Amateur Youth Writing Faction

Untitled.

2009-11-09T13:22:00.003+11:00

We all have stories. This is one of mine.

I recall waking up one June morning, already hearing the rain outside. How I missed the summer! Somehow it seems that all the negative thoughts – all the self-doubt, loneliness, and depression – have such ease in gaining power over the mind during the seemingly endless stretch of grey, cold, bitter-wet winter.

It is the last winter, however, that brought and still brings me the most worry. I remember the first mention of that awful diagnosis in my household.
Depression.
In those long, long months as the days lost more colour and all things turned to shades of grey, the darker and more deepening hollowness of my sister grew. It scared me so. It scares me so. Wind, rain, and hail can leave a person drenched, freezing, numb. But my sister was numb without any of these. She would spend her days in bed; my mother spent hers in tears. But what was I, the ‘baby sister’ supposed to do? I remember wishing I could fix it. Praying I could fix it. But the rain kept on falling.

As the days stretched into weeks and into months, I summoned every fibre of strength within me. This was my family, the stitches that held us together were straining and tearing, and all I could do was hold on. I don’t know whether I can say I formed a resolve, or if it was always in me, but somewhere in my childhood I appointed myself as protector. No-one would see me cry. No-one would see my sister if she was. Nothing would hurt my mother. Not while I was there. Not while I am here.

As a fifteen-year-old, this was a hard pretence to keep up. I hid my tears in the dark of my bed at night, longing for a break in the storm. Longing for spring, or summer, where all the joys of life – warmth, holidays, freedom, sunshine – seemed protected, safe and unchangeable. All unpleasantness remained forgotten in those months.

It was naïve to believe in my self-appointed role. Looking back at it now, I still feel the defence, but then I didn’t know my limits. I did not understand. Maybe I still don’t. I analyse and analyse, thinking of what I could have done, what I could do to make my sister better. But that power is not in me. It is in her. And though weather and seasons may parallel the distresses in our minds, it is not in them. For my sister, the illness is as a season of winter. It comes around, and it may feel as if it will never pass. My role is to be strong, but to remind her, as much as myself, spring will come around and again. And eventually, so will summer – days of warmth and joy. Winter can not last forever. Though it affects us deeply and heavily, shocking and surprisingly, horribly and devastatingly; it will pass.

Consumption.

2009-02-07T20:59:00.001+11:00

A year ago I did a voluntary training course to help raise awareness for child and slave labor. It left a large impact on my life, although I didn’t know it then and I didn’t play the role of the passionate activist too well, it did help me uncover some of my morals and awakened a humanitarian spark from its slumber deep within my heart. After this course I remember the vivid feeling of wanting to leave some sort of mark, an impact, a difference in my world. I knew I didn’t have to be a revolutionary like Guevara or claim a country without violence like Gandhi. I just wanted to set an example. From then onward I dropped my dollars into rattling tins supporting various causes, bought burgers for the homeless, and also purchased wristbands and necklaces which were made by people from underdeveloped towns and villages.

I walk down Bourke St and see the collection of nine-to-fiver’s garbed in their Versace shirts and watch their D&G bags dance by their hips. I have no shame in expressing my hypocritical views, sure I’ve bought designer clothing, I have overlooked $60 jeans and bought the $90 pair because they are right shade of blue. But trivial things such as the importance of stitching and label of a garment is something I cannot understand. Why pay significantly more just to have some alloted ink aligned to make a picture that means something fashionable? Because a celebrity is wearing a jacket with a certain brand, we, as the consumers, consume that brand and believe it is worth wearing because someone who means nothing (and everything) to us is wearing it.

Why do we think things look good anyway? It is as if we are pressured to validate our appearance or else we are left behind. How much of it is influence, from everyone around us doing and purchasing the same thing, and how much of it truly comes from ourselves? We are so beyond survival all we can do is elevate and relegate the hierarchy of our social status in a place where vanity is not for ourselves but for the approval of other people. I read once that ‘vanity gives us the delusion that somebody is paying attention’, in other words, we dress with the aim of NOT being comfortable, but for making ourselves known to the world. Our labels send a certain message that shouts out how we like to spend, how proud we are to rub it in and how we like to maintain ourselves.

There is nothing we need and so much that we want, and I wouldn’t have a problem with there brands and labels if perhaps they directed a small sum of their money to something as effective as a good cause. As I said, I buy designer clothing, but after realizing I bought these items for the sake of owning an extra pair of shoes or jeans I know that I wanted to change this.

Losing myself in these crowds.

2008-12-12T00:09:00.001+11:00

I've been struggling to write even the most simple blogs lately and I kept giving up once I start. Let's write about love, I say, my relationship, let's write about the poor guy on the street, maybe someone will learn something if I write about the economy. All of those topics are very insightful but they are not the real issues revolving around in my head at the moment. Perhaps I distracted myself with thoughts of other things to avoid deeper issues, or maybe I have a hard time being honest, not to other people, but to myself. So instead of feeding people (who for some reason appreciate the things I write, I don't know how you guys stay interested), I feel like this blog is for me. This is for reference and a constant reminder not to lead a life of false pretenses, socioeconomic expectations and proxy ambitions.

Some things are known to have a 'way' in life. The 'way' things are. And because these things are expected to be that way, I'm expected to be a certain way too. I'm sorry to disappoint the social expectations of the world but I take pride in not following a lot of these trends: having sex with someone I didn't care about, never taking a drug, embracing monogamy, wearing the clothes that I felt comfortable in, appreciating underrated music and probably others that I can't think of right now.

I'm tired of people telling me how to act, or even asking me why I act unlike my stereotypes. After repeatedly being hammered by these shallow observations it makes me wonder why I'm not a louder personality, who wears less clothes, listens to more commercial music, smokes a deck a day and fornicates in toilet cubicles. I've received the worst reactions when people ask me about my sex-life. I'm guilty of waiting for someone, I didn't throw myself at the thousand opportunities I had (and believe me they are in the thousands) to bed someone and throw my experiences away.

I thoroughly believe in living for the moment, forgetting about the consequences of tomorrow and to treat each day like it's my last. But I also have morals. Just because I have the chance to have sex simultaneously with two other people (no matter how great it feels), just because people now say that it's ok to use sex as a pass time activity, doesn't mean I do it. I have morals and it's sickening that these kind of experiences are expected of me and worse, at such a young age.

I'm not going to lie, I've had the bitter taste after sexual contact with the flooding thoughts of: 'was it worth it', 'why do I feel empty' and 'this person means nothing to me'. I feed temptation to find that I'm not actually fulfilling a need for myself but rather having my innocence sapped and leaving me hollow inside. I don't have a superman complex, I'm not perfect and I'm okay with that. I have desires and lust for certain things, but I know I can help what I do by advocating altruism. We do have the ability to think and to act, but we don't always do things in that order. But at least I can say I try.

"Be the change you wish to see in the world", a quote by Ghandi, a quote I live by. I used to be so proud to endorse this quote but over the course of the year the words slowly bent and warped to bring a different meaning, something like: "Dont change, be like the world". After being drilled over and over with the same opinions, standards and expectations by a group of people, their words have a way of falling out of your own mouth eventually. I start to think like them, I have the desire to be desired, to dress in an impressing fashion, to have certain opinions on certain things. This is a common form of influence and probably the strongest. It's true when people say that being around better people makes you a better person. That doesn't mean avoid homeless people or don't choose to be friends with someone who might take a recreational drug here and there. It means that if you suffocate yourself long enough with other peoples thoughts, there is a high chance that their thoughts will be your thoughts after a while.

Finally, I'm tired of people telling me I'm just 19. I know what I am. People can say I'm young but no one ever explains themselves. I honestly believe that there are people younger than me (who are much more knowledgeable and mature) who can outwit people a decade older than them. Age has proven to be nothing significant. I know with age comes experience, but so to comes ignorance. People use their age to disregard the thoughts and experiences of other people just because of their age. It's hypocritical and it is a refusal on poor bases. Don't let anyone disregard you because of your age. You know, it's good to feel young no matter how old you are. We might be perceived as a lazy generation but there are people as young as twelve who invent things that the world is using today. It is so important to never stop learning, not in the text book sense, but in the worldly sense. Eat foreign foods, with foreign utensils, watch a black and white film, listen to a new genre of music, write a story, learn some new words and build your vocabulary, go somewhere you've never been, all of these things help us learn and understand our world better. The biggest tragedy I see are older people who feel old enough to know enough and grow older being ignorant and using their age as a valid excuse for being wise. Wisdom is all around, it is shared. No one knows everything. Who can honestly say "you'll know when you're older" or "you don't know" when quite possibly they don't know themselves.

I'm sorry that all of this is so disjointed, but I've finally got some things off my chest. If you read this please comment your thoughts, a quote, your own piece on how you see yourself or ANYTHING! I'd love more than anything to read what you have to say, anything at all.

"Nobody wants to end up like Eleanor Rigby"

2008-10-29T11:03:00.000+11:00

Don't you know that I never fell
Into a love that I was pushed
Confused a snatch for a catch
Confused a sheep for a wolf

Oh, your knowing eyes
They’d never tell a lie
That’s why you don’t talk
That's why I make you try

Let’s say for instance
There is nine years indifference
In a world that lacks persistence
To make things come around
Let’s say for instance
There were nine years of distance
Where other people touched you
Long before I was found

I got into something, now I can’t get out
I got into something, now I can’t get out
With your lips pressed against mine
It’s getting hard to shout

I thought I could run around the world
I made it to the door
I thought I could run around the world
I made it to the door
Was this what we hoped for?

War

2008-09-23T18:37:00.001+10:00

Inside my chest feels like a war.
My heart doesn’t pound against my ribs like it used to.
With excitement or joy, warmth or love.
I feel like I have a weight pushing down on me.
And even though my body becomes more and more uncomfortable to live in each week, it’s not the weight I keep stacking on that’s giving me this feeling of pressure.
I have a mix in my life, a balance of work and education. Something I’ve always hoped would bring me responsibility and stability in my life.
I have a social life with a few different small groups of friends. We smile. We laugh. We sing. We dance.
I’ve enjoyed the groups that I’ve been with. At times my heart is lifted, and the pressure seems to dissapear, just like it does when I’m unconsciously asleep.
But now, I can’t keep my brave façade visible, because the hurt that’s going on inside is pushing through. Hopefully trying to escape my body, to rid me of this horrible feeling.
I feel awful. I feel foul. My mood has become increasingly sombre yet ferocious.
I wonder at times, when I’m in my bath, when I’m driving my car, when I’m walking along a balcony of a 10 story building.
Should I drop in that hair dryer? Should I drive into that tree, oncoming traffic, off of that cliff? Should I just jump off?
These thoughts snap me into reality, and frighten me away from such things. But then the pain and pressure I feel comes back, as I realise I have to deal with these feelings before I act soo radically.
I’m afraid of how I feel and how it affects others. Or if those others can even notice it, let alone ask me what is wrong.
I’m becoming increasingly cynical and depressed, and I’m afraid of being swallowed whole.

"For myself I am an optimist - it does not seem to be much use being anything else."

2008-09-17T21:49:00.001+10:00

University is a place for learning, for excelled learning. In the course of 12 weeks you are assumed to be smarter in an area you subscribed to. But somewhere along the way you have to wonder, am I here to learn about Aboriginal injustice, the study of language or the theory of existentialism or am I so sick of learning about everything I have no interest in that I'm just aching for my degree? I'm certainly not saying that whole-heartedly, there is so much I love to learn and I find myself extremely engaged at times, but for the most part, university is a set of tests on things not many of us have interest in.

Today I sat in the library, completely thrown off learning I decided to entice myself with a book I brought from home. It was 'Like The Flowing River' a book that has taken me so long to read but has proven to be such an unbelievable, inspiring collection of thoughts and reflections. I'm glad I didn't read this in one sitting, I treated it like a journey, I went at a slow pace- giving the pages worth and letting their contents and meanings grow. I thoroughly enjoy this book.

The toughest issue I've had to face is the 'rest of my life'. What am I doing for the rest of my life? I struggled with this question a lot. Whenever I ask this question, a thousand others will follow. Where is home? What do you want to be remembered for? Where do you want to go? What do you want to do? What is important to you? And so on.

This is what I narrowed the rest of my life down to. I want to give my all to all of the world. I want to teach. More specifically I want to teach English to people who want to learning English. Not in primary or secondary schools. In centres and universities, and places across the world to help build bridges between communities.

I want to see the world. There is so much to see for just one person and I want to see as much as I possibly can. This endeavor was difficult to conceive at first. To see the world, as a pilgrim, as a traveler, as an adventurer, it had to be done alone. But that's wrong. Self discovery, to my surprise is a journey that cannot be completed within ourselves without others to guide us. I believe the world is designed not live on islands alone, but to build bridges between each island to meet each other. And so, this is why I travel. Not only to see the deserts, villages, cities, forests and valleys, but to meet the people who live off the desert, cities, forests and valleys. That is the culture of the world, "there are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign."
Sure history is flooded in every towns' museum, but I'm there to experience the town, not learn how others experienced it.

The concept of home to me holds a strange meaning. I want to keep moving. I don't ever want to establish myself in one place. Home is a state of mind, home is the people I'm with, the feeling I get where I think 'this is sanctuary, this is where I feel safe'. I treat the idea of 'home' more as a destination, a place I want to be after everything, rather than where I sleep each night.

Finally, in the chance that I may ever fall in love, compromises must be made. Some things may even be revoked and undoubtedly justified. I accept that 'my' life will become 'our' lives, and of course: one and one make one. I have confidence in fulfilling each others dreams, aspirations, goals, aims and hopes; if we dont- then we will die trying to do that.

"Tourists don't know where they've been, travelers don't know where they're going." - Paul Theroux

Amendment: A lot of people say I'm naive, so I retitled my blog to express how I feel about that opinion. Kudos to Sir Winston Churchill.

Apples

2008-09-06T15:42:00.001+10:00

I have a bunch of apples in front of me.
gala, lady, delicious, smith.
They're all calling to me.
I want to sink my teeth into all of them.
They're so tempting to me.
And i can't stand it.
But i must be reserved.
Because these apples are out of reach.
And i'm already stuck with oranges!

A person, a paper, a promise.

2008-07-07T11:28:00.001+10:00

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.

(This poem is from a book called 'the perks of being a wallflower' by Stephen Chbosky.)

A love so deep...

2008-07-02T00:13:00.002+10:00

She walked along the beach and felt the sun soaking into her skin. A warmth so comforting, and one which she'd missed. Around her lay the creations of her Father - those which he'd made a time so long ago that she couldn't even comprehend where his ideas came from. A time so long ago that His creations had even changed a little. Time does that to things. It can make what was once beautiful, ugly. And it can make what was once ugly, beautiful. Time can do a lot of things, but she knew it wouldn't change the way she loved Him.

The world around seemed to disappear as she let her thoughts wander. To a stranger or passer by she looked to be alone, but she knew better. She smiled a glorious smile, all to herself. Her Father was still with her, somehow. She didn't need to know the answers - she just needed Him. Her smile disappeared as she gazed at the ocean. Her face now held a different expression - one that is hard to describe. Her eyes were filled with tears, but not the sort which come from pain. Such passion and joy as cannot be described were written into each tear, but they did not fall from her eyes. She breathed deeply, filled with a love so deep, so intense, so full.

The sun reflected a million stars onto the ocean. The wonder and beauty left her lost for words. But she didn't need words. He knew how she felt. And as she stood there, loving Him for all that He is, but only truly knowing a fraction of His glory, she couldn't help but think that this creation was made just for her.

yes or no?

2008-06-25T13:25:00.000+10:00

"The justification of sacrifice, that your morality, propounds, is more corrupt than the corruption it purports to justify. The motive of your sacrifice, it tells you, should be love - the love you ought to feel for every man. A morality that professes the belief that the values of the spirit are more precious than matter, a morality that teaches you to scorn a whore who gives her body indiscriminately to all men - this same morality demands that you surrender your soul to promiscuous love for all comers.

"As there can be causeless wealth, so there can be no causeless love or any sort of causeless emotion. An emotion is a response to a fact of reality, an estimate dictated by your standards. To love is to value. The man who tells you that it is possible to value without values, to love those whom you appraise as worthless, is the man who tells you that it is possible to grow rich by consuming without producing and that paper money is as valuable as gold.

"Observe that he does not expect you to feel a causeless fear. When his kind get into power, they are expert at contriving means of terror, at giving you ample cause to feel the fear by which they desire to rule you. But when it comes to love, the highest of emotions, you permit them to shriek at you accusingly that you are a moral delinquent if you're incapable of feeling causeless love. When a man feels fear without reason, you call him to the attention of a psychiatrist; you are not so careful to protect the meaning, the nature and the dignity of love.

