I didn't know what life was

For a start, a random start.

It makes me happy to see your name popping up in my inbox, even though they are only facebook alerts. It makes me happy, because we are in touch, and often. Doesn't matter that its about random pointless stuff, its contact. And I never want to lose it, you are too awesome.

My mum tells me I went through this phase of screaming myself to sleep.

Not crying, screaming.

Not cos I was scared, cos I didn't want to go to sleep.

I still resist it.

e.g. right now.

1 in the morning, I have to work tomorrow, I don't even care.

I don't want to go to bed, goodness only knows why.

I know I'll be fairly happy when I get there, get to sleep.

I don't know why, but I know I always have.

any ideas anyone?

yay for psychologically self diagnosing :D

when i grow up, I'll be stable

the five top phrases that make me want to crawl into my bed and NEVER come out

5. "final exams"
4. "this will only hurt a little"
3. "we need to talk"
2. "I'm sorry to tell you"
1. "lost passport"

number one no joke...oh god.
makes me want to throw up with fear even when I'm sitting safely on my couch in a country I don't need a passport, with it safely in the filing cabinet not 6 metres away.
actually, I might go check that...
no worries :)

And I never even lost my passport, only a train ticket...

and hey, if leisha can make me do this, i can make you.
i want to hear yours :)
comment me with the list, or a link, or whatevs.

I finally hit the crackpot
you finally broke me down
I'd give you every cent I've got
to wipe away your frown

My wasted hours haunt me now
as day fades into day
you called me 'stupid', 'ugly', 'cow'
they said its just your way

desperation drinks vodka from a teacup
frustration drinks bourbon from a shoe
I'd take all I had and I'd give it all up
just to get a little word from you

after seven years of telling me
that this is all ill get
you finally got your way my dear
so are you happy yet?




just so you know, this is totally fictional, the last verse kinda just popped into my head while I was watching criminal minds and it went from there.
so don't stress, im fine :)

if grace is an ocean we're all sinking

Ok, a message to the few year twelves who read this, or give a damn.
stay away from me, ok?
just for a bit...

I'm having one of those days/clumps of a few days.

Just to give you the idea...
have you ever seen the show scorpion island?
its like survivor for kids, but no-one gets voted out, they just have to win 'island torches' to give them advantage in the final challenge that decides who wins, with me?
well 'the island' took one of the core members of one of the teams as a prize for one of the challenges. and they were, understandably, devastated. and crying.

and for some dumbass reason, I nearly joined them
quite literally, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.

so, stay away for a bit, or face the wrath of my blubbering mess.
particularly you jelly, since ill start you and then you'll make me worse and on and on we go until we drown. wonderland style.

ill let you know when I'm less of an emotional hazard.

kthanxbai

Why am I supposed to love if I don't want to?

I find it interesting. I'm watching Oprah, and they are talking to this author, who wrote some thing called 'eat pray love' about spiritual journeys and india and italy and bali and meditation and stuff.
It talks about slowing down, taking time for yourself and stuff, meditation, prayer and stuff. The author keeps talking about 'god'

I would like to pop into the the television and ask her which god she is talking about.

I believe that i know the one and only one, the true god.
But I would like to know who she believes she is talking to, and encouraging others to talk to.
What does he/she think of her? What is he/she doing in the world.
Does she know whether or not this god actually listens?

She said that 'god is the perfection which absorbs'. apparently a gnostic thing.

I don't like that idea. I'm slowly learning to disagree with people and I disagree with this lady.
God is a real thinking feeling listening talking acting being.
sure, on an unbelievably deeper level than us, but still.

I don't believe that god is just a blissful sponge waiting for people to sit there and clear their heads and be sucked on into his perfection.

I believe that he is jealous for me loves like a hurricane i am a tree, bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
I believe that his grace is an ocean and we're all sinking.

he loves us, oh how he loves us

he is jealous for me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYu68H7nNGQ&NR=1

watch it.

For the ten minutes it will take you to watch this, stop studying. stop.

for just ten minutes.

stop for ten minutes and watch this thing and let yourself cry, or just be impacted in whatever form it takes on you.

i think i might actually change my blog title cos of this, cos this is just...

He is jealous for me,
Love's like a hurricane, I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.

