. And trust me, I would take as many as possible, if i could. But I don't even know what to say. I don't even know what to say.

This doesn't make for entertaining reading.

2009-09-14T20:11:00.004+09:30

It's just an update, since I've been word vomiting on here for a while.

Chip called me the other night and I was upset over something else which I'd rather not go into, so I had missed all the signs that he was in pain when we were emailing each other prior. I almost didn't pick up because to be honest I was a little mad at him. We both were frustrated and took it out on each other. But I'm so glad that after about the fifth or sixth call, I did pick up. He was hurting pretty badly, and I didn't know what to do because I wasn't there and I couldn't hold him. I rambled on about stuff. But in the first quarter of an hour, I had to ask him if he could call me back in five minutes. Make that three. I didn't want to spend that long away from him but I couldn't even control my breathing as I listened to his painful, tortured intake of air. So I hung up, bawled for a few minutes, and composed myself before he called back. Got a drink of water, which was my excuse. Carried on as before, trying to act normal, curling my toes and trying to sound calm as I kept myself from further tears. It hurts to see him like this. Hurts more to hear him this way, because I can't help as I can when I'm with him.
The next day, after talking, he promised to see a doctor, and was prescribed strong painkillers and sleeping pills. Last night he took them and managed about four or five hours of sleep. It's scary that that's a good thing. Better than fifteen minutes though. Hopefully we'll get there, although he's really worried about the possibility of suffering mild depression and/or anxiety as a result, which the doctor warned him may occur. I hope not because then he'll stop taking the tablets and will stop sleeping again...

As for other aspects of life, they're doing okay. I know he and his heart are all I've been blogging about, and I'm sorry, but it's kinda been uppermost in my thoughts and that, of course, is what this blog reflects.

Proper post soon.

2009-09-10T18:18:00.003+09:30

ican'ttakethis
i can't take this.

I can't bear to see him in so much pain. He's always been the happy, optimistic one. The focused one, the good kid who never fights with his parents.

I can't stand to see him hurting so bad, and emotionally as well.

I can't write properly.

I can't stand how things are for him, I want to make it all better. I can't.

I just want you to be okay.

It hurts so much to see you like this, to see you going through this. Every time I think of you, I am barely from tears. I love you so much. I need you to be okay. You have to be okay.

Through the Looking Glass

2009-09-09T20:03:00.001+09:30

Check out this photo shoot.

If Alice were to go to Waterland...

2009-09-08T22:33:00.002+09:30

i no longer remember what it means to not be tired anymore. i no longer remember what a clear mind feels like. what does success taste like? what is that feeling of accomplishment? i may not be a failure but right now, i am failing at life and school something hardcore.

"Let's Drive Until We Crash This Dead End Life"

2009-09-08T09:41:00.005+09:30

I'd like to take a rain check on life. Hit that pause button for me, will you? Maybe when we start spinning this record again I can stop it from skipping. Don't even know how to jump start a car, how the hell do I jump start my life? You might say my mother and the doctors did that for me over seventeen years ago, well then I'm still trying to learn how to drive. Cliché after cliché but then they say it as well as my own words more than half the time anyway. Basically I know I'm fucking up but it's like I'm in a tailspin and can't pull up, could you help me if I had a Mayday Parade? Seems like that's my life these days, incorporating lyrics, book, movie quotes and band names into everyday conversation, lines from advertisements when i "hate watching TV" and speaking like my boyfriend. Spent hours on the phone last night not really listening, picturing blood everywhere instead, smeared on the walls. Pictured cutting all up my body from above my ankles to the base of my neck, as much as possible, and in detail. When I finally stopped, began to talk, because he wouldn't leave - he knew there was something - I tried to explain with words that I missed the exhilaration, and the way that despite ourselves, we become competitive and how his talking about Rachel has got me wanting more more more, why didn't I do more? I couldn't now, not to myself nor to them but some times I wish I could go back to when I could reduce my world to blood and pain and the next cut, to how deep I could go and how much. These days I'd look for the same thing in a bottle, and some days I just wanna get trashed so bad, just so I can forget, for a while. Is it obvious I can't cope? I'm not quite ready to be independent and last night I wondered if I cut myself till I collapsed on the floor, if I was found by morning still alive, when I got out of hospital could mum then let me see her again, the counsellor who was amazing when I was so skeptical although ready for something like that. Don't even know what it means to get by on my own and I know that makes me pathetic. I have such hopes but I can't see them through, I can't put in what I need to and it hurts more than anything to see your disappointment, when we all know I could do so much better. I'm a mess and I can't stand it.

Post title later.

2009-09-07T13:37:00.006+09:30

"It could be life threatening."

How do I explain what went through me at those whispered words, sounded so slowly, so carefully?

I didn't panic, I didn't go cold. I didn't quite stop breathing. My chest didn't quite constrict, but rather, it felt like something fell out of place inside me. And thoughts leapt into my mind, but they were merely conscious thoughts of usually subconscious actions. I felt my brain's instructions to breathe, for my heart to pump, to process this information. I remained very still, my face pressed close against his to hear each word. I think there was a small part of me that immediately starting screaming but it was boxed away so tightly, before it even began, that I felt no panic. But it was as though the world had suddenly become dreadfully wrong.

My boyfriend has a serious heart problem. It causes him an incredible uncontrollable amount of pain at times. Thus far the doctors don't know what it is. The results from tests he took on Friday may show what it is. It may be life threatening. And if not, well they still won't know what it is.

I can't describe to you what it is like to see him go through so much pain. To have to hold my face straight and stop those tears. I can't make it more painful for him. Some times at night his mum hears him and goes to comfort him. Some times she cries. I save my tears for myself. It is the least I can do. Not that I blame his mum, having to see her child go through that.

Do you know what scares the shit out of me? Honestly, that the worst I have seen, is nowhere near as bad as it does get. So bad that as I found out on Friday night, he has tried various things to stop it. He has stopped eating for three days straight, he has tried punching himself in the heart when it happens and finally, he began to use a hammer to hit himself in the back of the head, just to distract himself from the pain. I could barely stop the cry that wanted to escape my mouth as he told me this, because I understand why he does it, because the pain is so bad. But it hurts so much to know he is resorting to this. It is the reason for all his headaches lately. He hasn't done it in a while though, thank God. But I don't even know which is worse, him doing that, or trying to deal with such excruciating pain. It tears me apart, all I want is to make it stop. I would take it myself, if I could. I would take it all and I would not regret that for a second.

But I can't

And that only makes it more painful to watch. How do parents, family members go through these things, knowing they would give their lives, they would do anything to prevent their loved one from suffering, but they cannot? That all they can do is wait, and watch, and pray, and hope. Hold, comfort, wipe tears.

Not that I've seen Jimit cry. He wouldn't cry over this. He can't even remember the last time he properly cried. But the last time he shed a tear was over his baby cousin going in for heart surgery. I love that his heart is for others, I love that he would get in a fight with a guy in order to defend his self harming friend who descended into such darkness because of the dickhead messing with her emotions in the most terrible ways. In order to protect another of his friends from falling into his sadistic trap.

I'm glad that I help his pain by being there, holding him through it, holding him as tight as I can even when he tries to push me away because a part of him is scared he will hurt me. I'm glad that in his sleep I can calm it down so it doesn't hurt anymore, and I wish I could do that whilst he is awake.

I love how recently, when he is asleep, a part of him talks to me, and tells me these things, and converses with me, as strange as it is. It's just another part of our relationship, which is already full of random things. And that's why I love 'us'.

I love how he talks to me about my own time of hurting myself, I love how sometimes he kisses my scars as though he is trying to take away all the pain I ever felt, and I am glad that in some way I make his pain less. I just wish I could do it all the time.

And right now, I am so scared.

Any minute now, he will call me. And then I will know if it is life threating or not.

Even if it's not, what do we do?

It's six minutes past 3:30. And a part of me is terrified that he's late calling because it is bad news.

iloveyousomuch

2009-09-03T19:21:00.002+09:30

Sometimes, I suck.

In which I attempt to crack the Lameness scale

2009-09-02T00:52:00.004+09:30

I have a confession. I kinda hope Chip will end up being the man I marry.

It's ridiculous. I can't imagine ever being married to him. He's Indian! That's not the real reason, of course. That he is Indian provides us with the fact that his family background and thus upbringing is so similar to mine that adds to what we can relate on and brings us closer together. There are things that you can only understand if you are growing up in another culture so different to that whence your parents came.

The small ways in which he doesn't understand me that are of huge significance are a contribution. Considering this, he can read my most subtle face expressions with a scary degree of accuracy, pinpointing exactly what is happening in my mind. A faraway look and combined with his knowledge of my life and the situation and he can work out that I am missing the exbestfriend. There is more, much more, but how can I explain it all?

There are various little things that make me certain I could never spend my whole life with him.

And yet...

He sets a high standard. I can't detail the numerous little things he does that make me realise how much he cares about me; the way he texts me twice daily to remind me to take my vitamins, the way he kisses my scars like he wants to take away all the pain I've ever felt. The way he was so happy at my one year anniversary of ending the self harm. The way he talks to me in depth about it and holds my face in the dark to make sure I'm not crying when I remember the way my parents reacted. How, when I get upset because I'm convinced I am a bad girlfriend, he laughs at the idea like its the most ridiculous thing in the world and proceeds to assure me.

I love that even if he has just picked me up for the night and he is perfectly awake, when he sees that I am exhausted, urges me to sleep and rest, and just holds me as I sleep, for hours. I love that he thinks I am beautiful, with clothes on, and how whenever I get shy or awkward he just laughs and tells me he loves me without any frustration.

I love that he wants to spend as much time with me as he can and that he trusts me, I love his strong stance against cheating and the way he talks about me to randoms when he's not with me. I love the way he calls me when he's drunk, and the way he makes me do my homework.

I love how even when he is in excruciating pain due to an unknown problem with his heart, he is most concerned about accidentally hurting me, and the way that I actually make it stop sooner and usually hurt less, just by being around.

I love that last time I saw him, he talked to me while he was sleeping, and in pain in his sleep, I could make him stop hurting just by whispering soothing words. I love the way he tries to make light of how serious the pain is, but told me in his sleep. And the way that even in his sleep, he kept whispering "I love you so much".

Through all my terrible mood swings of late when I grow incredibly self destructive and almost break up with him for the sake of causing myself pain, when I yell at him and cry and am cranky and upset and terrible to be around, he stays to talk me through it, and will come get me if he can. I love how he makes me feel better and how he's just as happy to spend hours talking as making out.

There are a million and one things he does that continually raise my ability to value myself, not too much, but closer to enough; and reassure me that somehow, I am worthy of being loved. To have someone put up so well with all the crap I put them through, and still love me as much; and for all the important matters on which we think the same, I wonder, can I find something this amazing with someone else that will last the years?

I hope so.

The Lost Hours

2009-09-01T02:35:00.002+09:30

You know, I have a couple of topics to blog about, simply from this Monday past. It being 2:36AM on the following Tuesday, though, combined with two hours of sleep on Sunday night, all that I can focus on acutely is that heady feeling of being the only person awake right now. Of course, this is not the reality; in fact, many of you are going about in the daytime now, but here and now, in this silence, these electric lights and nighttime cool, it feels as though I've managed to find something no one else has; I have stayed up and hence discovered a secret, a special time that I, singularly, have broken into.

I know I have homework pending but that doesn't seem to matter. My brain passes over various memories, those that would usually be euphoric and intense reduced to a mere glossy fascination. This is a world of casual indifference, an inability to concentrate or process thought properly (thank you, sleep deprivation), but my, does it feel good. In that vague, secretive air this moment holds.

The sounds of a house creaking, occasional passing cars, humming of fridges and the deadness of it all - it all combines to create this deafening cacophony of near silence, which only rises to unbearable heights if focused on, till it feels as though one's ears are suffocating, the target of an immense pressure, not as when lifting off in a plane but frightening for its lack of logic. But then, sense has no place here, in this lost hour.

From under heavy lids refusing to acknowledge or bow, the view is different too. There is a dreaminess about it, perhaps the brain taking longer to recognise what it sees. A surreal aspect attaches itself to every normal sight, however familiar. Everything sunken in false yellow light, deeper pools of shadows than usual, sallow and aged, but not tired. No. More... used, like old books that have seen many a turning of a page.

It is the cold that cuts through, adding a dash of reality. Slicing through everything else, it is the unwelcome visitor to this time, and yet, it provides further that sense of "topsy turvy", a more sober Wonderland, at which Alice never quite arrived. Sending chills through the body in occasional waves, lapping gently but startlingly. And always, that pervading feeling of night, that darkness that persists even with these man made lights.

Nature has a way of penetrating everything. Man-made or otherwise; everywhere. A tendril creeps in, grabs hold, its lurking presence faint but definite. Our light cannot defy the night, not truly and after all, that is the way it should be.

In this, these lost hours, I feel as though being alone is not so close to being lonely. And perhaps that is the best gift of all.

MLIG

2009-08-30T19:28:00.015+09:30

Honestly, why haven't I been around?

Firstly, let me say that I've missed it, this whole blogging thing. The feel of community amongst those who have never met face to face or never would have if not for the blogosphere, that real friendship and all the laughs, all the stories. From those my age to those in their fifties and beyond, blogging has been an adventure. Now if it sounds as this is a retirement post, relax Max, it's nothing close.

I first began my blog almost eleven months ago. My blog and its audience and my blogging friends have changed drastically since those first days and weeks when I sobbed out my heart in HTML and custom font. Still a little too used to LiveJournal, perhaps. And with a heart in severe need of mending.

I hadn't realise I could hurt like that, feel so broken, so shattered. Not for so long. But then, I'd never thought those friendships could dissolve, and so rapidly, without any logical reason or explanation, in my eyes. A lot has changed and I think that those of you have been reading all this time could agree that I am a much stronger and resilient, even happier, person. Although I ceased my self harm in early July, it is this year that I have come to value myself even more highly, and learnt even more about acceptance, of myself and in every way of life.

I slip, a lot. Mood swings have been rampant these past weeks. Possibly a by-product of sleep deprivation. But, you see, le Boyfriend's parents have been away in Europe since August the 4th. And what would two teenagers not quite in love and carrying on a relationship without their would-be-disapproving parents' knowledge, do with this opportunity of an unsupervised house? No, not that... They would obviously spend as much as time as possible together at said unsupervised house... with clothes...

Cue a lot of lies - "Oh, mum I'm sleeping over at Jeorjette's/Shani's/Catherine's house tonight", a lot of close calls, far too much missed school than is sane whilst in one's final year of school, and considering the fact that it is Toivoa and Chip we're talking about here, a lot of crap and painful things including near break ups that has only resulted in us being even closer than before. We're talking car break downs, almost being caught sneaking out, accidental destruction of gifts, serious health problems, really bad jokes, some lengthy visits from that self destructive, heartless, psycho bitch side of me; and trust me, her showing up reminded me just how much I have not missed her.

The remainder of the time, I've been stressing about school and English teachers, not doing nearly enough work and discovering amusing sites such as MLIA, amazing sites such as MLIG and in particular, Gives Me Hope, which really does give me and a lot of other people hope. I've gotten my ears pierced, finally, been to a friend's formal, had le Boyfriend come to church with me, been drunk with le Boyfriend, and crossed a lot more items off on our make out list... I'll post it some time. I've banned myself from Facebook for a week, twice, and exploded Carbonara sauce in the microwave a couple more times than I'd like to admit. I've had the most dreadful arguments with the 'rents and missed friends like Raspberry Hatter and Elizabeth; wondered about Michael Rivera, hankered after reading a bit of Lilu, to name a few.

I've been missing people and been experiencing nostalgia for a past that I've never known, and my increasing "emotional chameleon" state is of likewise increasing intrigue to me. I've been out winning awards (well, only one, really) and buying books with the subsequent book voucher prizes, which I have then been too busy to read, or have misplaced somewhere in the house. I've been destroying phones and breaking stuff and getting down but somehow, never out. It's been bumpy, disheartening, but good. I am happy.

So why haven't I been blogging/reading/commenting? I'd like to say that I've been saving up blogging material for you all, but that would, unfortunately, be a lie. I've been lacking time and topics and the ability to write, as well as questioning whether I am truly cut out to create and sustain an entertaining blog, but I am going to say, with some trepidation, that I am back, and looing forward to this, you sexy sexy bloggers, you. And my posts shall NOT be as terrible as my previous few, I promise that.

But one more thing. I have another blog, which is pretty much exactly the same as this, but uncensored and without, well, at the moment, without anyone reading it, but without people-I-know reading it, therefore, a few extra posts you will never see here. I'd challenge you to find it but I'd love for it to have an audience asap, so drop me an email, yes, an email, and, I know, who the fuck uses email these days? Anyway, send me an email, and I'll let you know the password (or URL) to my cave of hidden wonders... /any sexual innuendo derived from that is totally a result of your own warped mind...

Oh and P.S.? (I know I said one more thing, and this makes two, but shush...)

I'm not in love, no, but I love Chip more than I can say (and trust me, you're going to be hearing rather a sickening lot about that in posts to come), and I can truly say that right now, he is the only one I want.

P.P.S. Just realised that I began this post with the line "Why haven't I been around?" Geez. Not to sound desperate to be slutty or anything, Toivoa. Besides, as I was telling Chip the other day, I'm too fucking good to be slutty, or a hooker, or a stripper. Problem? You be the judge.

2009-07-31T20:04:00.001+09:30

I hate myself currently. Or to be more accurate, I hate that I get
this way. I'm grumpy and moody, irritable, upset, emo, you name it.

I'm just pissed off at everything, at the way I feel bloated, at the
way I haven't seen Chip in weeks and shan't for another week, at my
utter lack of motivation and the general mediocre quality of life at
the moment.

Perhaps it is because, in taking antibiotics for the flu, I had to
stop taking my iron and vitamin D tablets. That does usually affect
me. But that tends to be straight out depressed or mood swinging. Not
this ridiculous, bitter, cynical, harsh attitude that permeates even
whilst happy. It coasts along under each and every other emotion and
damn if I'm not MORE bitchy than when PMSing. Yes folks, you read that
correctly.

I'm pissed off at people I don't want to be angry at, angry at having
to maintain conversation with Chip. I don't know how anyone can or why
they would put up with me when I'm like this. How can Chip stand me?
Why doesn't he break up with me??? Why is he with me?

I just want to feel like I am doing something with my life, getting
somewhere, being successful...

The other half of me just wants to do something violent.

Towards myself, preferably, but who cares?

I shan't.

But it would be soothing.

--
Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com

So when you tell me that you love me know for sure...

2009-07-26T23:03:00.002+09:30

I don't wanna be lonely any more.

So Rob Thomas sung, and quite probably, shall sing again. I'm looking
for someone I can sing that to, not literally of course.