"Love is the expression of one's values, the greatest reward you can earn for the moral qualities you have achieved in your character and person, the emotional price paid by one man for the joy he receives from the virtues of another. Your morality demands that you divorce your love from values and hand it down to any vagrant; not as reward, but as alms, not as a payment for virtues, but as a blank check on vices. Your morality tells you that the purpose of love is to set you free of the bonds of morality, that love is superior to moral judgement; that true love transcends, forgives and surives every manner of evil in its object, and the greater the love the greater the depravity it permits to the loved. To love a man for his virtues is paltry and human, it tells you; to love him for his flaws is divine. To love those who are worthy of it is self-interest; to love the unworthy is sacrifice. You owe your love to those who don't deserve it, and the less they deserve it, the more love you owe them - the more loathsome the object, the nobler your love - the more unfastidious your love, the greater the virtue - and if you can bring your soul to the state of a dump heap that welcomes anything on equal terms, if you can cease to value moral values, you have achieved the state of moral perfection."

-from Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand

Art and Interpretation.

2008-06-20T21:37:00.001+10:00

About a week ago I was sitting with my friend on this comfy couch at the Crown Casino looking at the sets of chandeliers across the tall ceiling. We shared one of those golden silences and it was broken when she asked me about my thoughts on an artist who took photos of naked teens and called it 'art'.

The pictures of the naked children were in a gallery in Italy but it was closed down before it opened. A minority of people expressed that it was pornography, rather than art and this uproar caused the artworks to be closeted from the public eye. These are my thoughts:

If a man walked into the gallery looking for art, he will find art. If a pervert walked into the gallery looking for pornography, he will find pornography. Art is, and always will be, based on interpretation. Coincidentally, about a week ago I flicked through quotes by dead people (something I do more than I should) and found a quote by Gloria Leonard, a porn actress. She said "the difference between pornography and erotica is lighting."
I think Ms. Leonard was making light of the perception of pornography and erotica when she said this because though everyone is looking at the same thing, it is often viewed with different angles.

The man who was second best.

2008-06-15T23:39:00.000+10:00

Everyone loves the winner. He tries so hard and often is followed by a remarkable success story. Who deserves the winning trophy more than the winner himself? I don't have anything against winners, but the person who comes runner-up will always take my heart. The person who was known for trying and not succeeding and still manages to hold his head up high. He is proud, because he simply tried. He failed and he works harder. He loses but he isn't a loser. So to every runner-up in the world, be proud of not succeeding the first time, but never accepting failure, because it is you who keeps me going in the end. Thanks.

With age comes ignorance.

2008-06-10T13:31:00.000+10:00

There is probably a 7 year old child who has experienced so much more than any one of us and will not know how to put it into words. There is probably an 80 year old man who was too scared to step outside of his house and experienced nothing, with nothing to teach because he was frightened to learn. There are people who think they know more than you, who have 'experienced more' just because of their status, their fame, their age especially. No one knows everything and no one can possibly judge how much someone else knows. If someone flunked school, does that mean they are unintelligent? Einstein didn't even make it through school and now he is and always will be one of the most well-known scientists of all time. When someone tells you, you're too young, you don't know, you'll find out one day; don't believe them. Grasp absolutely everything and learn from every moment. Even learn from the people who are too ignorant to know that curiosity and imagination are the tools used to seek discovery.

I believe the most smartest, hopeful and influential people are the onces who once were told they were crazy, stupid and unrealistic. As for me, I like reality, it's a nice place, I wouldn't live there though.

Short Fiction: "Cigarettes"

2008-06-03T22:53:00.000+10:00

She lit a cigarette, sucked it in and as she exhaled the sickening scent gradually sapped her anger and left with the crisp autumn air. As her emotion escaped her she was stuck with the one person she hated most. Herself. Because facing herself was hard. It was better to have an inner demon of anger or despair to blame for such spontaneous outbursts, but when her peaking emotions were drained, there was nothing but a hollow woman leaning on a balcony watching the clouds silhouette the moon. Tonight she felt destined to be alone, there was no company the night could give her. Even the moon hid from her.

The mood of the past five minutes was gone. There was nothing. Her mind had stopped and her emotions extracted. But she knew this would not last. Inside the room lay the rest of her life that she had to face. She wanted to stay outside. It felt timeless. But as she tried to avoid her life, the re-commencement was inevitable.

For one night she wanted nothing to do with anything. No ties. No duties. No jobs. Nothing that could lead to anything else. This is why she smoked cigarettes. The addictive drug that claimed lives, and willingly, it claimed her own. She wanted to be content in one moment. Constantly moving forward tired her and she merely wanted to stay in a single moment of her life and take it all in. Life was too fast for someone who only wanted to breathe.

Two people in different places.

2008-05-28T23:54:00.003+10:00

They said "I don't think you should worry about finding love. Just remember to take your heart wherever you go."

I sat there and I smiled at how simple a task it was to take my heart wherever I went. I really like those simple answers from such complex questions.

Assignments

2008-05-23T00:16:00.002+10:00

Motivation is hard to find in a teenage boy who only ever wants to sleep, eat or socialize with people he wants to socialize with. It's not that the teenage boy does not want to achieve or pave a path to a prosperous future, he just wants to savior the moments of being completely dependent and un-relied upon by his family. It is a supreme once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I don't know if the actions I take are always the best. I don't know if living life the way I push myself to live it is 'right' either. There is no right way to life. We all have been thrown into different situations, we are each facing some sort of battle, we have each fought our own demons in our life.

Personally, I have found that the most hardest obstacle to overcome in my life, is myself. Anyone can tell me to do anything, but whether I do it is up to me. Anything that happens in life is up to the way I perceive it. Anything I am taught, I can choose to learn or disregard. Not everyone with do things that people tell them to do. Not everyone will see a tragedy or an epiphany when you do and people will refuse to learn about something they won't care about. We shape who we are. Sometimes I wonder if I am doing it right.

I wonder if I have spoken to the right people and made the right friends, spent my time effectively and been who I want to have been and not what I want others to see me as. I'm scared of the paths I've taken and the choices I've made. Were they right or wrong? Do they mean anything at all?

I think all of these things and then suddenly realize that I would never care about such things if I acted as myself, did things I wanted to do and learned as much as I possibly could. To wonder if you've made the right choice is pointless once it's been made. All you can really do is accept things, such as yourself, for who/ what they are.

And of course, one teenage boy right now at this moment is neglecting his assignment to write this down. To waste time, to find an excuse or just for the sake of writing something, he chose to write something down.

money

2008-05-14T08:45:00.002+10:00

i heard someone talking to her husband about a relative who pours the plastic packets of soy sauce from chinese restaurants into his soy sauce bottle at home, apparently to save money. her husband said, "i guess he thinks his time isn't worth any more than that."

One Dollar Plus One Dollar Equals Three Dollar$

2008-05-11T20:17:00.002+10:00

I recently and heavily discussed the true meaning of a ‘holiday’ on the public calendar such as; Easter, Mother/Father’s Day, Birthday’s and Christmas.

It was not hard to get the person fired up since ‘they’ were speaking of behalf of ‘them.’

Firstly, I pointed out that advertising business’, particularly, America, is to blame for the over dramatic-commercialism that brainwashes unsuspecting mild intelligent human’s.

There comes a time in all our lives, supposedly, where we celebrate mothers just for that one day in May. I suggested what is wrong with the other possible 364 days of the year to show people affection? Although it’s this one day in May where everyone rushes down to the local shop to buy the crap on the shelves, wrap it, and send it. This somehow makes out that the deed is done for anther year when in actual fact their contributing to their own downfall, since they have to better their gifts for the year following.

Apparently, this holds more significance than any other day in the year to send a person a ‘gift’. Naturally, we’re all reminded of this, because of the billions of dollars wasted in spending plus sending you and me junk mail that reads;
MOTHERS DAY THIS WEEKEND, BUY HER CRAP AT MY SHOP THIS YEAR

I’m not a religious person but I know this occurs with Easter as well. The death of Jesus Christ is a good enough reason to eat a ten dollar pack of chocolates? I can’t see that as a strong reason to mark an occasion.

Birthday’s as well, it’s a well known fact that people may say ‘Oh, you shouldn’t have…’ or ‘I don’t want anything this year...’ but deep down in their sub-conscious small mind that they really wanted that toy or designer dress they had been waiting for since their last birthday.

Not forgetting the biggest ‘holiday’ of them all; Christmas. Sometimes money can divide a family rather then bringing together on the most ‘joyful’ day of the year. Money also contributes to the mud we all stand waist high in, known only as, debt.

When a person pointed out, that there are also days like, ‘Earth Day’ I begun wondering how many people gave this ‘holiday’ a second thought? Or fact that they never even heard of ‘Earth Day,’ highlights the difference of ‘important’ and ‘unimportant’ ‘holidays.’

I very much doubt that I’ll live to see the day where everybody stops celebrating such occasions without stronger convictions.

Maybe I’m too much of a persistent thinker.

Or maybe I’m just a realistic thinker.

You be the judge.

What do you think...?

Deaths Cycle (Poem)

2008-05-04T17:57:00.004+10:00

Forever lost in heavy mist blinded, consumed by darkness, it hates.
It ponders lifelessly, soullessly it wonders the forgotten palace it calls home.

Distracted by the blackness of its body, it assumes battle plans.
Undoubtedly craving for souls, it gives off a cloudy aura.

You can not kill it for it can only kill you, do not fear it for it does not fear you.
At the sound of death it hunts, lusting for fresh souls, it appears.

Struggle all you want for when it is your time, its your time.
It casts a deadly fear in your eyes, you will scream.

You are cast into oblivion, where you find darkness.
Roam freely for the world you have been cast has no end.

You are forever lost in a heavy mist blinded, consumed by darkness, you hate.
You ponder lifelessly, soullessly you wonder the forgotten palace you call home.

You are now it.

*I would never really post such a dark poem, im genuinely more toward life like poetry. This is just resembling how i have been feeling the last couple weeks.*

A Sentence Tells A Story

2008-05-01T13:30:00.003+10:00

We have all heard the cliche 'A picture tells a 1000 words' well i decided to look a little further into it and found out that its the Chinese proverb where in actual fact the literal translation is:

A Picture's Meaning Can Express Ten Thousand Words.

I started to think about it and thought of something similar which actually caught me by surprise. 'A Sentence Tell A Story'. If we can really express ten thousand words just by looking at a picture then i believe a sentence can reveal a story.

It may not turn out to be a true story but if our minds can come up with ten thousand words then our minds can also turn a sentence into a story. Take this for example: "He was only 16 when he looked right up into the sky to view the clouds as they passed by resembling time lost now that he is 30".

The story does not have to come out being as big as the 'Harry Potter' series but if you thought about that sentence i do believe our minds would be running around with ideas for a story.

To many kids and teens these days take their minds for granted.

Just a little thought i had i found to be interesting. What do you think?

march

2008-04-29T14:34:00.001+10:00

months later
we are less like lovers
and more like students

[i'm hoping none of you read my other blog, because i've just despicably double posted.]

Feels Like Home

2008-04-23T19:49:00.003+10:00

The air so heavenly, it feels so surreal
This place feels somehow familiar
The wind passing through the tree leaves
This place feels like home.

Everything here is so gentle
A sense of warmth that attracts a smile
Everything around me gives off a happy aura
This place feels like home.

I feel i traveled so very far to get here
There are some old friends here to
I feel there is something different
This place feels like home

So different; so much that i like it
Safe, Secure and far from trouble
Flowers are blooming here
This place feels like home

Sudden flashes of white light
I wonder if this is a dream
No, this is no dream
This place feels like home

Because this is home
This is my dream
My dream come true
I finally made it.

Im in heaven.

R.I.P Nan - Love you always and forever.

My philosophy on friendship

2008-04-16T09:51:00.001+10:00

Without other people, I would not be myself. Without help from others, I would give up. Without someone else caring, I wouldn't care about myself. But when someone else is in trouble, it is VERY important you return the favor and without owing anything, you do everything you can to help them. Because that's just what friends do. And that is what makes us who we are. Because together we really are unstoppable. But alone we can only be stopped.

Her Scream Resides - James

2008-04-14T21:43:00.004+10:00

Just like a cloud in the sky, in time it fades away
Just like the sound of your voice getting softer
Feeling the heat rise up pressuring your decisions
Choking the life right out of you...

Would you want it any other way
What would you want me to say
Its all over, its to late
your decisions lead to your fate
Her scream resides…

Life for you came to a hold; it began to blur

You wished you were a never-ending story

Feeling your way through life as if you new what was next

Not everyone’s wish comes true…

Would you want it any other way
What would you want me to say
Its all over, its to late
your decisions lead to your fate
Her scream resides…

There is no perfect ending

Words wouldn’t have changed anything

Would you have the world known you tried?

These are my last words before you died

You wanted there to be some other way

There was something you wanted me to say

Its not over, Its not to late

Your decisions lead to your fate

Her scream resided...

It wasn't until a complete stranger asked me...

2008-04-13T21:08:00.003+10:00

"What would you do if you knew you couldn't fail?" that I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

And in my mind I had said: "Well...I'd like to build an orphanage, I suppose."

The man then stared into the crowd and said "Well why haven't you?"

Amendment: For anyone that lives in Australia, you may know that orphanages do not actually exist and have been replaced with foster and state care. So building an orphanage was more of a directional answer than a solid and direct one. I'd like to imagine myself involving youth in whatever career I choose in life.

Recognition Is A Reward Fit For A King

2008-04-10T21:11:00.002+10:00

'Thank You'

Its a recognition of the deed you have done. Some people take it for granted and feel like it is not enough, no, they want more ... money and power. I would have to say recognition is a reward fit for a king.

Sure you do not gain money or power from a 'thank you' but you should have a little respect and gratitude, accept it as good faith and move on. Recognition is more powerful then most people realise. Some think its just a word, while others have a sense of accomplishment toward a unselfish deed.

To many people are forgetting the purpose of recognition, its not always about money, nor' is it always about power. Recognition is something you receive from an honest person in the world who struggled with something you were able to help with.

Genuine people who would go out of their own way to help someone in need should expect nothing more yet nothing less than a thank you. Just remember that a thank you is a reward for unselfishness, its recognition that you have done something good.

Cherish the words, they may not come often in this world.

The Honor Badge

2008-04-09T18:30:00.001+10:00

Honor can be brought back your virtues. Honor gives a social distinction of what is right and what is wrong. But is society always right and is honor only your pride on your sleeve? How important to you is it to be good and how important to you is it to be be good and better than everyone else? Not only that, but to show your honor. Honor is given and never bought. It is something that has to be earned, but I can't say I appreciate, no matter how well intended, honor can be when its thrown around to belittle others. People flash their pride and expect us to feel bad for ourselves.

Recently I experienced the feeling of my dream being crushed by someone's deceitfully powerful hands. How can someone destroy your dream? By achieving it and doing better than you had envisioned. I take a bitterness toward that, which I believe to be wrong but my anger is good at taking control of things like this. When something hurts me (and believe me I am a masochist on the inside), its always an emotional hurt rather than physical. It's starting to leave scars.

I feel like I've changed, not because of surroundings, people or influences of some sort, but because continuous injurious events. Like any wound it becomes a scar if it goes deep enough. I don't see the point in honor, but dreams give people reasons to live. Reasons to hope and find something that is worth their lives dedication. I find honor to be something that shows on the outside and says nothing about the inside. Just like a badge. It seems like nothing more than a social recognition. There will always be reasons for why people are honored, and some of these people really have evoked incredible notions. But for me, I'd respect a poor man who tried and failed at everything he did and still wears a smile just a little more than the man who grew rich and studied and became the best. Not because of Honor, but because of his dreams.

zine

2008-04-09T14:19:00.004+10:00

hi everyone-

me and my friend patrick [i've posted on his account by accident, and from the looks of it he also commented on one of Bez's stories] have started a new zine called Tom-Tom - after the main character in The Million Dollar Hotel. we're putting together a mail subscription list, and i was wondering if any of you would like to be on it? send me an email with your address if you would. cost for the first issue is obviously nothing; we haven't worked out a price if you decide to keep getting them.

Today's Fight...

2008-04-08T21:01:00.003+10:00

The following is a piece of fiction and was not intended for any particular person.

“Inflict? Or Waiting?”

She slammed the door behind her. She turned on the computer, searching, finding, reaching for someone. She longed for closure and so much more. She was neither ugly nor the essence of beauty but her opinion was widespread.
She made herself be heard but couldn’t hear herself…

Her only friend was occupying the backyard. That friend never spoke back. Never gave her disloyalty but only acceptance. Every time the friend looked into her eyes, there was no hate, no disagreements and no blame shifting, but only its full attention for support. She could never ridicule the friend, no matter how bad she was tested.

Her assumption that; the lack of prevention was the key to unlocking the friendship door and letting freedom prevail. She tried to understand others when she wasn’t understandable. Her grip on the trophy was now slipping away with her hopes and emerging nightmares. She could no longer handle the insecurities of fate.

She turned off her computer.

Now silence.

Like the trees outside stretching it branches out to hold the sun.

