Love life. Live love.

brand new canvas

2009-12-16T14:18:00.003+11:00

www.stainedfingers.wordpress.com
A whole new blog engine for hopefully fresh new steps in my outlooks on life.

I think everytime I reinvent myself, the hardest part is finding a new name. I haven't worn into this name yet, but I suppose I will. What is a name but letters strung together to pronounce a sound I'm to be called by anyway?

Today is lovely, as are you.

four and a half years laid to rest

2009-11-22T23:45:00.003+11:00

Tonight, I close this.

I think I've learnt much over these 4 and a half years of restlessness, curiousity, soul-searching and very critiquing reflection. If you would so much as peruse through the first year or two of this blog, you'll bare naked my shameful writing style and abstractly riddled concepts. From being afraid of being known but wanting so much to be in 2005, my technique has changed yet that fact has not by 2009. I've learnt how to tantrum with type rather than on people, yet I have invisible readers who come here only to be burdened by my legible vomits of social guilt and self-despise. I don't plan to bottle these emotions having established writing as my relief from implosion, however, I no longer intend to dwell on them (although I doubt I could be completely apart from it, since I think I've become skilled at hating myself for my embedded narcissism).

I will birth a new page to empty myself onto, but all that later. In the mean time I will spill onto the "little appendix page"- but that one never held a concrete position like this one. Both blogspots will no longer manifest my thoughts or feelings, my instability or motion-sickness. These pages are closing. Thank you. Whoever you are, I always wanted to be read, but I never wanted to be influenced by my readers into producing for them, so I appreciate you being invisible (but I do appreciate you, "ritzy", for being a regular blog-support). This chapter of self-discovery I close and a new one I will open before the new year. I suppose when I'm grown up, I'll come back here (given blogspot does not collapse on me), and remember my insecurities, my joys, a few passions and appreciate growth.

Abba, this is all very uncertain; this something new I give to you.

Goodnight, my loves.
I'll write.

ps: life ain't gonna get any better, you are.

2009-11-21T14:37:00.002+11:00

right.

let's scrap this plate and dwell in superficial for a while now.
i fell in love with this $150 adidas multitasking number.

oh and i dont want to write here anymore.

Dear God, I'm gross, look away but don't leave me.

2009-11-20T01:06:00.005+11:00

What I can't stand, is how desensitised to counterfeit value and oblivious to genuine love I've become. The instruction to be in the world and not of it has fallen like dry words, resembling autumn's open morgue of dead leaves, for me to crackle under my every hypocritical step. I want so much to be away from here. Where can you find purity in this here perverse and overtly shameful surface we momentarily dwell? My best friends are loosing theirs and the children I love part-time are trading theirs for "something cooler". My desires of late frequent passionless, purposeless, faith-weak 'things'. Love is reflected less and less in the things I do and the little I do express somehow benefits...me. My prayers are inconsistent and mostly confined to the walls of the church. My church is lovely, but attending isn't going to satisfy my spirit. The church cannot drag me into a limp relationship with an Almighty God. Having reflected on the little I do and the much I waste, my disgust of my current position has me rushing headlong into shallow pools of rash quick-fix attempts to "cure" myself, or at least, slow my fast demise into a soulfully ugly. I have to stop watching tv like I do, I have to get over these self-promoting networking sites like facebook. I need to reacquaint myself with the fear of the Lord, because I don't fear him at the moment, not nearly enough to be quaking from my stupidity and half-hearted everything. Why didn't that mission trip change me? Why didn't the testimonies I cried over make me a better person? Why do I find myself at the alter week in, week out having ruined everything I tried to re-establish within 7 days of trying? Why am I here again? Why haven't I changed anyone?

I used to wonder how Israel could have forgotten all the good that God had done for them in years, months, days...but I am no more righteous than they, I am just the same.

But I know the perfect time for change is...

tomorrow.

butter fingers

2009-11-16T15:55:00.002+11:00

oh geez, i love this clip, her glove is wicked. his style is admirable...i think

I'm attracted to the high life. Went to a fancy place last night, entered rigid and slightly horrified, exited having made friends with the bartender- a beautifull 23yo who made me my first martini . I loved it. I plan to go again, not to dine, but to sit at the bar, talk with my new friend enjoy the deco, etc, etc, occassion to look good, forget pretences, forget patterns and feel like a night could be worth more than my bank has ever held.

At present, my thoughts elude my commitments. I said I'd think about things, important things and do things, things that resemble responsibility...thus far my words and actions have not equated any of these. I daydream and I wonder what it would be like to be "free" - whatever that means - not confined by either my two digit bank account or my fears...and responsibilities.

Hello God, I've been avoiding you of late...
I need to find you or my limitless and pointless and selfish desires will consume me and I will have wasted much time when you by far surpass these. I'm looking for validation again and I know where to find it, I don't know why it takes me so long to return to you. Seeing my friends' apparently satisfying validation via other means deceives me. I have none but you here, none but you near. Now where's that bible?

ps: i'm not in love.

2009-11-08T21:10:00.002+11:00

I think a misconception of regularity, but one of very common sense, is that pattern erodes meaning. On a very separate note, I think my sister's natural beauty is magnified when she's got hair behind one ear and the same shoulder and not behind the other ear with her hair in front of the latter shoulder. Sort of like half back, half forward.

...I think I'm going to learn video editing to launch my 2nd newest hobby, since my newest hobby was learning the ukulele and it appears everyone who previously knew how to play the guitar seems to know how to pick up and play my ukulele, I don't feel too special having learnt one song in 20minutes when kev learnt it in 2. That was too long a sentence, I doubt it made sense.

So no, I'm not in love, I think my particular sense of absence at the time isolated my expression of missing two friends in particular last night, thus appearing infatuated. Catherine Zeta Jones is -insert-selected-word-for-"very-beautiful"-...

I'll be in trouble tomorrow. I rather save the world than do my assignments.
the key to Hillary: eheh

there is no alternative

2009-11-08T00:44:00.003+11:00

pass
fight
fall
try
dance
bite
fail
fly

I can't seem to make any of this comprehensive. There is no collateral. I have frustratingly lonely, seemingly insignificant puzzle pieces and the only concept resembling "sense" is the absence of the other pieces. All I know is that I miss you right now and I'll have to get through it without you because that's the only way I'll get to see you later.

You'd never know though, I'd never tell you.

I mean, I just did, but I don't even think you come here.

positioned horribly

2009-11-05T15:08:00.003+11:00

seventeen pimples to outlive by saturday, two and a half assignments by monday.
who ever said life was boring?

the convenient friend

2009-11-03T11:01:00.002+11:00

i just wondered why I'm interested in the people I'm interested in, and why I'm friends with the friends I'm friends with.

I think, for the most part, it came down to convenience. Beginning transitional stages from acquaintance to friendship were weighed with convenience in most cases.

I also caught myself wondering how comfortable I'd feel with a boyfriend. This was followed by reprimand as my past few days indulged in much wasted time and a boyfriend would only make me feel better about wasting time, which is hardly a challenging relationship. That is my fear, that upon establishing a relationship intended for the remainder of my lifetime, comfort would become a snare, clogging the crevices otherwise intended as friction to challenge each other, iron on iron. Having witnessed my friends find a comfortable rut to settle into with a "nice" companion, with whom all things feel-good accompany, strikes me at grossly pointless.
As is, my time is my responsibility. My emotions and moods and motivations are my responsibility. If I feel like dirt, it is my responsibility to climb out of that hole; if there are frustrations and difficulties, it is mine to flesh out. However, this paves the way to another fear I abhor, that I would become a self-made person, giving rise to pride, excessive defence-mechanisms and lack of trust in other people...not to mention failure.

I can't remember ever having achieved a beautiful balance. It's as elusive as the horizon.

Wahaha, apart from this we're-all-doomed-to-the-thousand-different-ways-of-perishing lament, I've actually got to get off my hypocrisy heavy ass and begin to do work. Today, I'd like to have ticked off 25% of my second last essay, learnt how to tune and play a handful of chords on the ukulele, gone for a walk/jog, written my observations from placement, returned a library book and I wont get too ambitious with my day, not because I don't like ambition but because I don't want to fail today, because there's been too much of it lately.

ps: i hate writing about boyfriends and relationships, but it was at the tip of my fingers and the concept is very bittersweet. I'm the skeptic outside looking in, who hopes to not have to eat her words at a later date.

sometimes i imagine i'm the director

2009-11-02T01:10:00.002+11:00

my very very first youtube upload video montage:

This is a bad time to discover a new hobby...

wish you were here, ex oh ex oh.

2009-10-31T11:58:00.002+11:00

My inaccurate thermometer points its fluro yellow finger to 25. I'm quite certain it's about 3 degrees higher than accurate, so I would believe it was 22 degrees in the kitchen at present. The house is empty, save me. The fridge hums a straight B note while the washing machine gargles and digests the dark clothes. Today sighs "indoor tranquility" while outside maintains the alter ego of a tempestuous siren, who who lure out the unsuspecting eager to enjoy a day prancing outside, only to get heavily burned and smitten with exhaustion and probably dehydration.

My gown-ish, dress-ish horizontally striped deep blue and white pajamas, I don't plan to change out of today unless somebody calls me to. I drove my cousin to the station this morning in them and they didn't have a detrimental effect on the world so I decided that comfort, today will be my abyss.

I wish you were here now. I just want to...be, just be and not do anything at the moment but just be...with you. But I won't today, so instead I'll see God for lunch and we'll have chats instead!

The tune I'm totally charmed by right now is Jet's "She's A Genius". There's something about the exclamation of the label "Genius" that just allows the receiver of the compliment to walk on sunshine. One day I'll be a genius, to at least one other person...(one could only hope).

Happy day chumps, we'll make today a better-than-yesterday!

ps: should I go to oaks day? and spend $50-70? and get sunburnt with the uni girls?

799

2009-10-28T23:51:00.002+11:00

There's nothing like a light reprimand from an omnipresent God to reiterate how purposeful and intention-careful one must be when trying to be a salty representation of said God.

It was my idea to go to the beach. It was also my idea to drive a heck of a lot this week. It was my idea to offer lifts to who-ever in my last week of uni. My intention, I thought, was to be helpful to others, to use these opportunities to spread a little bit of love.

Alas, to my horror, my intentions were intertwined with selfish underlining. So today, in graceful nudges, the God -whom I love- told me to bite my tongue and stop complaining. He asked again who I was really doing what I was doing for. And finally asked if I wanted the words I say to have little meaning and to be in lines of irrational or throwaway-lack-of-authenticity patterns.

I didn't like my attitude. I still sort of don't.
I was, however, satisfied with this conviction and felt relieved by the truth of the wise, wise spirit who resides within me.

Thank God for God...
& beaches, & tie-dye skies in spring sunsets.

from my birthday 08 until now: these were the thoughts that weren't published. But the old me fascinates me and maybe you so i'll publish them now.