I'm lonely, at the heart of everything else. With my best friends
Kathleen and Lyn and Bass Boy and my various other friends, I've got
this void I'm trying to fill. BF, sure, he's got his place. But I
can't talk to him about him and other boys, about girly things and
movies and anime and joke about old memories and a future together. We
don't have a long term future together. I do not see us getting
married, although I'm fine with being proved wrong on that. He may be
the ever elusive "one" but for now he is merely my boyfriend, and
while this might sound stupid, I hate that he is the person I am
currently closest to.

At this age, friends are the steadiest thing I have. They are the ones
I can still see having a bond with decades down the line.

Chip, well, we'll see.

I don't want my boyfriend to be the person I go to first to tell
everything, when we have been together for two months. I do not want
to be clingy and I want a solid foundation, I want a girl's view and a
specific sort. Some friendships just click together perfectly, you
know, and I have not been able to find someone who I can talk to about
things like my Rainbow Brite girl. I mean, we talk now. But it's not
the same as before, when we were best friends, secure in our
friendship and able to talk about anything, as we did while wagging
school to get chips at the deli, cringing over the deli lady's mockery
of our order of large fries between the two of us and laughing over
past experiences and future plans. We talked about everything and
although I'll tell Kathleen things, her perspective is different. I
don't see her at school, she only gets ideas of school drama from my
perspective.

My gossip sources are strained and poor, not to mention slow.

I have no one to discuss my insecurities with Chip because most of my
friends are single and don't seem to want to hear me talk about him.

I miss having someone to talk to about everything who has that specific perspective... I miss you, Becca.

2009-07-26T17:24:00.002+09:30

I know, I know. Toivoa, what's been going on? You wrote a sort of victory post and then disappeared off the face of the internet for almost the entire month, something you've never done as a blogger.

Well basically, I haven't been near a computer during my school holidays, and this past week I've been on a self-inflicted, yes, inflicted, internet ban, just to prove an old friend wrong.

I was invited to my best friend's formal (Australian prom) at another school as a back up date when her friend who I know a little had his date pull out on him. This evoked a mad dash to find a formal dress since I hadn't started looking for mine, it being at the end of the year... But dress is bought and I already have suitable shoes (check the header of this blog), so I just need a purse and jewelery.

The thing is, in my week long ban the thing I missed the most was being able to blog but I've had this window open for hours and I cannot write one decent thing. I'm exhausted due to a couple phone calls in the early hours of the morning to my drunken boyfriend and my inability to sleep. I'm sure I'll be back with a kickass post tomorrow, but for now, it is with a heavy and tired heart that I must bid you adieu. ;)

Much love.

One Year Today. :)

2009-07-02T17:08:00.005+09:30

I must be strong; I've come so far, you know. Although at times it seems a good thing, I understand the destructiveness behind your deception. Your incredible power is so seductive, but then, you're well aware. You're enticing, addictive. And I've always had trouble saying no...

You work so cunningly, so slyly. Attacking with loneliness and the fear it brings me - a little low, don't you think? Not that I ever mistook you for being honourable. You'd use every weapon in your arsenal and more tricks beside to have me at your feet once more, in helpless, fawning, obeisance.
We've walked that road so many times.

I love the way that you toy with us, at times gentle, cloaking yourself in the guise of innocence. At other times tempting, playing on guilt, forceful. "Oh, it's not that bad. Not such a big deal." "You know you want to." "You can't keep away. You couldn't before." "You'll never be free of me." Then the blunt shot, wordless. The cravings.

So many methods to employ and so admirably determined. I particularly enjoy the way you leave and come back with a punch; unexpected desire so hard to ignore. Or when you return after enough time has elapsed that its difficult to remember your dark side, even if one recalls it with their mind. Such tactics.

But see, the things is, even though you are so powerful, this power is not all-encompassing. I can turn my back on you, I can look away. I can remain vigilant and fight you with everything I've got. And what have I learned? That you are not indestructible. This is a war I'll be fighting for a long time; perhaps the rest of my life, but I am taking this stance and I am not giving in. I will not fall to you no matter how you plead or scream. This is me saying "never again".

A year ago I was in darkness, slave to a blade and the desperate need to flee from myself, from reality. Blood and pain flowing freely in a darkened room, heart more lost and broken than alive. Today I am fighting and more sure of one thing than ever before, that "hope is not a myth".

It was never going to be easy. I've caved enough times before to know. And sometimes fighting takes more effort than I've got, causes more pain than I know how to bear. I try try try and sometimes that doesn't seem like enough. Sometimes it isn't enough. But today, its been a year since I last cut, last hurt myself on purpose, and I am so proud of how far I've come. I never thought that I could do this, so many times when all I could see was pain and hurt; inescapable cycle; and yet, I have reached the other side of this dark tunnel.

Hope is real.

I'm not going to lie; I will find myself in the dark with the want to escape many more times. And this time, each time, to you, addiction, monster that would have me trapped in your grip, I will say no. I do not belong to you. This is over.

I am free.

(I originally wrote this last night, right after the previous post, but it is fitting for today, no?)

Depths of Loneliness

2009-07-01T22:32:00.000+09:30

Alone in the dark, once again. Less alone or more alone? Think back one year exactly, fast forward twenty-four hours. Different room. Same house. And all I had for company blood, pain and a glint of silver in the black of the room. Less alone or more alone?

Think back, think back, when all I had for company was the pain and the blade and the blood. The fierce anger to go deeper, deeper, to unleash that torrent of red. Less alone or more alone?

Is it nights like these that bring it back, suppressed desires for blood? For the anger and bitterness and the loss of reason, loss of reality, loss of pain? More pain to lose that which was already there. Deeper, deeper. Wounds to match both inside and out, maskinglosingovertaking. Less alone or more alone?

Desperate need to lose myself forget myself, drag deeper. Flesh torn roughjaggedraw, the deeper to lose myself. Without escape now does that make me

less alone or more alone?

I think it's the silence and the dark and the way

That I could be alone in the world.
Still alive still around? Talk to me, I need to see that you're still around. Emptiness pressing and no way to forget; where am I left now, less alone or more alone?

Why is He More Important Than Anyone Else?

2009-06-26T22:15:00.003+09:30

Tell me.

Earlier today, while it was still the 25th of June in America where it happened, Michael Jackson died.

And, I get that he changed pop forever, sure! I was way tripped out when I found out that he died this morning, but just because you never think about these things.

I'm not trying to be insensitive, uncaring, or rude. But I don't get it.

I don't get how people cry for these people... They are NO BETTER than other people! Every day millions of people die who we don't know, and live through hell. Barely any one stops to think about that or shed a tear for that, yet just because this guy made good music, was made into a celebrity, doesn't make him any more valuable, and yet he is mourned the world over.

He's just another person! It's sad that he died but why would I cry over it? Why would I think, "Oh, the world has lost an amazing person"?

Every single person is amazing, valuable. Equally. Fame does not add to or take away from that.

So why would I mourn the death of one in a million people who also died today, none of whom I know? I feel sympathy towards his family, sure. Because I know about it. But think about it. Today, millions, millions of families are grieving over the death of their loved ones. You heard about some of those. You feel bad when a family member of a friend dies. But you feel sad because of their sadness. You empathise. Because of their grief! And perhaps you even cry over it.

But, celebrities. Unless you know them or know someone who knows them, how can you feel so much for them? Why not feel for the others who have died today? How many times have we watched tragedies on the news, yet due to the distance, feel sad and not much more? It's not personal, it's not happening to us... It's not even that we would think this consciously, but rather that it is hard to feel something so far removed from us.

We are not involved in celebrities' lives, yet it becomes easy to think we know them well when we read and hear all about them constantly. They are still just ordinary people, like us.

It's heart breaking that he is dead. But not for us, I don't understand how it could be for us. He's not someone we love as a friend or family member, someone we have a relationship with. He's someone we know about.

We hear about people dying in poverty, children dying in poverty. It's become something so common that most of us barely even bat an eyelid over it. We may think that we're privileged and as such, our duty to help these people out, so we donate some money. But do we really feel for them? Honestly?

And as for this matter of respect. Just because it's the day MJ died, doesn't mean you should be respectful. If you're going to be respectful, then be respectful full stop. When the person is alive, which honestly, is what matters.

If you're gonna talk shit about the person when they're alive, do it when they're dying, do it when they're dead. Do not like decide to be nice about someone because they've died, that's ridiculous, how does that help them when they're dead??? That is ridiculous. It is hypocritical. Be nice to them when they are alive. It's too late to regret it or try to be nice about them when they are gone.

I need to be nicer to a lot of people. I fully admit that.

And I think you should keep your negative opinions about a person to yourself, especially when they have died and their loved ones are grieving. That's the least a decent person could do. But realistically, it's so much more valuable to do when they are alive.

Every person's death should be felt with as much grief as some are feeling for Michael Jackson's right now.

2009-06-16T22:55:00.003+09:30

why are you asking? you're not supposed to care! we're talking again, but still!

i don't even know why i'm so scared of this, but i don't want to hurt you evereverever and, well, if you care

of course i want you to care, but ...

:(

it's always more complicated than that.

update: i missed you so much$

2009-06-16T22:33:00.000+09:30

so angry and upset and hurt and confused and frustrated and mad and just, ugh. also, so sleep deprived. proper post soon, sorry

'Global' is not a nice idea. Global is reality.

2009-06-11T23:28:00.002+09:30

I want to live by this quote every day. I must say, I forget, a lot. But it is something I try to remind myself of, for it is of utmost importance.

“…Every story matters, every life matters. We say that pain is real and that it deserves our attention. We say that people need other people. We would be following an awful trend if we bought into the idea that these things somehow only apply to people who live where we live, or speak the language we speak. There is distance in the borders and the barriers. Distance more with all the seas. The danger in the distance is that a great lie gets whispered. i don’t hear it, but i feel it when i see the pictures on the news. The lie i’m talking about says something like this: “It’s okay. This is happening far away. Those people are different. This doesn’t affect you. It doesn’t matter that much.”
It’s easy to believe that our own problems are the only problems in the world. It feels true at times. Maybe a lot of the time. But the better thing might be to believe that we are one…
‘Global’ is not a nice idea. Global is reality. Let’s be the generation that realises this.”

- Jamie Tworkowski, of To Write Love On Her Arms

Now, for some other housekeeping

- I have begun using my Tumblr, for those few of you who read my blog hosted elsewhere and utterly anonymous, you'll have access to that.

- If you do want access to this other blog, just email me. Toivoa.ja.elaman@gmail.com

- If your name is Sacha or Becca, please go follow this. It's for/to you/me/us. I'm thinking of making it private anyway so I'll probably add you via email and then limit access shortly. Plus if we're going to continue communicating via blogs at all, I'll just give you author access so you can post on there.

Das ist alle, danke.

"I'll be Missing You"

2009-06-11T17:15:00.008+09:30

ExBestFriend,

hahaha, you'll remember. your proof...

If I "don't even really miss you anymore", then why is it that seeing you makes me panic? And three words from you have me in turmoil for the next hour? Just "How's it going?" I fumbled some ridiculous response... way to go looking like a complete dumbass Toivoa.

... I'd almost forgotten the sound of your voice. And now I've heard it again, I want to hear it all the time. I want you to talk to me like one of the others do. I talk to her heaps now, while I just don't really get that many chances with the other friend.

I want to see you laugh, and I really want to see you smile because even though you hate [hated?] smiling, I found it pretty much the most adorable thing ever.

You know what I miss? Those days when seeing you brought a huge smile to my face, and yours too, and I'd run at you and give you a massive, long hug; and you'd hug me back just as tightly. I loved that I knew you cared about me when you lacked any real response to so much else, and when you told me so, when you said "I love you" just because you wanted to say it and because you meant it. I loveloveloved our friendship. I lovelovelove you.

... but I think that's fading.

And even though I'm beginning to accept that,

I just still really really would give anything to be friends with you again.

"Just going through the motions"

2009-06-09T00:15:00.003+09:30

Today, as of 15 minutes ago when it began, happens to be the exbestfriend's birthday. make that 16. He's 17 today.

I don't think I can even make myself miss him anymore.

I don't want that; I want to keep missing him like it's been a week since our lives so suddenly and utterly diverged.

Is it still healing if you're fighting it with everything you've got; if it's the last thing you want?

I do not want this.

I ~~loved~~ love you.

I don't want to let this go.

time does strange things. but then, so do i.

2009-06-05T01:21:00.001+09:30

i refuse to miss you when i see you walking past, when you're behind me in the canteen line, when we're standing a metre apart in the same room. i refuse to acknowledge you as more than a stranger; beyond that, your presence is irrelevant.

because it's what i've learnt to do.

and because if i let just one thought through, it's opening the floodgates to a veritable deluge of memories and emotions and i can feel my eyes growing darker, darker, pooling to black as i am flooded; although i know this is not visible.

sometimes i even have to stop and think; best friend, do i miss you any more? the answer is still yes, but i'm getting better at forgetting...

"What in the world's come over me?"

2009-06-04T22:33:00.006+09:30

Having a boyfriend who's so thin makes me want to cry. Or stop eating for a week. Or stick my fingers down my throat.

Whatever works.

Because I'm scared he'll judge me like I judge myself; that even though he likes me it won't be enough just because I'm not that pretty and my body isn't that great either and I'm scared that he'll realise I'm not so hot and not someone he wants to be seen with (which he doesn't anyway by his relatives and the like but that's for a perfectly justifiable reason aka although he's 18 he's not allowed to date and would be shot if he was found to), and he will stop liking me.

It is so much easier to be confident when we were just friends with benefits coz damn, I knew he wouldn't kiss me if he didn't find me attractive. And I know it makes no sense as to why he would lose that now that we're a couple, but I've never been one to work by logic, even at the best of times.

I hate that I care so much. But this relationship has been a long long time coming, even though I never thought it actually would, and I want it to last for a long, long time too...

Sleepless nights.

2009-06-03T01:14:00.003+09:30

I know, my posts lately have been few, and apart from those sporadic bursts, far between. I haven't been sleeping much, and thus school work isn't getting done, but I'm actually pretty good lately. I miss having time to blog, but I can barely focus.

Words seem to flee when I hit "Create Post", so my apologies.

I am absolutely headfucked when it comes to doing assignments and concentrating and understanding concepts. I need sleep but I'm at a stage where I'm so used to the lack of it that I can't bring myself to do it. I am growing ever more averse to it, distaste for it growing stronger in my mouth, but I know I need it soon or I will crash and burn. I need my eight hours a night, and more.

My eyes feel like they have had acid applied to them with an eye drop. Which, I can assure you, hasn't occurred.

The days are buzzing with talk of Formal [prom] which isn't till December the 3rd, talk of limousines, dates, dresses, and the after-party. I'm thinking how if things had stayed the way they were, I'd have loved to go with the exbestfriend. Because, well, we were best friends. And it's not like we had anyone else. Now, it's a toss up between my best friend's friend Tahali and my boyfriend, and personally, I'm inclined to go with the former. Don't judge me for not wanting to take my boyfriend simply because he's of the same racial ancestry. It's not that I'm shallow, it's that I worry excessively over what I think people will think...

How do I explain that "my head is screaming Get a grip, girl, unless you're dying to cry your heart out"? Because damnit I like Jimit far too much far too soon. We're just going for casual, I know that. Our friendship, everything between us, ever, has been casual. I hope it develops into more though, but I have to remind myself not to push it. I don't want to kill this, especially since we're both so terrible at relationships. But we have talked about these things a million times, before and even now, and we want essentially the same things, apart from this new desire I find myself having for a serious relationship; and we think the same a lot of the time on the subject. We get along really well and we both really hope this works because we're both sick of shitty short relationships.

There are so many things going for this.

And already I'm scared that I'll fuck it up.

I'll come rewrite this when I'm better, and write it well. For now, if you care this much, I'm sorry but you'll have to make do.

Rahhh

2009-05-28T00:57:00.005+09:30

It feels like a beginning, or at least a resuming, for that is more accurate. But it has started and I love it... It is always at the beginning when there are so many as yet untried possibilites that hope hangs thick in the air, as a sweet scent rather than a choking fog; wonderful. I remember being excited about talking to the exbestfriend, and even with the worry, it was still awesome. But this time, I'm sure it will be different. Because it's not him; it's my other friends, and I always thought this would be easier.

He just... sometimes isn't a very flowing conversationalist... And things were just more awkward, so that didn't help.

This is different, better.

I'm so hopeful.

C:

holy mother of fuck.

2009-05-26T01:29:00.003+09:30

Yah, I'm far too busy to update that previous post, but there's always tomorrow, right?

But, omg... I just saw a couple of recent pictures of the exbestfriend.

He's so fucking adorable.

Like...

I don't even know how.

I love him.

Take My Hand, We'll Make It, I Swear,

2009-05-25T18:21:00.004+09:30

Whoa,
Living on a Prayer...

Or rather, living on four hours of sleep and a truckload of caffeine. I'm so tired and exhausted, but today was a good day, for the most part. In my sleep deprived state, everything was hilarious; I laughed a lot, but I'd like to think that it wasn't just me; that all those moments were amusing as hell. You know, one of those days, where everyone's on a roll and you love those days, with their continuous awesome ;)

I'm on the phone so I may update this later, I'm way too easily distracted and confused to do more than one things at a time... I suck lol

visit to toivoa's mind, if you can bear to stay a while

2009-05-25T00:30:00.004+09:30

I know, so many posts in such a short amount of time?

ohmyfuckinggod

i know i know the later it gets and the more tired i am the closer i get to that mindset of "night without stars"

darker and darker

haven't slept enough this week

progressively darker

note how my mind slips

one word could reduce me to tears

part of me wants to be strong

but i'm scared.

toivoa stop

what are you doing

i don't know

i don't know

focus on homework

just get it done kay

i want to but i really just want someone to talk to, this is the next best thing, i just want to know that someone cares about me

you're ~~pathetic~~ being pathetic

you're better than this, stronger than this

you KNOW people care about you. how can you be anything but happy, you finally have the thing you wished for most in the world for so many months

i know, i'm sorry

i can't help it

toivoa, you can.

i'm trying

but it's hard

that's what she said ;P

see

cheer up

smile

more?

that's enough for now, if that's as happy as you get, okay

okay

i'm okay

[different colours to show two different sides, edited in later]

as for my desperate need to feel safe.

2009-05-24T23:57:00.003+09:30

Yeah I'm not actually going into that, but, basically, I've been way too scared over way too many things way too many times. Serious, huge things. And small things too. The small things I can deal with. But the things that make me scared, the big things that I can't necessarily protect myself from... I'm not so good at handling that, anymore, if I ever could, which I highly doubt.

and I terribly want to never feel that way again. Even once is too much.

Although I'd say there are worse feelings, none which I can explain in just a few words, and I don't have the effort to go into them in detail now.