She had forgiven the unforgettable, and forgotten the unforgivable.

The day was over, the damage had been done.

She went to sleep to prepare for tomorrow’s battle.

Footnote: I choose the title because it’s an anagram of
“Fictional Writing”
I should also point out that I rushed and compacted this in one night; usually I spend more than a week’s time coming up with fictional material.

yes?

2008-04-06T05:23:00.004+10:00

true love never can be rent
but only true love
can keep beauty innocent

Yesturday was Today, Tomorrow

2008-04-01T01:15:00.001+11:00

The following is a piece of fiction and was not intended for any particular person.

“Clarity”

The smell of gasoline invaded Jack’s nostrils as he stepped onto the bus. The street was busy, it was peak hour. No space for thinking. He regularly noted the amount of cars and people. There was always the old lady with the white handbag, the tall man in a pinstripe suit and most distinguishable of them all was a little girl with golden-straight hair. But of all of these details he made sure that he was safe, and not just on the bus.

Jack had become accustom to each and everyone’s company on-board. Like himself, for sitting only on the left-hand side, each one of them had their own distinct behavioural characteristics. Jack chuckled every time he would overhear the music through someone else’s headphones on the opposite end of the bus. If it wasn’t the music he was listening to, then it was the gentle calm whistling noise of the breeze passing by his ears when the windows are down. He would like to sometimes imagine that voices were talking to him through the wind, trying to reach out to him and tell him something valuable. He enjoyed the one and a half hour bus rides. Whenever he could, he would lay back deep into his seat, with closed eyelids and picture the rest of the journey home.

One afternoon, where the sun seemed to light-up every part of the bus, Jack noticed a person come onto the bus. This was no ordinary person; this was a person Jack had never seemed before on his rides home. He was curious as to what behavioural characteristic he was going to remember this person by. The skinny long legs, the dark coloured sunglasses identical with the hair would be enough he thought. The person had a tattoo on their ankle, he couldn’t make out what it was, but its importance was matched by the sheer size of it and amount of skin it was covering. The person gently sat down one seat in front of Jack, placing the almost-seemingly weightless bag beside them and falling back into the seat. Appearing to be asleep, Jack leaned forward enough from his seat to whisper, “Hi, are you new around here?”
Silence at first, rising from the seat and turning around was a snapped response,
“Afraid not, are you?”
Breaking a smile, Jack noted how friendly this person was by the facial expression;
“Nah, I live way out over there…”
He announced while pointing through the window into the distant nothingness.
“…But I do like it around here, there seems to be quite a number of quiet people so I guess it’s a nice feeling coming here”

From then on, the two spoke as if they knew each other their whole lives for the entire journey until the person bluntly interrupted Jack to mention their stop was next and will not return back onto the bus since it was only a one-off trip. Jack, apart from being a little sadden by this, was surprisingly upbeat since his day got better knowing he made at least one person happy today.
The person stepped off the bus, paused, turned around to wave once and starting walking. Jack nodded, waved once and pierced the sky to see how clear it was.

He thought he could change a person’s life today that would change his own life tomorrow.

To the wind (kiss me once more).

2008-03-20T16:25:00.012+11:00

how many people actually think about the wind? where did it start, when does it stop? who gave birth to the winds? was it the ocean that crashed and fought with the rocks in its way? did the ocean even need the wind or did the wind emerge from the voices of the water? why don't i notice when it kisses my face and tangles between my fingers and leaves me. and i walk in wander and wonder, a simultaneous movement from my mind to my feet. like a mechanical instrument that needs a chain of cogs to function. the further i walked the further i thought into this. i asked myself if the same breeze will ever come again to greet me. has it seen the world, has it seem me before? and as it blew away i was saddened that the wind would see the city, the desert, the ocean and the world all at once...and i would just walk home and hope it would return soon to tell me of all its adventures.

crush.love.lost.

2008-03-18T22:30:00.005+11:00

I think I'm the obsessive kind of lover. But I was not always that way, over time my heart had quietly longed for something, and its need grew. I'm the kind of guy who has been single for far too long to take the chance of 'taking things slow'. The kind that urges for some sort of reassurance. Had I of never met them I would never feel anything for them, but I have met them and I feel something. My feelings and thoughts often become confused with each other and I panic. Do I step back, or forward, or not at all? Do I tell the truth, use romanticized tactics or wait?

The other day I wrote down "I was inevitably crushed by a crush. Of course it was going to hurt. No matter how long you know someone, how well or even how much you think of them, a crush will always end. Always. From there it becomes nothing, or everything. The end or the beginning lies at the end of a crush's road. What I didn't accept from people was 'it wasn't meant to be', which I do not believe to be true whatsoever. If things happen for reasons and misfortune brings something that is 'not meant to be', then was it meant to be that I should have been crushed or even met the person in the first place?

And so now I sit here, not talking, just staring that computer screen with the longing for a 'hello' from the person I am destined never to be with. And I'll wait until the clock strikes twelve and I will give up. But my thoughts of them will continue. I felt invited to their lives only to arrive at the door with it being locked. Call me and lock me out. And now I have to walk home alone again."

What do you do in these situations? So many people cancel the theory of love at first sight and also won't believe that love can start as a seed and blossom into something beautiful. I'm repeatedly told that love won't work if two people do not feel the same from the start. Then were all those romance movies in vain? The girl who had it all vs. the guy who fell short of anything bearable in his life and yet he somehow 'won' her over.

Do you wait for them to be ready? Do you make the opportunities or wait for them to come? In a sense, a crush is the happiest kind of loneliness, so close to something and riding on the edge of what could be nothing at all. Just like the song, "There Is No Mathematics To Love and Loss", I don't believe there is any real way to fall in love other than the way you already have. Is it really possible to love like you have never been hurt? Because to be honest, right now I am hurting like I have never been loved.

The early twilight of the iguana

2008-03-03T21:19:00.002+11:00

One night I was almost seventeen. I sat down in a brown velvet armchair to read Pablo Neruda because I’d just discovered I was too chicken to drink my first can of Guinness. The house was very quiet and very empty. The black beer had been sitting in the corner of my oma’s pantry, surprisingly. I casually moved it to the refrigerator door on the first morning while I was unpacking my groceries. I’d been eying it for three days. The whole idea was risky. Who knew what would happen if I popped it open and downed the whole thing, like I wanted to? Guinness was muddy and delicious and Sophisticated-Proletarian, but in the last six months alone I had become friends with a university dropout who busked as a card magician for a living and was in a band, started dating a boy, acquired a pocket knife that flipped open like a switch blade, stopped taking violin lessons, stopped going to church every Sunday, and started studying harder than I ever had in my life. Within a month my first published poem was going to be coming out in an alternative feminist literary journal. Some other night it would seem perfectly normal and innocent, but there are nights when deciding to drink your first alcohol alone is a destructive idea. There are nights when you are almost seventeen and using up experiences much too frivolously.

Out Of The Light Appeared The Darkness

2008-02-29T22:02:00.004+11:00

The following is a piece of fiction and was not intended for any particular person.

“Child’s Play”

He whispered her name twice softy, waiting for a response
“Gabrielle, Gabrielle my love are you awake?” No reply.
He complicated his decision to get out of bed for breakfast, when he realised his hand was still around Gabrielle. He waited another several minutes before finally making the assumption she would wake up.

After a few minutes of birds singing in tune with one another, Gabrielle finally rose from the bed, gave Jacques a peck on the cheek, then proceeded to enquire about his concerning and distressing facial expression.
“I hope you weren’t waiting long, last night was fantastic we should do it again sometime although this time without the formalities…You looked stressed, what’s wrong?”
Her curiosity started running her mouth.
“I mean, what happened last night? We enjoyed ourselves, had a few glasses of their finest wine…I don’t underst-…oh, was it that tall man in the pinstripe suit? Don’t worry about him honey, he was a jerk”
Jacques anticipation over-powered his conscious.
“No, No, No! We’ll talked about it later I’m hungry for breakfast, Matthews is making pancakes with salad and yes, it was that man that annoyed me but I’m not going to let it affect me”

At the breakfast table Matthews prepared the meals and promptly left the room to continue his house cleaning duties.
“Is it nice dear?”
“Yes, isn’t it always?” replied Gabrielle.
After a mouthful of salad Jacques explained the current status of his employment.
“You know that merger that my boss wanted me to push? I said to him I need more time for family, you can’t keep me locked in my office like a lab-rat. So he agreed and now I have a month off. Isn’t that great?”
Gabrielle looked directly into his eyes and simply opened her mouth gently. “Yes”
Jacques finished his breakfast and took the plates from the table and then started washing them. “I guess this means I’ll have more time for the kids”

Midway through the evening Jacques went upstairs to the children’s bedroom.
“Edward, make sure you clean up after you play with your toys. You don’t want them to get dirty because you can’t play with them later.”
Edward began protesting.
“But dad, Violet said she would play with me and she didn’t. I wanted her to play with me, it’s not fair and I always play with her when she wants me too.” He said almost in a whisper. Jacques lifted Edward onto the top bunk-bed. Violet by this time was asleep on the bottom bunk.
“Edward my boy, that’s life, sometimes you don’t get what you want…Maybe Violet and you could go to the park and play there together?”

Edward pulled up the doona and rested his head on the pillow. “No”
“What do you mean no?” Jacques was surprised now; he had never seen Edward act like this before.
“I don’t want too”
“She’s your sister and you only have one”
“No… I like it here better, it’s safer… None of that dirty stuff you find in the park” Edward spoke with triumph.
“Ok but what will happen when your sister wants you to join in her games?”
Jacques was now trying to pierce his argument.
“I’ll think about it, and then say ‘maybe’ if she plays a game I like then I’ll join her”
Jacques conceded.
“We’ll talk about it more in the morning; you have a big day tomorrow, your back at school”

Jacques headed out of the bedroom, paused at the doorway looked back at Edward and thought. *You know, when you’re a bit older you’ll learn to love your sister very much* He paced himself down and up the stairs to collect his paperwork and brought it to his office next door to the children’s room, he wasn’t getting any younger.

He logged on to his computer and brought up the search engine. He typed in ‘puberty.’ To his amazement, he sat quietly flicking and scanning over pages of FAQ’s over this topic. Jacques always enjoyed the quiet time he got, ever since he got his new job at the firm he rarely had time for his wife, kids and more importantly himself. After an hour or so, he logged off and crawled into bed beside Gabrielle . He whispered to Gabrielle;
“The kids… the kids grow up so quickly…it wont be long before the kids have kids of there own and we’ll be much older”
Gabrielle agreed. “And forgotten…”

To the girl I never knew.

2008-02-28T09:52:00.001+11:00

I was sitting on a bus. My old school bus, but nothing changes. The same driver, the engine makes the same the sound, the same roads are taken and even some of the same people are taking their usual spots. I don't usually imagine another driver, different seating arrangements, alternate sounds or different paths. I took all these things for granted. To go further, I relied on my hearing to hear the engine, my eyes to see the passengers and my touch to feel the vibrations of the locomotive. All of those things I took for granted. The fact that I was breathing on that bus, sharing the air with those people and experiencing the same thing, I took it for granted. It seemed like something that's there forever. It was a simple bus ride.

What if it crashed? What if someone died? What if something really insignificant changed? Like the sound of the engine…would I notice or even miss the old sound? Would the experience be any different? One small thing can literally change our world.

So I was on the bus and my friends regurgitated some news for me. It was about a guy I was fond of. I knew him, a lot of people did. He was in a band and I had seen him at so many places and I could only pluck up the courage to speak to him once in my life. I didn't know him well, I always wanted to though, he had the trait of a mysterious figure that made me long to know more about him crossed with the look of typical teenage apathy that gave me the impression that he was just like everyone else in the room; even me. But he still sparked an interest deep down no matter what I've heard about him.

Before I dive into the deep end with this story, remember that this is gratifying information and a lot of it could be twisted, nevertheless, I'm sure that the conclusion is so surreal that you have to question if these events can actually happen to you.

He had a girlfriend, from what I heard they were happy. They were the teenage couple who were going to be together forever. And there is nothing wrong with that. There is a feeling about a teenage love that makes you feel like you have found exactly what you were looking for at that moment in time. It's grace. It's as if it is too good for you to have but you are lucky enough to have it. Maybe it was for putting up with everything at home, the fights at school and the fact that no one understood you. Solace and sanctuary could be found in a soul. And for him that soul was awaiting his arrival miles away.

He traveled, quite literally, from the bottom of the country to the top waiting so long to see her. He assumed everything, he imagined everything they would and could get away with. They were both waiting for this moment. A meeting between two vacant souls to stifle each other so they could never feel alone and unknown again.

He got off the plane trying to collect his excitement and put them into the words he rehearsed days before. He was ready, until a phone rang. Phone calls, like bus rides are something we just assume have little to no importance in our lives whatsoever. But phones, like bus rides can change our lives in a matter of seconds. News was delivered to him that the soul he had traveled so far to see had lost its light.

A car accident. An unfortunate car accident. Another statistic. A lover. A death. To me the worst thing about death is what it can do to the living. It was never about where I was going but what I was leaving behind. And to this day I want to take it with me, I want to take it all with me.

He was cold. He was alone. He was unknown. He felt as if he fell short of something that everybody else around seemed to have, yet too senseless to know what it was. He was breathing just because he was alive. But he didn't feel like living. Not today. It's like a limb torn from his body. A whole limb. How can you function without a limb…did you even want to function? He was still here, but where was she? What was she thinking about right now?

(This is a true story, I had written this blog a long time ago and I have asked for permission to post it. So thank you to those people for taking the time to read it and allowing me to post it.)

When The Balloon Can No Longer Take Any More Air.

2008-02-24T01:01:00.002+11:00

Ever wondered why we get sick and tired of each other's nonsense?

It came to my recent attention that necessary fixation to hold and analyse onto what people say now becomes a time-consuming exercise. Apart from the occasional lament day-dream moment, people would be foolish not to believe a day goes passed without pondering a person comments and what they meant by it.

A typical mindset might be to shrug away those off-the-cut remarks. But what happens when it all gets too much? When the person you love, your friend, your family member just pushes you until you explode and then, in an instant, you become the troublemaker. The person accused of dealing out punishment and unjustified speech about a person who, in the first instance, struck the balloon in our minds that pops after unequivocally destroying the void of peace.

How would you move on? Blow-up another balloon and start over with the person? Or condemn them until satisfied they have redeemed worthy respect?

Once Again,

The Mind Wobbles...

A good life lasts for a generation,
A good name lasts forever...

- Japanese Proverb

Don't Let Go

2008-02-19T18:50:00.000+11:00

No one can have their cake and eat it, too. We are not just having our cake, my love. We are sitting here in the candle light, hiding here in the dark, digging our arms up to our elbows in lucious chocolate syrup and smearing jam and cream over our faces.
One day, one fine day, my delicous friend, someone is going to notice the crumbs on your chin. Someone is going to comment on the wildberry sauce on your sleeve.
The difference we can make now is to chose, and to chose now to stop. Or if not stop, then limit our appetite to the occasional brandy snap. Or if not stop then...

Does the word 'marriage' frighten you?

This is not a wise choice, but an essential one. Because those living on dry bread and tepid water will protest, loudly, if they found out what we are supping on in here in the dark.

Go now, my deluctable love, licking your fingers and wiping your mouth on the back of your wrist, and do not return unless you plan to give me that shiny band of gold that would make our feasting so much less abhorrent to our associates.

When the world crumbles like a cookie

2008-02-18T19:08:00.000+11:00

A monstrous wall of ice in the arctic circle.
Etched with the years of the tides and the world's history.
Similar enough to that of a persons life.
Although short lived, knowledge comes flooding in with every event in your life.
If you have a bad accident, you are careful next time you're in a similar situation, so as not to get hurt.
If you get lost on your way to a party, you learn your way next time you travel to the same location.
The ice shelf in the arctic has no choice to how it collapses like a paraplegic in therapy.
Crashing into the freezing pure water below it. Erupting waves and destroying life as we know it slowly.
We have choices as to how our life comes crashing down. Crumbles to pieces like a dry cookie in your clenched fist. The same fist that curls whenever you think of your anger. Your nails digging into your palm, ripping up the skin like it's a block of cheese.
Unfortunately, the mistakes that we make can be catastrophic. Some part of our life might seem blissful. The happiest era you've had in your personal cocoon. And other parts seem to diminish or alter drastically. Just like the world we live in.
Who's to say that everyone is happy? Who's to say that no one has any problems? Who's to say that one heart shouldn't hurt, one mind shouldn't sting and two eyes shouldn't bleed tears onto the shirt of someone who gives a damn?
Answer my riddle, and feel free to have my trust back. Rebuild my wall of ice and preserve the entity of friendship within my arctic circle.