2009-10-27T11:22:00.002+11:00

1/5/08
your beauty is beyond me!
and the day's been...interesting, all events aside. I was blessed a little more than usual today, materials and materials placed in front of me, things worth value in this world and laughable matters that would usually entertain me...so here, heres to another year, heres to the realisation that nothing is of worth to be aside from your love. To the yearning for something eventful to happen, because you make my world

10/05/08
i'll have the isolated dish, thanks

So it appears my appetite has dropped, or my freedom to afford it has anyway. No, not the money, though it does seem to have a way of disappearing unexpectedly. However, my hunger to learn about Love and the infinite definitions that we define it by has upped in its own ante. It seems...nothing is as it seems. Oh the cliche has captured me today. And i go through experiences where i want to be annoyed and cannot remove my peace of mind or the weak but permanent smile. OR i want to be happy but i cannot un-furrow my brow and the smile seems to fall off like an un-sticky sticker.

So, you told me, a whisper ago that you

23/05/08
Depresso Espresso now now, why get all resentful and disapointed.
Generation Y, my dear generation. you never fail to break my heart and make me feel it is acceptable to feel broken. But it's not oke. it's not oke. You're not oke.
Your too quickly disheartened and too quickly accepted for it.

29/05/08
i didnt understand today.
It was like everything that needed to be done exploded in a mushroom cloud.

1/06/08
i think home has felt my absence of late. i dont like being home to process the thoughts that bother me. so i disapear to somebody else's home. it is an easy procrastination. Plus, i enjoy the company of my friends.

09/07/08
congratulations on making it thus far!
I was actually in search of intelligent conversation and your name sprung to mind!

14/07/08
in all honesty
i think ive begun to feel my personal space a little crowded.
and i love yoru company, i just think i might've overdosed myself a little.

17/07/08
it was still about me

24/07/08
i wanted to do it. myself.

7/08/08
think im loosing my mind

what more can i add?
i might be loosing my calm also...

7/08/08
i want to close my eyes and not say a word in the safety of your embrace, with only the request "wake me when it's over".

07/09/08
75%

YEAH WELL...what can i say?
doubts happen.

11/09/08
They all mentioned their dues, the entire time he was hardly listening. One by one, stating something or other about why they were there. It was all a fog, he couldn't care about their concerns and successes, he didn't have the capacity to. All too quickly the talk came to settle on him, and the murmurs of the room subsided into a suitably eerie culture as he took the floor.

Nausea was not far from him.
"Hi, I am...new here."

"Haha! Hi New Here!" "What's your name!" "Name buddy!" The chorus of taints kept his walls up.

"It doesn't matter. I'm here now but I won't be for long. I'm just here, at rock bottom to find out what's holding me back"

"I've got the answer for you! NOTHING. You fell by your own accord and weak devices...like the rest of us"

He wanted to hit her but she was already at the same pathetic place he was and some sort of truth came from her putrid lips.

09/10/08
One more, she is a liar

13/10/08
I'm no local from this dark place, just passing through.
Just so happens today sits on the more beautiful scale of life.

15/10/08
he said "i love the smell of bridesmaids in the morning"
i thought about it, then agreed.

3/12/08
The want wishfully list:
-Joy in my Job for January.
-Fun and friends in the freedom of February till uni starts up again.
-A Routine to march strongly

16/01/09
all anyone needs to know is that what we do is worthwhile

22/01/09
This idiotic desire for senseless adoration gnaws at me. Just to be spoilt by someone(s) I could forget soon after and call upon only at will. I want to waste time, precious as is. I want not to care, to be the unrequited lover. So I believe it a blessing in disguise that there is none I hold in intimate enough regard to take advantage of this way. You lie to me and for the better, but I feel worse. Then again, feelings are like the shifting sands we insist on building upon.

14/02/09
I want to go somewhere forgotten, somewhere abandoned,
and allow escape to my frustrations through destruction.
I want to scream. Your lies are caught inside my head.
I don't believe you. I don't believe you.
It's funny now, I feel like the tide is more unpredictable and considerably more extreme than...I forget.

I hate what if's. Wishful thinking at it's most desperate.

20/03/09
My fingers want to type out stories but my head can't keep up.
I'm seeing my best friend today. She's something special.
It's funny how I call her my best friend now. We don't have to be close, and she'd still be it, but we are...occasionally.

28/05/09
I still wonder occassionally what would happen when love happens.

08/06/09
Guess I'll give it a try.
Can't loose no more time it's now or never

I tried to remember who I used to be.
I can't carry on like this I will lose my friends

Don't say that you have given up on me.
LOVE? COME BACK AND PROTECT THIS

I see them coming. Mediocrity and Melancholy

Forgive me Father, I know not what I do.

2009-10-24T00:34:00.004+11:00

Yes...having sobered from my self-despise slash frustration slash forgotten security slash blind selfishness, I now see strikingly clearer. The dust my own feet kicked up has somewhat settled and I've begun to see the mess in bitesize and chewable chunks. None of any of my solutions (hopefully long-term and routine) have anything to do with anybody else. It's all on my head. This here child is wanting to grow up.

I'm sort of ashamed of the fits I throw, my implosions of senseless bitterness, my excuses to abuse my body (yes, I've acknowledged over-eating and emotional eating as self-inflicted harm and although somewhat amusing, utterly stupid and too influential of my daily handling), my obvious negligence regarding friends with the excuse that "they started it!" and finally, my semi-devotion (the much loathed, luke-warmth) to God. All of the above, I'm attempting to "fix" for the umteenth time in my hopes of being a better person, in my hopes of meaning what I say, and walking as I boast.

Heck, I'm a billboard for Christianity and I'd hate to think that I might so much as project a crumb of anything contrary to the agape love, passionate justice and absolute truth that God is. But who am I fooling? I'm nowhere near the sort of Christian standard that Jesus illustrated in his many parables and teachings.

So I'll sweep everything off the table and try and try and try again. Because we only live once and because my life is but a breath. But a breath, let me be one most refreshing. Start again, I have nobody to blame. Moth Teresa and Helen Keller (just to name a couple) didn't blame anyone. They probably had less means than I (save the strength from their depths) to change the world and ripple such a violent recoil into poverty's unequivocal hold on mankind- that continues to inspire many a hopeful also to wage war on selfishnes-, that silences my complaints. As mentioned by the mentor, in the grand scheme of things, how petty are these complaints...really. Go and dig up gold in the friends whose elbows are driven sharp into your side - yeah, go and get over yourself.

But a breath. No more, no less.
...I say all this now and I'm sure I sound very brave, but I...yeah, have no idea.

oh, do i make you sick too?

2009-10-21T19:09:00.002+11:00

I've wasted so much time today, hopefully I can go to church in 45minutes and feel better about myself, the world and this wasted time. But now that I've said it like that...my feel-good hopes will probably evade me. I shame Christianity, don't I? I'll say sorry now and mean it later.

What are you doing, Nicole? You're getting fat.
Oh shut up ya face is ugly.
So BiPolar right now.
You're beautiful. Bite me.

don't be late now, don't you die

2009-10-19T09:47:00.003+11:00

So you walk the stage, come to the mic, close you eyes while the drummer hits the sticks and although only four times, each one deafens your consciousness. The song's started, you don't know the words yet, but they'll come. You'll rock for the few who think you're worth the dime, worth the time. And you've never felt so unprepared in your life that you clench your teeth to keep down the bile. You can't be weak now, you can't give up now, and it's got nothing to do with you and everything to do with not letting them down. They're all watching, you can't let them down. If you screw it up, make it a fantastic screw-up. If the words don't come, sing the most incredible inaudible song that nobody can remember not understanding.

I don't know what I'm doing. But Heck, suck it up and play it by ear. Try to predict and prepare as much as possible, but don't be a selfish, lazy twig. They need you now. They need you now.

They need me now.

I need them now. (one, two, three, four)

To Whom It May Concern

2009-10-16T17:42:00.003+11:00

I've never known a beauty as vibrant as the life you live
You inspire me with your generosity that in poverty, still gives
Regardless of heartache, you'd still find reason to sing
In despair, your entire life to Christ you'd bring

To those in my life who continue to teach me how to love, how to love unconditionally. To those examples of humility, faith and generousity who although human, hardly waver. For those who seldom give up and only do so to the Lord. Thank you for hoping in me. Thank you for praying. That you for investing. Thank you for your love. Thank you for living a life greater than yourselves. Thank you for your dissatisfaction with present life, thank you for being angry about injustice. Did I tell you I'd be honoured to be just a snippet of all of you?

Love much, your secret (not so secret) admirer.

Faith in its fullness.

2009-10-02T10:10:00.004+10:00

This year's ambitions have hardly manifested from spoken into being. The two words I have seem to have trouble understanding are partway lodged in my throat and make swallowing everything else a little uncomfortable since those two themselves haven't been properly digested.

Faith & faithfulness.
Faith: being sure of things hoped for and certain of things unseen.
Faithfulness: sticking with it.

My latest complaint was that my university studies were a hindrence to me (yes, the maturity in that statement is overwhelming). Then, revert I back to memories of cartoon heros of my childhood who saved the world as masked crusaders but who never neglected to do their homework...

I want to be a hero. I really do. I want so much to gallop upon gleaming horse, with cape flapping in the wind to my world in destress. To defend those I love, bandage their wounds, give them souvenier of strength in which to later use in their own defence, etc and so forth.

But it starts with this essay...strangely enough. With the two more essays of pressing urgency following it. It probably doesn't make sense to you, it hardly makes sense to me. But being faithful in the little things means being faithful in the things that mean little to you...like the three 2000word essays to ensure I don't fail university and I do graduate as a teacher and I then go on to rocking the world the way I know I'm supposed to.

The end.

i hope i dance

2009-09-30T09:59:00.002+10:00

So we pick up and keep moving. It's beautiful outside.
You're way cool. I've placed bets on you.

I hate, I love, I need, I want.

2009-09-26T23:45:00.004+10:00

hello, my today was quite under-achieved.
how was yours?

I hate failing.
I hate not having the ideal, the perfect, the intention.
I hate that fairytales are so loved and despised at the same time.
I hate that everyone has to protect themselves so thoroughly as not to be shattered.
I hate feeling like this.

I love that my feelings don't change my value to just one other.
I love that beauty, real beauty has nothing to do with my face.
I love that laughter is free and smiles are healing.
I love remembering that there are people who have my back and who intercede for me.
I love that my paranoid hallucinations pale when I find refuge in the arms of a never forsaking God whose peace transcends all understanding, whose love is absolute and whose word is truth.

The truth is what I need right now. Your love is what I want.

It's nice to be adored.