When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

So we are his portion and he is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in his eyes,
If grace is an ocean we're all sinking.

So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest.

I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way
He loves us

oh how he loves us so

lets pull it together now

We.are.made.of.win

its that simple.

Essentially my dear wifey, I love you lol.

To fill in those who were not privileged enough to be there, we got a bag of oranges, drew faces on them, wrote a little note and scattered them over her office.

Those in our psych class will get it. And by oranges I mean real oranges, like, the kind you juice and what not.

Just cos we are awesome, and cos she is awesome.

best last day prank ever lol.

You're Beautiful, It's true

You’re Beautiful, by Simon Armitage

You’re Beautiful because you’re classically trained.
I’m ugly because I associate piano wire with strangulation.

You’re beautiful because you stop to read the cards in newsagents’ windows about lost cats and missing dogs.
I’m ugly because of what 1 did to that jellyfish with a lolly-stick and a big stone

You’re beautiful because for you, politeness is instinctive, not a marketing campaign
I’m ugly because desperation is impossible to hide.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

You’re beautiful because you believe in coincidence and the power of thought.
I’m ugly because I proved God to be a mathematical impossibility

You’re beautiful because you prefer home-made soup to the packet stuff.
I’m ugly because once, at a dinner party, I defended the aristocracy and wasn’t even drunk.

You’re beautiful because you can’t work the remote control.
I’m ugly because of satellite television and twenty-four hour rolling news.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

You’re beautiful because you cry at weddings as well as funerals.
I’m ugly because I think .of children as another species from a different world.

You’re beautiful because you look great in any colour including red.
I’m ugly because I think shopping is strictly for the acquisition of material goods.

You’re beautiful because when you were born, undiscovered planets lined up to peep over the rim of your cradle and lay gifts of gravity and light at your miniature feet.
I’m ugly for saying ‘love at first sight’ is another form of mistaken identity and that the most human of all responses is to gloat.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

You’re beautiful because you’ve never seen the inside of a car-wash,
I’m ugly because I always ask for a receipt.

You’re beautiful for sending a box of shoes to the third world.
I’m ugly because I remember the telephone numbers of ex-girlfriends and the year Schubert was born.

You’re beautiful because you sponsored a parrot in a zoo.
I’m ugly because when I sigh it’s like the slow collapse of a circus tent.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

You’re beautiful because you can point at a man in a uniform and laugh.
I’m ugly because I was a police informer in a previous life.

You’re beautiful because you drink a litre of water and eat three pieces of fruit a day.
I’m ugly for taking the line that a meal without meat is a beautiful woman with one eye.

You’re beautiful because you don’t see love as a competition and you know how to lose.
I’m ugly because I kissed the FA Cup then held it up to the crowd.

You’re beautiful because of a single buttercup in the top buttonhole of your cardigan.
I’m ugly because I said the World’s Strongest Woman was a muscleman in a dress.

You’re beautiful because you couldn’t live in a lighthouse.
I’m ugly for making hand-shadows in front of the giant bulb, so when they look up, the captains of vessels in distress see the ears of a rabbit, or the eye of a fox, or the legs of a galloping black horse.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

I love this... a lot

the rhthym of the rocking is unknown

Just in case I hadn't stolen this idea enough already...

Dear Peter Pan,
I will miss you. So damn much.
You don't even know how much I'll miss you. You can't, cos I don't.
It might be as much as I expect, or maybe more. I think the most random things will make me think of you and our very random, often inappropriate-conversation times.
I can honestly say I love you.
In an odd, six-way-marriage-perfect-stripper-cake-of-celebrities-alice-in-wonderland-peter-pan way.
Kthanxbai!

Dear Vietnam,
I already miss you so much.
It has been nearly a year since we met and you changed me and I painted some of your walls and much of myself and much of my pants.
My fat old history teacher likes your neighbour/cousinish fellow better than you. He prefers to sit on his fat ass and drink beer and eat food. I prefer to walk fake-drunkenly through your incredible organised chaos streets and try not to get hit by a bus.
My fat old history teacher maintains that it is less commercial.
He may be right. However, he also prefers the hindu goddess of death to the one true living loving god.
I do not trust his opinion.