“Failure - When your best just isn't good enough.” -Larry Kersten

2008-02-11T23:29:00.001+11:00

i have never felt so petty to somebody in my life. i stood before someone so high above me that i felt like i actually might be better off below the ground. there is less heart strain involved in giving up right there at that moment. am i that frivolous?

i walked into this mans office and he had an entire wall dedicated to his books on life and anything relevant to life. what shocked me more is that he possessed the bragging right to some of these books (a whole shelf) because they belonged to him. he was the author.

with him was this opulent-looking lady who wore that critical, yet artistic frown that anyone proud and narcissistic would have. she too, was an author. now probably everyone of you on here know that what i want more than anything in my life is to see a book with my name on it on a shelf at a bookstore at some point in my life.

theres a lot of words to describe how i felt in that office. like 'naive', in the ways i thought i could be seen at eye-level with the caustic man before me, or unworldly, the inexperience of living a life, but the one that stood out for me most was 'stupid'. I felt so stupid to allow myself to believe i could get to something so easily.

but it made me wonder. did that man or even the woman begin as me and with my thoughts? we're they born genius? was i born anything less than that? i just want to share to people what i have to say, and by meeting these people it felt like all my questions to my life were trivial. that maybe i should just stand down and realize im not as great or capable as i originally thought i was.

walking out there, i felt a defined numbness and an apathy towards my future ambitions. what i dont understand is how can someones presence pirece through all of my dreams so easily? a persona that can make others feel far more inferior and unimportant. he was a prideful, egocentric man and i was just a boy who wished there was something he could give to the world.

this realization has a lot to do with growing up. nothing is easy. but can something truly be too hard, too far or too unrealistic? is this what separates the logical from the dreamers?

post-modern kids

2008-01-25T10:00:00.000+11:00

I'll build
an origami aeroplane
from these words:

safety and sour sugar

and I'll build
a pilot
from this word:

fly

I'll build
the crumple-crash

crash!
crumple!

until one day
accidentally
I build death
with this word:

die

I wrote this poem several months ago, but I've been thinking about post-modernism a lot lately, and about how the post-modern worldview has affected the "youth of today". I've come to a few partial-conclusions.

I have to admit that I am guilty of approaching thought-systems on an emotional level as well as an intellectual one, and post-modernism makes me want to cry. I'm depressed with the lack of ambition and enthusiasm I see in the under-30s around me. They seem to have no desire to learn, or to discover, or to revelate or to philosophize. But their condition doesn't surprise me, because I notice it in myself almost every day.

It seems to us that all the important books have been written, all the profound statements made, all the great discoveries published. It seems to us that everything there was to know about human nature was explored in the classics, and then refuted in modern psychology, and now we know everything there is to know about our emotions and motivations, and it turns out that they are nothing by chemical reactions and explainable synapses. It seems we might as well do what we want. It certainly doesn't seem worthwhile to attempt to say anything new about the human condition. And since what comes closest to modern truth is so discouraging, why should we want to learn about what has already been said anyway?

The same thing happens when we examine science and philosophy. The more we realize that the sum of human discovery seems to have led to the conclusion that reality and truth are fabrications of language, and that humans are not of any real significance compared to the random, huge, and impersonal schemata of the cosmos, the less we want to know, and the less we feel we have anything to say.

The result is a disinterest and a dislike for learning, and a general hopelessness with certainly must affect aspects of our lives other than the intellectual one. For me, it has driven to an apathy and agnosticism that frightens me. Has anyone else experienced this?

On a tangent, I like to call myself a writer, and sometimes I realize that I believe more in the words than in what they say.

Like You Mean It ...

2008-01-16T21:39:00.000+11:00

Ignore ignorance ...
Bliss for a while
End a convo with a smile and a cherio

Wonder about things out of the norm
"I wont give up, I'll never give up"
Understand the meaning ...

Say it like you mean it.

I will ignore ignorance
I will wake up tomorrow feeling blissful
I will end every conversation with a smile and a cherio

I will wonder about things that dont happen often or not at all
I will say that i wont give up and that i'll never give up just so you know
i understand the meaning.

I understand it when you say i can change
I understand the consequences of being plain

At my own peril i will change for me and not for you.

Do you find that a person will say something and mean something else? Do you find people will only say things that they feel will make you feel better but not actually mean it.

Where are the people who care in the world, just a little bit. Who would simply go out of there way to say something they mean. "i love you" I truly believe the 3 words are passed there useby date after the 1st year. Its just a feeling. Do you understand? Say your answer 'Like You Mean It...'

The Two Essential Truths About Hippies

2008-01-14T18:23:00.000+11:00

"The first can be described as chronic passivity in relation to the stream of life. Part of what it involves is dependence, a willingness to let chance or the conduct of others determine one's fate, a blind confidence that some provision will be made for one's survival and welfare.”
“The second, irresponsibility, freedom from obligations”
- Hans Toch, Professor of Sociology

I quite enjoyed reading this earlier in the week. The first impression I got was to wonder what ‘that feeling’ must of felt like during the ’60s when war was occurring but people still flocked annually, during summer to San Francisco to take recreational drugs and party.

I sometimes took it upon myself to imagine living in a world like that currently. No wars, no violence, just absolute freedom. But of course we would still have to deal with world issues like racism, hunger in Africa and the homeless.

It’s disappointing to understand that there are so many people around the world with money and power to change and develop the place for the better but don’t, only to strengthen their own personal gains/ends.

If someone came up and asked me, “Would you consider living with a hippie?”
I wouldn’t hesitate to say yes and agree.
Naturally I would expect that home to hold morals such as unity and peace.

Indeed hippies did manufacture and begin a cultural revolution, but they were still simple people with common ground to reach.

That’s my belief, for a higher society to work we need peace.

As I stood at the edge of nothing, I saw everything.

2008-01-14T01:22:00.000+11:00

stand on the edge of a building and see how small you really are and appreciate it.

people are so focused on being rich, being famous, being everything they think they need to be. they always look for the the thing that makes them imperfect. but imperfection is part of beauty. its part of life. for some reason we thrive to find the things to make it better.

what do you already have? why arnt you happy? what happened to the little things in life that make the bigger things seem so trivial. like that dollar that goes to the homeless guy, the butterfly thats stuck in the spiderweb or those smiles that you give to each other that mean nothing outside of being happy with where you are and who you're with.

why does everything have to lead to something? why must we run straight to a climax? what happened to being content and staying in one moment. freezing clocks, not caring about how far you are, how you're going to get back or even if you were planning to go back in the first place?

2007

2008-01-10T08:33:00.000+11:00

nothing profound here, i'd just like to know what you guys read over 2007, which books you enjoyed the most, which you thought were well-written, which changed the way you think, which the rest of us might enjoy... come to think of it, don't limit yourself to books. movies and albums of 2007 would be interesting to hear about as well. and what are you planning to read/watch/listen to in 2008?

My Heart At My Sleeve: To Write Love On Her Arms

2008-01-03T21:04:00.000+11:00

There are times when I am burning to writing something, just the pure urge to pound my fingers to the keys until I realize I have nothing really to say. It's as if whenever I lack inspiration there is a calling card that sends it right back to me.

There is a tendency in me that adores everything about the internet and loves to bound me to a computer chair and divulge into a whole world of people I may never communicate with otherwise. Through the mind swept sensation of the internet, I have learned probably more than I have in school. I've joined clubs, kept myself entertained, made incredible friends, and believe it or not, I use it as an online journal. The internet has been criticized enough to leave a lovely scarring and lasting impression on the people that are not too tech-savvy to not appreciate it at all.

What if I said that the internet has saved lives? I'm confident that a lot of the people that read this briefly know about To Write Love On Her Arms. If those who don't, I'll keep it short and sweet for you: To Write Love On Her Arms is a non-profit organization and its aim is to spread hope through the world and to reach out to the sufferers of self-inflicting wounds, depression, addictions and obsessions. It began as a story about a girl who committed herself to escaping the emotional pains of her life through physical pains. Sadly, her story is a common one and even I can say that I relate to it.

This organization is best known for its clothing. As I type this I am wearing a gray t shirt that has printed on the right "To Write Love On Her Arms...rescue is possible". It's not everyday your heart is at your sleeve and most t shirts today only have lewd and indecent remarks anyway, but this top is what I am all about.

Rescue is possible. Love is the movement. Stop the bleeding. Three of their 'mantras', if you'd like to call them that. I want to be there for anyone in need. And the needed need to know that people will be there for them. I know how being alone feels and I know that I was not alone at being alone. Let TWLOHA be the first step to recovery. It was my recovery...not only to me but as many as a hundred more sufferers. Most of all, it played the role of a reminder that people did face the feelings I felt, that they did resort to the things I did, that they did overcome the traps they fell into. The legendary Beatles sing "love is all you need" and it's true. Knowing people are willing to walk with you through whatever it is you are facing is such an incredible feeling and I promise you, rescue is possible.

For anyone that wants more information about To Write Love On Her Arms visit their myspace right here: http://www.myspace.com/towriteloveonherarms

As I Lay Waiting...

2007-12-30T23:24:00.000+11:00

Call im sick
Call im angry
Call im desperate for your voice
As I Lay Waiting....

Call im crying
Call im sad
Call im sick of waiting for you
As I Lay Waiting...

Call im smiling
Call im happy
Call im in love with you
As I Lay waiting...

Call im cutting
Call im hurt
Call im fed up with rejection
As I Lay Waiting....

Call im Bleeding
Call im broken
Call im dying ... dying ... dead
As I Layed Waiting....

Waiting for you to call, because your the only thing that kept me alive.
Waited for you to call, because i thought that you cared about keeping me alive.

fess

2007-12-24T17:22:00.000+11:00

to my dear
calculator boy:
you do realize
that you and i
do not add up?
[i like you anyway.]

tim took me out for tea yesterday. we spent three hours coming to the conclusion that nothing means anything. that the history of philosophy is the build-up to the big reveal... and there is nothing under the velvet cloth. physics and math and wittengstein proved that. i said, 'if i ever kill myself, you will know why. it will be because of physics and language philosophy.' he said, 'i wouldn't do that. i would prefer that you didn't.' i didn't say it, but if he was being consistent with his belief system, he wouldn't care.

we do not add up. i like him anyway. he likes me. we cannot be proved correct and necessary with math or logic. it makes me uncomfortable. i want to point this out to him, to tell him that our official worldviews allow very little room for the sort of relationship we have, but i don't know what to say.

Graffiti

2007-12-22T03:00:00.000+11:00

I know the majority of these posts have to do with life and living and death and dealing with such things, however I'm going to be quite shallow in this entry.

I spoke to a man on a tram 2 nights ago. He was high or drunk, maybe both and anybody could find him intimidating. As obnoxious as he was, we did share a lot of similar interests. For example, music. Which sparked a ice-breaking conversation, from there we drifted to graffiti.

A lot of people adhere graffiti, but I like to see it as an art. The man on the tram described it as "imagine you sit on the tram...and every wall is white. It's the same. It's boring. We put color!" He was right. I mean, yes it is illegal and I dont condone illegal acts, but the truth of it all is that the tram would be a lot more bland.

Another way I saw this was in toilets while going to clubs. The messages, the song lyrics, stickers, drawings. When it is covered across the wall it is pure art. It is from 100 hearts thrown onto a single wall. And I love to take the time to just sit and stare at it all. In alleyways there is art made anonymously and paintings in modern art museums could not even think to compare.

Graffiti is an art and I stand by that. It is something to admired. I respect the people who endanger themselves to create their masterpieces. But every artist faced sacrifice somewhere in their lives. For graffiti artists, it would be their freedom. For Van Gogh, it would be his ear. For Da Vinci, it would be his safety. And the list goes on.

Its Bullshit...

2007-12-19T00:19:00.000+11:00

You want something so bad and you cant have it
Its Bullshit

To have your feelings torn apart like there nothing
Its Bullshit

To have no self confidence as you sit at the computer wondering why
Its Bullshit

To young to understand love even when you experience it
Its Bullshit

Pushed away, disrespected, treated like the air we breath - used
Its simply Bullshit

Its Bullshit to know people are treated this way, feel this way, like me and feel torn apart emotionally. To many people never realise what they say is really hurting someone. People are driven so far down by people who take peoples feelings and stomp on them that they committ suicide, yet when its all done they didnt even know. I wont lie, i have said some pretty nasty things to people i dislike in my life, but i have come to realise that words hurt more then people think. I have deep regret for the people i have hurt.

We, ourselves are to blame.

Guilt

2007-12-19T00:00:00.000+11:00

Their bodies combine to make one in a sweet embrace,
and then a movement into a long passionate kiss.
She's up against the wall, push into it as the moment heats up.
He stands close to her, their warmth merges and her heart pounds against her ribs.
Hands explore each other slightly, and an excitement bursts inside them both as they start to move.
The moment is full of lust and desire, as the two seem to be the only people around,
even though they are in an empty room, and no one else would find them.
The excitement slows, and they hold one another, the girl's head on his chest.
What could wreck this moment? An experience the girl had been yearning for for some time.
The rest of the world seemed to reappear as running and crashes can be heard, and friends burst in.
The girl becomes flustered, and she no longer wants to hold the boy, but to escape.
He refuses to let go of her, gently holding her warmly, arms around her stomach.
She stands, still as stone, afraid that something so intimate could have been seen by others.
The two let go, as the friends laugh, and the girl is gone.
Left to think of what she should have done.
Left to feel guilt, even though she was free.
An act that should be made when people trust one another. When people know each other.
Worry floods her mind, without her needing to care.
Morals sink in, and the girl realises, she wished it were someone else, who she can't have.

Obssesive Parents.

2007-12-16T20:07:00.001+11:00

I'm sitting in the stands of my sons very last football game. Made him just the boy I had always wanted. Just because he was littler than the rest of the guys doesn?t mean he can't be as good. Had him in the gym 24/7. I hope he surprises me, scores the winning touchdown. Then I would love him so much. Oh, and we never spoke of how he wanted join the local dance studio. I just said it would be our secret. I wouldn?t tell a soul. Ohh wow, their helmets rip the paper banners the cheerleaders made. I can?t see my boy he must be pushed in with all the guys. Into the first quarter I really got into it screamin? ?kill em?, kill em?.? I don?t know there?s just something about the sound bones make that makes me laugh. I wanted to slaughter the other team. When half time rolled around I was sweating along with the players.
Number 47 came up to me with a smirk on his face. He wasn?t my sons friend but then again I didn?t really know any of them, he told me I might want to check the locker room. That he had ?hung? out instead of helping out the team. And he was right, he was right there in the locker room.. hanging.

I didn't actually write this. But i read it and have so many friends who's parents push like this.

Backward Shyness

2007-12-15T11:00:00.000+11:00

WHY!
Now that I have that out of the way - let me explain my brainwaves for today.

I once again have had a lot of time on my hands and it has gotten my thinking about my behaviour, and behaviour in general. I seem to be backwardly shy - I have no trouble talking to people for the first time if I'm at school, or shopping centre, a party.. (I have many many people who can attest to that). I can stand there talking for hours. When my shyness comes in is once the person is actually interested in me - just generally speaking. I shut up shop, no talk, just listen, (that mostly happens in a group situation), or withdraw into my own head. I am so scared of what other people will think of me, what they'll say, that I can't say anything. I just kind of stand back and let people talk amongst themselves, not part of any real conversation.
It's like I am not comfortable around anyone I know, or who knows me. It takes so much effort for me to even say a hello to these people.
And what surprises me the most is the particular groups this happens with. I am used to not knowing what to say to people I want to like me, I want a friendship with, etc.
The people I find I am least comfortable with are people of my own faith, (For those who don't know, I'm a Jehovah's Witness). I can just feel myself being judged every time I go to an assembly, or witnessing. I can't say how I feel because it's looked upon as wrong.. if I say something about the actual religion aspect, that I am having issues with, I get shut down, it's like immediately wrong.
I am finding this incredibly hard to handle, especially since there are many outside my faith that welcome my views and ideas freely without judging me. (I appreciate you guys...!!!)
It makes me wonder whether I should even be there, with that crowd... but then I think the only thing that bugs me is the people... its the beliefs, values, that are supposed to be important right? Not who's there with you? It's just so difficult to keep going when you feel you don't fit. That's probably my fault, right? The lack of speech doesn't help. The way we live is HARD.. that's an understatement. But I can't imagine where I'd be without it. My life would have zero purpose.
I'm beginning to think life minus it would be better... or as a friend of mine said "...I think there's two paths you can take, that's follow the book..which is probably the safest thing to do...or get your own revelation of god and live life that way" I like that take, because religion, beliefs, have to be something YOU are happy with, satisfied with. I have the ideal of never stopping asking questions till I am satisfied with the answer.
Maybe I should ask a few more.

in science and in medicine, i was a stranger, you took me in

2007-12-13T16:16:00.000+11:00

the songs are in your eyes
i see them when you smile
i've had enough of romantic love
i'd give it up
yeah i'd give it up
for a miracle drug

would i? would you? i've had more than enough of romantic love, but would i give it up? is there romantic love out there that is worth it? lately i think we should all just forget it and try to save the world instead.