... and in the ten minute break I took from writing this post to Failbook and other crap, my mood has sunk, badly. It's been worse, not so bad I can't fake happiness or even force myself back into that, but its finding the desire to want to be happy that I struggle with. And since I'm not really talking to anyone, there is no motivation. Am I better? Hell yes. Better than I was, but I'm not all better, not yet. But I've learned to fight this shit. You got through to me in the end. Somehow. But seriously, you'd be the reason why, every time, I choose to not stay in this thing. Sometimes, the exbestfriend too, something he said once. But mainly you. A little late, I know. But better than nothing, yeah?

Letters to People

2009-05-24T23:09:00.003+09:30

It's crazy how one person who you've known for really, not all that long at all, barely any time at all, can have such a huge impact on your life. And I know that usually I ignore this pain because God knows I have enough people to miss already.

But, I guess we try to see each other. I dunno, it just doesn't work.

You make me feel safe, and happy, and I love the way you make me think.

I'm scared you don't care, you're really just doing what feels like your duty, indulging this teen who is seriously messed up. Because you're so nice.

You're way too genuine, though. Right?

But whoa, I miss you like anything.

Hello Blogosphere,

2009-05-23T17:25:00.003+09:30

This is me.

However, I currently have no clothes. No clothes! Of course, there is that dress in the above picture, but I'm not keen for Jimit to think I've gone emo or goth... Unless I can get a white/other coloured belt I'm not wearing it out. Plus it's shapeless without one.

I'm also really not in the mood for wearing jeans, since I wear tight skinnylegs every day for school, and I'm way over it at the moment. Pants are too restrictive. I have no good skirts, or at least, no good skirts that have any tops to match them, and all my dresses are over the top. GAH.

And I'm kinda sick of shopping too coz I barely find anything I want, and if I do, it's crazy expensive.

I hate you, clothes retailers. I despise you. No I am not just fussy!

Okay, maybe I am, but whatthefuckever... ;p

Oh, oh,

Bitch, please.

Karma Karma Karma Karma Chameleon, You Come and Go

2009-05-23T15:22:00.006+09:30

You come and go...
Loving would be easy if your colours were like my dreams,
Red, gold and green,
Red gold and gree-ee-eeen

I am so easily emotionally affected by everything. I grow sad over an argument between two characters on a TV show...

I've been listening to Secondhand Serenade and a bit of Mayday Parade, and right about now, I feel sad for lost times that never happened to me. How can I be remotely nostalgic for something that never happened? I am an emotional chameleon haha.

Zu dir, meine liebe Schwester,

2009-05-22T23:51:00.003+09:30

You terrified me today.

I had a Biology test today that is rather weighty in terms of the whole year and which, admittedly, I spent nowhere near enough time studying for. You have no idea how scared I was for you. I don't cry easily in front of others who aren't family, but for a few minutes I had to struggle to stop shaking. Do you know how much I love you? Of course you do, for you feel the same in return, I know so, no matter the troubles.

Most of you would know that my sister is something of a source of worry to me. We are very close and I care about her far more than I could ever hope to express. I am fiercely protective of her.

She is going on a school ski trip later this year, and as such, must participate in training at the gym on Friday mornings before school. While studying during my double free before recess, after which was my Bio test, a friend of hers mentioned that she'd been feeling sick in homegroup and looked as though she was about to faint.

I've never fainted but she has once before, and is very easily affected by things like lack of sleep or painkillers or sleeping tablets, when she was barely sleeping. After taking thpse I hear it was as though she was tripping, since I wasn't present, and I've seen the same thing happen to her at least once with Panadol, although I don't believe to the same extent.

She doesn't always eat breakfast and while I rrarely do myself, I cope very well with lack of food, and besides I eat fine otherwise. She also subjects herself to rigorous excercise and sometimes her food intake is limited to foods such as celery, carrots, and other vegetables, although she's a bit better since that stage. I worry about her.

At recess, another of her friends that I bumped into and asked about her told me that she had looked pretty sick in ski trip training as well. shit. I immediately went to find her, just to check on her. She wasn't with her friends but I was told she was with a friend in the canteen line, so I headed off there. As she turned around in response to my touching her on the shoulder, she stumbled. I can't explain how worried that made me. She looked unwell too, you could see it. As she had no money or food, her friend was buying her orange juice. I asked if she could get her something, and my sister protested that she didn't want her to spend money on her, which neither of us cared about. As they entered the canteen I left, since it didn't seem incredibly bad, and managed to distract myself fairly well.

I did text my dad from a friend's phone, and so he called her, which she wasn't too happy with, but I felt he should try to talk to her, since she didn't want to go home either.

Walking to Biology at the end of recess, I wanted to see her again, but she would have already gone to class and in the ten minutes before our teacher arrived, I managed to panic, and started crying and shaking.

I'll admit, while I was worried, I was half considering whether or not I could also use it to get out of the test until Monday, once I had studied sufficiently, and while I felt ashamed of that, I did really want to be with her and make sure she was okay.

The first few minutes of the test were terrible, but I managed to calm myself down, and after it was over I checked and she was much better, having also eaten.

I don't know how I did on the test though, and I hope I did well, since it seemed relatively simple.

In second to last lesson, she told me that she was thinking of going to the gym again after school, so that I could tell mum when I got home, and I absolutely freaked, emphasising how there was no freaking way in hell she should go to the gym, regardless of whether she felt better or not.

Thankfully, she didn't.

Ughh, I love her so much, I hate feeling so helpless. Although there have been worse times, when I have had to stand by and let things take their course, and it kills me.

"Smile like you mean it"

2009-05-22T23:42:00.006+09:30

It is such a relief that this school week is over. So much has happened in these five days...

I talked to my friends again, I started going out with Jimit, watched an amazing play for English Studies and the Year 12 play for Westminster, the school my best friend Kat goes to.

This is how it's going to work. There are a few things I wish to post at length about, and as such, these shall be separated into different posts. Apologies.

[I've also created a new blog for the three of us, partly because I don't want our talking to each other via blog posts to invade this blog and also because I don't think other people need to be involved. Here you go.]

I saw one of my friends smile at me yesterday, and even though it may have been a little awkward, and my answering smile definitely was slightly off... Well, you may think that I was excited when the exbestfriend smiled at me... I was. But this, this was so much better... I didn't dance for excitement or anything but I felt like finally something that was wrong had been fitted back into place. Like the world got turned right way up again finally. I don't know, in one way it felt like a huge occurrence, in another it felt like we had slipped back into it easily. And a smile kept working its way across my face for a long time after.

I was nervous, when I was walking up the stairs, and saw her sitting with her boyfriend right outside where I was to pass, and I stopped to talk to Lynley, who happened to be on the stairs. I wanted to try to compose myself a little, and not walk past alone, but as we walked up the stairs, I did not hear a word she said. I wasn't sure what to do, was it too soon yet to acknowledge her with a smile? Was this actually finally happening? I was watching her as I walked past, she was looking the other way. Was it still too awkward, were we too used to turning away at the moments of passing each other? Her boyfriend was watching me watching her, but I didn't want to miss it if it would happen. There had already been so many missed times over that day and the previous with the other one...

And then she turned her head and smiled, and I smiled back as best as I could, relief just flooding through me. I saw her boyfriend notice this and say something to her, quietly, for we weren't in close proximity, and I, so flustered but happy, kept walking with Lynley past where I had to go. I could have danced with joy, if I was the dancing kind.

It was wonderful.

Concert band directly afterwards was great. Sure, technically it still sucked ass and went for ages, but that time it just didn't seem as long or as unbearable. We also didn't play the song that I absolutely hate, but even if we had...

We communicated a little. Afterwards, we laughed together, just briefly. I was scared that it was too much too soon, what if it was too awkward for her? Should we just go straight back to laughing and talking or kinda ease into it? I was so tentative, but knowing that we could look at each other at the same time and not have to hastily look away - I almost cried with happiness.

A friend mentioned to me how strange it had been to see us talking via Failbook, and I agreed. Of course, it was crazy. But it was so right. Not the Failbook part, now if it had been MySpace, then, of course. ;p

Honestly, I had expected first for these things to happen with the other one. For a start, we had a lesson together the very day after we talked, and that Thursday. I had even hoped for it, maybe. I tried to imagine it. But things never work out how I imagine. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing...

Things are better. So much better. I am not wondering if what we had can be restored, any friendship between us is wonderful, and enough for now. If that's all there ever is, then that will be enough.

On a side note, you know what drives me crazy? Hearing from other people how they've drifted apart from them. It drives me insane. Do you have any idea what are you letting yourself lose??? Surely, you can't. I almost want to scream at them. There is only one thing worse in hearing about them.

No, you do not, you do not fucking say those things. There is this guy at my school who everyone hates. He is vile. Last year when this had all begun, we used to talk in a lesson where I no longer had anyone to talk to... One day one of them came up in conversation, and having listened in on my talking to someone else, assumed that we were merely no longer friends and tried to ingratiate himself by complaining about one of them. Fuck you. Fuck you. If there weren't enough reasons to hate you already, that solely would be enough. I despise you and I will never forgive you.

It's more painful when it's people who I am friends with, who I know were friends with them. Again, are they out of their minds???

... I'm just glad we have this back, this, something.

"And tonight I'm dreaming of all the things that we've been through"

2009-05-21T00:54:00.006+09:30

"... and my eyes are screaming for the sight of you."

i'd still do anything for him. i still love him.

but i don't really miss him so much anymore.

i go almost whole days without thinking about him. i can last a week, at least, without truly recollecting a memory, with reliving it, and missing him, like a stab to the heart.

i mean, sure, the other day, i used my sister's deodorant, and, turns out it was one i used to use back then. and i thought of a night with you, on a rooftop, talking and just spending time. i know that moment was special for both of us, perhaps more so for me, but still. you told me so.

the rescue car, that other car, the drop bear, the drain... our private jokes.

and yes, in a recent post about Jimit, i mentioned kissing the exbestfriend. And even now if I think about it I get lost in those memories so easily.

But gone are the times of memories involving him flooding over me at any random moment, unexpectedly, or due to a tiny association. If I go into those memories, it is mainly at will.

Only, just then. Another of them wrote something on Failbook about wearing her boyfriend's t-shirt, which smells like him. And, that was one of my favourite things about you, to be honest. I know it sounds ridiculous, but you had the best smell. I loved how after we'd snuck out on our walks together at night, I'd come home and fall asleep with your smell in my hair and from that, on my pillow, and on my hoodie. I loved wearing your jackets, even though they were huge. The strangest moment was lying with you in your bed one day, our lips touching, barely breathing, and although I was also freaked out by it, I couldn't help but love that moment. That was when our friendship began to blur, shortly before we first hooked up.

Her post sent me back to so many memories, so many connections revolve around that, your smell. I love your smell. MySpace surveys and the like ask what your favourite smell is and of course I can't say you... But, that's the truth. I loved going to sleep smelling like you. I loved being around you, in every single way. Even when you were stubborn and frustrating and even when we argued. And I loved it when you hugged me back as enthusiastically as I hugged you, and when you put your arms around me, and held me, and when you tried to stop me from being scared.

I think I'm only now starting to realise that maybe, maybe my other two best friends were right. I really did like him, didn't I? A lot.

Shit.

"If truth be told, I miss you.
Truth be told, I'm lying."

But anyway, it's been good talking to her. Even just a little. Right?

2009-05-20T23:22:00.002+09:30

listen to me.

i was not trying to die.

It was so long ago.

But it is still there. Accept it. But then don't keep bringing it up.

Update, Because I Suck at Post Titles.

2009-05-20T20:29:00.006+09:30

Well, guys, I meant to post yesterday, but my mind was extremely sleep deprived and words weren't making sense coming out of my mouth. Eight hours of sleep over two nights will do that to you. Or me, at least.

I'm not much better today and if I'd had access to a computer in the morning at school, you'd all have had the many joys of reading another self-pity post. However, many factors contributed, including the lack of sleep. I got my period later today so I guess that was a problem but I also didn't take my Vitamin D tablets the day before and I think that actually had a huge impact... which is slightly worrying. I also overreact to things a lot. What can I say, I'm an overly sensitive soul... To the point where if I actually told people about certain things I get upset over I would be shot. Really.

A friend of mine keeps joking about how I talk too much and wonders why she is even friends with me. I know I know I know that it is just a joke and sometimes I am highly irritating but when it reflects how I used to feel and when I am as already low as I have been, I don't really take it too well, although I try to hide it, how successful I am I can't say. Just little things like that...

I've also, in case you haven't noticed with a post last week or so, I've been breaking things accidentally and being even more clumsy than usual, walking into things, spilling other people's drinks while they are holding it, dropping everything, and it makes me kind of feel like a fuck up at life. It's just getting so bad that it's past the point of amusing. So that has been making me feel sad.

I'm so stupid, I always manage to let little things upset me, even when there are good things happening! Because, I have news. Good news (:

I am going out with Jimit... Which I'm very happy about, and will probably go into more in another post later. I never thought it would actually happen, although we talked about it. But I'm glad it has.

Vinnie, Kathleen's friend who I kinda have a little thing for, but we don't know each other well enough to be anything more than friends, although we get along really well, is planning to ask me to formal at his school. Which, for those of you not from Australia, is prom. Of course, I'm not supposed to know about it yet, but Kat gave me a heads up, obviously. And the thing is, Kat and I were planning to get him to ask me, since both of us wanted me to go, because she goes to the same school as he does. So when he mentioned to her that he wanted to ask me, she was pretty excited, and so was I, in turn.

And the best thing of all, kinda, is that I started talking to those ~~best friends~~ two nights ago. When I say I started, it was more that they initiated it, because, well, I hadn't really had a chance to get around to trying to work out how to talk. Sure, it was only via MSN, but that's better than nothing, right? Only, I wasn't online last night, since... well, I barely ever use it anymore because I only ever really used it to talk to the exbestfriend and one of them, since the other couldn't get internet access at her house at the time. And as to why I say kinda is because I am the paranoid type, who is very unsure. What if they thought it sucked? Since I've seen one of them at school in the two days since, do I say hi? I haven't really been able to since we haven't made eye contact or that kind of thing, you know those awkward moments... So what do I do? I don't know and I'm so nervous and unsure.

Okay. Now that, I've got all of this out on my blog so you know what's happening, I can no longer put off writing a Poetry oral that I must do tomorrow for English Studies. I despise Poetry... Wish me luck!

Night xx

Let's fuck this shit up y'all.

2009-05-18T23:06:00.005+09:30

Just a few points.

- The alarm clock that my parents use to wake me up in the morning if they're both at work makes me want to fucking die. It is evil and its shrill sounds were concocted in the cesspits of hell.

- Tonight is going to be one of those nights where homework gets done only by caffeine and light of a phone under the quilt... Not fun.

- While today was not productive school wise, I did piss off vast amounts of people simply be repetitively singing the Shrek karoake dance party song, or whatever the hell its called. Day --> definitely successful. And if you don't know what I'm talking about, you're more of a douche than the guy who essentially broke up with a close friend over Failbook. Really.

- For the record, you dickface of the previous point, if I was gangster and violent and shit, right about now and yesterday I'd be all like, "Let's fuck his shit up! Son of a bitch goin downnn." I'd obviously throw in some "Aww hell naww"s, something about getting all up in his grill, and definitely "being about to bust a cap in his ass". Luckily for you, I'm not like that, or *insert gangster slang for "i'd kill you" here*. That's right. I'm not someone ya wanna mess with.

- I've been like this all day. This is why I should sleep more and this is why I was asked to "sew [my] lips together like those people in refugee camps". Detention centres...

- I have friends who obviously love me greatly. See former point.

- Oh, Mr Orange. To put it nicely, please staythefuck out of this situation. You know what I'm talking about.

- As for said situation, it's better than it's been in the longest time. Since... August I think. At least, I think it was good.

- I've wished for ages that my eyes would change their shade of colour in accordance with my mood. Today I mentioned this and was looked at like I was crazy. Which is probably true, but still. It would be cool and nothing changes that! Take that, bitches.

- I laughed a lot at something I said today. Yes, I'm that annoying person who finds their jokes hilarious and laughs for ages, while everyone around them hates them for being shit at life. It's all just a part of my day. But anyway, "I put the 'ass' in 'class'. Classy." Bitch, please.

- On that note, this post draws to a close. I'll be back tomorrow with some more of my stupid shit, possibly a further rant at afore-mentioned "dickface", maybe even a post on my long neglected "Let's Talk About the Tour Guide", or perhaps some more of my gloomy outtakes on life. Coz I'm emo like that.

post title coming soon.

2009-05-17T23:53:00.004+09:30

I can't help it, I know I have him. Jimit, I mean. And I want him. He's probably the only decent guy I've been with (I'll explain the Chris thing another time), so a) thanks to my, friend, Becca... who encouraged me to go for it in the first place, even though that was largely because she wanted to get the exbestfriend jealous so we would get together, and b) I'm trying to be really careful.

Since a particular incident, with guys I like, I am kinda... more sexual. Not in a huge way but just a tiny little bit. And the thing is, after this whole mess, I don't want to go that way again for a long time yet. Hooking up is about as far as I want to go, and not even random hook ups.

It scared the shit out of me, kinda, and I find myself wanting even more to be with a guy who I feel safe with. After all, I've known Jimit for years now. He's a great friend and he's amazing. I've liked him before and I don't know if I'm sticking to the reassuring comfort of our relationship or if its our renewed contact when we had lost touch a little for a few months previously, which is really the only reason why we were no longer together, and then of course we moved on.

But like I think I've mentioned, I keep realising that there is far more depth to him than I had initially thought. He's the first guy in a long time who is smarter than me, on a completely intellectual level. Italics Boy and Chris... Ehh. Especially Chris. I like it when I can have a decent conversation with someone.

That's not the problem. I can't quite remember, but I think I may even like him more this time, and I liked him a lot last time, when he was almost the only stable thing in my life. Again, even that is not the problem.

Especially while intoxicated (hey, here's a solution - don't freaking drink!), I go a little bit further than I mean to. I don't know how to explain it. It's more that I imply going further, or something. But I really don't want to! And then I'm scared that if this other person, whoever they may be, at any future time, gets that idea, I will feel bad for implicating that and will go along with it because I don't know how too extricate myself.

I've already decided not to drink with anyone but good friends, and Jimit is a good friend, but it is myself that I can't trust, if I'm honest with myself. Although he isn't like that, what if I then insist on something, god knows what exactly..? Because I can see myself doing that, for the reason that I want to make him happy and "guys want sex" and that whole idea, no matter that I'd rather die.

And then my definite following resentment would result in getting pissed off at him, and that would ruin our friendship. Even though I want more.

I can't get enough of him, of talking to him by phone call, by text, by IM, by Failbook; when I'm around him I want some physical contact all the time, whether it's hugging him, holding hands, or just, any little thing. I like just watching him talk to other people, even though I realise that's creepy. And I want to kiss him, and even when I do it's not enough, and I want more. I want to kiss him until I can't breathe, and apart from the night I first hooked up with Chris (alcohol was involved here too... See a trend?), the last time I wanted that or actually got that was with Jimit, and before that with the exbestfriend. Which was different altogether but let's not go there because that was in a memory collection all on its own and how do I explain that? The roughness of his stupid half grown beard against my palm and the feel of his jawbone beneath that, other hand entwined in his also kinda stupid long hair to keep our heads as close together as possible, with him doing the same, except for, you know, my lack of facial hair... And my hair was a perfectly decent length! I'll stop now because I know, it's sickening, and no one on god's green earth ever wants to know, but in remembering moments like that, how can I argue that I didn't like him as more than a friend?