2009-09-24T16:39:00.004+10:00

As opposed to having to meet people aged teenager and up, the littlier successors of the human race have a way of trampling insecurities. I suppose it's the lack of "real-size" humans being available to guide the young'uns through the "how to"s of life- ensuring that the few who do are worth their weight in gold to the waist-height adoring eyes of primary aged kids.

Today, part-way through the day at our church's local holiday program initiative, as I went to wash handfuls of paint off my hands and attempt to wash it off my dag-knit jumper, I caught the reflection of my far-from-glamorous surface. It was one of those I-look-so-unimpressive-I'm-impressed days but I just smirked and continued scrubbing my hands and the elbows of the kids around me, totally grateful of the adoration I had absorbed in one day alone (especially from the girls who think the world of me). I don't even think the world of me! These girls are more beautiful than I yet they are blind to my ugly days! It's like I can't be ugly enough for these children! It surprises me how people wouldn't be climbing over each other for the opportunity to bathe in the smiles and laughter of the fresh and innocent!!

It amazes me firstly that God would delight in me like he does, that he would somehow see a beauty beyond my understanding. But what stuns me further is that there are a handful of humans who would similarly adore me! I'm not exaggerating when I say, "Today I looked like crumbs", yet when I pulled up a few chairs to sit behind the children, they rallied to the empty seats beside me because...
because for some reason they wanted to be near me, around me, with me...like me.

With that reason alone, I cannot excuse myself from doing the very best with life as I possibly can. I not saying that I am their one and only salvation, but they hope in me, the little they see of me - they mimic and learn from. I've so far to go - but if I could pave the way for these adorable adorers, I would. I will. I am.

I can't stop saying it lately, I love these children.

post number five oh five

2009-09-21T17:52:00.003+10:00

i'm exhausted.
to say the least.

i've also fallen in love with these children again.
i hate that these two weeks of holidays will exhaust me further. That I am required to pace myself to fit in three assignments as well as find time to take a couple of these kids out, to organise a team meeting for the volunteers involved and to prepare myself for the three weeks of full-time practicum placement at a brilliant childcare and establish my etsy (and hopefully also a source of income).

The to-do list for monday (today) alone has left me winded and achy eyed.
Funny how the desires we strive for leave us wondering how much we actually have within ourselves to accomplish. But I know, these dreams are too big for me alone, I'm just yet to realise the team I'm to work alongside.

SO CMON!
I'm about to have my world rocked and you're going to be jealous!
LET ME HAVE IT.
wahahaha! this will either kill me or prove that my God is the God of the impossible. The key is to have completed all these things with smiles and laughter, through trial and error.
So the joy of the Lord is my strength and the joy of the Lord is not circumstantial, so HOW HARD CAN IT BE?

ps: I read an article on divorce and I think it's quite possibly worse than murder. I'd rather die than ever get a divorce...but that's another story (and no, I don't plan on marrying a dishonest or psychopath or gangland or abusive husband).

hmm...marriage...
i met two stunning women the other day who both married at age twenty. i'm twenty. i've never fallen in love. sort of makes me wonder...

the real, the hurting, the ever there and inconsistently apparent: love.

2009-09-13T22:54:00.003+10:00

years ago i made a pact with two dearly beloveds that i was tonight reminded of. so overwhelming was the memory of repetitive promise (that this one year of somewhat lack of emphasis had dammed up) that i couldn't decide why i was crying. whether because it was of what i had had, what i had missed, the reality of that promise or the reassurance of them there or the unveiling of accumulated hurt or remembered appreciation- i don't know. tonight quite possibly touched all of these. but i've been freshly reacquainted with friends. the real-est friends i ever knew and hardly gave deserved mention to.

i will always care for you, even if caring does and will continue to hurt.

ps: i have never worn a dress as short as the one i wore yesternight. my company assured me it was hardly as short or noticeable as the other girls' whose were shorter still. Though I'd hardly call that a justification and hope never to do so again. Hoping you won't judge me if ever you glisp a still-frame of that night.

between you and me

2009-09-10T00:16:00.004+10:00

I'm going to be pretty on saturday. I've already told myself and I'm half excited, half afraid of what I'm getting myself into. I haven't partied in ages. I actually don't really know how to. Well I do, I go off my nut with excitement (no influences needed), but the looking pretty part. I'm torn because I really wanna look the part- I love the persona's we attach to dress up parties, I love the realm of pretending. But the make-up and the unbecoming dress of a tempestuous character...I just need to make sure that the people who know me don't see me. I'm kidding! I won't be a trash of a lady! In fact I'll do my part to be as sophisticated glamorous as I can. Though the face requires a fair edit. So, on saturday, I'm going to be a 1920's flapper gal. Surprised? I'm too shy to ask for help with make-up so I've gone through a gossip mag and cut out 14 pairs of eyes that I like and I'll have hopefully accumulated enough willpower and coordination to not destroy my face come that eventful evening.

For those who know me well and as the tom-boy who doesn't wear make-up (opposes it in fact), don't despair. I'm not turning into a cake-face frequent girly girl. It's sort of the once off. It's the curiousity and the "when nobody's looking I do actually wonder what I'd look like if I knew how to wear make-up".

Then at mid-night, much like Cinderella, I and my posse flee the venue before the mazda is reduced to a watermelon and my party euphoria ravished by Father. Also, this is my first time as designated driver! Oh, let the childish excitement of responsibility zip through me! YEAH YEAH YEAH! party farty me! But this is all between you and I.

my uncomforts

2009-09-04T21:31:00.004+10:00

i want to vomit but i have nothing to vomit

i want to sleep but i have no time for it

i want the comforts of last week, yet do not live in regret or the past

El Shaddai, I am ever wanting - you are at the top of that list.

I keep telling myself this life is but a breath - so the uncomforts hardly shadow eternity.

but.
a.
breath.

God made maths so humanity would agree on at least one thing.

2009-08-31T10:16:00.005+10:00

I am aware that sometimes I swing a little far right and then a little far left, and somehow via trial and error, I find the balance...usually. Or what sometimes appears as compromise, which arguably cheapens both "extreme" beliefs. Or makes peace with.

There are so little correct answers in life, except in maths, which is why I like math. because I can know if I'm right or not and know that there is an absolute truth in calculations.

Maths and God. The only two truths that I think I'll categorise as concrete for the entirety of my life. Perhaps when I grow up, I'll be a godly mathematician, after all, I've always fancy absolutes.

i'm an alien.

2009-08-29T20:08:00.005+10:00

after dropping suz off at work at chaddy, i thought it worthwhile perusing the first batch of fresh renovations, also keeping an eye on casual vacancies in certain windows interspersed throughout the centre.

i exited totally horrified.

somehow my own reflection thrown back at me from shop windows was distorted and ugly enough. as my pace quickened, i wanted just to be invisible because of the increasing insecurity that began gnawing at my sanity. i think the safest few seconds i felt was when i visited andy at the apple store and although he was too busy, he smiled at me and i felt a little less disgusting; and when i farewelled suz and she sent a hearty "hey" with added smile my way, she too was too busy to afford me any conversation afterward. walking out, i sighed relief all the 50metres to the car, appreciating the breeze of the 3rd last winter day- thanking the outdoors for freedom from an intoxicated and greedy bubble bought with invisible money on plastic cards.

i think my accidental detox from big centres of considerable dollar value had my little exploration come like culture shock to me. i'm too poor to appreciate these now. i'm a little bit hypocrite because i still have urges to spend, though none exceeding the five dollar per item mark. i suppose my imagination made up the masses of people swirling around me with greedily glazed eyes only focused on what next to buy. i honestly felt that if i were to stay more than three hours in the place, i too would've been hypnotised by the deception that spending money and spending money with friends and family was the purpose to life.

there's a high chance i'm being an idiot or that the paranoia of sleep deprevation is consuming me.

but i'm pretty sure the place reeked of greed. i used to live like that. now i wonder what stink i would've produced, working only to accumulate enough for that "other thing" which i apparently needed so badly. i've been desensitised so long.

i have a moral delemma. i have no money and therefore need a job to support myself as it's unfair for my parents to continue providing for me when i'm twenty years old because i have expenses i committed myself to which i would irresponsibly fail to meet if not for my gracious parents. however, after this afternoon, i don't want to go back. i don't want to work in that sort of environment. eighty percent of the sales assistants in the stores i walked into thought they were better than me - i know because their smiles were plastic and their inquiries, insincere.
the shop i wouldn't mind working at is oxfam - it being fairtrade and all.

anyway - i don't want to work in retail very much anymore. i want willingly to break my ties with consumerism, materialism and all things superficial. God, save me from this.

God,
save me from this.
Amen.

growing pains

2009-08-29T20:02:00.002+10:00

I can't do this alone. But then again, I'm just passing through here...

And God permitting, we will do so. Hebrews6:3

2009-08-22T13:07:00.005+10:00

It's one something pm in the afternoon and I feel heavy. So much more utterly exhausted than I remember being excited at the beginning of this week. The hardest stone to swallow is to acknowledge that although I feel like I've worked myself to no end with non-stop this and that's, when looking at the fruits of my labour, they are small...oh so very small. Looking out at the square mile of land I know needs toiling and digging and planting and watering and singing and loving is paralysing. I cannot wait till tomorrow- I might finally, the for first time, personally appreciate the Sabbath. That lovely day of rest I never understood was necessary. I don't even deserve it. I haven't created a whole new world full with incredible creatures and self-sustaining life forms in the past six days. I just want to crawl into the hug of an Almighty God, who could replenish my dry stamina with hope, purpose and love...so much love. I had forgotten how much loving people uses of your own when you forget you thirst for it to be returned. My throat is dry and my eyes are dark. But it's only been a week. I can't believe I'm this weak.

i can't decide what i feel.

2009-08-22T01:47:00.004+10:00

The days, of late, have been gaining weight.

Not the sort of unwanted weight that girls exclaim as they examine their thighs. But the sort of weight that burns as you wake up with DOMS from a previous night of extreme exercise. Like the weight of urgency and the need to not waste time anymore. The exhaustion of productivity and the challenge to extend stamina. The discovery of efficiency and the want to be useful, knowledgeable and influential.

I heard the most beautiful acapella this afternoon on the radio. It was like...the wisp of a hearty and delightful aroma, warming and enticing...and unknown. Oh, what I'd give to learn of the song. I can't even recall any such lyrics. All I know is it was on Radio Eastern 98.1 FM about 12:30/1ish. Yes. It created the perfect condition with sunshine streaming in the window as I drove my shoddy little red, feeling all my cares evaporate, for as long as the 2 minutes song would free me.

I miss 70% of my friends. Because I hardly see them anymore. But I'm loving my new found freedom-purpose-productiveness. Sadly the two sort of collide.

I'll balance them later and sleep for now.

she's so highhh, high above me, she's so lovely

2009-08-15T09:12:00.001+10:00

my best friend is stunning.

Why can't I be beautiful like her? MY MOH.

cost.