In like and love, and the teenagers in-between

2007-12-13T01:19:00.000+11:00

"Lover"

You always think you can see
my heart behind my skin,
and you can touch it with your words
but i dont know where theyve been.

These things sound so rehearsed
and theyre ending just the same,
the vow of suffering together
or to drift and break away.

You tried to make me whole
but it was too much for a need,
to want you as my own,
to fulfill the act of greed.

It's true we're happier apart
than suffocating each other,
but our moods will always change
just like this Melbourne weather.

I wrote this about an hour ago and it is supposed to illustrate the scenario a friend of mine is trapped in. It's about teenage love. Personally, I never intended to find love in my teenage years, I'd feel like a lot of my years to experience love, sex and all its glory had been crammed into a semester at high school and I tried to avoid this feeling at all costs. But sometimes love can just find you out. If it's not a person that can sway your thoughts and dreams from a single gesture or word, then its the longing for a touch, a gesture or word from anybody. It's human to want affection and teenageism stresses these points with the wonderful touches of hormones and estrogen. We are old enough to crush and be crushed but too young to understand why it hurt so much.

Love is a hard topic to talk about, teenage love is just as hard. It is something we want, but everyone could postpone, yet postponing only leads to anxiety and before you can stop yourself from inventing the lust within your mind a moment passes with that person. And then you want another one. Love goes both ways. For me, I felt secure, wanted and never alone. Then I gave that in return. Which can mean that love is a continuous cycle of giving and gracefully accepting what you gave in return. That is the utmost basic mechanics of loving somebody. No matter how much I can talk about love, it will only be scratching the surface of what true love is. The only reason I can't write about true love yet is because, well, I don't think I've felt it.

The Fire In The Sea

2007-12-01T15:14:00.000+11:00

Technology…
It seems as though now-a-days that too many [insert social group or class of society] are becoming (too) dependant on technology. Sure enough without advances in technology we couldn’t have bigger houses and Internet (the very thing I’m writing on.)

On the other hand I don’t think we needed/wanted bigger wars. The drive to have that one special feature; bigger, smaller, faster, smarter, and stronger. This drive leads people to believe the outcome will be greater then the effort of input.

Especially the petty lengths people go to survive. The last time I checked, robbing a petrol station with a gun to get $500 fast easy cash did more harm than good.
Getaway car $15000
9mm calibre $200
Your life rotting away in jail, priceless (And while your in jail you can use the magic vision of hindsight to say “How fair is life?”)

The fantasy of owning a flying car would be nice. Although like many people I too have a lot of fantasies of unwarranted desires. No tax, no divorcés, no; “I’m sorry we can’t be friends because we let $25 get between us”.

The fact of the matter is;
Why do we need all of this technology?
To show off the latest gadgets that we can’t even work ourselves?
To keep up with the non- existent law which demands of remaining “cool” and “new”

The technology to be yourself?
I think I might buy that...

Depth

2007-11-30T22:33:00.000+11:00

With guilt he looked upon the mirror …searching
Looking back at him was not his true self

You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now
Here he comes
He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined
When you were young

An identical stranger had been created

The real truth was exposed…

rockstars

2007-11-29T13:46:00.000+11:00

i spend a lot of time pretending to be a rockstar these days. maybe you would too, if you lived in a modest but slightly chipped up city bungalow with your parents and five brothers and sisters - all five younger than you - and they were all determined to grow into respectable and nondescript [but nice] sorts of people. if you were a tall, big-boned blonde tomboy with the soul of a girl who sometimes looks like meg white and sometimes looks like sweet little ghetto pixie, but who always looks a hundred times more mod than yourself.

but back to the rockstars.

i've been thinking that even people in bands must pretend to be People in Bands, and sometimes they must get so good with their act that we can't tell the difference. that happened to the beatles. the beatles dripped cool. they were so cool they were more human than the rest of us poor wretches and that's why we loved them. because they were rockstars. [because they were cool.] it's all about being cool these days, now that we've seen what those wonderful delinquents can do.

so usually my daydream phases in when i'm stuck at home babysitting and smack in the middle of some spiritual crisis. somehow People in Bands can get away with looking for baby jesus and somehow i can't. i didn't pray more than possibly three words today, but i pretended to be bono instead. i preserved a few shreds of integrity by pretending. boom! paradoxical magic.

i spent an hour watching post-punk gigs from 1981 on youtube today and started to cry. those fresh-faced boys on stage were so cool that they could act real. the kids in the mosh pits looked positively alive. even the grainy videos screamed energy and desperation and exhileration. god seems much more likely to want to listen to them. sometimes i think god lives at shows, where are the cool people are begging to find him.

but all of this pretending gets frustrating.

The Cult In Culture*

2007-11-25T11:30:00.000+11:00

I love meeting new people from diversities that I never imagined I could divulge. I don't condone separate groups or labels, or anything that can can potentially alienate/ discriminate against someone. I'm not for that at all. Acceptance is very important in an evolving society. I was talking to a lady who had interests only for women. The lesbian culture has a stereotypical touch to it. Which is sad. But as I was talking to her I understood that it's hard enough to be who are and also fit in with the crowd you are forced to reside with. Believe it or not, even homosexuals have the underlying code and each person must somehow fit into this scheme or else they are excluded. A 'straight' world can be unforgiving, though as times are changing, thankfully, as are the peoples opinions. Though this is a slow transition, it is apparent. That is merely one crowd to please, the other is the gay community. I was told that by wearing a dress to a gay club she was perceived immediately as a heterosexual. When I think gay community, I think exactly how the media represents them. Fiercely sexually driven, revealing fashion, obnoxious and the writhing for a one-night-stand or at the most a minimal commitment "high school" relationship. I can't say that there are no gays like that, but I can safely say there are NOT. I can't even say the majority are like this. For example, is every Iranian a terrorist? That's complete idiocy. Maybe the way a few people have acted has reflected poorly on their upbringing and culture and that in itself is a sad thing to accept. Some merely want to survive and never wished to imagine their lives confined in an eternal war. It's hard enough to be who are, let alone be accepted.

*There is a previous post with the same title but it manages to fit perfectly here again, so I've used it twice.

2007-11-20T16:34:00.000+11:00

i don't have time for a nicely-structured, well-researched post tonight. i am upset.

the more i look around me, the more i realize that i know nothing. i don't even know how to look, or what to look for. as obsessed with photography as i am, i do not have even a basic understanding of how a camera captures images. math in school is becoming more of a struggle and a worry every day, since i've decided that i not only want to memorize the formulas, terms, and procedures, but do my best to comprehend them as well. i am not content to create without knowing how, and i am not content to express my ideas to others, since i know that my worldview is full of holes. i am finished with the idea that "logical" science and "human" art must remain separate. they both deal with ultimate truth, and "the way things really are" don't they? euclid's theorems can be called beautiful can't they? but so can a norman rockwell painting. i want to know how and if the two [science and art] can be reconciled. i want to know the value and proper function of human emotions. i want to know if i can honestly say that God fits in with my own idea of reality.

but my information is woefully incomplete. i am going half-crazy trying to learn, and to synthesize my new knowledge into true opinions. in some ways it astonishes me to see everyone around me blissfully oblivious to the staggering questions surrounding them, but, on the other hand, they are blissful and i am desperate.

Beginnings

2007-11-19T11:53:00.000+11:00

"The first message was a confession.
The second was a separation.
The third is a proposal.

I'm sorry for all these messages. my aunt who calls herself a 'white witch' believes that superstition is real. She said that anything that happens in life, will always happen 3 times and then a curse is broken. I plan for this to be my third and last message to you."

After all the things I've gone through it's almost comical, even trivial to realize that it was just the beginning of things. Just when I thought something ends perpetually in my life, it marks the beginning of the very same thing. Call it a prelude. Call it the introduction to how things will now be.

Above is the introduction to a letter that I wrote to someone. It is a letter about love, but it is definitely not a love letter. It was the third of its kind. And honestly, I thought it ended there. Being the introspect that I am, I tend to reflect on myself a lot. I failed to notice that things were actually happening outside of me. I failed to notice that it was the start of the relationship.

Everything has an ending but I don't see the enjoyment in skipping the chapters to find that out. So its safe to assume that this chapter in my life has a prologue. The new character is introduced and now the transformation between two people will finally begin.

I've noticed that a lot of posts here have been inclusive, they were made to include everyone. So I guess I've broken the routine with this lovely egocentric post.

Words

2007-11-12T18:29:00.000+11:00

Did you ever hear the story or even, legend of the man who killed a community with just his words? I'll briefly share the tale for you. A man entered a church one day and over time convinced the entire community that he was an alien sent to Earth to save that community from the Earths destruction. With mere words he persuaded the community to die for him, and he later killed himself believing his story. It's not my place to say that he was not an alien, how would I know? But I do know this.

I remember reading the Bible one day and I've completely forgotten where the scripture is but it had written something along the lines of "there is life and death in your words", and it's true. A man somehow convinced an entire community (and perhaps himself) that he was there to save them. The result was that they all died.

So next time you converse with a friend and say lightheartedly "you're stupid", "you're gay", "you can't do it", odds are they will disregard it but before they do it will most likely be considered if only for a second. I don't care what anyone says, if one man can con a community into committing suicide then he is one great speaker. So if I used just my words and passion and expressed them to others could that give life to the community?

Life Inside A Bottle

2007-11-11T21:30:00.000+11:00

It has been a while since i have posted or even checked AYWF. I promised myself so much for this, the new me, the new feeling i had inside. I guess i am fake? or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

All my life i have always felt the urge to let everything inside me out, to just one night, day, evening let everything i am feeling about life, hope, love, family, and anything else inside ones life. I hold back and i 'bottle up' and continue living as if the bottle top is screwed on to its absolute maximum.

Ive shown signs of bursting out, whether its an emotional rage, or an act of kindness. I tell myself, who is willing to take anything and everything i have to say, some of the stuff i do not even think that friends will stay to hear. Am i frightened? scared? emotional? i feel like i should stay bottled up to protect those around me.

Every time i burst i have the feeling that its going to actually all come out, somehow im residing as the burst of anger i display is growing. Is that possible? Every post on AYWF is resembling some form of me. I am not really thinking of others, i just write. I realise that being bottled up your losing air, to breath, to live. Maybe it is suppose to be that way, that someday im going to be my own downfall, that i would die because there was something that needed to be said and i never let it out.

For every burst i unleash upon someone, i feel like i am opening up a hole inside the bottle, my life. I gasp for air on so many occasions that i feel the need to burst. How much longer can i drag this out before i run out of air? To be free? to live life to the full? I am a mind of questions yet when it comes to asking someone a question i am in a deep hole filled with nothing but white writing on white walls. There are days in which i feel like i could burst out and free myself from the suffering, but there are days where i think about it so much that it makes the bottle cap tighter.

Live life to the full ey', place that fake plastic smile upon my face and say everything is ok once again. Its just another day i say, another day in paradise *voice turns sarcastic*. Live and be free, life is just another cliche.

Carpe Diem: The New Revolution

2007-11-07T23:29:00.000+11:00

Maybe Darwinism is real. Maybe Jesus is Lord. Maybe we do get reincarnated. Maybe we enter the ‘void’ of nothingness. Maybe you don’t care where you’re from or where you’ll go. Maybe we are looking at the same thing differently. Instead of the things that separate us, like faith, spirituality, sexual preferences, gender, age, race or whatever else it might be, we are human and in that sense, we will always be the same.

Whether we have or have not evolved from monkeys and apes, we always distant ourselves from animals. It seems the only thing humans and animals have in common are out five senses and the urge to reproduce (in most cases). I’d like to think that a world without humans would be the ultimate Garden of Eden. No intelligence, arrogance or pride to destroy forests, valleys and the purest of blue skies.

Inattentively, over time humans considered their existence timeless. We made ourselves eternal at the cost of having our surroundings suit us and all other forms of life had been dubbed not extensive enough to be cared about, and so they die. We say ‘The’ world because there is only one. Civilization shows the separation of ourselves and the overall ‘want’ for something more. Be it more land, a higher status, excess money, we all crave something more. Instead of existing to follow an endless line of trends from an endless line of followers, why don’t we detract to something more personal or even more beneficial? We choose to thrive for more in all the wrong areas.

I want you to join a revolution. Just like decades ago, where wars doused the skies in black smoke, hippies slid roses into gun barrels, people protested, walls were pushed over and politicians mouths left ajar without a hint of comprehension as to what his people wanted. It’s as if when the Beatles released their last album, when Bob Dylan left the microphone stand or even when the influence and stage presence from Nirvana had ceased, once the bands went so did the crowd.

It is in my personal and best interest to inherit a care for the world and its inhabitants. Don’t take my words as an ‘action’, the action never left. Wars continue and so does the blabber of politicians, the skies are stained, the waters rising and time is escaping us all. This message is just awareness. This is me letting you know that I want to do something. Everything you know, everything you ever learning in school cannot compare to the things that you teach yourself. Where did the desire to nurture one another come from? I can’t be sure, but I’ll embrace it. It could be a human instinct placed into our minds by the hand of God or perhaps we had adopted our ways from animals and their families. Text book knowledge and worldly knowledge are two different things. Text books cannot emphasize heart strains, tragedies and triumphs. It is you. This is your life and the world is at your feet, not your shoulders. You are the difference and together we are the change.

I want you to feel empowered. I want you to pick someone up when they are down. Everybody is fighting a battle, even you, together we can overcome anything. There are two things we need in life: knowledge and experience. So learn as much you can, never stop learning. Then with your knowledge I implore you to graze your knees, get your hands dirty, push yourself to the edge and question all your answers. I want you to question exactly what you are doing, why you are doing it and most of all I want you to question yourself. Are you happy the way you are? Every time you oppose yourself from a mirror, is it you or an image of somebody you are trying to be?

Nobody should ever feel worthless, hopeless or alone. Nobody should ever feel poverty-stricken, starved or suffered. I’ve cast an oath to do everything I can possibly do to make a difference in this world, because the things I’ve seen, the utmost cruelty and hatred that flows through so many individuals veins is enough for me to stop cursing at the television screen and go to the source of these problems.

Last week I was minding my own business eating a sandwich that my mother had made and a man came up to me with a McDonalds bag offering it to me. I refused, I had food but he simply replied “if you don’t like it, throw it away.” Soon after the man vanished and I was left with a medium sized Big Mac meal. I struggled to eat the chips and drink but eventually proved victorious. However I was left with a burger. I dragged my feet to bin and stared at the lid, “what a waste” I say to myself. I walk past the bin and out onto the street, there’s a man sitting at a bench, his clothes stained with what appears to be irremovable black marks, he had a grayed beard and also seemed to adopt a barrier or force field in which no person would dare penetrate. It was the type of invisible barrier that indicated that he was a threat to our society. I decided to walk through this barrier and I offered him the burger. Of course he took it and a smile stretched across his face. We had a brief conversation and I ventured off into the library.

My actions that day were rewarding to me, but they would not have been existent if it weren’t for that man. So your first step is to simply do something nice. You never know where it may lead. I fed a homeless man and the feeling that is inherited from that action cannot be put into words. So please, if you are the hopeful, loving and caring individual you are then act.

You don’t need to save a world to be a hero, your words may give life to someone, your presence may give someone purpose, your love will be the movement in someone else’s life. You are needed in this world and you are loved.

(I'd also like to welcome Miki to the AYWF!! Make yourself at home! :D)

Other

2007-11-04T12:26:00.000+11:00

hello again. i haven't been writing as much as usual lately. i just finished up with a new issue of my zine, and i feel a little drained. but i've been experimenting with some different kinds of pretty art. i've made 2 patchwork pillows. i've been drawing and doing a lot of photographatating. today i tried sewing together a journal using scrap paper from my zine printing, and it turned out really well. i've been practing my violin, and i haven't been taking everything quite so seriously. it feels good. wholesome. comforting. i like creating things.

A heart can bare no sight (the forbidden love blog)

2007-11-03T10:25:00.001+11:00

When you look for love in forbidden places, sure, it's exciting, until you realize you just shouldn't be there. Forbidden love is forbidden for a reason. In a way, it's the best kind of love. It's an infatuation on ecstasy. But forbidden love comes at a high price. Don't forget forbidden places are the places we should never breach. Just because I thought this could be different. I was wrong. I wasn't meant to be there at all. What happened when I walked past the line and into a forbidden place? It was something that held no definition since it was forever changing. I loved it. I hated loving it. I loved hating to love it. I accepted that I loved to hate the fact that I loved it. And I kept going only realize that in the forbidden place I kept hurting myself.

The forbidden place is dark, you cant see. Love is blind. Forbidden love is also blind. Despite the cuts and bruising of a trying heart, I kept telling myself it wasn't worth it but deep down all I wanted was the affection of the other person. It wasn't that I was denied affection. It was that I knew it wouldn't last forever. They knew it wouldn't last forever. I was not ignorant. I'm never ignorant. I just refused to know. I simply rejected the idea and only hoped that I could speak a vow. That one vow that actually meant something to me "Till death do us part".