It sounds so ridiculous I've been trying to avoid the word, but, it's passion. And I never thought I'd like Jimit so much.

This post is so awkward so it's going to end now. ;p

Re:

2009-05-17T01:38:00.003+09:30

I don't want to make you upset. I never did, and I sucked at that, and I'm so sorry. I know my apologies are far too late and can never ever do enough.

I would have hurt her, I would have hurt her in any and every fucking way possible, if she had carried out or even tried to carry out any of this threats she made against you. Even just saying what she did. I know it's stupid to get involved in other people's fights, but you were my best friend, I would not take that. I could not take that. She said the stupidest things, she was ridiculous. I still have an MSN conversation saved in a word file callled Brandon the Hero, when her boyfriend was taking her side and trying to join in. What a dick. Of course I was there.

I don't know when I became so caught up in my own feelings, I don't know how I got that way, but no matter what, I would still defend you, I still do.

This upcoming music trip... I can't see you being alone. You were always so good at making friends. Even though things have changed so much now, with everyone, you wouldn't have that problem, would you? You're the pretty, bubbly, outgoing, funny one. Even though I usually try to hide it, I still feel awkward around people so much, not knowing what to say. Except with some. Like you.

What do I want? I don't know...

I want you to be fucking happy. Maybe you can't do that when you are friends with me. I try to be happy and although I'm getting better at it, sometimes I get upset for no reason, and moody and just strange.

And in that case, if my seemingly uncontrollable, volatile emotions prevent us from being friends, then in one way I don't want us to be friends again. Of course I do, I want it more than anything. But I don't want to make you sad, and I don't know if I can help it. God knows I've done it often enough already to last a lifetime.

I never wanted that. I never wanted to hurt you.

I never ever imagined we would find ourselves where we are today.

How could I ever imagine such a thing?

Sometimes, what happened is clear to me; at others, I just don't understand it.

I wish I had a definite idea of something. But I have no idea. And I have no idea what I specifically want.

/keyyboard mash.

2009-05-17T01:03:00.004+09:30

The sickly sweet taste of cheep alcohol drunk for social ease is lingering and I want it gone. Every single time I have ever been tipsy - drunk, something bad has happened. Why do I persist in this?

The first time I was drunk I cut myself. And it was crazy, those gashes and that spurting of blood, and my reaction was one of both exhiliration and fear. Then there was the time I upset my best friends. I cried for a week over that till I finally got off my ass and tried to talk to them. Did I learn from that? Hell no. Then there was how I lost my virginity. And all the stupid shit those other times. I saw him the other day... I went to smile at him, but then I saw the awkward look he gave me, and remembered and ended up with a wry smile of acknowledgement. Ridiculous. I'd still have wanted to be friends.

This time I pissed off Jimit. Just a little, and he's so forgiving. I keep realising that there is far more depth to him than I initially thought, and I love that. But ohmygod, I can barely keep myself away from /off him, even when I'm sober and trying. It wasn't that which made him angry, there was more to it. But ugh. He was already let down by one of his best friends not coming to his 18th, and then I, one of his good friends, went and got drunk at a no alcohol party due to his parents' strictness. I don't understand how I have such good and forgiving and caring and understanding friends, when time and time again I have shown I don't deserve that and don't do enough to change anything.

I am talking to him now in our customary nightly manner...

How can I ever tell him that I like him again? A lot?

You know the stupidest thing I ever did? It was this text message I sent once, to my best friends, telling them how many scars I had from self harming. To this day, I wonder why the fuck I did that. Why??? There are so many things I did wrong. Why can't we have the benfit of hindsight at the very time??? Why do I follow through with my stupid ideas?

I'm so tired.

2009-05-14T21:53:00.003+09:30

hit me one more fucking time. i dare you.

Untitled.

2009-05-11T22:54:00.004+09:30

Sometimes it's more than I can take. To wonder what you're thinking. Do you ever think about me? When you do, what do you think? Do you think 'OMG what an overly emotional/fucked up bitch?' Or anything likewise negative? Do you remember the good memories, and even the bad memories? Do you wonder what things would have been like now? Do you wonder what might happen now instead? Do you miss me? Do you pretend like you were never friends with me? Do you talk about me to other people in passing, like I always accidentally do, remembering a memory and being like oh. Do you talk to each other about me? Does he talk to either of you? Do you talk to him? About me.

Do you ever, just briefly wish we were still friends?

I don't know that I really want to know the answer to any of those questions.

My mum mentioned one of you today. I desperately trying to avoid saying your name. She doesn't realise that it was you too, she thinks it was just the exbestfriend and the other one. I don't know how, since it was always our group of three. She liked you, because you wore skirts sometimes, and that makes me laugh, because she told me so many times, why can't you wear skirts more often like your friend? But she always forgot your name, she barely ever knew any of my friends' names. I don't know why, of all days, she thought to mention you today.

I'm trying to write something for tomorrow. Again, I don't know if I can.

[If you are reading, I really more than anything don't want you to read this.]
Those of you who have read my blog, from the start, will remember that I talked about how it actually physically hurts. And it's like, shit, my whole chest is so tight and hurts so much I can't even describe it. And you know, that hasn't been happening so much lately. So maybe I'm finally getting over it. But I don't want to. All those times I said "I would die without you", and, then, after all, I didn't. And I don't know, it, to me, felt like a betrayal. On my side. I didn't want that. So I wanted it to hurt, even more than it already did. But was I trying to make it hurt more or was I just trying to remember everything?

I didn't want to die, even without them. And I wanted to want that, but I just didn't. Not really. Even with the hospital, and the police, and the file, ohmygod, I just didn't want to think for a while. I was never going to DO anything. Yes, I don't think any of you know this, but when I came back to school, and they made me leave, and I didn't want to, and then I left but then I went for a walk and then the police came to find me and take me home... I was so scared and angry and alone. I know I said I didn't want to be alive, but I didn't want to die. I couldn't believe you thought that, I couldn't believe you would do what you did, and how everyone thought the same thing. It seemed absurd to me, although I knew, I knew how it would seem from your place. I wasn't mad about the hospital thing, I understood. I was angry because you thought I might kill myself.

And I would never.

But how were you to know?

All I knew then was that I was alone, more alone than I had ever been and that I had no one, no one who I could go to, no one who I could cry in front of, no one to even just give me a hug and listen. Of course my family, but how could I explain these things to them? I couldn't, and I wanted to protect my sister. Kathleen and Michelle, my best friends from primary school, knew the basics, but barely. I couldn't just weep to them over the phone, I didn't even understand what happened. They did what they could but they never knew how fucked I was. I just wanted someone. Nothing made sense at that point and I cried over everything. I stopped sleeping in my room, listening to my favourite song, eating chips from the local deli. I've recently listened to that song again, twice, and I've eaten chips there once, last week, but I still don't sleep in my room. Everything, everywhere was painful because it was a reminder of them and of the fact that I was alive. I felt acutely just how alive I was and it was so painful, I didn't want to feel that.

I'd felt like that before, over something. It was terrible. But then, I had David, at least. Although then I didn't even know if I had family.

Again, it was the feeling of the world being turned on its head. My world. And when I overdosed on painkillers and broke my promise to you, specifically to you, it made things worse. I failed all my classes at school that term. Like I said, nothing made sense. I thought that I had tried all I could and that there was nothing more I could do.

I hoped you weren't hurt over it but I had no idea what was going on and I assumed you were fine, because, you seemed fine. I don't know how I seemed but I felt all too vacant one moment, all too alive the next. I didn't think I was enough to hurt people. I still don't know. I never wanted you to know about the hospital incident. I half didn't want you to hear and be upset over it and half didn't want you to know and not care, and I was scared it was the second one that would be true. And it was...

Things aren't like that anymore. I don't actually struggle to breathe over that, except rarely. I don't get flashbacks of memories that make me lose all focus completely. I don't die inwardly every time I hear your name, I have developed a mechanism to distance the past from the future, mostly. I keep the present out of it and continue on conversation relatively normally, although a piece of my mind tells me something is wrong. It doesn't hurt as much, as often.

I don't know that I want that! I don't want to forget you, or what you mean to me, I still don't want to give up although that's ridiculous, isn't it? It's been too long, and the reality of that is only recently sinking in.

I don't know.

"My Depth Perception Must Be Off Again"

2009-05-11T21:02:00.004+09:30

To be perfectly honest, I am dreading tomorrow. I will explain then, but for now, today has been rather a... queer day. Oh, you better believe I just said "queer".

I saw one of my ~~best friends~~' dad on the bus home from the city tonight (I had to visit the State library. If possible, it was duller than it sounds, for all of the 5 minutes we were actually there. But that's a story for another post.). That was a little awkward.

Today I found out about a new couple. I was freaked out, to say the least, although everyone else seemed completely unfazed, saying it had been a long time coming. I tried to say how it was like if the exbestfriend and i had started going out, and the friend I was with just looked at me, and I admitted that, yes, okay, no one would have been surprised at that with the exception of myself. We could never have been together. Trust me on that. I wouldn't have wanted to risk our friendship, even with my friends urging me to take the chance because it might be worth it, and as much as I wanted to listen to them, I knew he didn't like me, and even if he had...

But that is all null and void now.

Anyway, if we had ever become a couple, I would have been the most shocked person. If I had a clone, she would have been shocked too. What can I say, I am completely unperceptive, totally oblivious. I just... don't pick up on things. It's irritating.

But so I was freaked out by this.

A few people were upset today, and I hate how I never know the right thing to say, I hate how I get the crazy urge to smile in an uncomfortable situation and then my efforts to suppress it leave me with a sickly looking grin/grimace.

This morning began by stepping almost directly in front of a car which I didn't see when crossing the road. It wasn't that close to be honest, but I suck at crossing roads and always freak out. To tell the truth, I was trying to pull myself together. For those of you who don't know, the exbestfriend lives directly opposite me on my street, but I have not seen him leaving for school in all this time, until today. I lost my thoughts for a few minutes there.

And then, meeting my friends getting off the bus, I somehow managed to meet eyes with another one of my ~~best friends~~. It was an awkward moment, as those always are... But today, I dunno, it seemed different. Like she was trying to find something. Maybe it was just coincidence. Maybe it was me, after this past weekend in the blogosphere.

I don't know. I wish I did. Those looks are like... I know I've described them as dead before, as wrong. Whereas such a look before would have led to recognition and a smile, and going towards each other, it is now like accidentally catching the eye of a stranger. But worse. I think she said something similar about it, but I can't remember anymore...

I'm seeing Phantom of the Opera on stage on Wednesday. I'm excited, but organising lifts, etc., is hectic, not to mention schoolwork. Speaking of which, I need to do some now..

An Award and Some Medical Matters

2009-05-09T20:26:00.001+09:30

Firstly, I'd like to thank Elizabeth of Perpetual Smile, who passed onto me the first of her new "Bloggy Love" awards. You can read about it as well as what she had to say about And Cinderella Lost Her Shoe here. For those of you who saw my reaction, you know that I couldn't my grin of happiness over this - it was wonderful. So thanks again Elizabeth, you're great, and not just because of this award. Feel free to give Bloggy Love to anyone, just link back to that post and use the picture, which I have on my sidebar and is also in Elizabeth's post. And regardless, go check out her blog! (:

I've just returned from the Doctor's. Some of you may know I have been taking tablets for low iron and Vitamin D for six months, and this is the first time I'd been back for a check up. While my Vitamin D levels have come up slightly, they are still far below the acceptable range, and when it comes to Iron, whereas at the time of my blood test six months ago I was only just in the acceptable range, I have now dropped far below it... My levels have dropped since taking the tablets...

If I'm honest, I haven't always taken my Vitamin D tablets twice a day, but I do usually, so I don't understand how this could have happened. My dosages have been doubled, so I now need to take six tablets a day - 4 for Vitamin D and 2 for Iron. Needless to say, I'm not keen on that.

I'm a little... peeved about this. But it's a good thing I had a cold the other day and so couldn't donate blood - one must have sufficient Iron levels and I would have donated, lacking this, without knowing. Although they do extra checks there, but as far as I know, only for blood pressure and cholesterol levels. Don't quote me on that.

Catcha on the flipside ;)

P.S. Next weekend, I do not care how much homework I have and what my parents say, I am going the fuck out. So sick of being at home.

P.P.S. Actually I already have plans - it's Jimit's 18th. Yay :)

Letters to People IV

2009-05-09T15:29:00.006+09:30

Dear J,

This is for you.

What did you think about what I said? I know what you said your response was, but of course it was more turbulent than you can express... I didn't do it to taunt you, or just for the sake of continuing it on. There is an essence of truth to that statement, even now. How could I forget all that passed between us? Even with all that has happened since, you know that, I've spoken of that connection we still hold. I still feel it and in some ways I still care. In some ways I don't, because when I chose to cut ties, well, I found with you that I'm pretty good at it. But it's never been entirely without regrets.

And the argument "what goes around comes around" could be put to good use here, hey? That was the last thing I expected.

Don't think I never miss/ed you. There are still times when I remember little things. It will never ever be the same, even if you could forego your perfectly justified wariness, and even though sometimes I have wanted to. I won't let myself entertain such thoughts, to be honest, because things have changed. That friendship was one that I feel should be left in the past, just because it was a good thing, and I don't want the memory of that damaged. There is more to it, that is true. I'm not quite sure what those things are, though. I'm not sure I want to.

But that song, it brought you to mind for me, and sometimes it still does. It wasn't that long ago but we were so, so painfully innocent that it feels like another lifetime. I don't know that I can connect to who I was then, I can only look back as through a misted glass, but I somehow brought with me that connection between us up until now, and probably a while yet. And you know what?

It's not utterly, completely, wholly true now, and yet, in some ways, it still is.

Until the day I die.

[Insert relevant song lyrics as title here]

2009-05-08T22:47:00.001+09:30

I am such a pansy. It's not always a bad thing - I'm not at all keen on horror movies (gross understatement), and I am fine with that. No, what I have a problem with is how scared I am to face up to reality (see example, although I'd like to think I'm not quite that bad.) I hide from facing so many things...
I'm also far too emotional. I have a cry about everything, and look far too much on the negative side rather than the positive side, although, compared to some, I'm absolutely bursting with sunshine...
The point is, I need to toughen up. I thought that I was getting stronger, emotionally, in not falling to pieces in front of my friends. The thing is, all I've been doing is heaping it onto this blog, instead, where I half hope it will remain unread, and half hope that both you who know me in real life and those who are just friends through the blogosphere will listen [read] and sympathise and possibly throw in their two cents, and give me a shoulder to cry on and I hope to god some comfort. Like I said, pansy. I need to stand for myself, and not drape myself all over others weeping and hoping for sympathy and something/someone to lean on.

I am better than that, damnit.

I am stronger than that and I need to start acting that way.

Except it's so easy to forget this shit. I need to put more effort into every damn area of my life.

I Think I'm Getting Dumber.

2009-05-08T17:57:00.007+09:30

And you may think I'm secretly blonde once I have told you the story of why. My friend told me that I was dumber than Paris Hilton - I'm so ashamed. (There'll be a poll at the end, don't worry.)

And btw, my Google Reader is fucked at the moment, what with my following 207 blogs and all (yes, two hundred and freaking seven) so I'm desperately trying to catch up on everything and if I don't comment on some kick ass post, yeah sorry. I know you'll miss me. -_-

So today, I'm kind of disheartened because it seems like I'm turning into one of those people who break everything they touch to the point where it's just plain embarrassing rather than funny, and you kinda wonder whatthefuck their point on earth could possible be other than to make you feel like a person of more worth. Take, for instance, the character Frank of old BBC comedy "Some Mothers Do 'Ave Em", which my parents are currently watching on DVD.

Case in Point 1.

This morning, I was about to leave for school, when, with one last look in the mirror, I noticed a dark stain on my jumper. At first, I, somewhat confusedly, thought it was blood, possibly because at the same time I accidentally stabbed my finger on one of the open safety pins that were supposed to be holding the strap of my bag in place, although they do that barely. That broke again today, irrepairably. Or, you know, I came to that conclusion because I am quite simply, morbid as fuck. It was also a strange reversal of an incident that occurred many years ago when I was a child, when I cut my hand opening a tube of tennis balls (pulling off the foil covering under the lid) in the car in the dark and was bleeding all over the tennis balls but somehow thought it was ink or oil...

I soon realised it couldn't be, and was attempting to wash it off when I realised it was ink that must have leaked from a pen in the pocket of my jumper. In washing it out I left a huge wet mark on my jumper. I was already wearing my school bag and didn't want to waste time, so... I proceeded to try to iron the wet patch on my jumper... while still wearing it.

I always knew it was a stupid idea, although I guess I never really worked out why... I thought, it's my jumper, it's wet, so the heat won't penetrate to my skin. I AM INSANE.

Less than 5 seconds later, I yelped in pain. OHMYGOD. It was so hot.

Duh.

So I ended up ironing my jumper on the ironboard after removing it, leaving faint ink stains on the ironboard cover in the process.

As a friend pointed out to me, why the FUCK didn't I use the hairdryer on it?

It never even crossed my mind.

I fucking suck.

Case in Point 2.

Why is my school bag broken? Well, it all began when walking through the library doors, where they have the same sort of things on the side as at shops, to make sure no one just steals books. I caught my bag in one of these without realising, kept walking, and tore the strap off the bag at the bottom. I have been attempting to hold it together with a whole bunch of safety pins since the bag is plastic and I know that if I tried to sew it back, things would only worsen.

Safety pins really aren't doing it anymore.

Case in Point 3.

We had a Biology practical today which involved cutting up Agar into cubes. Agar is jelly-like, but firmer, and I amused myself by drawing on the leftovers with my pen that is not a ball-point and I can't work out what type it is. Said pen no longer works. At all.

It was new.

Case in Point 3.

Today we had Maths, since we don't have every lesson every weekday. I forgot my Maths workbook, textbook, and calculator. I'd say the only thing I had that was able to be used in that subject was my pen, but I had already destroyed that earlier, in Biology, and happened to have on hand a pen I have borrowed from somebody else, forgotten to return, and now cannot recall who owns it, and no one else seems to know.

I could go on for hours but it's becoming a little too depressing and I'm going out soon so time is not on my side, although thank God, in this situation.