2009-08-13T22:53:00.003+10:00

Unbeknownst to me, you gave everything I couldn't imagine,

when I couldn't give a damn.

from thought to type

2009-08-07T12:24:00.007+10:00

I think I'm the biggest critic when it comes to the love between a man and a woman.

I'm also terrified of what on earth is happening everywhere around me. Such a deep sorrow has burrowed and made my heart it's home. I don't understand why. But pangs of heartbreak come in bouts every few days, sometimes at church, sometime when I'm alone. But I'm so afraid. Right now, I'm so afraid and disgustingly vulnerable. But when I feel my tear ducts well with salty water, I remember my children, whom I don't know very well. I think I'd die if something happened to any of them just because I forgot to care the past few months.

It's not good enough. My excuses, your excuses. It's not good enough. Because people are holding onto you. Because people rely on you. Because somewhere, somehow you proved you could be trusted, and someone sometime decided to hope in you, to believe in you and to give a little bit of themselves to you, for you to protect. So protect it with all you have! Because you have parts of your friends that will be destroyed if you are. You need to preserve the love, the hope, the joy that you have. You need to fight harder.

I need to live on behalf of the few friends of mine who are dying.

Somewhere in the only book I can trust, somebody wrote: Perfect love drives out all fear.
I cannot be afraid anymore. I don't have reason to. I am loved in perfect amounts. Peace.

return of the prodigal

2009-07-29T09:52:00.002+10:00

One Republic wrote a song called Prodigal, I think it colours in the outline of my headspace brilliantly. I've been away and disconnected for a little, I can't even categorise, let alone remember in comprehensive sequence what on earth has happened since the last while - I don't even know how long it went for, only that I pray it is over. It wasn't bad, whatever it was, I just don't appreciate the fog of uncertainty and the chaos of not understanding.

Oh, a friend of mine has disappeared to Japan to begin to do the things he dreamed of...he'll be gone indefinitely. He is the strangest character, almost; and one so very rare. He is also the closest thing to loss I know. I have never lost a friend to another country for more than a few months, nor death - thank God. But now, I have a friend, close enough, to now experience missing on a consistent basis. It hasn't even been a week and I crave his company. I spent near to everyday of the last week seeing him, and now have at least another couple of years til reunion.

I also have little to amuse you with, dear reader. I have minimal fruit in which to juice inspiration from, I think this little while will be for me to observe, rather than narrate. But then again, I've said this before.

My friends are changing, my family is changing, as both individuals and as a collective, respectively.
There is no doubt in my mind that I will also.
I say with cringe that my world is about to change.

Today, I crashed

2009-07-24T00:20:00.002+10:00

It was probably as good a day as any to crash a car. I crashed our 10year old family car at midday due to driver’s error and illegal activity. Yes... I confess with much shame: I was on my mobile phone. I think I’m just thankful as heck that my carelessness caused no harm to anybody else. I hit a pole. Did you laugh? Did you smirk? I don’t blame you. My carelessness has been a good lesson, sort of one of those occasions we speak of being “only being a matter of time”. What scares me is the curiousity had I not had to face the error of my ways today, if my sliver of conviction regarding the matter would have completely evaporated...

There’s something about the injuring of machines bigger and stronger than you that gently reminds us that being human is no guarantee of invincibility. There. It took about 3 seconds for my eyes to float to my bar of radiation (and for my left over high from the previous night of absolute euphoria) to shrivel like oysters in summer’s sun.

At the time I didn’t think I was so affected. I like to think of myself as a rather resilient and collected character. So I didn’t know how to categorise my emotions or how to recognise most of the symptoms of fear, especially as I wouldn’t usually consider them relevant hours after the incident. Because the fortunate and sheltered life of a middle-upper, living-with-parents twenty-year-old, faces minimal traumatic experiences. And this, this was small. This was no more than the excess of $900 and a week without one of four cars. I saw no casualties, I felt no pain. I only suffering the complaint that the few friends I turned to for emotional comfort/support had reason or another to... not provide sufficient shoulder. But it’s nothing I haven’t already begun to heal and forget. Every little bruise we home on the stretch of our skin fades and is forgotten, because we shed our old skin, little at a time. And forgiveness makes us stronger. I just hope I am a more discerning and understanding friend – though if I'm not, it's no surprise.

If I do have readers on this here canvas of white internet space, they are most probably my friends or people I know who are, likewise: fortunate, sheltered, middle-upper twenty-year-olds.

I want all of you not to use or even pay attention to your phones while driving, it’s dangerous. Secondly, appreciate life on my behalf. Today, I crashed, felt much more sober than I did yesterday; and as vulnerable as any human could, when realising their skins are weaker than composite metals, glass and rubber molds.

i love my God

2009-07-19T23:36:00.004+10:00

i actually just want to sleep.
Because today was much emotional and spiritual- sprouted from little anticipation, expectation and a reluctant waking. nonsensical reasoning and lack of fluidity. tired eyes from an hour of despair and chaos and &lazy letters, missing Capitals.

the morrow brings me no hope of securing money wise. all my shifts were cancelled, save the first- which thankfully cannot be undone. but i am somewhat secure of my...self. though my body continues reacting to my torturous mutilation via junk food and fitness ban; and my positioning with different friends becomes confused. i am momentarily steady, and beautifully satisfied...and my both rich and poorness challenges the way in which i think, buy, habitual, nothing and everything.

the less sense i make tonight i intend to justify in dreams.
The night is good.

belonging.

2009-07-10T11:18:00.006+10:00

She had lately cut down contact with half of her friends because she was confusing everyone. Now things were a little clearer, a little simpler, a little less. Now, the denial that she used to shield herself with was fast deteriorating. Her comfort circle were 2 hours and a weekend away and she was arguably alone. So, she turned up the music and danced. Her pen gliding on gingerly lined empty pages. Her lens freezing the portrait of sunlight's neglect upon her neighbourhood.

Meanwhile, the delicate pages of a historic love story called her to let go of loneliness' hand. There was only purposefulness (or lack thereof) between victory and depression. The sad song, lamented beautifully on repeat- singing hinting harmonies "...with you is where I belong"; repeatedly pressing onto memories of previous strengths, nudging her to step into puddles of courage and feel the relief of balance, of supported position, of identity.

I belong to you.
I know.
I do.

I know too well the deception of my circumstance and it's hallucination of incompleteness (I just forget). I also know that others fall victim to this loneliness and its related depression all too frequently. So I'll do what I can to counter it. I am not helpless. I am not. I belong, and you do too.

"Back off loneliness and, hello tenderness. I've been waiting for your call..."
If it rains, it is for you to dance to. If the sun shines, it is for you to bask in.
If neither, the weather was shy because you are beautiful.

strength unseen

2009-07-08T15:42:00.005+10:00

There are multitudes of girls/women/children/people i know who face terrors daily; pain I could never imagine.

But you'd never hear it in their voice, you'd never see it in their eyes. You'd never know from their laughter that they endure growing up without a father, because a few years ago, he was the taken by tragedy.

So instead of being heartbroken, be inspired.

Rather than sympathising, learn and support, give and encourage.

They give me reason.

They smile and I can't resist.

You beauties.

my wholegrain jerk & a pinch of salt.

2009-07-06T01:29:00.005+10:00

It's funny how things change. I never saw it coming. The guy who used to call me his favourite girl and spoil me with compliments of beauty, now can't stand the thought of me...or so it seems. I thought the last conversation we had put to rest this indignified venom that poisoned one of my best friends...or me. In anycase, we're nearly illergic to each other now.

I tried tonight. I was trying to ask (subtly and cautiously), if we could see each other this weekend, but the words stopped in my throat as his attack tore my initiative to shreds. I don't think he realised I was actually willing to say back, although everyone was going on a roadtrip because there was a chance we could have coffee or the like. I don't want to go to the roadtrip because I don't want to ruin it for him. I think he'd do better without me threatening his enjoyment. I don't think I realised before what an immature twerp he was; you are a jerk, but I love you nonetheless. I suppose you always had the potential, you always told me stories of the girls you mistreated, but I was never one of them. How the tide has turned!

Don't worry about me (not that I expect you to ever, again), I take you're insults with a grain of salt, I'll become immune to your poison - because that's how it works...one could only hope.

prevent, cure, belong.

2009-06-26T23:52:00.009+10:00

An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

This song is sad. It is beautifully sad, perfectly heartbreaking - resolved by a known incompleteness.

I cannot relate - thank God. But it still makes me sad. I wish to tell you though, that if you didn't loose yourself in the heartbreak of humanity's [sadly frequent] wear&tear, that we'd find somewhere to belong. We will. At least find somewhere, if not create somewhere.

I think... I've just fleshed out the cause I've been irked by because of its blurred identification of, until now.
For a little while lately, I've wanted to do something - to be worth my weight in golden comfort to a devastated and broken world. But I wasn't able to remodel "world peace" into my own words; which I honestly believe you cannot act upon until you've struck the chord in your heart that pains you enough to do/fight/protect accordingly.

So, lets just begin with the rough copy: To build/create/establish a place where the world of misfits (namely, the entire world) could belong, where insecurities could be eradicated by a love, an acceptance, and a scaffold of strengths built upon from learning from peer lovers. Because we are all lovers- we all love. Some: easily, others: exclusively.

Yes, I want to build a house of cure, because usually it is too late to prevent. If generations of resilience are not birthed now - they will never be, since we are as we are taught and imitate examples of those before us. Resilience cannot be out bred - or the world will collapse into suicidal, self-loathing and pity-partying prima donnas.
Smile, love. Smile. It ain't all bad. We'll begin this belonging. You and I...now.

You're exactly what the world needs right now. You and your smile.

"I love you." Thank you, thank you, for reading, for daring to hope, for loving and for being mine. A friend to call mine. Something more than a stranger, and that - that is enough. One could only hope I don't forget the beauty you've introduced to me, in my frequent bouts of self-inflicted depression. I want this to last. I want to be over and done with myself. I want to help you. I want to be a child of resilience.

The beginning. A hope. You.

assured

2009-06-25T00:19:00.004+10:00

Call me crazy or arrogant, but I am confident in the happy ending, or one quite contented. The finale of this season is not drenched in tragedy, however strange, it is not all gloom. Thank you, my friend, the director, for giving ear - and whether intentionally or not, rewriting the ending.

the scene played out well and truly sorrowful

2009-06-24T14:07:00.003+10:00

My friend, the director, wrote a script to which I cried to.
It wasn't the sort of play that evoked much response at the time or in the beginning. It was cunning though, so that after walking away and having the weight of the wordless script slowing digested, the cold of the main character's temperament caused the deepest anguish. It is, however, still to be continued, and there's a chance it all might end well. Oh God, I hope this ends well.

a lone stranger

2009-06-22T17:59:00.008+10:00

Today I went on an adventure that I would probably categorise into three separate adventures. All were miserable.