Ever seen those movies that say "love makes you do stupid things?" it's an understatement. Love is something that scars. It makes reproduction have meaning. It makes you long for more each and every time.

If only I could fall in love in the right place, with the right person. In another way, forbidden love is the worst kind of love. Because one day you will leave the forbidden place of which you invented yourself and your infatuation.

AMENDMENT:
"I go to seek a great perhaps."~Francois Rabelais
Sometimes I wonder if everything I find is mere coincedence. Like it comes at the most perfect time. When everything is at the exteme low, there will be a sudden high. This morning, reading other peoples blogs (I shamefully admit I enjoy doing that) I came across this quote. It never crossed my mind that the fact we do the things we do is to only hope for a better outcome than the one we already have. Why do I keep pushing myself in the dark of a forbidden love? Because I'm seeking a rarity of an opportunity. Perhaps...

Chapter Two: Learning

2007-10-31T10:21:00.000+11:00

By doing is how we learn, if we didn’t learn we wouldn’t do

How does one learn how to cope with loss?
How does one learn how to solve complex problems?
How does one learn…?

Learning... Happens to be one way we come to terms with reality and understand our surroundings. Learning is a vital process in our lives, for not only our personal benefits, but others around us. Learning is so vital now-a-days that we enforce our children to go learning centres, known as schools for first 15 to 18 years of their lives. Again, for the same reasons, so they too can adopt to our ever-growing fantasy of technology. Whether it be; faster this, safer that, or something that requires to be bigger to fill that void in our ‘obsession’ part of our minds.

If we didn’t learn, to learn, then what we have left to understand?

Learning processes in this big wide world of ours, enables us to interact with people with love and care about. Sometimes the learning can be on a social basis eg parties or rather a self taught skill eg driving. One special mechanism that is unnoticed to most is how to appreciate you.

Whatever the learning involved, the one thing that remains unlearnt is you

I’ve never liked how children in school, always say to their parents “Nothing” after the parent asks them what they learnt today in school. Irrespective of it not being encouraging, and the child being unaware of it, learning is something some people take for granted and throw away after being so close to finishing.

By making mistakes is how we learn
By learning is how we make mistakes

But the most important learning, I’ve learn to recognise and address is, listening. For reasons other than the intangible benefits of gaining unimportant information, listening to others is a fundamental stage in the way in which we learn. Listening happens to be learning, not only for the person actually listening but also the person speaking, how well have they taught themselves to make there words heard.

Well, I hope you have learned something, I know I have.

So, how does one learn…?

What we learn to do, we learn by doing

Journal entry and a quote by Lennon.

2007-10-29T14:44:00.001+11:00

Hey everyone, its been so long! I'm here in the State Library studying (very slowly) for my very first exam on friday. I don't really have a topic to blog right now and I'm only permitted 15 minutes on the computer. So take this as a diary entry and just know that I'm not dead, I'm still here just under a lot of stress at the moment. I understand that the AYWF is progressing very slowly but thats fine, as long as I have somewhere to write it's no skin off my nose. Seeing as it has died down, I'll permit everyone to write diary entries if they feel that they want to and I'll also accept brief blogs and you can also post mere quotes that you might find inspiring. I read a quote by John Lennon the other day that got me thinking, I can't remember it exactly so I'll paraphrase it a little: "Life is what happens while you're busy making plans." So let's not plan our futures too far or else they just might fly by us without even noticing!

OK, thats all from me, good luck to the year 12's with their exams, and to everyone else, look forward to your breaks!

Chapter One: End Of An Era

2007-10-25T13:57:00.000+10:00

When It Ends, You Think About How It Begins

I woke up this morning with a headache. Firstly, because I had to rush myself to get to school to say goodbye and to get our uniforms signed. Secondly, because I understand that I would later be overcome with emotion. That emotion was only ever used once before, my last day of primary school. Today, this day, that day, would be forever marked as the ‘End of an era.’ Just one of the many chapters in our lives that has been finally been written. Maybe, written with a happy ending for all of us.
Who knows? Only you know...

Although I was grateful that I was bombarded with people as soon as I entered the room with peers demanding something written by me, irrespective of what rubbish I wrote on their tops. I guess they felt satisfied that they got “BeZ’s” signature rather, than seeing and saying goodbye to me. This was clearly evident by one particular individual, who mentioned to me that they, “…had no time for me…” I immediately got over it seeing as how they didn’t really appreciate me from year 7. This was just a reflection, of once again, the emotion of the day.

After mentioning to everyone that there was still the dinner to come and gave out hugs like, it was the first and last time I had seen the person and they had seen me. I wondered what triggered this off. Maybe, that’s how they felt. Like they didn’t know me enough and felt guilty. Or maybe they knew me enough not to ‘give it another thought’. Did I miss something? Or was I like that from the beginning?

If I had my time over, would I do anything different?
Where do we go from here?
Another chapter in our lives has just started…

When It Begins, You Think About How It Ends

Did I ever want to change?

2007-10-16T19:13:00.000+10:00

There was a lady in a hospital surrounded by bodies filled with enthusiasm and support. The lady gave birth to her first child. A baby boy. I was that baby. It's incredible to see how much things can change from childhood to adulthood. Did I ever want to change?

New relationships formed. Old relationships broken...sometimes lost. Technology is constantly evolving. The fights. The tragedies. The triumphs. The struggles. The changes. The risks. Everything that has happened to make you who you are right this very moment. Up to reading this blog. It's fascinating. The stories we have left untold. The secrets we keep unspoken. The memories that escaped us. The memories we can't let go of... even if we wanted to. The hating. The loving. The grudges we made. The promises we couldn't keep. The words you always wanted to say but left it too late. The kisses you missed from that someone. The foods that you loved that can no longer be made for you. The expectations of you. The need for you. The want for you. Where your dreams took you. Was is far? Do you still want to go there? The hopes. Being spontaneous. Did you ever want to change?

Go somewhere. Do something you've never done. Volunteer. Just for the hell of it. Change the way you think about something. Speak to someone you've never met but always wanted to. Learn the basics of a different language. Start a journal. Be crazy. Dare to be different. Sing out loud. Run in the rain. Let love happen. Open your heart to new things. New people. Talk to someone different. Paint something odd. Draw how you feel. Write a song. Sing it. Perform it. Whisper a secret. Tell the whole world. Tell the truth next time. Say how it really felt, how it really tasted, how it smelt, how it looked, how it sounded, what you thought. Better yourself. Write a letter to someone. Email is too easy. Too shallow. Make your moments. Don't wait. Never wait. Keep going. Live your dream. Dream it everyday. Never feel hopeless. Never let someone feel hopeless. Be there. Be someone incredible. Be you. Did you ever want to change?

There's more to living than just being alive.

2007-09-28T23:54:00.000+10:00

I'm such a recluse. I complain and complain and don't tackle these problems that keep strolling along my path. I just bypass to step around it and keep on walking. I need to stop that. I just need to stop and figure out this issue that has been brought up. There is more to my life but it comes as it does, not all at once. I want the change, the passions, the dreams, the lessons to all hit me at once. But life gives you the tragedy and then the lesson, not the other way around.

I sometimes feel that I need to thrive for the inspiration to be who I want to be. I fail to notice that I know what I want but I'm just too lazy to get it. Then I hear 'it's better to try and fail, than fail to try'. It's just so true to the point that the real catastrophe of my life will be my laziness, my seclusion in my room. And I see this everyday, where people just stay content but NEVER consistent. They try and fail but become content and soon after they will lower their expectations of their next more effortless achievement.

I keep changing myself to suit these surroundings. My surroundings affect me, and change me so easily that sometimes I don't even notice. I don't want to change, I want to stay consistent. The things that I want, I actually want. Because it appeals to me personally, not to everyone else. So what if my goal does not assure money. I need to try. Try and fail or try and succeed.

It's not that I need an omnipotent force to give me insight to my future, to shade me of my insecurities. I don't need to run to God for everything. I don't need to pray every problem. I am not a drone. I refuse to be a Christian shielded by a barrier that promotes ignorance and amplifies my insecurities. This is life. I face life like everyone else. I'm not living in the Christian bubble anymore. I'm living as a human. I will make these mistakes and I'll learn from them. I'll fail and succeed. We can change the world if we wanted to. You are so naive if you think you can't.

elevator music

2007-09-25T14:36:00.000+10:00

who invented elevator music? who decided to play hollow love songs in the jungle of consumerism? who decided to rob music of its soul by relegating it to background noise? who decided to produce ridiculous songs for this very purpose?

i hate retail. i hate the way corporations and companies manipulate ideas and experiences and twist them into shapes to fit company goals. music isn't the only thing that has suffered. it's a wonder there are any humans left in the lower working class, what with employees having to put up with this fascade day after week after year.

too many good things have been exploited until their only identity is found in something related to making money. businesses use simple, sappy music and "friendly associates" to give customers the impression that their store is somehow less sullied by the "squeeze every last drop" mentality, and has retained a "personal" quality. really the business has found this to be the most effective way to increase profits. what effect does this have on first world society? we spend most of our time buying, selling, and consuming. shopping is almost a cure-all antidote for boredom.

because the pattern i discussed is repeated so often, the "human qualities" have lost their own substance, namely, the quality of being human. what do i mean by "human"? i mean a state of being that involves intellect and emotions and experiences that define humans as all that they are. the mindless emotion in most elevator music, and the heartless economic ambition of a chain retailer are not what i consider displays of "humanity", at least not at a desirable or fulfilled level.

people have traded in wonderful encounters and experiences and things for the stripped-down versions you find in the mall. more, easier, faster, cheaper - less important. even if you don't consider the fact that all of this convenience is facilitated by millions of impoverished sweat shop and slave laborers overseas, and that in the process of living this "advanced" lifestyle we waste disgusting amounts of resources; just the time and authenticity we lose is concerning.

take music. most people's favorite songs are the ones They play constantly in stores [and on Top 40 radio stations] in order to produce an almost mindless, consumerist mental condition. most of the songs don't mean anything, and the ones that do are impossible to appreciate because the only time people ever hear them is while shopping. With or Without You by U2 means a hell of a lot to me, even when i hear it at work, but that is only because i am a U2 fan in my real life, because my boyfriend is teaching it to me on the bass, and because i recognize it as a genuine piece of art. someone who didn't have the advantage of my experience with the song would not react in the same way as i do when it comes on over the store speakers, even though they might enjoy it more than say, natasha beddingford. the idea of consciously listening to music that you've decided you truly enjoy has almost been lost. and everything is like this.

why read if you can watch tv? why watch tv and become enthralled by it if you can distract yourself with homework at the same time? why talk to your boyfriend on the swings at the park if you can text him? why cook if you can buy ready to eat salad? why buy interesting clothes at tiny thrift stores if you can buy what everyone else is wearing at american eagle and throw away all your t-shirts from last year? why take time to do anything or think anything or see anything yourself if someone or something will do it for you? why explore? why create? why philosophize? and no one has a real life.

emotional experience has to be divorced from consumerism. satisfaction has to be divorced from convenience. happiness has to be divorced from things. people are becoming the puppets of their spending habits. time is more important than money. time was never money. people are important. God is important. ideals and ideas are important. a real life is important.

Secrets

2007-09-24T01:21:00.000+10:00

When someone shares something with you that is confidential, you have to show them that you're trustworthy. You will keep their confidence.
So often do i hear the words 'promise me...' and 'please make sure...'.
So many promises can carry a massive burden.
And sometimes, it's hard to control what comes out of your mouth.
'oh yeah, i remember that this happened when so and so....oh wait, never mind.'
Why do people tell you their secrets if they do not trust you?
Why impress upon someone your inner thoughts, and then beg them to tighten their lips.
Sometimes it can be difficult to keep things inside, and this can easily drive you insane.
Just like a cut on the roof of your mouth, that wont heal because you keep licking it.
Your mind will cave in, self implode, collapse, whatever you want to call it.
The burden that you carry of keeping your word is hard, but losing a friend's trust is a hard experience, and hard to gain it back again.
Beware of who you talk to, and what you swear to your heart, your death, and your eyes. just like the school yard chant.

The choices we don't make

2007-09-19T20:08:00.000+10:00

I've come to the conclusion that there is no fate, there is no destiny and there is no plan for your life. That is, your fate, destiny and plan won't be there for you if you don't want it. I think the main concern with life is the acceptance of choices we make and how hard it realize we can't re-write them.

I have my fair share of regrets and the result of the choices I've made in my life (Ichijouji if you're reading this, this applies to you). I make bad ones a lot of the time. I make the kind that boost my adrenaline (...and sometimes testosterone) for that moment in time, only to have consequences in another moment later in time.

I've noticed a lot of people have stopped making choices and let time eventually close off all options to make their lives as impermeable as possible. I can honestly say I've done this. When something is too hard or when it seems too complicated to deal with I just stay away and don't act.

There are people out there who are having constant bad days, and not just the week-long-feel-like-crap ones. The month-long ones. It happened to me. I feel like everything is just too much and I'm slowly withdrawing myself from my own life. I realized it wasn't because of the choices I made, it was because of the choices I've put off, the things I should act on that have yet to be acted upon.

The Dali Lama is a very wise man, he refuses to blame anybody but himself for everything. That is undivided selflessness. I aspire to be the same. I don't like to blame people for the way I am, instead of feeling better about myself when I bash down another person, I'd rather say 'what can I do to make myself better?'

help

2007-09-09T14:06:00.000+10:00

Jesus, why are we helpless
to ease the pain of the old
to fight the despair of the young
to refuse power
to love;
and why are you silent
when I cry
and plead for the full truth?

[this is something i wrote tonight, just because i'm feeling desperate.]

Power And Its Control

2007-09-03T19:36:00.000+10:00

Who here cant honestly say that they have been driven by power, that when they have power in their own hands they seek to use it without thinking of anything but themselves or who or what emotional/physical damage it does to one other.

Being able to control your surroundings, manipulate minds, push people to the bare edge knowing that even though they are friends you know them well enough to know that they will come running back. When you have it lying there in front of you, you stop and you think immediately about how you can use it to your advantage.

There is know hiding, everyone knows that everything is for sale and everything has a price, just a matter of the bargain you get in return. With power we forget to take into consideration the bargain we get in return as we never think about future aspects of power just the fact that we have it and the lust to use it controls our minds.

Very few people have the ability to resist what they feel is ultimate power. I have to say i am not one of them. Lately i feel i have had power in my hands and i feel the urge to want to use it to my own advantage. Seeing though i havent had the best of years ... neither the worst though i still feel i have to use power in order to get what i want.

Selfish i know, trust me im struggling to come to terms with who i really fight for in terms of the 'Good side' or the 'Bad Side' e.g. Heroes or Villains. This is causing me to go a bit out control, to go to rash distances to see who i really am and if i prefer power of anything else.

No matter how many times people are told that lust for power only ends in disaster, it still wont affect the outcome of which what people are actually going to do if they are confronted with it. You would be very suprised at how quickly people fall to curtain amounts of power and even more suprised to see when its you or a friend that is faced with it.

Lost: A Purpose

2007-09-01T16:23:00.000+10:00

Looking around at my surroundings. I see everyone.. and they are just living. Going about their lives with no real purpose to speak of, except to accomplish what they do everyday... getting through it alive. I asked a friend of mine what they saw as a purpose to life the other day, their reply being "To be happy... to live happily. You die, then nothing happens so.. live your life now."
This gave me an incredibly empty feeling.
What real point is there to our lives? Say you believe in the Big Bang bringing us into exsitence. Then we are just the result of a random explosion.. and there is no point to us being alive. We have no relevance to anything else in the universe. Everything we think we have "accomplished" as humans isn't worth ...scat! (For want of another word...). Things we fight about, things we get upset about - it's all nothing! We can be so self important as humans - yet we fail to recognize how insignificant we really are.
Why are we even here? There has to be more to it than just "being happy" and continuing the human race.
I am figuring this is why there is so many different beliefs about things in our society. So many people all trying to find their way, a higher purpose, a reason. Maybe people are so scared of being useless they need to create these things in order to feel like they are doing something worthwhile.
I myself have my own religious beliefs, as a lot of people I know do. I feel like I have something to do with my life. I feel like I have a real purpose... things don't seem so trivial. It's quite an up-lifting feeling. Believing what I said before, I found depressing even to think about. There has to be more.. doesn't there? There has to be a reason for us being around. We have the most amazing things around us... I don't mean man made things, I mean life, I mean this earth, I mean the universe. How could something as intricate as the human brain result from an explosion? If we evolved, how is it that the monkeys (apes, gorillas? I cant keep up wth the theories..) are still here? Why aren't they as advanced as we are? Why isn't any animal as andvanced as we are?
There are so many things we question as humans, but do we ever really find the solution the these kind of topics. No one agrees on Creation or Evoltuion. Everyone believes their beliefs are the right ones. How are we really supposed to find the truth? Or is there no truth? Must we just come up with something that satisfies our minds enough to bear living in a hopeless existence?
What is the point? What is the purpose?