I'm angry at myself, because in our Biology practical, we used razor blades to cut the cubes, and everyone laughed over the brand of these blades being "Happiness". The irony here is obvious, but the thing is, I contributed by saying something about Emos, etc. It's not hard to work out the gist of any of those comments. But the thing is, I have been there, I know certain other people in the same area have cut themselves and I was completely insensitive and cruel about it. Talk about contributing to the stereotype. Because it isn't funny, and even though some people do it for attention, a lot of the time that is because they need help but can't express it in a normal way. I've thought that since before I ever did it, but as to why I did, there are so many different reasons. And I could never have stopped without one particular person.

The first person I told besides the ex ex best friend, and who stuck around for my relapse and getting through trying to quit again. I can't remember if I ever told her how grateful I was and am to her, specifically, although there were many general thank-you's to all of my friends who helped in some way, and I hope so much that I did, because I don't think I could ever have stopped without her. And she was right there in the room and I wondered if the conversation reminded her of me - what a terrible thing to connect with me. I see her more often than the others, and its excruciating because I think of how this time would be spent if things hadn't gone the way they had. And even when sometimes I think, fuck it, I'm going to leave my arms and stomach in shreds and pouring with blood, it's for her I don't, although I don't even know if it matters to her anymore, and I half hope it does and half that it doesn't, because, really, which is worse? I don't know anymore. Better for her, better for me; is anything best for the both of us??

And why I am I speaking about her now when I have tried so hard and so long to block her out? That sounds terrible, but if I didn't I don't know what I would do. In some ways, that's the hardest to deal with, because we were the ones who talked. I'd tell them all the same stuff but just, it was different, with her. We talked in depth about freaking everything. And it's talking about the really serious shit and just typical teen matters that I miss. Just, the way that we talked. Kathleen is great, but. It's not the same.

Nothing with other people could ever be the same.

And finally, for the answer to my question, I actually let myself read her blog [and the other's] tonight and then, well, then I obviously couldn't block it anymore. Now I'm more confused than ever. And there's only four days to go and I don't want it to get here, because one was bad enough. And even though the day before I'd done the stupidest thing I could have, that was barely on my mind.

[And, well, I guess that maybe you're reading this [?] and I wonder what you'll be thinking, but I have nowhere left to go, and I decided a long time ago that this was where I would write what I was thinking. I don't fucking know, I hide in every other way, I don't want to leave here too.

So maybe I won't write that letter. Because half the time I'm writing to all of you on here anyway.

You know, this post began and I was determined not to think about you, to make it to you or about you, all of you, for once. But what you said is running through my head and I'm trying to make sure I understand.

I hope you'll never think he was more important. He was just the one who was around the most, and from all that time together, to nothing. Fuck. I still don't know, I still don't think it was that way. But I wonder. "What's it like to kiss someone with a beard?" I remembered her asking that the other day, when I'd told both of you about hooking up with the exbestfriend, and how you both laughed as we walked our separate ways to different classes. That made me laugh.

But you know what? I realised, months ago, that I can deal with not being his friend. I always knew we wouldn't be "best friends forever". But I truly thought that about you two, and I guess, I guess that we all thought that but, I dunno. Semester One exam week, last year, sitting at the shops; do you remember the old lady who had the hair like the scary woman from Spirited Away? And how after we laughed at her, we talked about how we had to still be friends when we were old and had grey hair?

It's things like that I wish I could forget.]

In other news, guys, I may be getting back with Jimit. We were talking about it, and I dunno. I do like him but a friend says it would be a bad idea for me to get into a relationship with anyone at the moment, and I know that's probably true, but I just disagree. I can't really think of a reason why not to, so enlighten me, as I'm sure I'm just too fucking blonde to realise.

Anyway, after the longest-ass and most rambly post I have written in fifty years, here is your poll. What is your opinion on my level of blondeness? Dumber than Paris Hilton, secretly blonde, dropped on my head as a child, my mother drank while pregnant with me, or what? All conclusions welcome ;)

2009-05-08T16:28:00.002+09:30

The countdown is almost over, and I dunno what I'm gonna do.
I'm dreading it so much, and I don't know whether to be all like, fuck it, and just go out. Or if I should go, and not go to lessons.
I know I'm definitely going to that. I don't want the day to come.
There's one more letter I want to write, but I don't know if I can. I've been trying to, but everytime I even think about, I freak the fuck out. What would I say? omg. this is up for delete.
Idk, it was different to the others, they were all different, and that's what makes this so hard
I thought, yesterday, I thought, shit, I think I'm getting better at this. I hated that thought but I was kinda relieved. And then, today. Today was so wrong.
And then I saw the day, the day the countdown ends, and four others with all their attachments, in Maths class of all things, and I was holding back tears. And that brought more freaking memories because I cried so many times in Maths in year 9, with the other one. And she was the one person who saw me cry the most, and comforted me with my fucked up "nothing is wrong but i feel terrible" shit. But it wasn't even about her. I know this post is fucked.
I'm so angry, I have maths tutoring and my mum has gone to the shops and moved all my books and i can't find my textbook, and he'll be here in like 10 seconds what the fuck do i do.
gahkjgfgakldf.
It's like everything moves between being surreal and far too painfully real

2009-05-07T17:53:00.003+09:30

Ex Best Friend,

She died of complications with her diabetes. You have no idea how scared that makes me for you. It was bad enough knowing that it can make people go blind and have other problems earlier, and even end their lives earlier, but in their twenties??? I never thought about that.

Of course, there are many factors in life that can contribute to one's untimely death, but... Diabetes is just one extra thing.

And I love you too much to want that to happen, ever.

Letters to People III

2009-05-07T17:30:00.001+09:30

Dear Jimit,

[Coz I wanted "The Jimit Post" published prior to this]

I know we've been through a lot of different forms of our relationship, from friends --> friends with a few benefits --> unofficially dating --> god knows what else. And I fully thought we were past all that crushes stage, I mean, we've already been there, done that, were together for a few months, even though you could say I cheated on you with the Ex Best Friend in that time but since nothing was ever official I guess that technically I didn't... Whatever. That is something I will probably never tell you.

So I thought we were again at a simple, uncomplicated stage of friends (who hook up, but that's neither here nor there[damn, I am in love with that phrase at the moment, forgive me for its repeated appearance throughout posts]). And lately we have been talking far more than, well, since we were together. We have that ridiculous habit of being in contact a lot, almost 24/7 at times, for a few consecutive weeks, and then falling out of touch and barely speaking until the cycle begins anew. And while the cycle has been run through a few times since last October/November, whenever it was, we hadn't quite reached such a level of constant communication again, till now. Considering my broken phone without text messaging capabilities, this is quite a feat, since we never see each other apart from our organised catch-ups and once-in-a-blue-moon random occasions. Internet and mobile are our main forms of communication, and occasionally calls via the landline, but these have to be planned out in advance anyway so that no one else will pick up the phone, just to avoid any awkward circumstances with family. So, I'm so glad we've stayed in touch so well this time.

I know both of us love this renewed conversationalism between us, and seeing you more often is great. You're funny in that terribly lame way and we just, connect. The only thing that irritates me is the way we never have that serious depth to our relationship; you're just not that kind of person. We talk about serious matters occasionally, but never at length, more in passing. That's cool, you're not really into that kind of thing. But a serious aspect is a huge side of my personality, and that's why we could never have a proper, well, serious, relationship.

But the thing is, I like you a lot. As a friend. And you're a great kisser. So, things are a little blurry right about now, to be honest. I'm not sure if I like you as more than a friend again... I'm not worried about damaging our friendship since we're good like that, but... I dunno. I just don't see it happening, although sometimes I wonder. I would love to know if you have any of this going on on your side, or if it's really just me. But there's no way in hell I could ask, because I've seen (and laughed hysterically) at your reactions to girls telling you they like you, and your inability to respond in appropriate ways. Although they were girls that you aren't attracted to, weren't even very good friends with, if at all, and would never consider them in that way. Whereas I know the opposite is true with us.

So what are you thinking???

And, I'll admit, I'm a little irritated over the idea that Chris has pretty much won. Stupid, maybe, but the first to move on after a break up has "won", and don't try to tell me how childish that is. I don't care that he is with that Ashleigh chick, although I do hate how he avoids me constantly now, even before he got with her. Especially since when I was trying to decide between him and Italics Boy, he said that even if I chose to be with Italics Boy, he's still want us to be friends, etc. And now, we're not. It is the very fear of this occurring that would have never allowed anything to happen with the ex best friend, even if had ever liked me. But this is worth a whole blog post, so, later.

I'm just sayin', I don't want him to think that I care because that is what would really piss me off. Grr. I want to be friends with him. And I'm okay with him "winning the game" because ohmygod i couldn't stand how much he was around at times, and am henceforth never dating anyone at school in the half a year and a bit I have left ever again. Unless they're really special, and unless someone moves here, I doubt that coz I'd have noticed. It's just that he's being so sfjasdkljlds about it. w/e.

So anyway, Jimit, back to you. If there was anyone I could be with right now, it would be you. What can I say, we just work together. ;) And it would make Elyse and that Yesha chick jealous as all hell... Not that I find glee in this idea of taunting these sad, unrequited lovers of yours. Although you've already mishandled the situation enough. ;P

I love you. I'm so glad I know you.

xoxox

The Jimit Post

2009-05-07T08:10:00.002+09:30

Yes, Jimit is a name. A person's name. No, it isn't Indian. I have no idea from whence it has been derived... I don't know if he does either.

So here are the essential details about the one Indian friend, sometimes more, in my life.

It's crazy to think that we are the good friends we are now, considering our history, and even how we met in the first place. My crazy best friend, his girlfriend at the time. Funny how later she urged us to get together and still speculates about us one day getting married and having kids together. Thanks but no thanks Michelle.

We got along so well the first time we met, after much talking via MySpace, but then didn't see each other for another three months because of certain other crap that was going on, but thank God we sorted that out. Even so, we didn't see each other much, due to his being in Year 12 and us both having to lie about who we were with when meeting up thanks to our parents' rules against dating. We were friends that hooked up for a long time before we began to like each other and were unofficially together for a few months late last year, much to Michelle's excitement.

We've shared a lot of embarrassing moments and I never go long without laughing when I'm with Jimit, from our misunderstandings of each other to all those mortifying movie incidents. I don't think I insult any other of my friends as much either, but it's all in good fun, and I did plan his birthday party for him, right down to the date and decorations. I "explain all the technical stuff" to him that everyone already knows, like how to lurk MySpace comments when people have chosen to hide theirs.

There have been times where we would be in contact in some form for every waking hour, for weeks, and times in between where we don't speak at all. We've had pretty much the craziest friendship ever, and even though it's very casual, he knows some pretty important stuff about me and still hasn't judged me for it. We have the same views on relationships and many other things, and I can't explain how good it is to know Jimit. Especially now, talking for hours every other night on the phone, which helps both of us sleep better. Almost none of my other friends are up for conversation at random hours of the night, and would spend money on me for it. Even fewer would be willing to be woken up by me calling, which he is surprisingly fine with.

I never thought I'd be friends with an Indian! Since my parents are both Indian, although I was born and have been brought up in Australia and consider myself to be Australian, I don't like the idea of associating with Indian people for the most part, mainly because I don't want others to think I am one of those cultural snobs who move to another country but seclude themselves and keep only amongst people from their former country. Yes, I care too much about other people. I also prefer Australians, culture-wise, etc. Indians think and live so differently to Australians/Americans/the English, and while I am fine with that, they're just not people I want to spend a heap of time with. But since Jimit moved here when he was one and is now eighteen (as of today), he's as Australian as I, even though I have (proudly!) been Australian from birth. And so I have made an exception to both my casual standard thought of not-really-being-friends-with-Indians and my absolute rule of never-being-with-an-Indian-EVER, because, like I said, he doesn't really count, and he's pretty damn awesome. :) :) :)

P.S. Happy 18th ;)

Regret, or something like it.

2009-05-06T10:50:00.005+09:30

Referring back to this incident, even at the time, in my inebriated state, I knew I was going to regret it. As I have already said. But there is more to it.

I've always wanted to make other people happy. I've always wanted everyone to like me. Even if I didn't like them. I hatehatehate being disliked or looked down on by anyone, and this is often conflicting for me. I'll still often do things I don't want to do and aren't necessarily good for me either, simply because it's what the other person wants. But if you make me feel needed, loved, pretty, wanted, or anything positive, you're almost definitely going to get whatever it is you want. Conversely, I feel guilty very easily so you can play that card too. I know, I should stand up for myself, but I have this slight neediness when it comes to other people... Working on it, kinda.

That night, I remember MF saying that he had hoped this would happen. My mental reaction was to raise my eyebrows, but god only knows what expression was plastered across my face. I remember him saying that he found me really hot and he had wanted to get with me but hadn't expected that he could... I remember thinking that he was just saying this because he really just wanted to get laid but at that moment I would just pretend he meant it and accept it even though I didn't believe it. I remember thinking that I was pathetic to be so desperately needy for compliments and to feel desirable that I would compromise my values and my self-worth just so I could pretend I was wanted for a while.

I remember how gentle he acted and how he looked worried and kept saying he didn't want to hurt me, and yet it was really too late anyway, because it hurt so much, but at the time I didn't care, and I knew that was ridiculous. I remember him saying that he felt bad for me because I kept calling the ExBestFriend and only getting through to his voicemail, and my thinking that he probably actually couldn't care less.

I remember rambling about how I was so very drunk and that I got drunk so fast, thinking that being such a lightweight was embarrassing, and him saying that he wasn't that drunk. I remember hating the idea of that because it was unfair, and he knew what he was doing and that showed his lack of respect for me even though I agreed to it, and because he would be able to better remember it afterwards, when I knew I would want to forget it utterly.

And throughout it all I was trying, and failing, to berate myself for this, wondering why I didn't care at the moment, even though I knew I would later, and trying to make myself so that I would stop; wondering what was wrong with me and how much I would hate myself for this later. But at the time I just didn't care.

And that is what has me so perplexed that I still cannot get my head around it...

And It Goes Round and Round in Circles

2009-05-03T18:15:00.003+09:30

I know, I know. It's terrible blog etiquette to post anymore than once per day, really, and especially with two so close together. I need to say something and I don't know what.

But it's like a picture of you was stamped on everything in my life and won't come off. Rather, it's spreading, being added to more stuff. It's not fair and I just want to whine and have a cry about it like a little child.

Even though I've already said it all, a million times over. I don't want these reminders and these unexpected moments that hit me like a ton of bricks. No matter how happy I am feeling, when this happens, it all comes crashing down, even if there are others around and I attempt to put up a facade. I remain distracted with the effort for a while after.

oh god. I just want to have some direction again. I want to be complete in myself, or something. I don't want such lack of control over my life. I'm almost angry, but not. I just want this gone. I don't want to have to deal with it. I can't deal with it. I can't deal with things, and yes I am weak, and cowardly, and sometimes I just don't want to stand up and keep going against the things that hurt, because it is too hard to do continuously, I need to stop, run to the nearest safe place and cry until I feel strong enough to re-emerge and continue on; is that such a bad thing? I want to jump on a plane or a bus or a train and just leave, leave all this headfuck behind. Not even forever, not even for long, just long enough. I want to be happy again. Properly happy. And I don't know how to do that, I don't know how I got this messed up and then continued to make it worse. I'm scared and confused and I really just need a hug and to somehow explain everything to someone, and that is the real, biggest problem. I am alone. And that's the thing I fear most in the whole world.

So You Say the Present's Just A Pleasant Interruption to the Past... I'd say it's not always that pleasant.

2009-05-03T15:43:00.008+09:30

A teacher, in discussing poetry, got me thinking about my first kiss the other day. He mentioned how he, at 65, had never forgotten the memory of the wonder of his first kiss. He also asked me if I remembered mine, which was kinda embarassing, but, I do. That night was really special, even if I regret some of the other events that transpired to cause its occurrence, and even though David has misplaced my trust in him innumerous times before and since.

I was 15 and a half, so it wasn't that long ago, really. The beginning of 2008, about halfway through January, although the only real reason I can pinpoint the date with any degree of accuracy is because I had just returned home from a family holiday to India and he was the first friend I saw, the following weekend. I think it would have been the 17th.

We had been friends for nearly a year, and during that time had been very close at certain points. After he admitted to me that he liked me, I freaked out a lot, rather than being ecstatic, since I had only just begun to realise that I liked him too. Nothing really happened although I think I later told him I felt the same way, and after a short while we hardly talked at all. We didn't have any friends in common and we were in different social circles so it was awkward for both of us, since both of us care a lot about other people's opinions.

He was one of those people who was friends with a lot of people, always loud and funny, sometimes thoughtful, but had only a couple of close friends that he would talk to about important matters. Almost as soon as he developed a close friendship with someone, he would distance himself. Or so I have come to realise, over time. And as he told me on that night, while he really liked me, I had some pretty messed up things going on in my life, with cutting myself and all. So he just, stopped talking to me, apart from an occasional smile or wave when I saw him at school. I liked him a lot, for months, and so did he, apparently, although at the time I didn't know.

So that hurt a lot, especially since I leant on him emotionally pretty heavy at times. Looking back, I really had no idea of the impact I had on people in that way; all I knew was that I was falling apart and I clutched at my friends to save myself, never realising that sometimes it was too much for them to handle. Learning to deal with my problems myself is something I'm still doing, and I often forget. That, a lot of the time, is what this blog is for.

While my family was away in India, an occasionally recurring event happened for the first time, that which I have mentioned twice recently, once in my first "Letter to People" and secondly, in the post "Secrets." So I was scared out of my mind, as this first occasion was the most dreadful, and alone with no one to turn to in a country I didn't want to be in, I resorted to messaging David, with the mobile I had there. I don't remember the reasoning behind this, but his response, in part at least, was what I needed more than anything. That began us talking once more, and when I finally got back, he wanted to make sure I was okay.

My parents are pretty strict when it comes to guys, they don't believe that dating is appropriate at such a young age... Whatever. They have never been very keen on either I or my sister spending time alone with a guy, so I snuck out of the house at night to meet up with David. I had thought I was finally over him, but his protective and comforting words had me right back where I had been months ago. I liked him a lot, but I knew he was over me. How he had even liked me before was a huge mystery to me. My self esteem, while a vast improvement from early high school, was still terribly low in comparison to today.

Anyway, I seriously wasn't expecting anything when we met up. I didn't know what would happen. It hadn't even crossed my mind. I'm unassuming like that.

So when he kissed me, I was very surprised. I'm not going to go into detail but we had a proper conversation for the first time in ages that night, and talked about so much stuff. I also had my first kiss, and I was very happy because I liked him so much, and that whole night was pretty much perfect, apart from when he called me perfect, and I got mad at that. It's crazy thinking how much has changed since then, when it was less than a year and a half ago. I was so, so innocent. A lot has changed and I don't know that I like it.

I am aware this post is essentially pointless.

Letters to People II

2009-05-03T00:05:00.005+09:30

Dear S,

Every Thursday after school is Concert Band rehearsal. As long as it would drag on before, interminably, it would seem, that seems like heaven compared to how I find it now. Do you find it awkward at all?