Because I went on them alone.

They say hungry dogs fight harder. I believe I have, of late, since Saturday. But it is as if my state of mind has been dislocated, sort of, so that a slight shift in thought sends spiteful jolts to remind me of pain; interrupting a once ordinary and usually carefree thought pattern. But I'm trying to re-lodge it, though it throbs and threatens like every man's worst fear. This unwelcome paranoia and sadness should not devour me much longer.

I have a plan.
I also have a new haircut (for the first time in 15months)
I try not to look at my reflections too frequently, lest I become self-absorbed in the incomplete perception I have of myself. Hair is hair! Merely dead cells we resource as an extension of our vanity!

What scares me most is the reveal of my actual self- not the physical. God forbid I become ugly via character alone: some selfish creature of distasteful vanity.

My hair? Nothing.

won't be long until it's nothing.

2009-06-20T11:01:00.004+10:00

You have a tendency to infuriate me.
I doubt you understand.
Yet thoughts about your progress, curiously
Make their way into my land.
I didn't think it'd be me wanting you first. All the best, Musicman.
(I fall too quickly, but I get up just the same.)

courage, my love.

2009-06-15T19:05:00.005+10:00

Bravery is something I'm finding really hard to come by. It's not aided by the fact that I have the perseverance of toothpick. But I don't have anyone to be brave for me, that's why I've never been in a relationship, that's why I never will be- until I've laid my own concrete, until I'm strong enough alone.
Romans15:13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with joy by the power of the Holy Spirit. As feeble as my voice projects this, the truth of it is like a string of diamonds. Saying it over and over, only builds the familiarity of it, until it's etched somewhere convenient.

I'll get through.
As will you.

a note to my invisible readers (if indeed I have any).

2009-06-15T13:03:00.005+10:00

It seems negligence has befallen this here canvas. My words have a new container. Not that I endorse the "in with the new, out with the old" paradigm. I like old things, believe me! I think the old establishes a perimeter within which the new is born. But I feel I owe you explanation to why my writings have been scribbled on the new page rather than here. I think it's because the new one is now "open to public" as such (as is this one for those who explore). I have "hidden"myself and vulnerabilities since...forever (or 2005), revealing only to you few who knew this address - usually in riddles and choked sobs, hardly comprehensible. But this urgency to make things known and to do so with fervour has recently infected me. I don't think I have very much time anymore. Sort of like the realisation that I'm dying, because beautifully and thankfully, I am; and the only way to counter this sorrow of deteriorating flesh is to liberate the spirit, and live...just live in the remembrance of love. I like remembering that tomorrow is no promise, because it is a more awkward but solid truth than the assumption of forever. Anyway, my thoughts are not as intimate on the new one, I'll save my deepest sorrows for here. There is no obligation for you to follow both, wahaha, no obligation for you to follow either, I just thought it'd be polite to let you know.

I always hoped to change people with my words (edified by my actions). Because words carry meaning and I want the discovery of mine to influence the lives of- heck, everyone. I don't want to be a mouthful of idle words. I really, truly want to make people question the why's and how's of life. This whole "Christianity thing" is making me reconsider my lukewarm lifestyle.

I stumbled upon a verse that convicted me to the bone this morning, allow me to share:
it is description of one of the kings of Judah:
Amaziah was twenty-five years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem twenty-nine years. His mother's name was Jehoaddin; she was from Jerusalem. He did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, but not wholeheartedly. 2Chronicles24:1&2. Read on to learn of his demise.

It's verse two that gripped me, because when I read it, I knew it was describing...me.

Oh yes, so this morning's restless reading reiterated yesterday's Sunday school's verse, which I explained to kids in grade 3 and 4. Since we live by the Spirit, keep in step with the Spirit. Galations5:25. Easy as pie right? Condition yourself to enjoy humble pie sister, or the words you produce will shame you.

Oh God, yes, promises.

2009-06-09T16:28:00.001+10:00

what does it come to?

2009-06-09T15:38:00.003+10:00

Hello
hello
hello
hello

hello.

What does it mean? what I've done, what I've failed to do?

Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop.

2009-06-09T15:09:00.002+10:00

oh yes, I forgot to ask.
Do you like what I did to the place? I think its looks a little further from conservative and a little more like freedom.
I feel a bout of pride coming on- careful. I like it new...how about you?

I have a monotonous habit of making friends awkward.

2009-06-09T14:14:00.003+10:00

My paranoia is annoying. You probably think I'm full of myself, but I'm actually pertrified.

I enjoy your company. But if lines are going to be blurred or intentions confused, I suppose I'll just have to not see you for a little while- I was really looking forward to the next occassion too. I don't like being uncomfortable and it happens so incessantly once mentioned, so I won't mention anything. Ugh. Regardless, you're fantastic and your pool of talent is flooding. It's flooding! Just don't drown yourself in it.

Love.

Coward learns to stand.

2009-06-08T12:49:00.006+10:00

Face them, you coward. Meet them on the road. Fight them off and don't even let them near. Or just lie down and die because you let them poison you every time you allow them entry to your house. They're coming for me: Mediocrity and Melancholy.

Love. Come. Protect me.

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honour one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God's people who are in need. ROMANS 12:9-13

2009-06-07T14:06:00.002+10:00

The roses were red
The skies were blue
Til winter rolled in
Now what will you do?

2009-06-02T14:47:00.002+10:00

Here's a sobering comment from a distant friend of mine:

"Is the darkness really all that beautiful?"

No, not when you put it like that. I mean, yes there are elements of mystery and a curious infatuation about hiding, about the secrets swallowed by darkness. But there is also a stunning and undoubtedly attractive nature of love in light. Something loudly unashamed and with total disregard for previous insecurities; as if the fears of the past were mercilessly silenced. When the only fears you have are for the ones you are trying to protect, to save, to love, and none concerning your own well being, that's truly noble. That's beauty and that's what I want to be - that sort of beautiful. But maybe later, I heard it's a long and narrow road of many thorns to selflessness (also referred to as: unconditional love). I also heard it's littered with inconvenient searches for courage and forgiveness, not to mention the tiresomely constant communications required to be kept with Superior. I don't have time for that. Maybe later.

Habitual Liar.

2009-06-01T13:30:00.004+10:00

What if meaning was worn thin by the excess use of the word it was captured in? What if the words were spoken habitually and somehow, somehow it was only spoken and not meant. What if loving you was now an option and not a commitment? What if I was lying when I told you I did? What if it hurts?

Because I was the only one who said it - who still does. You though, were cunning enough not to contract yourself by your words. But not I, not I. I said them boldly, I said them because each day I said them might have been my last, but I live on, though half the time I wish I didn't.

"Tough times don't last, tough people do."
It's true.

I don't want it to be a lie. I don't want to be the habitual liar. I want to be bigger than this downward spiralling world. I want to be victorious and laugh in the face of adversity. I want not to be slave to my flesh but like those trick birthday candles which don't blow out nearly as easily as any others.

I want to prove to you that good does exist. I want to prove it to myself...because true and solid good seemed only in the beginning chapters of the bible as God described the world before sin.

What I have is good, though what I am is not. This love was given unconditionally to me though my unfaithfulness was foreseen before my existence; therefore hurts dealt my way are incomparable in the slightest.

I love you.
Smile.Breathe.Laugh.Live.Gargle.Swallow.

Strangely satisfying solitary.

2009-05-29T00:04:00.008+10:00

The last person I called was Millie because I enjoy his company and he's in the neighbourhood and I barely see him enough. He said he had plans, so I dismissed it and gave up asking anybody else out. Ten minutes later he calls back saying plans were cancelled so I proposed a movie - conveniently enough neither of us had seen Wolverine and the last viewing for Thursday 28th May was 9:40pm. It was 9:20pm when we decided. So I switched off the laptop and left the house. Five minutes after the call and a few seconds after I had left the house, he calls saying that plans might be back on again and that he'd call me back in three. I keep driving, very set on watching a movie with or without company. Four minutes later he calls and with guilty tone admits he cannot accompany me, which I feel no disappointment about; it was 50/50 either way.

I arrive at knox at 9:41pm and walk briskly past the stirring bars and deep throbbing rnb, it is the beginning of another night, another party. I smile at the non-existent line once within the refuge of a largely deserted waiting space. The girl behind the counter calls me to her. A quick, pleasant exchange of a ten dollar note for a dollar coin, a ticket, a receipt and a snack bar combo's voucher had me feeling this was a good idea after all. I skip the steps two by two and walk up to the ticket-ripping pulpit to find a teenage boy kneeling behind it tying a clear plastic bag of ticket stubs to throw out I assumed. I rip my ticket (as usual) and ask him which half he wanted, he took the shorter one - he was being generous.

I walk the hallway of large, numbered double doors, to Cinema 6 and slide into my seat amongst the middle seats in the back row. There was an empty between another couple and myself but after 2 minutes of indecisiveness I moved myself a row down and a little to the left, one space away from another couple of guys. The back row two chatted and I didn't want to be distracted, I'm pretty sure they knew I moved because of them. Oh yes! I was glad of my timing in arrival because advertisements had just finished and I managed to enjoy the roll of a handful of interesting looking movies trailers.

Anyway.
The movie happened.

I was so engrossed the entire time! Compelled and gripped by the action and the apparent pain that played out on this large window into another world. I lost myself in it all and felt much, much better. I think the last movie I watched was about three months ago. I don't watch in cinemas an awful lot. The last was He's just not that into you, and the one before it, Rock'n'rolla. I think all the movies I've watched this year have been largely rewarding, enjoyable, few and far between; making the experiences rare and bolder than routine.

So the credits roll and I let the orchestra build up the final song and crash freshly onto me like waves on a windy summer night. I was the last person left in the cinema (there were only nine or ten of us altogether).

Anyway, I loved it. I loved the movie. I loved the experience, there was nobody else to notice around me! I forgot myself and learned the "truth" concerning Wolverine.

A definite recommendation! Likewise I'd suggest watching a movie not freshly released but a little old, in the last "shift" of a weekday night (cept Tuesdays) ;)

2009-05-28T20:34:00.004+10:00

Could totally do with some company right now and somehow the inner circle (and some of the outer) are all occupied and I might, therefore just make up some excuse to watch a movie by myself. I'm going crazy. I hardly accept movie invitations because I don't understand spending money on these, but I've heard watching movies by one's self is an experience to be experienced and I need something now. I need. Something. I do have friends, I just can't find them right now. Oh God.

Sh*t happens. I hate that word: shit. I also hate when it happens.

2009-05-25T23:38:00.004+10:00

It seems I have a mouthful of ramble and a heart full of fake.
Ugh. Will it never end? These reflections of my imperfections are a never ending story, and these repeated episodes make me sick. I am grateful that you love eternally and that you are an infinite being...because only you could love me having known me completely.