Gam ern for the good times!


Dear beautiful,
I loved you even when you were mostly closed up, scared and vulnerable.
I loved you when I only knew about the ones on your wrists.
Recently you have been opening up, like a fearful, hesitant, incredibly beautiful flower.
I do not love you more, because I believe in trying to love people the same all the time you know. Strongly, unconditionally. Consistently you know?
But it is amazing, and I feel so privelliged to get to hear what goes on in that beautiful brain of yours. And you are going to pass year twelve. Even if neither of us sleep all year, you will pass, and so will I. k? good :)

Dear Amazing,
I feel like... like one day I will scream at you.
Like one day I will yell with all the desperate confusion and humanity in my soul that even though I don't think homosexuality is the best idea humans ever had, there is something deep and urgent inside me that tells me all people are gods people, all people are real, feeling, breathing, crying, sinning creatures of gods incredible creation.
One day, I will snap and tell you that believe it or not, frowning at something you feel to be too low brow will not make it as conservative as you. That those things are often funny. Believe it or not. One day, I will scream.

But I love you, so even when I snap, please don't stop loving me because I'm too liberal for your taste..


Dear Incredible,
You are exactly that.
The pain you have/are/will endure is just...
I can't even...
just....dude...
I know right?
I love you SO MUCH
k?
many loves and hugs and jasmine flowers for you forever...

They're just old men, like on the benches in the park

the wind sighs deeply, as a long awaited love breathing deeply in the night beside you.
and yet, now it rushes and with a feverish whisper it pulls you with it, come, it says come run away with me

can you feel the empty sky?

something i would like to say to/about someone i love


my life looks like...

if i could look like someone else i would choose...


today I feel...

i could live without

deep inside you are...
something you want to say to/about someone you love...

If you really love christmas...

love, actually.

no other movie can make me laugh and cry so much in such a short space of time.

'Tell me, if you were in my position, what would you do?'
'What position is that?'
'Imagine your husband bought a gold necklace, and come Christmas gave it to somebody else...'
'Oh, Karen...'
'Would you wait around to find out if it's just a necklace, or if it's sex and a necklace, or if, worst of all, it's a necklace and love? Would you stay, knowing life would always be a little bit worse? Or would you cut and run?'
'Oh, God. I am so in the wrong. The classic fool!'
'Yes, but you've also made a fool out of me, and you've made the life I lead foolish, too!'


oh gosh...
tearful, seriously tearful stuff.

That's the thing about that movie...it doesn't all end happy.
Like the chick with the mentally disabled brother, who calls her all the time. she picks him over the love of her life and she goes to go see him on christmas eve or whatever it is...
and he tries to hit her... he says the nurses are trying to kill him, and he tries to hit her.
That story doesn't end happy.

And the married woman with the adulterous husband. like, he doesn't actually sleep with the chick, but it becomes an emotional thing you know, he buys her stuff for christmas, flirts and whatnot, but its so incredibly incredibly sad...

That joni mitchell song plays that says 'i really don't know love at all', i think its called clouds...
but its damn sad...

....

or is it the noise of irony and boredom fighting it out for first place?

To my dearest lovely darling girl,

im sorry

I thought I should say it big because I mean it big...

I know you pointed out a few times that you aren't that mad, but I'm mad at me.

Cos I've kinda been there you know.

And still I'm a dumbass...

story of my life really, I learn important things slowly.

I can remember names, stupid acronyms for psychology.

But not how it felt to stand it pretty much the same place as you are.

until its too late.

Honestly, I think I take out my hidden bitterness at being alone on the people who aren't.

wow.

that was random and deep...

and true, I'm not actually alone.

Cos you know, friends and family and community.

And, you know. God.

lol.

But I am stupid.

So now maybe you know some of what it was like to be me at that sleepover that sad time when we cried at the notebook and you hid under a bed and annoyed me and they put a tomato in my ear and i had to call the pizza place cos Giccy was afraid of the phone and we played truth or dare and i got referenced and I nearly broke down right then and there.

But I should know a lot about what its like to feel like that.

And maybe I now I should know a little more like what it felt like to be her...to say something not so smart but you were kinda venting more than anything and didn't want to hurt the person you were just kinda making a joke and kinda being bitter...