I can't help it, I know that you're there, just one row of people, seats, music stands and trumpets away. You're in my direct line of vision should I turn my head in the slightest. I see you without even meaning to.

Even when you aren't there, I remember how we would look across at each other during pauses in playing and make faces at each other, and try to tell one another the time through hand signals. I cannot help but be highly tense for hour and a half or so that the session runs.

Do you notice how, far too often, I laugh too loudly or just, too much, at an amusing remark by one of my 2nd flute companions? Do you see how sometimes my smile remains stretched across my face unnaturally because I have frozen with a memory or even just the knowledge of your presence and cannot for the life of me recall how to return to normality? Or the times when my smile is as fake as could be? Then there are all the moments whilst playiog when the pain of it strikes me and I wince, and I struggle to find my place in the music again as much for a distraction as to keep up. There are all the things I notice, and sometimes when I turn my head I see you looking at me for a split second. Those instants, when our eyes meet make me feel, I don't know what. It's a dead look, one of when you make eye contact with a stranger, awkward and meaningless, and that kills me. Because when I hear you laughing at something I still smile when I'm not paying attention, because your laugh always made me smile, because I loved your sense of humour and I loved you being happy. And then I remember, and it's like I've been hit with a house, Dorothy style.

The Wizard of Oz always reminds me of you. You always used to talk about it how the dwarf who played the munchkins hung himself on set and you could see it in that particular scene if you looked closely, and the first time I saw the movie, in Grade 9 Music, you pointed it out to me.

So many things remind me of you. We made so many plans, you, me and B, and now they will never happen, and even though a lot probably wouldn't have anyway, now they never will, for certain.

I miss the friendship we had so much. I miss you so much. You are gorgeous and amazing and your boyfriend is pretty much the luckiest guy in the world to have your love.

I think I'm losing the side of me that you guys brought out, and I really liked that part of me. You guys gave me the best advice and comfort and were the best friends I could ever ask for.

There's so much I could say, so much more I want to say, and even more that I could never put into words. How could I ever summarise those three and a half years? It seems so much longer, but then who was counting, because we thought it would last forever. It's thoughts like that that make me cringe.. I was so stupid.

And it sucks because this letter isn't really to you. If it was it would be written so differently. And if everything was right it would be bursting with how much I love you, like all those MySpace bulletins. You remember.

I love you so much. I always will.

Losing you was/is heart-breaking. I know I handled what happened in the worst way ever. I wish I had tried harder to fix things when it was still possible.
[Sacha. I need to say your name sometimes, if only to keep the memories of our friendship real, just like Jake's, just like Bec's...]
I love you. I miss you.

xoxox

Secrets.

2009-05-01T21:51:00.008+09:30

Sometimes I want to scream, "It's a lie! Please see that it's a lie! I'm tired of this pretence, it was real the first time. Can't you see? That's me, that is me and I just want you to know, I just want comfort for it, just once. I want you to know!" And sometimes I just want to scream it where you will hear me. That's why I occasionally tell you in a cryptic way, then fear drives me to cloak it in lies that aren't quite, and on rare occasions, out and out mistruths. That fear is not for myself.

It's my secret and I can never tell you, even at the times when it rears its ugly head, when it gets to me and shakes me to the core, leaves me mulling over these matters. How do I speak of such a thing? The exbestfriend knows. And David. But then it was a "one - off" (and at the time I honestly believed it was, at least to such extremes), and all that happened was my fearing that I had done a worse thing in mentioning it, exposing the secret and perhaps procuring dreadful consequences.

It is not to be spoken of, for although you'd care adequately, more so; you wouldn't understand with the right perspective, and it would taint certain things irrevocably. I don't want that, can't have that. I will not allow that certain outcome to occur, and so I must keep this to myself, even in the midst of the whorl of emotions, the intensity that I wish to deny. I cling instead to obliviousness, since that is all I have. When really, a simple hug from the right person would suffice.

Because it's not as bad as it seems at the time. How can one explain to those who have no idea? And yet, I long for you to understand, to understand my position and give me the comfort required, but not develop righteous ideas and only make things worse.

Life has never been easy, I suppose.

P.S. Sorry for being so vague and confusing, but I really needed to get this out because it has been killing me, but I cannot explain what I am speaking about and for that I apologise profusely. I'll be back with more reader-appropriate posts soon.

Interruption of Regular Programming

2009-04-29T23:12:00.004+09:30

I was in the middle of writing a huge post via the dodgy internet on my dad's phone since I hadn't been on a computer all day, which is truly something rare for me (which is pathetic), when it did this crazy thing it sometimes does. I'm elaborate like that. So, by mistake, as a reflex, I hit the wrong key, and with a flash of smoke and all that, my wonderful post was gone.

So forgive me, I'll be back with regular computer tomorrow sometime as I'm too disheartened and demoralised (and pissed off) to try to write anything more, let alone rewrite that post.

Night xx

Oh hai, I hate Twilight.

2009-04-28T18:15:00.004+09:30

I really do.

Today was uncomfortable. A room shared with the ex best friend for fourty-five minutes, occasional furtive glances and a few times seeing his. If he is in the room, I can't help but look at him. I'm almost hyper-aware of his presence, and although it's reached the point where I can actually concentrate on what I'm doing, upon first realisation I still lose my train of thought completely. It's not much better with the other two. But I digress. This post wasn't to be about that. [I need to learn to keep it to myself. I can't continue to complain. But Sacha, I miss you.]
I'm getting solid B grades for returning pieces of work, but I'm a little worried about my major English assignment for the year. It consists of a comparison between two novels, involving close analysis of each. My first book, is Breath by Tim Winton. It's an average - good novel, and I love Winton's writing style, although the subject matter isn't all that great for the majority of the text, to my mind. Our English teacher had told us when we initially chose our first book to not worry about thinking about the second at all, at the time. She's helping most other students pick their second text now and there isn't much time to decide. The problem is that I cannot think of a second book to pair mine with, and as it is a relatively recently published novel, my teacher hasn't read it as yet, even though she owns a copy. She tells me she doesn't think she can just quickly read a Tim Winton novel, well I say get off your ass and freaking do it, you can skim if needs be, just get a general idea and help me because you said it was a good idea when I first chose Breath and I do not want to fail because of you!

However, when it comes to other subjects, I'm not satisfied with B's, particularly when it comes to Classical Studies. Classical Studies and English are what I am good at, as literary subjects, and 75% for an essay is not something I'm happy with. I know I didn't "explore" the different forms of love shown in The Odyssey enough, but I didn't know how to, and frankly, my teacher did not make it clear throughout his repeated explanations. There were multiple questions or statements we could choose from about The Odyssey, and I almost changed mine and rewrote the entire the night before it was due. I refrained, thankfully.

My essay was originally almost 500 words over the maximum amount, so cutting that down probably reduced its quality also. But talking about school work is boring. I have been told that I write well, etc. by teachers so that is half encouraging.

Uh, I got distracted finding people who agree with me that Twilight sucks more than anything else on earth, apart from Twilight fan fics. And now I really need to get to homework, sorry. Proper post soon.

xx

Letters to People I

2009-04-27T18:31:00.003+09:30

Dear EBF,

Last night that thing you said you'd protect me from, along with David, almost happened again. I was so scared, but this time I was angry too, which is never good because I'm far more likely to do something stupid. I was trembling afterwards, but the sobbing was more for you than anything else.

Before, I wouldn't have been so alone. Even in the incident I told you about, I was terrified out of my fucking mind, but I had someone, even if they were separated from me by the sea and god knows how many miles. The second time, you knew, as well, and the only thing that made it better was talking to you. You know how I suck at keeping my own secrets, but this is one only you and David knew, and not very much even then.

I was scared, last night. I thought surely it would end in something that would no longer be possible to hide. Broken bones type of something.
"don't come nearer or I'll kill you".
Ohmygod. It's bringing it back now, although it's fine, now.

But the worst part was not being able to go to you for comfort, to make me feel safe again, even as we shivered in the freezing cold of this weather, out at the park, or maybe the cubby house in the playground at your primary school. Even though I probably wouldn't fill you in on all the details, you'd still care. I'd hate how cold you'd get, but as worried as I would get, it wouldn't be so bad because you'd actually want to be there, and I'd know I wasn't just making you stay. (I don't "know" anything anymore, I second guess everything these days.) Instead I lay in the darkness, trying to pretend.

I'm not so great at pretending.

And when fear receded, I waited for the tension to slowly seep away too.

This was no replacement for one of your hugs.

I love you. I miss you. I hate calling you EBF and wish I could just write your name. [Jake.]

xoxox

"I live on raw emotion, baby"

2009-04-26T17:55:00.005+09:30

I meant to write a brilliantly eloquent post yesterday about ANZAC Day; however, this evil beast named homework had me in its fearsome grip. I did (half) kick its ass, but I still have some catch up work to do and we go back to school tomorrow, so apart from my nightly phone call with Jimit, and the one I just concluded with him, I’ve had no contact with the outer world since Friday evening… Unless you count church. Which I don’t.

On the topic of church, though, in paying attention I was challenged today. Not a Christian and all that, but even on another note, I am far too argumentative and unwilling to help out, particularly with family. I mean to work on that, so let’s see how that goes.

I had a brilliant topic to post about but it has crawled out of my head and is trembling on some high ledge somewhere, about to jump. Thanks, you’ve been a lot of help (I hate you). So I’m all out of sleep and blog fodder (For this blog in particular at least), and I’m listening to Maroon 5. Confession – I cannot get enough of boy bands. Backstreet Boys, LMNT (look them up), Maroon 5, Matchbox 20 – I can’t help it. The Beach Boys, Kelly Clarkson and Daniel Bedingfield all feature in my iTunes. The shame, the shame. Or rather, the guilty pleasure. This is not at all what I wanted to speak of, and more like something I’d aim to post on Let's Talk About The Tour Guide but whatever Trevor, we can’t always get what we want and I have a fabulous post idea lined up there. I need sleep (or a coffee).

Is “fabulous” really spelt like that? It just looks wrong to me…

Anyhow.

The school holidays are over for me at 11.59PM tonight, and it’s back to school for another gruelling ten weeks. Year 12 is hell. Thank god it’s the last year. No one mention Uni, I may slit your throat. If I keep it off my mind, that negativity of it all may not grind my soul into the dust, kay??

Biology is calling, and it is something of a bitch. A very large something. I have never said the words “I don’t care” and meant it so heartily except in reference to that subject synonymous with death. Although, German is quite possibly on par with that.

Bai guys. Catch you on the flipside.

It's Days Like This I Want to Keep Forever

2009-04-24T23:58:00.005+09:30

Now that my low of before (last post) is over, I'm back to the happier self I keep finding that I am, more than usual. The disappointing of others is something I hate, particularly my dad. So why is it so hard to quit the things that would make him unhappy, particularly those he doesn't ~~yet~~ know about? He tries so hard to help others out of situations like the ones I jump into, and it's time I start being a daughter he can be proud of. That's going to be ultra hard. Karma's gonna be a bitch when I hit parenthood.

I want moments, when I'm a parent, like that with my best friend's nephew, Devin, today. Devin is newly eight and I've spent a lot of time with him lately, some sort of unexpected benefit of spending so much time with my best friend, especially during holidays. I remember trying to teach him to swim, with my best friend, when he was five. From then to the next time I saw him, he didn't remember me. Now he'll hang out just with me all the time when I'm over, showing me the stories he's written and trying out new impersonations and chasing me around the house in a tickling war. Today, he gave me a hug when I had to leave. Does that make me feel extra special? I know I bitch about little kids all the time, and I still think of him as one, but it's kids like him that reassure me I do want my own. (Still not too keen on the pregnancy/giving birth thing, but who knows?) While sometimes he is as frustrating as anything, he's so much fun to have around. I know, it's nothing like having to look after him all the time, and there's the dreaded baby stage to get past first, but it honestly is a joy to know him. So yes, that hug made me smile a lot, in a completely non pedophile way.

He is a never ending source of laughter, including his pretending to be female and putting on a very feminine walk while proclaiming in a high sing-song voice, "I'm a lady, I'm a lady!" repeatedly, much to our hilarity, although his older brother Miguel was much disturbed. The flower stuck in his hair merely added to the comic scene.

Aside - I just picked up on 11.11 for the first time in months, I hope you too made a wish. Regardless of how superstitious you consider yourself to be, it's something fun to do. I take this as a good sign, that I haven't missed it today. (:

Devin lives with my best friend's family and his mother, although with her impending wedding early next year, that is soon to change. I hope I'll see him again. I do love my best friend's family, with Miguel, a high school P.E. teacher and DJ, and their oldest sister Claudia, Devin's mum. My best friend's twin brother has, in turn, ended up a pretty cool guy, in stark contrast to his painful primary school years. I spend enough time over at their house that, as Miguel puts it, I should be paying rent.

I miss that, with my family, that casual family camaraderie. I get along great with my sister, like I've said, and also with my dad sometimes, an occurrence that grows ever the rarer, to my sadness, and my relationship with my mum is terrible. When our family is together as a group of four, it usually ends in arguments, screaming and tears. Occasionally a good natured bickering will be the worst it gets, but I miss the days when we would properly converse as a family unit and tempers wouldn't flare so quickly. I'm partly to blame, of course. We all are. But even with all of our fighting, I love my family and I know I can rely on them when needs be.

So anyway, today. It was supposed to be spent with my best friend Kathleen, our good friend Michelle, and Jimit, who Kathleen hasn't met yet but wants to. Jimit is Michelle's ex of two years ago, and trust me, she does not have a problem with us ever getting together. Conversely, she encourages it, far too enthusiastically, speculating about a possible marriage between us in the future, and even goes so far as to mention children at times. I try to head her off before it gets this far, but that is the way she is, even when Jimit and I were simply friends. She tends to think ahead like that.

Michelle was busy and then Jimit was grounded, and so, it ended up being Kathleen and I. We had a good day. Nothing notable, but there was much laughter, much good music, much falling over, and far too much (and far too loud) singing of High School Musical in the open street. Kathleen tasted my coffee, decided she liked it, and ended up drinking half of it which I in my excitement over her liking coffee gave to her. This resulted in extreme hyperactivity on her end for the next 45 minutes and much hilarity for me. I imagine she is exactly the same when drunk, but apparently caffeine will get the same reaction and, no hangover? What could possibly be bad about this situation? Nothing. ;D We ate curried tuna from tubs in the middle of the mall and attempted to slurp melted Maxibon ice creams in the food court. There were extreme amounts of "I love you"s, "I hate you"s and "You love me"s exchanged, an obvious some in jest, and much spontaneous rhyming and over dramatising throughout the day. Good friends were bumped into and we deliberated long and hard over presents for upcoming birthdays, ice cream type, pie or water, and various items of clothing and music. We bought books and recommended more to each other, and swapping of objects took place. We were laughed at by a number of other people, and contemplated where else we may possibly apply for jobs. I even did some Maths homework while in her company.

All in all, it was essentially a good, while largely uneventful day, the details of which are not important. It was the company. I’m very lucky to have such a friend, who I have known for such a long time. Unfortunately I cannot say we have been friends as long, since for some time in our last year of primary school, we hated each other for some ridiculous reason. Together with Michelle we make an indomitable trio, and is that not the way friendships should be? After all, love conquers all, and a very real and necessary form of love is that in the bond of friendship.

Dear god did I really just get that sappy? Perhaps Nic[h?]olas fucking Sparks has infected me… Granted, I read those three or four or five of his books months and months ago, but they still haunt me today. Separately, they’re great. But back to back, I don’t think I could vomit fast enough. If I threw up over such things, that is. Seriously, guys. Do not read too many of his books. You may kill yourself over the predictability of the endings, the way a man can think so like a woman that he details the shaving of her legs in the shower [!!!] and the oh so perfect happy endings. I’m all for happy endings, but a little realism also hits the spot, y’all.

Anyhow, die Madre bids me fare the interwebs goodnight for now. I shall see thee all in the morrow.

Night xx

P.S. Pray I finish all my homework before school starts. I’m probably just going to die instead, but whatever Trevor. I am really that lame. You wish you were as cool as me ;)

P.S.S. When I mood swing only once, and only into reflections and not "oh I hate my life" emo type shit, in a day, I think this day was pretty kick ass. Apart from that one thing but srsly what the fuck man. I honestly don't get what's the big deal. Oh, maybe I'm being insensitive. I like to do that sometimes. But -_-

P.S.S. Don’t forget. ANZAC Day. Lest We Forget.

"It's not the end of the world,

2009-04-24T19:47:00.005+09:30

~~In fact it's not even the end of the summer,~~
But thank god the TV is on..."

Because I'd rather that than being with you.

I try. I do. And yet, it grows ever harder to mean what I say, when I say that.
[I love you.]
It was true, once. What happened?

And you know what, I could care less, but that's not to say that I care enough as it is. Is it worse to maintain this facade than to reveal the truth? I still care enough not to do that. For, honestly, I think the latter in this case is the more damaging course of action. And the "facade" is built with a mixture of lies, truth and half-felt emotions. Its a matter of selfishness also, and a nostalgia for the past.

I love you, like a worn out shirt that I can't quite throw out.

If I removed everything with association, you'd be third on the pile. But I think I'd steal you back at the very last second.

Half guilty, half gleeful. And keeping secrets was never such a thrill. Yet, it gets lonely when there's no one to confess them to. Silly secrets, big secrets, they all have their place. But I was never one to keep secrets, and it eats at me like it does at this blog. What happened to openness? What happened to honesty?

Can you recall naivety? Really recall?

I wonder if I've lost anything less than my soul, but then, perhaps I've lost everything less as well.

There are more questions than answers in this universe, and that's where faith comes in. Can one have faith without hope? I'd beg to differ. But no hope is better than false hope. I'll still justify my position, for without some form of hope I wouldn't be here, and until I can exchange mine for better, I'll stick with fake. A few hours of delusion never hurt; ask those who leave their sorrows at the bottom of a bottle. Deaden the pain that tells you something's wrong. Courage? What courage? I'll take my courage from a shot glass.

I use your words in placement of the blades I once dragged across my skin. You wouldn't want it but I'm all too eager to take them, for nothing is worse.

I've become the one you try to help, what you tried to warn me against, but only behind your back. I'm a disappointment enough as it is, yes? I take in much more than you'd think, but it's yet another case of '"I'm sorry" isn't enough'. I'd ask for forgiveness but I think that's more than I deserve, although you'd tell me otherwise. It's different in context, is it not? That bitterness keeps you up at night, although the parallels aren't as clear to you as they are to me. Is this a part of His plan? Because I know as well as you that only one other wanted this. All things work for the good of those... I'm not one of those, but you are. So where is the goodness here? I'm not doubting, but questioning. It is not my place, but what can I say? It is not so much your answers I want, but your comfort.

All I want is my own happy ending, and I don't even need a prince and castle.

Okay, my ramblings are over, for now. Take a guess as to what is addressed to whom, if you so wish. I can bet you won't guess correctly, or at least, not a hundred percent.