By the way, Love. I love how you did Autumn, I was on a high for hours! I really appreciate the display you made with the leaves: dried, dead and crisply so, but it made me so alive! It was stunning and thank you! It was bliss! I loved it. Autumn means ecstacy! Thank you again! I love you!

Lady Macbeth

2009-05-24T00:10:00.005+10:00

So it's funny, and/or ironic or utterly heartbreaking, whichever you deem most suitable... Our insecurities dictate the extent to which we are self-centred. It scares me that the more I doubt about myself, the more time I spend making myself better, or trying to. I would liken my struggles and attempts to fix them as cumbersome as having cut and bleeding fingers and trying dryly to attend to myself and bandage my own. It becomes a pathetic and stupid plight where the wounds we try to heal are the same pains making it impossibly inconvenient to self bandage.

Strategy seems to be lacking whenever it comes to dealing with ourselves. Because we try to do it in the dark. Or I do. So that when I'm in public light there are no scratches or bruises or severed parts of me; there are minimal imperfections and less to be judged by. I've recently been horrified by an epiphany of how addicted I am to myself.

Everything is about: me.

I naively believed that because I was becoming increasingly insecure, the reasons to be self-absorbed would be inversely so. Apparently not. The more streaks of imperfection I would find on my skin, the more I would try to scrub it off with a ferocious focus that ensures my eyes hardly stray from that which disgusts me. Likewise, I suppose, was the case with Lady Macbeth, whose hands seemed never clean of the blood shed by them (remember how it drove her mad? I want not to suffer the same fate, yet find myself halfway there). Little did I know that my hands also were stained, and trying to clean dirty skin with dirty hands makes for a very unsuccessful, exhausting activity.

I love that my Savior, my lover, my creator wants this tiresome job and simply asks (over and over) for me to relinquish the ownership and whatever of wanting perfection, because he achieves better results via majestic methods.

There will be no end to this- save Kingdom Come- til then, allow yourself to be scrubbed frequently!

2009-05-23T23:47:00.003+10:00

i want a lot of things and one of them lately is just to be good enough.
to look it, to sound it, to act it, to be worth my 56.5kg weight in gold. i want to be better than i am.

I need to be better than I am.

Three to be envied.

2009-05-20T17:16:00.002+10:00

I met the boys down the block. They meet often, as will I from hereon in. The home we all congregate at also houses 3 mustangs, a boat and apparently spray paint of every colour. Their obsession with cars is amusing. Their immaturity in speech, thoughts aloud and pranks well veil the depth of them (if there is any). I like them. They accepted me almost immediately. I'm now the neighbourhood girl, quite protected and feeling acquainted with the "cool". Now I join them on collapsible chairs outside the open garage, basking in the pride of a racing mustang (I revelled in it).
They maintain questionable lifestyles of which I hope to have them questioning...eventually.
Everyday drinking, weekends getting stoned and/or clubbing, tearing up roads, late-night partying, cussing and "appreciating" parents in the most insulting of methods, to name a few. I told them I was going to bring them to church day two of meeting them.

Anyway, these are my new friends. The way I see it is them as kind of like coarse giants who sort of poke fun at but ultimately protect a smaller person who will in turn prove more helpful and supportive than they imagined. The new company I've been meeting lately have been relieving yet dark in the way dark humour is. I so wager I will (after having known these guys) have had opportunity to go wake-boarding, learn the world of cars, ride in a mustang (or three), go to a race, witness hilarious pranks & idiotic stunts and become familiar with the scent of weed...not to mention becoming desensitised to the foul mannerisms of perversed boys. They are no boring crowd, you can't deny me that!

So watch from the beginning and tell me if you notice changes.

Because I know, even though they boast of shallow temperaments, they yearn for more, for intimacy, for love that knows them deeper than their most embarrassing moments. I want to introduce them to one who does.

A new air in this wind.

2009-05-17T23:42:00.006+10:00

Something happened this weekend.

Something ugly was unturned, exposed and able to be "treated".
Hopefully I won't need to explain because you'll see the difference almost immediately.

Love.

On a separate note, I've read the first two chapters of the book you gave me, Golden Girl. I like it. Thank you! You're one who gives, and you remind me of generosity, of giving, of gentleness, of God. Be blessed and know that your actual beautiful surpasses your self-portrait. It may be a while til I see you again, as it seems there are at least months and usually years between our meetings, but I cannot disregard you and am glad for our mutual standing. I am inspired by your convictions and actions. You've been blessing to me, my literacy-rich, fellow lover of the second hand! You are golden, dear girl.

2009-05-15T18:28:00.006+10:00

She repeated it over and over.
"I'm independent. I make my own way"

But this time, this time she could barely withstand the misery she put herself through. This facade she had worn so often was wearing away and cracks into her reality, exposed by circumstance, had become disturbingly clear. She wasn't very independent, although she was more than most. She made her own way thanks only to the shared driving force of pride, lack of trust and/or fear of exposure. But this latest abandonment (of the most casual kind), combined with fatigue and disappointment from a night of expected euphoria, had her exhausting plastic smiles and conversation until finally joy was only something imagined and for the moment, forgotten. She further obliged herself to be in the company of two boys of relative age whose thought processes both amused and annoyed her. She recalled also the boys of the previous night she had met, who in her opinion had the politics of 16 year old girls.

It always seemed she was a head above the rest.

But to the point. Apparently this independent, self-paving way maker of a girl could not deny loneliness. She feared rejection because she dealt it so effortlessly and assumed it to be dealt in equal amounts by others. Her prejudices were, at its worse, a vessel for paranoia. But most of all, her insistence for isolation resulted in her present state of loneliness. She was harbouring every necessary ingredient for a subtly selfish life.

Honestly, I cannot believe she just revealed all of this.
I just hope she changes.
For all our sakes.

2009-05-05T12:25:00.001+10:00

Hey Sunshine,

you give me reason.

No?

2009-05-02T16:29:00.004+10:00

Does it make you wonder if there are such things as cheap friends?

And why, with the apathetic, inconsistent mannerisms they present to you, would you still call them friend and continue to care?

Because that's what love believes. Love believes that love need not be returned, and that these expressions we desire are only preferable, not essential, for love to be true.

Because when I was/am the apathetic, inconsistent one, my God never stopped/stops loving me.

Because when I decided to make you a friend, I told myself I'd actually care and actually try.

So that's what I'll actually do,

or try to.

Quota.

2009-04-27T18:27:00.002+10:00

To provoke/cause/stimulate/incite:
7 smiles
10 laughs
4 decent, meaningful conversations

via at least:
1 love-note
2 phone calls
14 compliments (ave. 2/day)
7 sms' (ave. 1/day)
5 jokes (clean and unslandering..hello google)

One of the boys.

2009-04-26T01:27:00.006+10:00

All the boys looked fantastic tonight. It's funny that nothing's the same yet this fact is: I am assured by the company of them...any or all of them.
Dearest boys (it seems strange to refer to you as men except for when I pray for you- incidentally not often or often enough), thank you for sculpting me into the strange child I am today. I value you all deeply and I know for a fact that if you were all impossibly compact into one, I would be head-over heels in love with you!

But your not and thus neither I.

From frustration to memory to purpose to hope

2009-04-21T22:22:00.004+10:00

It's just one of those "i'll make money when i create something that the world realises they can't live without while simultaneously curing myself of this ridiculous obsession with love and meanwhile stop favouring that one red-haired kid in my classroom because he reminds me of that somebody i could potentially fall in love with just because he's like no other i could relate to but would rather keep me at arm's length providing me with one more stranger to stop crushing because i have something to prove and the world to win in my efforts to gather selflessness from the odd crooks and crannies which renew my hope and revitalise my being remembering that i cannot live without my God because pathetic are us humans but i'll still learn to love ever so gradually under the cover of a faithful lover" sort of days.

Yes, one of them.

2009-04-19T01:24:00.002+10:00

what

doing

where

are

you

now

read me.

I wish it wasn't this bad... and sometimes I even wish wishing actually worked.

2009-04-18T23:32:00.002+10:00

JunkhouseDollyard.etsy.com

you're creativity inspires me

...quite literally!

2009-04-15T01:43:00.003+10:00

Dearest, this is the coldest I've ever felt towards you. No, I checked, I'm not angry, or upset, or frustrated...

It is as if we have come to the point where Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. Like this icy cool temperament that has plagued me from the outside finally found it's way into my unsuspecting heart. &. My, isn't it strangely satisfying! I feel like I could walk away from you and feel lighter.

These character swings are heightening. I swear I'm stable, yet these symptoms resemble schizophrenia. I'll be in tears in the next instance, probably guilt-ridden that I should even consider forgetting this friendship. Why am I refusing to remember the fact that my own pathetic natures have been burdens to my friends, my real friends.

Our 10 minute conversation was forced and dry, and for once, I just wanted to end it. And did.

I suppose I love you, still.
I will close my eyes, sleep, and wake up caring as usual, I presume. I hope.

She obsesses.

2009-04-13T12:11:00.007+10:00

I searched you,
as I heard your voice, I dissembled the words you spoke, the tone you spoke with, the dynamics of volume and expression in your voice and the fluidity of your rhythm. Using my understandings I deciphered the meaning, your meaning. Through the cord and in the frequency, I tried to find something, someone... you. So, in a bid to buy time for tracking down the unknowns I searched for, I kept you on the line. Lately, in most of my phone conversations are efforts to prolong conversations, with the other being the one to taper off and suggest leaving. This happened with all six people I called within the last 24 hours.

I feel like an explorer walking along borders of insanity. It appears I instill a fear upon those in my company, that I possess a strange obsession they prefer not to be apart of. But really, I just want to know you, I just want to know real people. Given the opportunity, I would dig deeper than people prefer because I'm ever so convinced that building friendships between utterly real people creates impossible bonds of incredible strength (with the accumulation of love, truer, and strangely real)! I like real. I've just about had it with my hallucinations of who people are, I barely know half of my friends. I will only say I know two halfs of all the people of my world. One: my sister, two: I call her my best friend. We try together, we hit dirt together. I only know half, I imagine the rest. Sometimes my make-belief's of friends veil the real them, because I, well, let my imagination run a little far, a little wild.

That, is one of the problems with me. My obsession with truth and my hunger to be informed scares mostly, everyone. Heck, it scares me! I think people are afraid I'll fall in love with them, that's not the intention, but to be honest, I'm insanely attracted to the truth, and knowing the real in people may just result in that, ugly as the truth may be.

Dearest reader, I've never fallen in love, but I fear I could, all too easily.
(However, with you, I'd never want to) At present, I seek truth and the realities of those who share no similar passions to me; of those who show little interest in my friendship with them. Because although I search for people to know and to fall in love with, I am uncomfortable with people knowing and falling in love with me. Oh, ain't she the perfect hypocrite! You may know too much, I might have to kill you.