So, in conclusion

im sorry

and for the record, it doesn't actually bother me.

Honest to goodness it doesn't.

It doesn't bother me that you won (not in the slightest, honest to god) and it doesn't bother me that you're a bit couply.

cos you aren't that bad.

I just...

I just get bitter and stupid you know?

And for the record again, I think its great that she doesn't get under your skin. I really want to find a way to not be bothered by it. I don't even know what 'it' is.

So yeah...

im sorry

and the other comment?

the 'you'll find that out before me'. it definitely came out of a place of bitterness and insecurity and dumbassery. so I'm very specifically sorry for that.

and guess what

I love you too :)

the weather's strange, can't tell you anymore

though this desperate gale will drive away the jasmine and the blossoms,
leave us desolate once she has passed.
I simply cannot convince myself to be bothered, for I could never ask her to stop.


My only desire is to sit on the roof and be blown away with her, a sister in madness...

i eat poo :D

no time for losers...

I wanted to write something.

Something deep, thought provoking.

Or funny, that would work to...

Or just delightfully random.

But I feel so dry and tired, I feel spent.

I spent time procrastinating

I spent time studying

I spent time stressing

I spent time with friends

I spent time at church

I spent time spending money

I spent time yelling at my mum

I spent time listening to queen

I spent time sleeping

'Science has shown that the way people think about cancer affects their ability to deal with the disease, thus affecting their overall health. Professor Spencer said that if he were to sit down with his family and tell them he had cancer they would be shocked, concerned, perhaps even in tears and yet cancer is nothing near the most deadly of diseases. Because of war metaphor, the professor said, we are more likely to fear cancer when, actually, most people survive the disease.

Mr Spencer then asked us about another area in which he feels metaphors cause trouble. He asked us to consider relationships. What metaphors do we use when we think of relationships? 'We value people' I shouted out. Yes, he said and wrote it on his little whiteboard. We invest in people, another person added. And soon enough we had listed a whole whiteboard of economic metaphor. Relationships could be bankrupt, we said. People are priceless, we said. All economic metaphor. I was taken aback.

And that's when it hit me like so much epiphany getting dislodged from my arteries. The problem with christian culture is that we think of love as a commodity. We use it like money. Professor Spencer was right, and not only was he right but I felt as though he had cured me, as though he had let me out of my cage. I could see it very clearly. If someone is doing something for us, offering us something, be it gifts, time, popularity or what have you, we feel they have value, we feel they are worth something to us and, perhaps, we feel they are priceless. I could see it so clearly, and I could feel it in the pages of my life. This was the thing that had smelled so rotten all these years. I used love like money. The church used love like money. With love, we withheld affirmation from the people who did not agree with us, but we lavishly financed those who did.'

Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller

And to add to that, why do we treat ourselves like money...

That is definitely not what I thought I'd end up writing...

Now I am super motivated to go tidy my desk, instead of doing homework...

Man I love that book so much...

If I haven't lent it to you yet, tell me that I should lend it to you for some of the summer holidays. I promise it will give a marvellous alternative to reading King Lear, Fly Away Peter, The Dolls House and The Odyssey.

Even if you don't enjoy it, you can throw it back in my face when I don't do what it says, cos I've read it three times and I plan to read it again. So If you catch me doing something that I shouldn't be, I should have gotten the point by now and you can tell me that if you like.

Wanna know something funny?

I was gonna turn this post into pointless rambling and end it with a ya mum joke.

Funny how life goes...

withyamum

vanity, insecurity, don't you forget about me

this is gay.

I'm sick, so I'm dead tired.

But because I'm sick I can't sleep.

this is not even funny.

they fit together like love on a letter

you could be the thief that id give the key to

Sunshine on my window...

I can't believe I'm still up.
watching movies.
with my sister and five of her friends.
we watched nicole kidman die, ewan mcgregor cry and heath ledger seduce julia stiles.

good stuff.

Least mathsy study night ever.
great stuff.
lots of random flirty moments, and he drove me home in his utter bomb of a car.

And for those few who give a damn, his family keeps the big bottle of tomato sauce in the pantry and the one they top up and use in the fridge.

im sure I can convince him :)