Night. xx

P.S. The anger and the hurt only stems from all this confusion, that "just tumbled from a washing machine" feeling.

"It's funny, but you never think much about breathing. Until it's all you ever think about."

2009-04-23T22:54:00.004+09:30

We come across many, many people as we walk through life.

Out of those we make an impression on, how long does that last?

Out of those we make a connection with, how long do we keep that flourishing?

Do we let the special ones go sometimes? Make no mistake, it is all too easy to do this, and I don't even have them in my mind here, although it applies there also.

I miss so many people. Justin, in particular. I've let myself fall completely apart to him over the time I've known him so often, and he has always been there to comfort me. I miss him. He's special. He's such an amazing person, ask anyone who knows him. I'm so lucky to know him...

If you have such people in your lives, or anyone really, that is special to you, don't take them for granted. Especially family. They are so easy to underappreciate,, just because they are always there. They're like air, water. Until we are without them we don't realise how much we need them.

2009-04-23T16:02:00.001+09:30

You may think I sound a little drunk in my last post, or crazy...

There is a meaning. Can you find it?

I Candy Coat and Cover Everything That I'm Still Hiding Underneath.

2009-04-23T02:50:00.002+09:30

Are you getting the full story?
Or just the edited version?

I'm curious, have any of you found what's hiding in plain sight?

It's growing, like rotting wood as termites destroy from within.

One day perhaps it will all be underground...

So, did you know about the secrets?

Fishes and Wishes and Faraway Things

2009-04-23T01:17:00.004+09:30

I no longer wish on 11.11. It simply doesn't catch my eye, as it mysteriously used to do, prompting a feverish ordering of scattered thoughts into a cohesive statement, a wish. Just one wish, each time.

So, does this mean I have lost hope, am resigned, or is it a sign of nothing at all, a mere coincidence of life? It is after all one minute out of seven hundred and twenty, a rare occurrence. The chances of missing it are high. I don't believe on signs and superstitions, yet I like to pretend. Magic and signs for things are something I wish were real, and so I indulge myself with this idea from time to time.

However, there are signs from our subconscious mind that are real and valid.

Do you see any significance in this whole debacle?

“How much longer will it take to cure this?

2009-04-22T19:20:00.003+09:30

Just to cure it, coz I can’t ignore it…”

“Man I’m thrown and I don’t know what to do, I guess I gotta give part II (or part 135287349675454) of my confessions…”

If you’re taking those lyrics in the context of the entire song, the first is much more appropriate than the second. As far as I know, no I’m not pregnant. Yes, I still haven’t gotten around to confirming that… Sigh.

I like Jimit again. Just a little. I guess it’s because we’ve been talking again more lately, and hung out. He was at my house today. But I'm pretty sure nothing would happen. I mean, we flirt all the time and act like we're together sometimes, but we talk about who we like and stuff... I don't know. We've already been there, you know?

I know my posts have been terrible lately, sorry. Putting more energy into my new blog but this will always be my favourite. ;D

Love. xx

P.S. Guys, remind me to tell you about Vinnie. Soon.

"I'm sick of this life, I just want to scream...

2009-04-22T13:33:00.006+09:30

How [the fuck] could this happen to me???"

Remember my new pants?

I broke them.

I kid you not.

Head on over to my new blog, Let's Talk About The Tour Guide, for details. It's new and some of the posts are reposts from here, so bear with me.

And leave me sympathy. I know, I bring it upon my self. But never on purpose.

I'm just a poor soul, entangled in a web of my own idiocy. And it's damn funny to blog about. (:

School and Parents -_-

2009-04-21T21:52:00.002+09:30

shutupshutupshutup

I really am trying so hard at school. I mean, I suck at organising my work so I still am leaving things till far too late, but I really am trying. It's the holidays. Please leave me alone. I have been doing homework these holidays, how can you expect that I do more and also socialise less? I want to see my friends, you know, the friends that I am losing because I barely see them? Does that not matter to you at all? It is not just about school work! There are other fucking aspects to life. I hate that you think I don't try enough, because I do. I want to go on the computer for a few hours because I'm not going to sleep anyway and you stop me because of the time, when I couldn't go on previously because I was doing homework all day, apart from four hours with a friend??? Why can't you understand that I DO FUCKING TRY???

ohgod.

2009-04-20T19:48:00.005+09:30

pleasebeokay, please be okay.
that's all i want, and i don't even know what's wrong. i hope so much it's not like before...
I know something is wrong. But it is no longer my place to know, to ask, and I can't help it, I need you to be okay. I'm so scared but I... I can't do anything. Even more so than ever before.
I don't want you to be less than happy.
I love you. Jake Robert Leo Boesten. I miss saying your name. Walking with you. Talking to you. Be okay, god, please.

2009-04-19T16:47:00.001+09:30

Seems like a lot of us have lost friends, hey?

God. What happened to all of us?

Because Stupid People are Hilarious

2009-04-19T14:55:00.002+09:30

Check out this site. Its called (The Customer Is) Not Always Right, and details hilarious exchanges between customers and those working in various jobs. Sometimes, people are dumb. Really dumb.

For instance,
"What A Kilo-Moron

Pizza | Vancouver, BC, Canada

Customer: “Hi, can you tell me how big an order of breadsticks is?”

Me: “Well, a small is 6, and a large is 12.”

(The customer and his wife confer for a moment before he turns back to me.)

Customer: “We’re from the States; we don’t use the metric system. Can you convert it?”"

Case #2

Jurassic Farce

Customer Service | Florida, USA

Customer: “I need some help locating the item that this coupon advertises. I’ve looked everywhere and just can’t find it.”

Me: “Let’s see if I can help you here…” *looks at the coupon* “I’m sorry ma’am, we don’t sell this item anymore.”

Customer: “Why not? I have a coupon for it. I wanted to get it for my husband for his birthday next week.”

Me: “Ma’am, this coupon was expired fifteen years ago. They no longer make this product.”

Customer: “Can’t you go look for one? I really need it, it would be perfect for him.”

Me: “…sure! It just so happens that I developed a machine that can warp the space/time continuum. Would you like to accompany me on the trip or would you like to stay here?”

Customer: “REALLY? Thank you so much! I’ll stay here and wait for you.”

(I go into the back room for a couple of minutes to let my manager know what I’m about to do, then come back out running.)

Me: “MA’AM! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! I MESSED UP AND WENT BACK TOO FAR! I ENDED UP GOING BACK TO THE AGE OF THE DINOSAURS AND THERE’S A PISSED-OFF VELOCIRAPTOR RIGHT BEHIND ME!”

Customer: “OH NO! I’LL GO CALL THE POLICE!” *runs out of the store*

(I went back to my manager after the customer ran off, and he was literally rolling on the ground laughing.)

Yes, people are THAT gullible. Also check out FML.

Sometimes, words fail.

2009-04-18T22:06:00.003+09:30

Or maybe it is not the words that fail, but our ability to use them.

I stand by my belief that while forgiveness is the hardest thing sometimes, it is the most personally rewarding if it can be done. If you can let it be done.

Not being able to forgive just makes things worse. for you.

Just sayin'.

I love you and this sucks. I hope it gets better, somehow.

"When I Feel So Helpless"

2009-04-18T13:16:00.005+09:30

I know, I sketched out pretty badly last night. But I am back, and better than ever (y'all).

I know. I have a problem. Why do I have this insatiable urge to add "y'all" to the end of sentences?

Unfortunately, I do not know. Life goes on. So, back to what I was saying...

There was a reason that triggered last night's post, but I do not feel it necessary to go into that. Sometimes the trigger that brings about that particular emotional state of mine is nothing more than an argument on a tv show. Sometimes it is of even less significance. Either way, my panic tends to send me spiralling deeper and deeper into "breakdown mode", which only gets progressively worse. It lasts for hours and hours and it's terrible. But yesterday, yesterday was different.

While wanting to hurt myself is no longer my first response to being upset, well, it used to be. On the last day that I did hurt myself (July 2, '08), I got into an argument with the ex best friend over my "ridiculous attitude to life", as I was feeling like crap for no reason and I met his suggestion of trying to "do something about it", do something that would make me feel better, with a petulant no. I didn't want to fight feeling like that, I didn't have the effort and everything just seemed too hard. I'm a little bit (read: a lot) of a pushover, I give up too quickly and am far too easily overwhelmed. I'd try to rely on others to help me feel better. While at the time I essentially ignored his advice and continued to whine like a spoilt child, that text message of his is one I kept and would refer to later, until, well, until I snapped the piece of crap phone in half. By accident!

So last night, I fought it. "Rise Above This" is the song that, since it was left embedded in a comment on one of my LiveJournal posts, back when I used it, has always been able to... buoy me. I wouldnt say it makes me happier, but it makes me feel stronger, encourages me to continue on. In particular, the music video means a lot to me. So I had this song on repeat and focused on calming myself, then made myself interact with my family. My mother, as usual, said something amusing, either through use of a new word in her vocabulary or a mixing up of a phrase, much like Ziva in NCIS.

And it was good, actively trying to get past it. I feel properly hopeful again. I know I'm getting better. It doesn't mean I'll stop missing those friends, or regretting what has transpired, but it means I'm not going to allow myself to walllow in self pity. I am not going to be that pathetic.

"I'm falling down"

2009-04-17T21:04:00.003+09:30

in every way possible

"... but I'll rise above this."

I swear.

It was only today that I was telling Kate that this song can't help me anymore, I've associated it far too much with the ex best friend...

But right now it's on repeat and its the only thing I can cling to.

And I am.

You should watch the video.

Take the light, undarken everything around me
Call the clowns 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

I'll be back later.

Forgive me. Words aren't really working for me right now. How do I explain the pain, both physical and otherwise, that is clenching within me right now? Oh, to be a year ago. Oh, to have that again.

I can't even bear to go on MySpace anymore.

I don't know how I keep doing this. Why is it even freaking worth it anymore??? Please god tell me there is a reason. Because, because I can't really see that there is. I know that's because I'm so freaked out right now, for god's sake i am fucking trembling, it is so hard to type, but still, at this point in time, i don't see the point
i mean i keep doing the same fucking thing anyway
time and time again
do i not learn
if i keep going this way i will lose everyone i care about eventually
i know, this will pass
i know i'm overdramatic
how could i let this happen
how could i freaking do this
imissthemsomuch
nothing i do can ever make up for this
ever
there is nothing that could replace what i lost
and regardless of every other mistake i have made and fuck knows i've made a lot, that is the biggest regret i will have
and i will never forgive myself
i

no, what i am going to do is go calm myself down for the next few hours. to sleep or not to sleep? sleep --> most likely dreams concerning them. no sleep --> definite thoughts of them.

"but i'll rise above this"

cross your fingers for me.

Oh yah, it's Easter. Happy Easter and all that crap

2009-04-12T18:53:00.008+09:30

So I was all like, I really want to blog this Sunday night on Easter, since it's been a few days. I racked my brains for hours (or the minutes in between episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Yes, I have that little of a life. Although, I am killing time till I go out, so there.) However, my brain isn't really a fountain of ideas at the best of times. So as I started this post with literally nothing to write about, I mentioned Avatar, and because I am a kind and good person, gave you a link for those of you who are curious. Now, what site did I link you to? The official website for this show, which there must be because everything has a website now? Hell no.

The link leads to the freaking Wikipedia article about it. Now, we've all been told by respective teachers and god knows who else that Wikipedia cannot be trusted. In fact, most sources on the internet "are not reliable". But come on, does anyone really believe that? I mean, everything on this blog is a hundred percent true. ;) Hmmm. Let me think about that.

No, no, actually, I think that is correct. Except those times when I write stuff and say "That was a lie" right after it... Yeah.

On a side note, I think it's pretty cool that my blog is getting hits from faraway places like South Africa, Spain and Brazil. From people who are actually reading and spending a number of their minutes of their life actually reading what I have to say. When seriously, what I have to say is... well, a whole lot of nothing, really.

Hmmm, anyway. So, Wikipedia. If you're like me, you've edited a Wikipedia post yourself, adding a whole lot of crap. The ex best friend showed me a post that had been mangled hilariously once, and come on, it's a lot of fun. And yet, we still trust what we read there! Unless, I hope, it has been obviously edited...

We are slaves to the interwebs. I, in particular, am slave to the blogosphere. I cannot part from it for long, even if I am not posting, or even commenting, but merely lurking. Yes, I lurk. I know.

I'm kind of obsessed with the Death Cab For Cutie song I have playing on my blog. That said, I am aware that music that automatically plays on any site is irritating as shit and anyone who causes it to happen besides the love of my life aka MySpace, which I have sadly been parted from for far too long, should be shot in the head... So shoot me.

I'll delete it soon, I swear.

Anyway, off to Movie Marathon it up or some shit my best friend and I haven't actually worked out yet but are trying to and failing because she is trying to make me make a decision from our one option. We only have ONE option, how can I not make a decision? I guess I'm just not willing to commit.

Which reminds me, Chris and I have pretty much broken up. Much hurrays and also much boos. Pro number one - Jimit is now friend with benefits again hellz yeah. I mean sure, we only hook up so perhaps friends with benefits isn't the right definition, but w/e. Okay I'm trying to look at/on the bright side and I suck, but I am actually happy about that which was one of the major downsides, in my view, of going out with Chris. I'm a terrible person.

I suck at life aha. Good night interwebs.

EDIT: What the shit is it about Easter that makes people say peeps? Not one, but two bloggers happen to have posted today using "peeps" in the title of their post. Yes, only two. But come on, it's not a common word... Just go with me on this one kayy?

2009-04-11T19:43:00.000+09:30

I'm so sick of fighting all the freaking time

Me, a Perfectionist? I Think Not. (And Yet...)

2009-04-09T09:26:00.025+09:30

or, Why I Care About My Writing So Much
or, My Half-Assed Attitude Toward School and How I'm Determined to Finally Change It
or even, A Prime Example of Why I Should Sit Down to Write a Piece in One Go and Not Come Back to Finish it With a Complete Emotional Change...
OR PERHAPS, The Post Where I Really Should Realise That Only One Title is Necessary, Not Three, or Four (but I will realise no such thing ;D)

In the feedback I received last night from a teacher over an essay draft, he made this comment - "you write well". Now, I assume a normal person would be pleased with such a remark. I, however, take offence. Well? Well???

I don't want to just write "well". I want to write amazingly, brilliantly, magnificently. I'm not even kidding. I would, it's true, be disinclined to believe someone who would tell me such things, and yet, that is what I desire. I want to write fabulously. I want to write a novel that will one day be a classic, that other Year Twelve English students will do their major individual study on. I have lofty aspirations, and yet, when it comes to putting in the hard work now, a lot of the time, I just don't do it. The necessity of it doesn't quite strike me. I am doing better this year at school than last year, in some subjects at least, but still, far too often I allow myself to be distracted when I should be studying or doing homework, and procrastinate until it's too late. I am making changes to correct this, slowly.
[I'm trying to write about you here less.]
I used to be a highly conscientious student. At some time early in my high school career, I negligently let that slide. As a result, my grades for quite some time have been abysmal, appalling. Every time I try to make it right, I grow slack and let other things take priority, little things, like a favourite TV show. If there is nothing I can use to procrastinate, I will search long and hard in order to find... something. It is rarely anything useful, either. On occasion, my procrastination will take the form of household chores, but that is far more the exception than ever the rule.
[That doesn't mean I don't think of you.]
The most disappointing result of this has been my low grades. I love my parents being proud of me. I crave acceptance by others, all others, a little more than can be healthy. However, it is not only that. I disappoint myself because I know I can do better, I know I can do really well, if I were better organised, if I put in more effort. It is through no lack of ability that my report card has too often had "C"s and even "D"s printed on it. I could achieve the "A"s and "B"s, but I let myself down.
[How could I not?]
This time, though, I am determined. It is Year Twelve, and I only have one shot. I will not repeat and do Year Thirteen. I do not need to waste another year of my life. I will not be shown up by my younger sister. I will get myself organised and do as well as humanly possible for the rest of this school year. I'll be so organised I will even have extra time to revise and study, and will actually do so. I will actually get a decent amount of sleep, keep in regular touch with my friends, practice my flute, and start going for runs. At least, that's the plan.
[Sometimes I almost wish I could forget you.]
I have terrible will power. Shockingly terrible. Somehow, with the support of my wonderful friends / other randoms, I will get there. You have permission to beat me if I slack off. ;)
[It would be so. much. easier.]
So, let's recap. I suck at school. Now, when you think about it, I suck at a lot of stuff. I'm not good at anything. Sport - horrendous. Music - average, would be better if I practiced more, but still shocking at theory and aural. Can't sing. Dance - completely uncoordinated, hopeless. Cooking - terrible. Friendships - Oh, I'm great with those [/sarcasm]. Basically, in most aspects of life, I'm average to shocking.
[And yet, I could never give up the memories of the good times.]
Writing is the one thing I could do well. And there are so many people who are better at it than me, which makes me sad. I don't just want to be good at it, I want to be very good. I want to shine with raw talent, to amaze people who read my writing. Because I am not good at anything else and I want to at least be good at one thing. And if I'm only good at one thing, I don't want to simply be good. I want to be amazing. I want to stand out for something good, rather than standing out as the last one to always be picked for a team, as the worst who just cannot be taught and so even the nicest of P.E. teachers give up, I don't want to be left alone, worse than unnecessary but actually having a negative impact.
[I will forever cherish them.]
And... right now I'm just flat and tired and I feel thwarted, defeated.

I'm not even going to explain why. I can't, I can't keep putting these things to words. Just, something that I was looking forward to has been taken away. You may not see it here but I am so often fighting to see the positive in a situation, and I just, don't want to anymore. I hate how much this taints everything. Every single thing. I hate how its poison has infected me so deeply that I would run like this. I want to move on, move past it. I want to keep what I have.
[And forever regret losing the chance to make more]
But how can I, when its tentacles manage to creep into everything, wrapping around and choking it, cloaking it in this inky blackness? I can't fight it, it is inescapable. And this monster is mine, I created it, unwillingly though it was.

I know I'm over dramatic but all I can feel is like I am the character in a play of tragedy, with every good thing snatched away at the last. Everything tainted, everything warped.

It is a tiny thing, but it was important to me. Sometimes I just want to scream "fuck the world" with all the self absorbed, dramatised teenage angst I can conjure, rebelling, but not against a stereotype, no, rebelling as the stereotype, angry, defiant, but simply because I'm lost.