Strange, I know.

sort of like paper cuts...

2009-04-11T23:50:00.004+10:00

At least 3 times on an ordinary day, I will experience an anxious frenzy about the location of my phone. On a bad day, this occurs most half hours to an hour or so (...I still manage to forget my phone on occasion however, quite frequently too).

This quick-fix anxiety, whether coincidentally or out of aggressive progression has evolved severely to a fear of misplaced friends.

Lately, I wonder where my friends are. I find myself patting my pockets and talking to the photos on my wall, asking their still-frozen representatives why the real thems aren't here with me. I am comforted tonight by Armani (the shark). I closed his stomach so that white stuffing no longer spews out of him. We are both pleased, and I think he looks much better, even if only by 4 safety pins. He knows the feeling. After all, he has been wondering where I am most of everyday for about two (and a third) months, hoping that I haven't forgotten my promise to fix him. I had, but remembered and finally did good on my word.

Similarly, as with my phone frenzy, I realise soon after that I haven't lost them, my friends. One very vital detail to appreciate is that friends can walk, phone's can't. Therefore, if I am suddenly without my friends, most of the time it ISN'T because I left them in the last shop, but because they chose to walk their way for a little. & that, is totally acceptable. I think I just wish I didn't have to re-realise this most second nights.

I have a solution.
You take the pains, as short or sharp as you may be frequented
and you feed it to your very own Resilience.
Yes, everyone has one.
Watch it grow, watch it grow! (I have much to feed mine)

The truth.

2009-04-11T13:04:00.002+10:00

i am "beloved" to a beautiful lover. i am. i am.

[if there was no eternity, if...there was no promise of forever with you... your love, has satisfied and continues to fuel every hope within me. i can live, fearlessly, now and/or forever. and i know forever exists, but if there wasn't, i wouldn't have chosen any other way. you're the only one who knows me, knows me full well. i know we will never be apart. But if, if it were only for this long, it would still have been worth it.]

love ya plenty, Stupid Chump.

2009-04-07T21:22:00.008+10:00

Don't go back there, I beg you.
Don't go back. Do not back track the way you fell.

We are not too different. We struggle the same in balancing the nature we know well from the one we know we should. Yesterday I succumbed to temptation, it nearly killed me. Today, I feel colder. It sucks you dry and leaves you barren. This is my fear, for you and I alike: that we become so consumed in our addictions we grind the joys that once strengthened us into a pathetic impossible pulp that we could never piece together again.

When you were stronger you said you'd never turn around.
Don't
close
off
now.

So then, resilience may be in different measures between us.
I do believe you have a little left.

If so...use it.

You make me want to prove to you how much further you can run when you have nothing apparent to run for, when nothing belongs to you, when everything you called "mine" is not whole or worth the mention. (I'm beginning to think you may be my motivation! If everytime I flew close to giving up, remembering you in this pathetic state gives me that little extra, to both fight for you and prove you idiotic)
So scream from the mountain when you've reached the top, or even from the valley to the height you know is rightfully yours. But do not become silent. Do not let your bones deteriorate into something timid, exhausted.

I can't afford for you to add to the number of dying on my watch. I mean it. I can't afford to let you go either, because then my word is rendered invalid. The word I spoke or wrote that I would be your friend, I am your friend, is true. The friend who throws around "I love you" aplenty, with the intention of those special three never loosing their meaning. Actually, in theory, as we grow, as we learn (as slowly as either may be) the definition of love should be greater, therefore the words I let leave my lips should be fuller. Because the longer love holds you, the tougher it's been, the uglier it's experienced, the more beautiful it becomes.

I will be as faithful as I know how... I just don't know how to very well.

MOVE! (I say it with love!)

Believing, in black and white.

2009-04-04T21:48:00.009+11:00

I meant what I said when I said "regardless". I just forget sometimes that I said it. Much to my relief, you remember your promises to me more than I, you (not that I should be justified, just assured through my failings).

So when my worth, in the sense I used to measure it by, suddenly falls to pieces, I am left just with you. Anyway, we never measured the same. Your scales drastically surpassed mine, always. When my mess is at my feet and I can't see a clear space to stand in, there is still you. I've forgotten what it was like to have just you.

So what if I loose the attention; if my face becomes disfigured; if my speech becomes stutter; if I loose my wit; if I never make anyone laugh again; if I am undesirable to employ; if I am undesirable for company; if I cannot dance; if I am infertile; if sound, smell, touch, sight and taste all blur into a grey deadpan; if my writing becomes disorganised words making readers cringe; if it never rains; if the sun never smiles; if my sister never talks to me; if my friends are disgusted in me; if I am never trusted again; if I let down the children; if I become responsible for something horrid; if my rights are taken from me; if I am never admired, never thought of as genuinely beautiful; if I am never told the truth; if the words "I love you" never grace me again; if my input is always discarded; if I am to be forever alone; if I am surrounded in only suffering; if I am helpless to everyone needing help; if everything I touch turns to dust and becomes ugly; if I lose everything...so what! So what if I become a negative? You said you'd love me regardless. My life is more than the worse-case scenario. You have more for me to do here, something wonderfully productive. My insecurities pale before you.

You said you'd never leave me nor forsake me. I believe you. I believe your word. I believe your love. I believe you.

Strength like no other. Shield me, Love, I am a little pathetic. Thank you for holding me together.

I can breathe again. Your truth is the breath of cool, fresh air rescuing me from the intoxicating lies I let suffocate me.

I never believed it would happen to me.

2009-04-04T14:53:00.005+11:00

My surface worse fear (aside from loosing loved ones, being infertile, unable to dance, laugh, hear, see or remember) would be an inability to write. Not in the physical sense of holding a pen and flicking symbols into arranged rows or columns, but for me to loose the rhythm of my thought. If I were unable to construct and/or express the meaning of myself, all inclusive, I might just fall to pieces...

and I fear this here is in progress. Why can't I write this out? Please! has anyone seen my words?

It appears the fabled "Writer's block" has found me.

I just wanted to prove my worth in words.

My quality is dropping, this process is painful but apparently necessary.

Whispers: We were meant to live for something more.

But I lost myself.

2009-04-03T09:43:00.002+11:00

I need to start waking up and consciously remembering my reason for getting out of bed every morning. The onset of mediocre is leaking back, accompanied by whispers of deceit and morning fogs of worthlessness. My mornings do not belong to you, nor the rest of my day. You cannot take my joy or purpose! I have a strength eternal, He is with me always.

I've just realised you are poison.

Now you have to leave.

Hydrated and Dehydrated need love alike.

2009-04-02T20:38:00.002+11:00

I need much.
I want even more.
In fact, I usually attain more of what I want at the expense of that I need.

Oh bugger.
So very glad am I that I may take refuge in this home of mine.

Ps: If I ever (by some strange happening) open up a cafe or a boutique of my own, never will I put up the sign "experience essential" in my search for staff. But I will instead, take down names, numbers and emails of all and call each as each vacancy opens up in the order they came. I will make judgements based on their real-life interactions upon meeting, rather than upon amatuer writings on paper. I will. If ever there be the need.

Pps: Hire me please. I've never aimed so high. I've never been so desperate.

2009-03-30T08:51:00.002+11:00

I hope to be a millionaire.
The only buy on my mind would be a place of residency...with lots of furniture.
I owe my friends plenty of gifts, a few unpaid bets and meals to appreciate family by.
Of course 10% would go to the church.
And perhaps I could even save a little bit, keep it for a rainy day.
Hopefully I do not devour the million that comes my way stupidly, but invest and spend it healthily, on matters that matter. Seeds that grow. Rods that fish. Love that loves.

I'd like to believe I could spend it wisely.

Let me be a millionaire, I like to prove it to you.

The perfect maze.Yesterday. Because.

2009-03-25T21:12:00.011+11:00

Perfect in the sense that getting lost would have been pleasurable. Perfect because somehow finding the way out would not have been as beneficial as discovering what a world of authors chose to write about. This was the secondhand (I prefer the term: 'preloved') bookstore with the deceptively cramp front.

I had already visited my favorite jewelry boutique, spending about 16minutes on wishful thinking and a minute more on bittersweet wondering. The longer I spent there the hungrier my eyes became and the emptier my fingers appeared so it was seemingly time to move on. I had a few more moments to dawdle away and decided that this little bookshop around the corner next to the pizza shop could keep me occupied that little while longer.

-Enters I-

I walked straight towards the shelf of compiled "art" coffee table books and the like, where I had bought an intriguing account of Peter Max's (love him) colourful works for $30 in first year. I found a few more at the $30 mark, deciding I could not afford to splurge at a time like this &that today my absolute cap on spending would be $25. Nothing on that shelf struck me as worth the large amount within the four or six minutes I spent scanning and flicking through random pickings.

I proceeded to the neighbouring subdivision at the foot of the narrow staircase, on whose wall requested that all bags be left at the counter. Reluctance to leave my belongings with strangers was due to trust issues (seeded by my father, concerning this dark intending world); I did, however, soon remind myself that only characters of relative worth would be granted work in such a treasure trove! So I hello-ed the stranger behind the counter and left my belongings with him as I walked up the stairs into divided chambers.

Something happens when you're surrounded by books, especially when the books are pre-loved orphans waiting to be chosen, wanting to be loved. I found myself quickly wishing I could somehow absorb every book in each chamber, just by running my fingers over their spines even if it took me hours.

Because in here, even the dust was rich. Because the finest of people (defined simply by their desire and effort to share something wonderful) sifted their thoughts and refined their recollections to present us (the rest of the world) with something of value; another interpretation of life- beautiful and unglorious alike! Because it is important to let people know things. Because our world seeks to be expanded; territory, covered and appropriate knowledge known so that the best of decisions can be made in life.

Because somehow life is a strict yes and no, black and white and somewhere in this library of forlorn writings was the answer to mine and I needed to know it. I knew that somehow if I were to put everybody together, everything would make sense. Because everybody holds a different piece of my puzzle, and books are little pieces of people, so it made perfect sense that if I collected expressions of different pieces from every person...I would finally understand.

But I could not afford every book in the world written by every person, I couldn't even afford a few hundred books in one of these chambers let alone the entire shop, let alone the entire world of books!

I returned to my belongings and thanked the stranger behind the counter. I gave him $17.50 and a smile. He gave me four books, one paper bag and returned the smile.

-Exit I with the friend I entered the maze to wait for-

michief had overridden

2009-03-24T12:20:00.002+11:00

Aha! What has she done now? And why is she so thrilled with her complication? Be watchful, you have managed to evade fatalities until now...& now you're just asking for it!

My former self is in strife over my recent decisions. I couldn't be more amused!

grow up mischievous child.
It seems my rebellion kicked in a little later than the average teen.
Either that or curiousity never had me,
not like this,
until now.