"Now you don't know what to believe..."

games

2007-09-01T07:40:00.001+10:00

ello. my name is lizzy and i am the newest member of the amateur youth writing faction. i'm a full time student, a poet/writer, an artist, a christian, and a great lover of music and books and shows and running and swedish berries.

but i've been thinking about games lately. not hide and seek games, no. nothing as fun as that. the games we play with people we care about, especially in romantic relationships. i recently started dating one of my good friends, and although things are going pretty well, i noticed last night that there is a frightening desire for manipulation and control on my part, that is absolutely incompatible with the way i care about this boy. it stems out of insecurity and arrogance and fear and i don't know what else.

i think that everyone deals with this desire in some way, and it seems strange and almost creepy to me, since it is almost impossible to recognize or fight back, and it always results in the misery of both parties involved. it manifests itself in ridiculous petty little things, like posting a breakup song on your myspace to make the other person jealous or guilty or afraid; or refusing to return a call because you are harboring a grudge against a call of yours that your boyfriend/girlfriend was late in returning two weeks ago; or even refusing to pull yourself together and maintain your own life, and instead hanging on your significant other like a whining toddler. why? do you wonder if they'd stay with you if they saw your bad side? are you feeling neglected? are you so disconnected from your own thoughts and ideas that you cannot function alone? do you simply want power over the other person's emotions?

this kind of abuse has nothing to do with love. in fact, it usually has little to do with our real needs. what i'm wondering about is why no one realizes this? 2 years ago i became bulimic, for no other reason than to get revenge on my mother and my [then] boyfriend for not seeing my hurts and fixing them for me. i didn't talk honestly about what i wanted from them, i just resorted to playing a very sick game.
the most incredible thing is that i thought i was justified in doing so. it's crazy to think about, and crazy to think that i'm falling prey to the same urges almost a year after it ended. have any of you had similar experiences with someone close to you?

Rant on radio

2007-08-28T19:14:00.000+10:00

All I hear on todays radio are either has-beens trying to become post-modern diva/ rock stars with a pop twist, or remixed music of has-beens with a post-modern diva/ rock star with a pop twist. Neither are talent filled anymore.

My main focus is the music industry, only because it affects me. I don't think I've spend more than five minutes in the car dedicating my time to celebrity cop outs, who appear to be less than what we give credit for.

I began to think that it was creativity that died in the music mans soul, but now I sway to believe that it's the inspiration of creativity that's become sedated. Somewhere between songwriting and passion, came money. And that's as far as any artist needed to look. After the deal was sealed who cares what they write as long it's catchy enough to make the radio.

What's most annoying about the radio is that it's all the same. Everyones creativity and inspiration is coming from each other and it's all the same music. The songs the general population like (or are being force-fed) reflects their social values...or what should be their social values. Like sex, drive-bys, hating the president or raging against society. We all love these things right? The music industry assumes that we all think in unison.

I'm not saying to change your taste in music, your tastes are fine. From rap to rock, they both express what they mean. But next time you hear a song on the radio, why do you actually like it? I could pick buskers off the street with so much more passion and creativity that deserve to be given a chance, rather than the money-hungry singers that are following that stack of money hooked to a fishing line being tugged by the major record labels.

I've written this only because someone said to me 'you're the first person I know who listens to 70s and 80s music', and I wondered why I listen to it. The only answer I found was that yes, the video did kill the radio star, with half naked women washing cars on television screens singing songs that have no relevant messages other than 'sex is good'. I'm watching MTV for damn good music, not damn good body parts, but I assume I'm not like the population on this topic, we all like watching surgically plasticized women flicking their legs around, right?

Music To Our Ears

2007-08-25T13:53:00.000+10:00

Hey guys i have noticed that AYWF is dying down a bit, i know i have not been on this in a while mainly because i havent had much to write about or it has already been resolved.

I have found something to write about and it is going to involve you all who pay attention to AYWF. I dont know how many people have noticed but music actually plays a huge part in peoples lives.

The songs we listen to are usually how we feel at the present time, e.g. parties - dance music. I absolutly love music and im into a wide variety, and i know that most people here value and rate music in there life quite highly.

Basically my point to writing this is because i read lyrics to songs i like and i like to sing along when im alone and feel like singing a bit. I want you to sumbit curtain lyrics to a curtain song you love, and that may have meaning in your life. I want you to post a comment telling me the lyric that has a curtain importance to you and why.

You dont have to, im not forcing you i just thought we could get an idea of the type of lyrics you guys like and how it has become important to you.

I will start us off.

Band: Cauterize
Song: Choke

When the last word's been said and the last tear's been shed,
I will miss you, miss you my friend.
And I can't tell you lies.
Even after all these years I still cry.

What it means to me: This has a distinct meaning to me and although i do not listen to the song often its meaning still stands. This is to do with my brother who i did not know for very long as he died about 9 weeks after he was born. The fact that i did not have the chance to know him as well as i wanted to, he showed me something without having to spell it out in words. He showed me that you should always fight to live, He fought against the odds to last as long as he did, with all the physical problems he faced he was still able to teach me something. For that im thankful and it is something i will never forget for as long as i live.

The Real Tree by Zoey

2007-08-18T19:21:00.000+10:00

This is a post by Zoey, unfortunately she can't post her blogs on here due to connection errors, but she wanted this up here, so here it is!

"Two pictures of one tree. Both tree's looking exactly the same, as they should, being the same tree.

Picture one, drawn by an artist that has simply thought the tree as something that would look nice as artwork. This artist draws the tree how he see's it. Twisting branches, browning leaves, cute pink flowers and thick, old tree trunk.

Picture two, drawn by the owner of the yard in which the tree grows, who has grown up with the tree there whole life.

Who really paints the tree? The artist who has only seen the tree? Or the artist who has sat beneath it's shade, the one who has smelt it's flowers, crushed it's leaves, felt it's sticky sap on the skin, climbed into it's branches and scraped his shins on it's bark?

Now both of these artists may be very skilled when it comes to their craft; however, the first will paint what everybody sees... but the second will paint what the artist alone can see. And only one, will paint the real tree."

Possibly the greatest fear?

2007-08-16T08:07:00.000+10:00

"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light." -Plato

This quote fascinates me and can reluctantly be found true. As children learn, they overcome trivial, but valid fears of going to sleep at night in the dark. I know that I used to be scared of the dark, I always imagined that there was something that I could never see but was surely lurking inside. Over time I grew out of this fear, and I'm assuming many other people have too.

Men are more mature than children. Nothing short from obvious. But why do men seem to hide in the dark being emphatically afraid of stepping out into the light? Men are discontent to show who they really are and for that very reason, children are afraid to sought out who is looming in the shadows. The men are scared of the children seeing who they really are.

The men are hiding. A mere silhouette in front of the backdrop. Too cruel to be kind, too unforgiving to be forgiven, too scared to be sound. They are aghast at the sight of accepting who they are, so they refuse themselves and become withdrawn from society.

It can be difficult to accept yourself (men), then to accept society (children), but once you do, the fear is overcome. Just like children and their aphotic fears. The light is always the safer place.

The Slippery Pole

2007-08-15T18:32:00.000+10:00

Throughout i have made a few analogy's consulting life and how we revolve around it such as one of my earlier blogs (The Hole). I thought about this today in a different way and it was actually something which a teacher helped me realise just by listening to the story they were telling.

'The Slippery Pole'

When we want to achieve something we set a goal, when we want to fulfill it we climb, and at this point in time I'm using the slippery pole analogy. Simply because everyone will understand it. We climb the pole, passing checkpoints to achieve the goal which is at the top of this pole.

It seems easy right, of course nothing is in life which is why people take things for granted. As we climb we may find it harder because we tire or it becomes wet. Not the type of wet your thinking at the moment, but this kind of wet is the things that want to drag you down or persist in making things hard for you. It can be absolutely anything, friends, family, other goals etc. the list is endless.

The point in me writing this is because i want people to understand that even in the wet you can still grip on, as hard is it may be we push ourselves if we want it enough. I have an example of myself which may not be all that interesting but it is troubling me.

I want to become fit. Never easy right. I start the climb by changing my food habits and what not and to some exercise. Simple. For me not so simple, the thing that makes my pole wet and slippery to climb is the fact that i give up easily and are impatient, and to this day i struggle to keep going i simply let myself slip from a goal in which i thought i wanted so badly.

I don't want people to think "just because he fails he is still fine." Well I'm not, I'm extremely disappointed in myself for not being able to continue a process which is laid out for me, its as if I'm disobeying society's perception and stereotypical ways. failing something like this is leading me to have little confidence in myself.

I'm going to continue my way up the pole, hopefully i can come to terms that nothing is all that easy and we have to work for every thing we do not matter how big or small. No matter what goal you have in life the pole is going to get slippery and although it may not be very slippery, its just going to give signs that there is a chance that you can slip by making a little mistake or turning your concentration off for a split second.

The more slippery the pole becomes the harder it becomes to climb if you slip on a extremely wet pole, your going to fall, and your going to fall fast. Nothing is easy in life. People tend to go on thinking that everything will be easy, well it isn't, and hopefully someday your going to come to terms with it, hopefully someday i will to.

Dilemmas: A Series of Significance (SoS): #1 Respect

2007-08-15T17:50:00.000+10:00

The dilemma… in most peoples lives is respect, and lack there of. Encounters from other people and there individual interaction with one another plays a massive role in where we stand in our own lives. The problem could as simple as; telling a friend your opinion about another person. The basic fact is, as we (the current generation of young adults) become older, we should learn to respect others more. The only dilemma with this is, everyone has the capacity to accept others, but we choose not to for reasons that are as strong /weak as the lessons that we learn about ourselves. This comes for most after their ‘maturity’ has set in for the rest of their lives. This ‘maturity’ may take as long as 30 years to be fully established in a person, which is disappointing but the harsh reality we come to tolerate and acknowledge in today’s society.

Maybe someday we will learn the full truth about others once we have learnt everything about ourselves first. Self-respect is commonly known as the behaviour we pride ourselves on. The respect of accepting the person we are; towards others and most important themselves.

Maybe the dilemma isn’t respect at all; it could something more sinister we haven’t come to learn yet.

Short Doses (#3)

2007-08-11T18:34:00.000+10:00

For what price…?
For what price does a person pay to have their sins forgiven?
For what price does a woman pay to accept a man’s apology?
For what price do we pay to stop the war between nations?
For what price do we pay to get respect …or be respected?
For what price… must we pay…?

Confidence lacking respect

2007-08-11T16:14:00.000+10:00

It became apparent last night that some men have an excessive adrenaline exploding ego that simply can't be dealt with in the company of their encouraging friends.

Why is it that we feel the need to take confidence so far that it creates intimidation to the other people. I dislike the hierarchy of the metro-scene. Where we dance all night for the sole purpose of achieving someones lips pressed onto your own. And there's no desire, there's never any love in that kiss. It's only for the approval of your friends.

Yes, I may be generalizing, but this a way that so many instances that function like this become uncontrolled and that is when men begin to force themselves onto women.

I saw it a lot last night, where the overall majority couldn't take no for an answer and virtually pinned a woman onto the padded walls and moved their no-longer-idle-hands onto their defenseless bodies. And what does the mans friends do? They clap and cheer him on. To go further, to rub his body over hers and the only thing that separates them both is the cohesion of two sweaty tops that belong to themselves.

Modest anger and honesty

2007-08-07T16:37:00.000+10:00

I stabbed myself. There. That's what happened. I gave up on everything. Why? When problems seem to snowball, the laws of attraction state that like-things will be inherited. I inherited even more problems. Every time I let something slide, it would come back around twice as big and hit me twice as hard.

How did it feel? Well, scary. I literally scared myself. I was confused with myself but throughly understood what effect it had cast onto me.

Cutting is now an epidemic. People run to bathrooms with scissors in hand and cut away. When an issue becomes so intense, when you just want to stop thinking about it for just a second, the scissors become your gateway to relief. The searing pain absorbs so much of your anger and practically leaves you dry and empty. It's is relief from anger and nothing more. Nothing is restored, only reduced.

When people continue, they are reduced to nothing at all. Lifeless, loveless, dead.

We all need to know that the relief in cutting is only temporary. It never lasts. Ever. There was only one remedy for me. Friends. They pull you through. They are your support, advisers and most of all, are loyal.

I chose to write this blog for awareness. That even though stabbing myself would have never ever occurred to me, it did. It can happen all too easily.

So all I can say is, when it seems like a friend isn't themselves and pushes themselves away. Come closer. Don't listen to the words that profuse out of their mouths. For me, I pushed people away, remained defensively silent and craved attention...only push everyone away again. Don't fall for it. Push through so they can push through.

Postscript: This would be the add-on to 'Secrets are made to be told'. This is one of the larger secrets I've kept. I'm not ashamed, the worst thing I could possibly do was not take anything from this experience. Whatever you choose to do in your life, whether it's good or bad. Learn from it.

Secrets are made to be told

2007-08-06T18:57:00.000+10:00

I've kept things inside for far too long. I seem to think that time will fix every single problem that befalls unto me. But I'm wrong. I was unaware that subconsciously it was wearing me down. As if I'm walking down the road with a backpack, and slowly the backpack fills more and more. Why can't its contents just fall out? Why won't the bag just rip open?

We all have our secrets. As much as I don't like to keep them, I have them. I have many failed attempts at releasing them. The problem always was: who do I tell? Who would know how to tackle these problems with such assertiveness that once the coming problem has been dealt with, that is the end of it forever?

My personal issue is that there are so much complications to this problem that it has been made unique. Nobody can relate to a problem like mine. Nobody can give an easy answer to it, nor even attempt to answer it at risk that they would lose confidence and credibility in their own words.

Some things are very hard to hide. I don't intend to keep it in forever, but I'm looking for the right person. I need a resolve more than ever and this new-found public display of depression isn't something I favor.

Short Doses (#2)

2007-08-03T15:45:00.000+10:00

Stages…and its many different levels can play role(s) to the many things that make us, who we are. Whether if it’s a point in a person’s life, or a specified point in a song that brings forth emotion of memories.
When can the right stage be acceptable?
The dilemma can be as simple as choosing a song on the I-Pod. The certain point where you’re crossed between; an up-lifting song (because your sad) and a cherished song (to recollect lost memories). At what point do you suddenly realise you accept the lyrics for its meaning because it reflects life.

That life was yours.

“…The thing I cherish most in life can not be taken away, and there’ll never be a reason why, I will surrender to none…” - Disturbed (I’m alive) -

Update: Expanding AYWF

2007-08-03T12:05:00.000+10:00

OK, well James and I are getting excited about this, and we were discussing having an Amateur Youth Writing Faction myspace page. A myspace page would both promote and inform peers about what we're all about.

So to put this idea into practice, I was thinking perhaps we could whip up a logo? If you know anybody that has some talent in the computer graphics area, then please let us know. This would be a big help! Plus anyone who wants to help make the layout of the site, by all means, let us know.

Thanks all, take care, much love.

Your friendly neighborhood Chris-man.

(I haven't posted any proper blogs in a while, I'm try pick it up a bit once we get this myspace project underway!)

Short Doses (#1)

2007-08-02T20:41:00.000+10:00

I once wondered what happens when you take away the most significant possession of a person’s life.
Does that person then become better or worse off. It’s interesting to think about considering the different types of people in the world.
Some must have their items they hold dearly to continue to sustain life.
Whereas others in life have no houses, let alone possessions,
Are they more or less possibly unselfish and don’t care about much expect to be thankful for everyday that comes their way?

“The Mind Wobbles…”

The Hyper-Critically Wheels Of The Bus Go Round And Round...

2007-07-31T23:05:00.000+10:00

Why do people sit at the back of the bus?

If it’s one thing I have learnt recently, it has to be the extreme chaotic behaviour of some people catching the bus. Until now, like most people I thought catching the bus was, (and still is) an easy task to achieve without failure or complexity. The simple steps to follow were as easy as A, B, C’s. Just get on, pay the ticket, locate seat, get off and continue life as normal. But the surprising thing I discovered is the amount of times I have seen people go to making (almost) unnecessary acute decisions. Fearful of being ‘judged’ or seen ‘in an unfavourable seat’ by other occupants, can sometimes lead to an uncontrollable thought-process being triggered. This trigger produces an attempt of being ‘fashionable’ or ‘stylish’ as possible, almost instantaneous.

As a long time observer myself, I clearly see not only the diversity of people in Melbourne catching a some-what normal bus, but the extensive facial expressions they show after dearly noting the positions of other occupants. I’m no psychologist but, common sense is completely left in the gutter by some people upon entering the bus. These people can be of all ages. I vividly recollect one day, an old lady, small and defend less in size, almost ‘pushed’ without being told (verbally) by the youths at the back of the bus, to go sit at the front, immediately behind the bus driver. Whether this was because she was frightened of the younger generation or even a simple glance/stare from one of them alarmed her, it worked without a fiasco occurring.