I'm hurting so bad that I don't want to have to take it, I want to be selfish and see just how much I can hurt you too, with every word I say, but even if I let myself, would you take it? Because I can't stand anything more leaving, I'd get down on my knees and beg if it would convince you to stay; I want to make you smile, not cry, I need you to need me for whatever reason you can find. I don't know who I am, where I'm going, what the fuck i'm doing but i'm sure that if you go, my heart could not bear it

I'm terrified of being alone, stranded in a pool of merciless light, surrounded by the darkness. Even now I feel the shadows stretch closer, dancing on the edges of this unprotected space. I'm too fearful to move, but if I did it would be to drop - fall - into a bundle, curled up so tightly on the ground you'd mistake me for a heap of rags... Trying to pretend, as children while parents fight, as soldiers while bombs fall, breathing "it's okay" though I know it's a lie. Whispering it in my head instead, trying to drown out the noise - or is it the silence? - of being so alone. Creeping closer, tendrils caressing. Not long now.
It's the agony of waiting. Knowing already the inevitable end.
Fit to burst, the panic tightens the chest, rising, rising.
Ever rising. When will it begin? can'ttakeitcan'ttakeit
it'sokayit'sokay
the shuddering, violent gasp, the shock of a harsh night air suddenly in the lungs,
it'sokayit'sokay
skin so tight, pulled taut by expanding ribs,
pressure moving outward, upward; threatening to snap
bones like twigs, Crack. Crack.
Heart beating? no,
rather a pulsing of the blood, from temple to fingertip, fingertip to toe.
Frozen, conscious,
Pressure rising...

Begging you please, don't go

2009-04-09T00:32:00.003+09:30

Only realised yesterday really, how scared I was of this last term that is coming up. It reminds me of the last "last day" of term I had. I'm glad I'm not going, since it's essentially pointless.

I miss what we had.

I love Google Analytics

2009-04-09T00:18:00.004+09:30

What kind of person googles this? "Well i just found out something really random. i found out that i've been so insensitive about things. ugh! i dunno what to say anymore (lol). i swear"

Just sayin', that is absolutely ridiculous to actually try to look up...

I will admit, this search that lead to my blog amused me somewhat - "you better hold on tight spider monkey what does this mean" (thanks to one of my posts bitching about Twilight)

and while I like shoes, a lot, this also worries me a little. They are just shoes.. "point out that cinderella is living proof that shoes can change your life?"

Conclusion - People search for the strangest of things over the internetz.

My Blogging Pet Peeves

2009-04-08T17:09:00.000+09:30

Well, I think if you read my blog at all, you can quite easily see that I complain, a lot. I am not afraid to be far too verbose about it. Do I use "verbose" in the right context? Gosh, I hope so. I don't know why I just said that. Gosh, I mean.

So right now, I'm going to stop, take inventory, and tell all of you just what the hell irritates me when it comes to bloggers. Yes, I am here to spread cheer and goodwill, just like Santa. That is, like Santa if every kid had been bad and was getting coal... and a beating. On that joyous note, gather round, younglings.

1. Those who put up "captchas" for anyone who wishes to comment. It's irritating, and really, consider that it is to prevent spam. How often are you spammed on your blog in the comments? Not often, I'd dare to assume.

2. Those who selectively allow comments by others. While I do moderate comments, it is only because I hate getting notifications sent via email, and use this instead, although it does make for confusion at times. I will post any and all comments. Of course, if a comment is truly hurtful, then you have every right to delete it. But if it is merely someone disagreeing with you, leave it up. What are you, three?

3. Those who do not adjust the time on their blog. It's really not that hard.

4. While some people expect replies to comments they leave on posts, I'm not so fussed. It's pretty much courtesy, but that is at the blogger's discretion, particularly if a comment merely saying "lol" has been left. Come on, what suitable reply to that can even be made? That being said, if you are going to reply to some comments on a post, you should reply to everyone who has commented so far. You can at least refer to a couple of comments in one reply.

5. People who read and read your blog and never comment. Unless you don't want it to be known that you are reading said blog, then... that would make sense. I am guilty of this at times, since I follow almost too many blogs to keep up with. Or sometimes I'm just antisocial. Still, it is bad. Everyone loves comments. Spread the love.

6. Those who follow your blog simply because you follow theirs, when they don't have the slightest intention of ever reading yours, and are not interested at all. I'm following your blog because I like the content, not because I want more followers of my own. That's pathetic, and I wouldn't stop reading your blog because you don't read mine. I just prefer a more accurate portrait of who is interested in my blog. On that note, does anyone know if, with the new Google Friend Connect, it is possible to make someone "unfollow" your blog just by clicking, as you could previously do?

7. Blogspot bloggers who have removed the "Followers" option. It is the easiest way for us to receive updates to your blog. I do not use Google Reader, and chances are, if I can't follow your blog, unless I really love your blog (like Your Beard Is Good ;P He's really funny), I will not remember to check it regularly. Of course, if you don't use Blogspot, like Chris over at Surviving Myself, this doesn't apply.

8. Yeah nah that's all the bitching I can come up with for now. What can I say? I love you guys in the Blogosphere, you make my day. It is true, I spend my days thinking about what to blog about. When I reach a computer, there is nothing but emptiness in my skull. It sucks, but know that I try, for you, and only for you. (That's a lie. It's not really for you. But let's pretend, it makes this easier for everyone.) Just gonna put it out there - you guys make me laugh, smile, cry, think deeply, realise and learn so many things, and cheer me up when I'm down. You're amazing and I'm so glad to be a part of this, even though my blog sucks. Because, again, how many of my followers actually read my blog? I know for a fact that there are several who Numero Sechs. Yes, That was Spanish, I think, and then German. Fine, fine. Nummer Sechs. That's #6 to those of you who do not have the superior German skills I have... [/sarcasm]

And bloggers, I'm curious. When you access the blogosphere, do you read others' posts first and comment, or write your own posts first and then check out everyone else's? I can't even remember what I do, but I think I actually start reading others', begin my post, keep reading others' in between, finish mine, read others', and wait for comments and for other people to post... Yes, I have no life.

Shop Till You Drop Part II

2009-04-08T08:08:00.000+09:30

Or, Why I Hate My Bra Size

ISWEARTOGODITISIMPOSSIBLEFORMETOFINDBRAS. Okay, near impossible. My mum tells me I should quit with the exaggerating, but where's the fun in saying "I haven't seen you in a week", when I can say "I haven't seen you in like, fifty years!"? Lie? Yes. But, entertaining to me for some completely unknown and probably inexplicable reason? Also yes. And that, folks, is what counts. [And yes, I do use "like" far too much in conversation. However, no, I never actually say "folks"...]

Now, I used to like bra shopping. So many pretty bras. Then... Well, I became the bra size that I am today. I actually hate bra shopping. Bras in my size just aren't that common, and even when I do find any that are the right size on the tag, each bra is different blah blah, and more often than not, they don't actually fit me. Apparently big cup size and small chest don't normally go together. You know what I have to say to that? Fuck you, bra makers, and fuck you, 10DD.

I don't want to wear granny bras! Besides, my mother doesn't like to spend over $50 on one bra, especially since I am "still growing" and therefore, she'll need to buy more later on. Uh, mum, I actually still need bras now, even if I will need different sized ones in the future! Just sayin'.

But yesterday, I actually found some that fit and were average looking. I don't care if no one else sees my bras, I freaking know what I'm wearing and I want it to be pretty damnit {I am aware that damnit is actually properly spelled dammit, although it is slang and thus, shouldn't even have a proper spelling, to my mind. However, even though it irritates me, I picked it up off a dear friend and it's one of my ways of remembering him, so forgive me this continual spelling error thing... Oh and P.S. Mozilla Firefox spell check, "spelt" is a word >.<)!

Average looking? That ain't gonna cut it. I don't want to be average, I want to be above average. Although you wouldn't be able to tell by my school work...

You know how sometimes I say that people suck? Well, people make bras. Therefore, people suck.

P.S. Remember how the other day, I was bitching about Lady Gaga? That said, this cover of Poker Face is freaking amazing, and I discovered it all thanks to JoJo at I Once Was Captain of Whatever.

Seriously, take a look. It's pretty cool.

And, FYI, I'm actually getting a B in three out of five subjects this term. Don't ask about German and Biology. ;P Also, thanks to my terrible critical analysis skills, my English grade would have been a C, but my recount and oral and the like brought me up, and then my teacher gave me an extra mark for some reason ;D Must work harder next term.

Shop Till You Drop

2009-04-07T18:07:00.022+09:30

or, I Feel Slightly Derro Because It Took Till My Jeans Wore Through Before My Mum Would Take Me Shopping

My mum took me shopping at the mall today for an hour and a half before she went to work, because, let's face it, I really needed new jeans. You'd be crazy to deny me that. I'm also low in numbers when it comes to bras, and just, clothing in general. My mother has been convinced that she "bought me clothes only recently" for the past year... Just like she's been saying that she and Dad moved to Australia from India "fourteen years ago" for the past four years.

So anyway, in my unending complaints about the fate of my jeans over the last few days, I've been informed that this happens to many people. ~~So it wasn't, as I was worrying, that my legs are huuuuge and thus caused this to occur.~~ Also take into consideration that I wore these near constantly. So, the wearing out justified, I was all good to search for some more. The problem is, it took me a very long time to find these jeans. I'd wanted black skinny's for ages but every pair I tried on made my legs look fat. It was the jeans, of course. Not my legs...

So, after finally finding the perfect jeans that were now torn beyond repair, I was somewhat nervous to look for some black jeans once more. If I ~~seeked~~ ~~suck?~~ ~~sucked..?~~ ~~oh fuck it:~~ searched, would I find? (Although come to think of it, I really do suck.) It was a question that desperately needed an answer.

It was of some urgency, too, since at school we must wear black pants, and I'm not willing to wear proper school pants, nor trackies. I look ~~utterly~~ slightly ridiculous in both. Anyway, I found a pair pretty much straight off the bat.

It is true, I use nearly every cliche in the book. Even that was a cliche. Was it not? (I wanted to use a cliche just then so it would be funny, but... I kinda really fail at life, like, a lot, so please insert one here)

I wasn't sure about the jeans after trying them on, though, and so, this is the conversation that followed.

Toivoa: "Do these jeans make my legs look fat?"
Toivoa's Mum: "Your legs are fat."
Toivoa: Should have seen that coming. "Be that as it may, does it make my legs look fat? My other jeans didn't."
TM: "That's what you think."
Toivoa: How is my self esteem even as high as it is? "Um. Regardless. Do my legs look fat in these jeans???"
TM: "Just get them..."
"You need to exercise. You eat so much junk."
Toivoa: BAH! (I have good mental comebacks. I copyrighted that one, but you can use it if you want. You're welcome.)

These jeans are really tight. When I put my jeans on, I end up doing this dance in which to get my legs through my jeans because it happens to be more interesting than, well, however ordinary people put their pants on. I kick my legs outward like I'm trying to Irish dance like a Leprechaun, or something.

What can I say? I exude awesome. So much awesome my pants can't contain it. (Which is why my previous jeans tore and these ones are so tight... No? No? Fine.)

I should stop that train of thought.

I do often fall over during this process. Come to think of it, I fall over often full stop. Today, while walking in my jeans and wearing heels, I caught one heel in the folded bottom of my other pant leg and fell onto the couch. My sister and her friend were amused. Charming and graceful.

So, due to the tightness, it takes five minutes to do the fly up. Okay, that's a lie. It does, however, take longer than doing up one's fly ever should. That much is true. I don't really do much to support my "my legs aren't fat" argument, do I?

Although here, my hips are the problem. Okay, so I may as well be screaming, "Hey, it's not just my legs that are fat, but my hips and probably the rest of me too!", but I've never been one to refrain from saying something because it will shoot down my own argument... I'm sorry? Me, illogical and somewhat lacking in brain cells?

... yeah, that sounds about right.

However, I did get the jeans! Then began bra hunting. But I'll leave that for tomorrow...

P.S. On a completely different note (and sorry about this), the shocking state of our world never ceases to horrify me. I can't quite comprehend how a person could reach this point in life. Committing suicide is a horrible enough thing, but deciding to take other people with you, innocent people who you do not even know, who have nothing to do with your situation; that bewilders and sickens me. It makes me so sad.

EDIT (11.53PM): And on another note entirely, I still freaking like Chris. A lot. Can someone tell him that? Since he doesn't seem to know and I don't even see him or get to talk to him, really... I'm so confused!

2009-04-06T19:05:00.003+09:30

Three days of school left and till my dad gets home. Thank god on both counts.

Yeah that's all for tonight. At the moment at least. To homework.

EDIT (10.44PM) : I'm so, so sick of feeling alone.

In other news, however, I'm pretty happy to have been invited to a friend's birthday celebrations next week, considering that I haven't done anything with school friends in a very long time, least of all been to a birthday party, and I hate that I've let my friendships with a lot of people slide due to, well, other things. It should be fun, and I'm glad to hang out with these people, most of whom I have never done anything outside of school with, because of timing and circumstances. I'm talking crap. ;P I'm just sick of talking about it, really. And I am not going to drink too much and be the crying in the corner drunk he heard about when he was still new. Besides, that only happened once. Never again.

Oh and just found out that another friend, who used to be a good friend, well it's her birthday soon too. Yeah. I really hate how so many of my friendships have pretty much died because of one thing. I can't explain how much that sucks.

I'm really not good for blogging today. My brain is mush.

EDIT (11.08PM): Honestly, I'm just miserable. What with school, people; shit, with life in general, I'm just tired and exhausted and need a break. I miss everyone and I don't have any energy and I just want to sleep for a million years.

Just Waiting for Proof that there’s Sunsets and Silhouette Dreams

2009-04-05T20:41:00.004+09:30

I know that this blog was supposed to be positive, and even though I’m incredibly confused and scared and practically running around in circles during the few minutes when my head isn’t stuck five feet under the ground in order to avoid reality, well, I still think I’m in a much better place than, well, where I was when I wrote a certain post on my LiveJournal which I have only just re-read. Let me tell you, I do not ever want to be back there again. (Not LiveJournal, but in how I was thinking and feeling during that post ;P)

The post is dated the 30th of September, 2008, and I’m pretty much incoherent. I can’t even formulate sentences. As for what I’m detailing with the words I’m getting out, that’s pretty scary too. I wanted to die, and I say that, several times over.

Here are some excerpts. “I don't want to be dead. But I don't want to be alive… I'm dying inside. No I feel already dead. So then why am I still crying constantly. Why do I still feel so sick all the time, I can't even walk, can't talk, I collapsed the other day at home, i couldn't stand up anymore, i practically fell to sit on the floor… I think I fucking lost my heart when I read those words. I don't want to keep going. But there's nothing else to do. I'm not so stupid as to kill myself... I can't even breathe properly. i didn't know i could cry this much. i want to die. i really just do. I can't even explain what i'm thinking. please just let me die. i can't do this. i want to cut myself into a million shreds, to reflect the pieces of my heart. I am struggling for words. I don't know what i'm doing or saying, i can't focus or concentrate... I want to die.”

It actually terrifies me to remember feeling that. My mind just would not work, and I would come home after school and cry and cry and could not physically speak, I couldn’t sleep and when I did, I’d have dream after dream that I could not handle. I didn’t do any school work, and I have no idea how I held myself together at school at all. It was like I was in the most terrible nightmare, and I kept pleading with my mind to let me wake up, but what was the worst was that I knew it was real, and I wouldn’t wake up. I’m overdramatic, I know. But that’s what it felt like. This is before the hospital incident, which occurred two days before our school’s final music night for the year, and which I have yet to write about properly.

Even looking back to the early posts of this blog, there are some moments when I’m pretty emo, or whatever you want to call it. I wouldn’t say “depressed” because I’m not comfortable with using that word in relation to myself; I don’t think I’ve ever had depression but many people and tests beg to differ. And come to think of it, I’d never use the term “emo” to describe someone else feeling like that, except if it was a joke. That, however, is neither here nor there.

We all expected there’d be setbacks, anyway. No one is happy all the time. So here’s some evidence of how much better I am – 2nd of July 2008 was the last time I hurt myself. Even with how I was feeling above, I could not, would not give in. I knew that would have made it even worse. My friends, yes, those ones, were the reason I stopped in the first place, and that, in a way, made me want to, because I didn’t have them anymore; but I knew I had to, or it would only make things worse. It’s hard to explain…

It hurts rather a lot that they were the reason I stopped and now, well, it doesn’t matter to them either way; at least, that is what I’m guessing. But it’s my fault myfault. That is what hurts most I guess. Actually, I can’t pinpoint it to one thing about it that is the worst, it’s all of it together. But that is not what this post is about.

You might not believe that I’m getting better. Sometimes I don’t believe it myself. Sometimes I feel like I’m desperately trying to keep myself together even as I am falling irreparably apart, and that even when I think I’m doing okay, I’m not really. And sure, these moments have been occurring more than usual lately, since this incident. But when I manage to work up the courage to actually get said incident sorted out and dealt with, I think I’m going to keep becoming a more positive person, or whatever the hell it is. With being happy with myself, and thus being able to be a better friend. And all that jazz.

Anyway I’m off to watch some TV, and it’s not even NCIS for a change. ;)

Love to all my blogging friends

xx

I’d say it was a “foot in mouth” moment but,

2009-04-05T14:49:00.008+09:30

Well, I hate feet and thus, the entire concept is rather… vulgar, to my mind, so I steer well clear of that phrase whenever possible. So anyway, about a month and a a half ago, when Italics Boy was in the picture (Have I mentioned how every time I type “Italics Boy” it makes me think of an Italian, due to the similarity between the two words? He is,however, not Italian, if you were wondering…) as the guy I liked, we were in town for the day. After wandering around for hours, we resorted to visiting Target.[Today in church I froze...]
As we walked through the men’s clothing section, I was pointing out shirts I liked and recommended for him. I stopped in front of one and said, “This would be a really nice shirt, if it weren’t for the crappy buttons; they ruin it completely.”
[...during the songs while memories of you played through my head.]
His response - “I have that shirt.”
[Biting my lip to stop the tears.]
Shit. “Really?”
[And then, the other thing,the whole sex thing]
“Yeah.”
[the memories of that joined in.]
Shiiiit. [It's hard to take.]
[ I know it's my fault. But that doesn't stop me from missing you.]
Cue awkward silence in which Toivoa is sufficiently embarrassed.

Edit [7.14PM]: I can't help it. I have fought it for years and years, but it remains. Why God why? It is true, I love Kelly Clarkson... On the other hand, I do want stab Lady GaGa in the face. And that makes me feel a lot better about myself ;PRemember when Random came to the school and Jon got his chest autographed by the singer saying he would marry him? Remember how we were planning t he wedding..? Only thing I'd add to that memory is the other one, she was later, and not soon enough... And I miss moments like that. I'd not have given up any chance to spend even a moment with you if I'd have known where we would be now.

Good News / Bad News?

2009-04-04T21:28:00.007+10:30

I am really missing Chris.

P.S. I really want to someday find someone for me who the lyrics of this song will be just right for -

Here [In Your Arms] - Hellogoodbye Music Code

Update (11.41PM) : I have a confession. I'm delaying getting off the computer as much as I can, even with my mum yelling at me (a lot), because I don't want to go to bed. And to sleep. Where I will be alone.

I'm so scared to be alone. I just want someone, anyone to converse with.