2009-03-22T21:27:00.002+11:00

Dance, don't leave me!
I loved you once, and I never got over you...
A few years later and I think I'm better off with you.

The businessman hated lunchtimes.

2009-03-19T14:08:00.004+11:00

He stood on the busy corner with his body language confused. Hand on hip, the other in pocket alongside tall posture were contradicted by his lowered face and blank stares at the asphalt. In his pocket was a rich wallet possessing a wad of cash, seeking somebody to spoil. In the other hand, he held loosely onto a piece of cardboard.

It begged "company?"

2009-03-18T22:47:00.004+11:00

As I approached the corner I heard the very voices I was rounding the corner to meet in conversation and smiled. I straightened my wear before entering and just before stepping heard your unusually shy inquiry, "I don't know anymore." "Don't know what?" "Don't know who she is anymore".
I smirked, because I was about to ask you if you knew, but from what I heard you didn't, so I didn't ask.
I sighed a curious sigh, and breathed an anticipating breath, then continued lightly across the corridor of unopened doors wondering which others might help me discover who I now was.

I wanted to buy cigarettes.

2009-03-17T12:00:00.002+11:00

Today, I had a strange curiosity invade me. & as a result I wanted to buy a pack of cigarettes. The first thing to mind was "which?". Apparently deciding which brand of cigarettes is as easy as choosing flavours in an icecreamery. I didn't buy a packet. I wouldn't know what to do with it. Smoke it? Perhaps. Then I began to think. (Brace yourselves, she's thinking)

I have discovered I am owner to a small rebellion. Subtle and often quiet, but rebellious regardless. It is not entirely bad, I justify my keeping it as a challenge to the beliefs I have, knocking, testing and ultimately edifying what I believe, making me wonder: why.

Anyway, the thought occurred to me. What if, by some bizarre spontaneity, I decided I was going to smoke a cigarette and walk pass a cluster of grade-schoolers... from my church? What then? And Why?

Why are cigarettes looked upon so disdainfully by people like me?
Addiction, yes? But if it were my second (I would probably have practiced smoking at least once before a public display, to get the rhythm right and downpat) and there was no addiction, I smoked it purely out of curiosity and dare I say enjoyment. Then where is the sin in that? I am no more addicted than she with her king-size chocolate bar or he who drinks only coke. Take your pick, burn your lungs very so gradually or clog your arteries. Both just as glorious! So if I was not addicted (yet, yes I am aware of the yet) then it is simply an addition to the fabolous list of "all things are permissible, not all are benefitial".

Thus ends my hate of the cigarette. Some are addicted and I wished they weren't. Some do it illegally, of which I am unimpressed. Some do, just because they can and that is completely fine with me. If you saw me smoking my second cigarette, would it make you second guess my character? Would you think less of me? Would cigarettes lower my capability to love? So then what?

I still have never smoked a cigarette in my life but I will no longer say that I never will.
I don't hate them anymore. End.

something surface, nothing more.

2009-03-16T15:20:00.005+11:00

i'm becoming quite fond of him
i know him little
he knows me a little more
he is charming, clever
almost disarming
but these qualities are surface
and i fear that is all i have time for

because we are too apart
too convinced of our own lifestyles
and this will probably come to nothing
(i've never bothered writing these musings before and ive always denied such but for some reason i'd like to be free of my denials just for now)

as apparently useless as it is, indulgence in imagination
(though full of folly and thankfully temporary)
helps to pass the time while waiting for things to make sense

it seems
i've never fallen in love
but have been falling in like since ever.

makes me curious...

All aboard! This train's leaving Comfort Zone!

2009-03-12T22:54:00.004+11:00

My life is about to change.

Suddenly saddened, I pack my past of lazy days and ample leisure, as I wade anxiously into a new job. Three days ago I never expected things to happen so fast. Now I half reluctantly preparing myself to be expected to work 4-5 shifts a week on top of uni and ministries, my growing friendships and a relationship with God (perhaps even this dream of mentoring amazing girls). Suddenly I'm biting my lip constantly, with anticipation at how everything will fit and how on earth I'm to learn purposeful and time efficient days from... an ad hock riddled life. Will this put your/my priorities into perspective or throw them off? Will I come out stronger, more mature, more capable...or the contrary?

Oh, let me not forget to thank you for this opportunity, God. I needed this jolt back into urgency and I know that you give peace so I need not worry about deteriorating into a nervous wreck. But this is change, and a costly change at that, the type that costs your/my most precious resource, time. Change is daunting but change is needed. Just please, don't let me neglect everything you've taught me. Let me be the one doing the influencing those around me, even if the odds are 10 to 1. Let me be the light here. Let us go together.

Thank you that Blake, Kim and Helen are so easy to get along with. Thank you that John is considerate and the chef's are kind. God, unto you. Unto you.

Hello Groove Train. Hello.
As long as I'm there, you'll get to know my God.

There were two.

2009-03-12T07:13:00.003+11:00

Both were still on the long gruelling road to recovery and discovery of what God had in store (if indeed He still had a plan for them). Both were broken, but in different places; hurt, but in different ways. Both in need of great amounts of love to smooth over the cracks laid deep in them. Both still trying, with all they knew, to be good. Both still undeniably beautiful.

Yet another who was apart of both and quite unharmed chose not to love them the way love would have it. In fact, this other could hardly consider her relationship with both, a friendship, as she looked dutifully upon these ties as obligations. The other's impatient sighs went often unnoticed, but her heart, her heart was cold; it was biased and knew all too well how to love conditionally.

This other was, yesterday, humbled and given light reprimand. But the weight of her humiliation lay in the reveal that she had been a counter-productively poor representation of a loving God. And was sorry. She was learning how to love, through idiot mistakes and hoped her failings would never be at the expense of those who couldn't afford it.

i
am
so
sorry.
God you are gracious.
There were two.
I love you both.
Then,
there were three.

2009-03-05T20:52:00.002+11:00

I love that love loves through this muck, mess and leeking darkness.

O God.
.. .God.
.. .God.
czz.........You are beautiful regardless. Thank you, lovely.

I know you.

2009-03-05T20:19:00.005+11:00

A few things I'd like you to know that I know.

I know that today wasn't fantastic.
I know that you tried to look on the bright side, but it faded.
I know that for at least 8 minutes today you just wanted someone to counter your sighs.
I know that you brushed the thought that perhaps if your responsibilities didn't weigh so, you'd feel lighter.
I know that as you pulled out your wallet you overrode sensibility to keep that little bit in your wallet for a little longer.

I know, I felt the same.

I know, though, that you're worth much more than all you know.
& glad am I for you, because knowing you adds to the worth of my little day.

Lastly, I know that we should better tomorrow.
I know.
ps: I bought a dress today...I nearly bought three.

Dress me subtly.

2009-03-04T00:37:00.005+11:00

I like dresses. I pass a fair few I "admire", because they hold character and dimension in colour, diversity, pattern and shape. I can afford few and have even fewer.

If I were to be in posession of many dresses, if I were to wear them often, I would be out of character. Because the me that my closest circle know is not the girl in dresses but the girl alternative. It's ironic how the closer you become to people, the more permanent you become, the harder it is to change simply because by changing, you arouse question and critique. It's funnier still how those who know you shallowly couldn't care less how you changed and would still see you simply as the girl known not so closely.

There. I like dresses.
I don't want to be a pretty girl predictable. I want just to be.
Looks like this like will have to be a subtle graduation, if any at all.

(c)opyright. Janitor.

2009-03-03T00:10:00.002+11:00

She befriended the janitor of the tallest building
Gave him smiles and conversation indefinitely
And in exchange he cut her a key to the rooftop of the tallest building in the city.

2009-02-24T22:45:00.001+11:00

Sambuca for me, thanks.

2009-02-21T19:28:00.005+11:00

I'm not just OK with you here.
I'm alive and well where ever we are.

I love being alive.

It's amazing, the most unimpressive events can be made memorable with just the company of somebody(s) you trust and admire. Way cool.

I don't know what's right and what's real anymore.

2009-02-19T18:49:00.003+11:00

I'm almost positive these days are leading somewhere! It's as though someone's started a countdown and the days become a little more restless. My usual 14-16 hours awake each day seem to weigh heavier with purpose.

Perhaps...perhaps it has something to do with spending my days with you. Perhaps because I write to you and I feel the change.

Perhaps I am in love.

Yet I'm stirred to believe that my anticipation and restless spirit is more than just being in love, as consuming as love is. Something's happening around me. I notice it in those around me, as this world collapses in the natural and unexplainable. Perhaps again, it is just my perception and/or my imagination running circles around my open mind.

But I want never to be hopeless or helpless ever again. I want to shed this skin of weak resolve and selfish intent. I want to feel your hurt, except rather than being crippled by it, use it to fuel my fight.

Gossip's such a pathetic snake, it's shameful to think it could do so much harm.

2009-02-17T00:46:00.003+11:00

When words fail: release is found in silence and screams.

I wish I had a better camera.

2009-02-10T22:47:00.009+11:00

Wonderful, I didn't want to put you down. You simultaneously broke my heart and healed it over.

...let them sing, let them dance, let them forever be free. You are beautiful. You all.

Thank you.

2009-02-09T00:02:00.004+11:00

5 days away from the awkward day.

It amuses me much, that we should uplift the celebration of St. Valentine, who according to wikipedia, "upon rejection by his mistress was so heartbroken that he took a knife to his chest and sent her his still-beating heart as a token of his undying love for her. "

So whilst my friends exchange lovenotes and find dates for the ridiculous day, I hope I receive none. Perhaps because I am a critic, or a cynic or both, or perhaps still, sore. But I will most likely spend the day with a selection of my finest friends, laughing at the extraordinary prices of the flower market and entertaining gimmicks. Most likely finish the day with a sigh, and without complication (one could hope).

So to my dears without a valentine on arm, how much harm can one sickly sweet day render our cleared heads? And to all with a valentine, cheers to you and happy spending!

Dearest Thailand

2009-01-30T20:11:00.004+11:00

I like what you've taught me and how you've taught me. Your children are beautiful and your cultures, intriguing. Suddenly my interpretation of "rich" has been altered with that image of family intimacy you've demonstrated; inspiring. Did you know that you home strangers who care much for you, if even only for 9 months. I ask you to acknowledge them, I think they tire.

You of unspoken beauty and mangly treasures, hear and live.
Your heartbreak is my reason to be here.
He loves you. He loves you.
Glory, glory. My Lord is here.

Rehab.

2009-01-20T23:50:00.003+11:00

Here again, in this rehabilitation process I don't deserve your patience for.
Wash me out;
make me new.
I don't want to be afraid anymore.
I want to know that what I do is built upon truth and that you could use me.
Because I trust you. You've shaken me & you have me taken by the immeasurable measures you go to, in which you continue to prove your love for me. Regardless.