Although in contrast to the older passengers, the younger people of today must locate a sit which, not only is next to their friends but is near enough to the ‘popular’ group at the back. Which for reason is this un-written law, which states you must be at the back or else you’re not ‘cool.’ It sickens the mature audience surrounded by this circus. The likelihood of someone actually taking any notice to the non- verbal behaviour occurring is just as rare as someone actually admitting they are that ‘clown’ in that circus

Maybe the next time I catch the bus, I could play a lead act of stupidity. It’s a shame too; I’m not very good at juggling with my life for the price of a bus ticket.

Expanding AYWF?

2007-07-31T21:39:00.000+10:00

I have discussed with chris over the holidays about possibly expanding AYWF to a broader range. I mainly brought this to Chris's attention simply because i felt that we could help people or even just read what others have to write as long as it is real and is to do with real things where we could give our own opinions and share our views.

We came up with a few suggestions, one being we move AYWF to the actual internet where the site beocmes a www. but as you know it would cost money and it is something we dont have although it is a possibility in the future.

Every person who has contributed to AYWF has really helped me realise a lot of things, anyone who has written a piece about something real has got to me in some way, i feel a better person. I feel better because you of AYWF have almost triggered a new me and new outlook on life. I have thanked Chris for everything he has done on many occasions and yet i feel it is not enough.

Everyone who has contributed something whether it be writing a blog here on the site or basically joining im asking you a favour. I am asking you to help me find a way to broaden the site, bring in members and read what other people have to write. I really enjoy reading what people write here and your contribution and feedback have truly given me new reasons for living in life.

So help AYWF become something big and spare any ideas you may have or of course if you disagree with me entirly i would really like to hear what you have to say if you feel we should stay to people we know.

Thank you all.

EDIT: Hey guys, Chris here. Just letting you know I completely agree with James and we are looking to expand our horizons, to make this site something bigger and better. This very website has been an impact in my life and has certainly helped me on my journey of self discovery.

What we aim to do is simple. Spread the word. There are hundreds of people around the globe who thrive to just take things off from their chest. Whether it be being gay, hating home, feeling alone, feeling used, being hated, being rejected, hurting, facing addictions/ obsessions and all the other traumas that are shaking our world.

If you know where we can promote this idea, then one day James's dream will become a reality and AYWF will become its own website that helps people all around the world.

The first step is promotion.

Regards, Chris.

You, me and the person looking back.

2007-07-30T16:35:00.000+10:00

"Is a mirror a true reflection of ones self?

One begs to bother to first ask this double meaning question in the first place. On the superficial level we can clearly have the idea that our brightly coloured dress or pink shirt is hot for a great Saturday night out. Or its consistent use to grab attention; Does my bum look big in this, honey? Can anyone honestly answer that, can they believe that is them looking back at them? Were they maybe expecting someone or, something for that matter to magically appear to improve their depreciating or already low self-esteem or what was left of it after their partners replied with; Of course, my dear.

But it’s the in-depth view of the person looking back at us, which makes us think; Are we beautiful? Do I feel accepted? Am I (too) de-attached from society? It makes us provoke emotion we didn’t want, or receive every well. While having that quick glance at our reflections on the glass, whilst pretending to look at the “pretty” plastic models on display, hide the fact that was beauty looking back at you? That someone was you? The one person in the world who revealed the truth to you about how you really felt about yourself deep down?

Could all beauty just be skin deep? Why? …is and often overused question mostly used by young kids asking their parents who didn’t, at the time, know the difference between right and wrong. Well couldn’t the same be applied here? Why does our reflection have to be only skin deep? It only shows that our face is relatively clean and clear from all nasty pimples, skin conditions or infections. Which in fact, only proves you’re human and not perfect, like the rest of us, who, from time to time, stress out and need a coffee to continue? Hence, everybody is covered in material for a purpose, to hide the person within. The heart, the most important of all in a person, is broken several times by ‘love’ from another person; can that in fact be reflected by a $15 mirror? Or does a ‘real’ or ‘true’ reflection of ones self need a strong and critical evaluation of our lives? To sit down one morning and realise, I have no ambitions, I have achieved nothing, what am I worth…full stop.

Which returns back to the first question; is a mirror a true reflection of ones self? Like everyone would like to believe, is the answer as simple as a yes or no answer. As simple to say yes because we want to strike that emotion or reaction in someone or ourselves to feel connected? Or maybe just as simple as to say no, to commend the thought of ever being something more than we could be, being more beautiful than we should be.

Maybe that is the more noteworthy question at hand;

How can we become more beautiful?"

This is not mine, but it was sent to me by a friend (whose name is also Chris) and I thought it would be great to put it up here. Comment your thoughts.

I believe that he is right, that mirrors only show us a beauty that travels skin deep. A mirror only shows you what you look like, and what you want to look like. It can't elaborate on anything else.

My Choice

2007-07-28T22:05:00.000+10:00

I have always felt as if i had been a single person my entire life, turned out i was not at all and i had been going down 2 separate paths in my life and i never new. I had been thinking that i would never have the trouble of being 2 sided but i know that some of my friends realise I'm very 2 sided and i never wanted to be like that.

I only came to realise a few months back, when i realised that there really was a softer side of me under the aggression, under the one who follows others just to feel like i would be accepted because everyone wants to feel accepted and i know not everyone is because of the way most people are portrayed these days.

I always thought that i was me and me only, but coming to realise this has made me feel quite uneasy about myself and where i really stand in my life. Onto the 2 sides of me firstly what I'm usually known for and secondly what i have become.

First side : i thought i was quite aggressive and toyed a lot with risks and would back down immediately if i was against the odds. Somewhat of a follower, try hard and yes i admit i have back stabbed a few people before and mislead a lot of people which looking back on it i did not like

Second side : With this side of me i feel refreshed like i have been given a second chance. I care so much for peoples well being and opinions, i always give my honesty and not go with whatever my friends think. I like helping others and have a broader mind filled with many many things.

I have always been worried about what others think of me but now I'm more concerned with what my friends think of me. Some of the people like Chris has become somewhat of a close friend and i trust and he has shown me the new side of me i really have him to thank because i really enjoy the newer side of me. Those who know me by the caring way are those who really have not known me quite long maybe 1-3 years if that. The ones who have known me longer know me by the first side which is why i am worried.

I am worried that if i sway more to the caring side the friends Ive known for a while will become more the friends i 'once new', I'm really confused and frustrated with myself because i feel like I'm pressured to be someone I'm not, the real question is who am i really? Side 1 or 2 and which do i choose because i do not want to be known for being 2 faced that's for sure.

Leap Of Faith

2007-07-28T21:28:00.000+10:00

Have you ever been asked to say something about yourself, like in a quiz, or test, something like that?Well.. I have. I have found sometimes when asked to say something personal, I think "I find it hard to open up to people." I have noticed that this is in a weird way.
If I have recently met a person, or known of them a while and then start talking to them, I quite easily talk to them about anything and everything. Even if it's really personal. Then when it comes to the people I refer to as my close circle of friends, I don't really tlak - I tend to put distance between us like that. Even physically, I don't really sit with them all if I don't have to.
Me being me, am trying to figure out why.

I guess one reason is my constant fear of getting hurt. I have had the experience of my 'best friends' back stabbing me, and telling people what I have said in confidence. All the time going aorund our little circle is something along these lines: "so-and-so did this/said that ... but I was sworn to secrecy, you can't tell anyone, blah-blah who told me was told not to tell anyone, so-and-so can't know you know!!!" I'll admit most of the information I receive this was I am intrigued by. While all this is going on, I a sitting there thinking, "What does sworn to secrecy mean to you?!". Some of the things I have told my friends, need not go any further. If I wanted anyone else to know, they would know. I get this feeling after I tell them things sometimes... like I can hear the whispers starting already.

Another thing more in relation to how I feel about things/people...
Sometimes when people ask me questions about how I feel about them, I tell them what I think they want to hear because I am either scared I'll hurt them, or scared of what they'll think of me. Other times I will look at the person think "I should trust them...", take a leap of faith, and say exactly what I am feeling. I should probably point out that that is usually when I think I know what the other person is going to say - or am being 'hopelessly hopeful'.
Unfortunately, every single time I have taken that plunge, it has backfired and I have been left to feel awkward and sorry I said anything.
Stop. Think.
Why in the world should I be sorry for how I feel? They are my feelings, unique to me.
To feel sorry for how I feel, is like being sorry for being myself. No one should ever have to apologize for being themselves. It's like saying you're sorry for breathing!
There's a song I like, it's by Kid Courageous, called "One In A Million". There's one line in particular I'd like to share:
"So if I take a chance on you, and fall flat on my face, at least I know I tried."

I'm the one who has to live with the decisions I make. If I live to regret things I've done/didn't do, that's my burden to carry. I don't want to be the one always asking "what if...?" and thinking "if only...". I want to know I did what I could at the time that I thought was right to do.
Regret is a hard thing to live with.

For now, all "what if...?"s and "if only.."s aside

I know I tried.

The tree

2007-07-26T21:52:00.000+10:00

Walking home in the dark, melodic music chiming in my ears softly. Before me is an old tree. This tree has been there my whole life, I walk past it every single day. I appreciate the tree on windy days because whenever I walk past it, it sounds as if the wind is talking as it is being tared by the small leaf-like branches. The sound of the wind is amplified so much that it is hypnotizing.

Tonight, with no reason as to why I was going to do it. I approached the tree and tore off a branch. I pocketed my headphones and I swung the branch from left to right and listened as it cut straight through the wind.

I walked a little further so that my house was in sight, my parents were home. I wanted to take the branch with me, but there was no way I could bring it inside without them knowing. So to avoid the obvious questions of why I was bringing a branch into the house, I placed it between another tree and an empty beer bottle that had remained there for days. In hope that I see it again the next day to listen to it once more.

That single tree is beauty. Made as an instrument to conduct the wind. Made to voice the cries its as it travels across the world.

I couldn't help but think: was that the tree speaking to me, or the wind? Like English, Arabic, Greek, Italian, Spanish, Lebanese, Hungarian and many more languages that are spoken right under the same sky, I believe that nature possesses its own very unique language.

Random Brain Waves (I Just Typed...)

2007-07-24T21:28:00.000+10:00

I am scared to death of losing people I love. But I tend to push peole away. I get a bit scared when someone is very close to me. I find it unnerving when they can tell when I am upset even if I am covering it up. I get annoyed when the ask me a million times "Are you ok?". Why? Good question. They are only trying to see if I'm alright because they care about me. That's nice.

I don't want to go to sleep at night because I don't want to dream. Sometimes I have the most whacked out dreams, I wake up and I am like "What the.. that was weird." In others I am being chased by a serial killer. Why the hell would a serial killer want to kill me? Apart from the fact they are obviously insane, what makes me so important? *Vanity*. Other times, my drams remind me too much of reality. Nightmares about what I've done in the past, or hat could happen in the future. It terrifies me because there are possibilities, that it could happen. My best friend could turn her baqck on me after I have hurt her so many times. One of the biggest pillars in my life could disappear in the blink of an eye.

I don't want to stay awake at night because lack of sleep makes me deranged.

I have a group of really amazing friends, who I push away through my words, my thoughts, and my actions. With people I have opened up to... I sometimes go into major shutdown. I feel so bad sometimes about this, I mean I really don't like some of the people I hang out with on the daily, but I act like their friends. I hate being fake. Hypocritical or what. One girl in my main group, clicke whatever you want to call it, is not on the greatest terms with me. She has caused me so much hurt and pain, has the gaul to attack one of my best friends, and practically everyone else she lays eyes on. In some ways I guess I am jealous of her, she has lots of freedom compared to me. Anyone has lots of freedom compared to me. But I have a choice, and I have made my mind up with regards my life. She has her choices too. What I think of them, in the long run, doesn't really matter. I have to be able to live with mine.

I had a boyfriend who I adored totally who now, I am scared to see. I don't want to say a lot on this particular topic as everyone on this site (I think) knows the person and that's just rude. But yeah... things were good, things were made bad by (guess who!!! i would jump up and down and say pick me pick me, but I don't really want to, it's a waste of the energy I already lack, but yeah, you get the point?), then things were weird, and now it's just so damn complicated. He makes me sad. But happy. I think I am good at being a friend now. Then again, it get's complicated.

I have a supportive, wonderful family. Full Stop! I treat them like crap sometimes... I say the worst things. But yeah.. I do love them... incase it was unclear.

There are so many things I can't say out loud, I guess that's why I write. Not exactly saying it, but it gets everything, out there. I like the freedom of expression. I like getting peoples opinions, but I guess I find it easier by posting on a site like this, or my poetry site than face-to-face. I am too worried about what other people think of what I say.

I am too scared of what other poeple think. I watch what I say, how I act, generally everything I do because of this fear. I wrote something a while back along these lines:
"I guess I want to be "accepted" subconciously... but me now (not in a confronting situation), doesn't really want their acceptance. These people are people I don't want to, care to, need to, or desire to be accepted by. I don't like them."
Then, a smart little Chris said to me "I think you are TELLING yourself you 'dont care' about certain things just hoping to believe what you say.", and now... I agree. I am just hoping one day I'll grow out of wanting their acceptance. Even after the people I don't think I like, there are people I know I want to accept me. Be my friend (with the chainsaw.... bad joke) !!! And I think about what they must see when they look at me (here comes all the low self esteem blah blah that I am going to skip.. you don't need to know at this point in time how low I think of myself) , what could I possibly say to keep them talking, even if it's not being me
... and then remind myself "They aren't worth being friends with if they don't like you just as is" so I don't try to impress, I just.. flow.. and see if it works. Sometimes it does, and I have so many amazing people around me, as my friends, to prove that. And enough stress to prove the first theory. Too hung up.

I ask myself why I feel like this (see above examples) about things, why it turned out like this, why I do the things I do, why I am the way I am... I guess life is just a big journey of self discovery. We never stop learning. We never stop taking in information. We never stop forming opinions. We never stop.
I have so many questions about all of the things around me, sometimes I am too scared to ask, too afraid of the answers I'll get.

I want that to stop, today.
I want to be able to ask without feeling like an idiot.
I want to live without being scared.
I want to be able to show my friends I care about them.
I want to be open with someone without being wary of them.
I just want to go for it. Just live.

Let's see how that goes.

Recognition

2007-07-22T20:12:00.000+10:00

Over the last couple of weeks I have felt worse and worse about myself. I have sat in my room, slept, gone on the computer and just tried to keep to myself. I was dreading the return to school. Having to face everyone again. To put on the plastic smile and pretend like everything is ok. When I know deep down it isn't. Something isn't right.

It came to me the day before last, as I had just had a very bad day at school, and alot of things from the past had been brought up. And my aunty asked me to do the washing up, take the clothes off the line, mop the floors and clean the mirrors. I really wasn't up to it, and just wanted to lie on my bed, listen to music, sleep, just anything to relax for a while. I felt so drained.

But still, she has just been through a pretty rough divorce, and I didn't exactly want her screaming at me at the moment, because I probably would have slapped her. So I got up and did the washing up mopped the floors did the mirrors and took the clothes off the line. I finally dragged myself back to bed and just lay there. I think I fell asleep because when I opened my eyes she was walking into my room. Which was unexpected.

She was upest at me for using the wrong polish on the mirrors. I was lectured about not listening and not doing anything right. And the whole time I was thinking, atleast I tried. But I only ever get noticed when I do something wrong. Not when something is done right. She didn't notice the clothes, the floors or the washing up. No. Only noticed the flaw.

As you can imagine I felt pretty crushed.

South Africa

2007-07-21T18:46:00.000+10:00

I had my first shift as a volunteer worker, knowing I'd be helping others is a big step for me and a long awaited one at that. What I didn't expect was the burst of inspiration and knowledge of the world around me. Stories so severe and tragic that I was close to tears. To think that a small group of children no older than 12 could impact my life so profoundly made a shocking revelation.

While learning about space, the children saw pictures of planets, meteors and space rockets. One of the children squealed (as most children often do) and exclaimed "I've seen one of those, I've seen one of those!!"
A real rocket? A 9 year old saw a real rocket? The teacher asks "Have you? Where?"
"In my country! In my country there are rockets!"
My stomach sank. Obviously the child had seen a missile. He lived in a country where warfare was a second nature, a missile was only scenery to them. Knowing this scared me. These children live in constant war and poverty, a medium of hell was their only home.

I could never bring myself to discipline a child, whenever I saw a child snatch something off another, it was not because they had no manners. It was the way they lived. In poverty, whatever you can get your hands on, is all that you really have. How can you change that mentality? How can I tell them that we live in a commonwealth country, that we can share and benefit from sharing? That there are refuges for the homeless and rations for the famished?

If I learned this in less than two hours, then there is so much more to know about the world around me in the lifetime that I have, and before I combat the problems of the world, I need knowledge of the issues. South Africa has so much beauty but it's humanity that killed it.