I'm not sayin' it was your fault, although you could have done more

I still dream about you.
Embarassingly often.
Like seriously, if you ever find out how much you're on my mind, or in my dreams...
Well I'm screwed, because you'll be too weirded out to speak to me ever again, and I'll just get worse.
I had a dream within a dream, about English being horrible.
Woke up from the dream within the dream, had a whinge to Shaz and Catherine, they were coming over for some reason. As we walked through the house I discovered it was full of people, from all of my different little circles.
School friends, Church friends, Old work mates, a couple of my favourite netball girls, some family and of course, the old family friends. You. Well you and your brother and your best friend.

You were cooking something, you were wearing oven mits and standing in the kitchen. Your brother and best friends were sitting around on the benches, demanding that you make them a sandwich.

You laughed, put down whatever it was (bits of oven maybe?) and looked up and saw me.
And you were... well happy to see me. I got me a massive hug from you and your brother, and other people from my life started popping up.
Two from separate circles appeared to be suddenly a couple, which was very weird, but overall it was just awesome fun.

And even though it was your face only in a sea of others that I adore so much, I only remembered the dream and made myself remember because you were there.

And I miss you.
And you don't reply to anything.

And you will never be who I imagined you to be, but part of me still doesn't know that.

And I wonder if I will ever stop dreaming of you.

andpartofmedoesn'twantto

like a dozen lies and a dozen more

English studies homework is like deep water diving without oxygen. Take a deep breath and dive in.
Hold your breath and don't stay there too long, or you'll die.

So basically, I sat at the computer desk staring at facebook for ten minutes before I realised I'd got out my classics book not my english.

Then I realised I had not in fact finished analysing my poetry, but was relying on the power of wishful thinking. shockingly, this has not got my english finished.


'i've been writing you a letter. about skin and bones. the internet. sometimes it begins, yesterday i saw a black bird in the park eating worms. and sometimes, it doesn't. these days it takes everything i've got not to burn down your house. rise up from these bed sheets in the morning to screaming. instead i fold paper hearts into paper birds. and other things with wings. sail them out our old-bedroom window. until collections of them. like memories of me and you. drop there on the almost-summer concrete below. false falling snow.' - http://doggerel.blogspot.com/2010/05/diacritical-remarks-for-your-dead-dead.html


incredible...

I will still sleep peacefully with answers out of reach from me

'Arithmetic'

Sums
Deadlines met, missed and Looming
Twitches, strains, aches
High points, valleys, dead pan
purple
sheet music
copious amounts of unwarn jewelry
singular shoes
copious amounts of caffeinated beverages
mind full of analysis and random Baz Luhrman inflicted weird
Constant freakout or exhaustion.

Division
Sucks


somedayallthatshazythroughacloudedglasswillbeclearatlast
sometimeswe'rejustwaitingforsomeday

Happiness hit her like a bullet in the head...

Ok, so I've done two things that I was totally NOT going to.
Ok, actually three, but the first two pretty much merge into one, so I'm gonna call it two because its less horrible. Ok it still is three bceause there's another one lol.

So, 1. I fell as I tried to jog up the stairs at marketplace church tonight, it was hilarious and only Hannah Keane is brave enough to agree with me to my face lol, or at least the only one to do it more than once and make a massive in joke of it.

2. I have totally found a new one of he who fell from the stars in my eyes, a new statue for my pedestal. I know for a fact that he would HATE it if he knew my ever so slightly excessive admiration of him, I know he would, but its still there. Not as massive as the original one at least, but there, irritatingly enough. When I said I could listen to him talk for hours, I meant it sadly.

3. (and kind of four) I like him. For crying out loud I friggin like him. He's smart, he's talented, he's genuine, he's got faith, he's sweet and he no-joke makes me laugh like a loon on loon tablets. I like him a lot, unfortunately. I tried to tell myself it's all in my head, but it doesn't matter even if it is, because I have to be in my head too. The fourth part is my CHRONIC daydreaming, and I suppose you'd call it fantasy, but totally not in a sexy way if you know what I mean.
Dumbest idea EVER.



So basically, to sum up my state of mind:

• My own stupidity and over emotionality
  
  
• School starting in three days
  
  
• Living in a loveless world and a loveless mind
  
  

I'm not bothered

If the summer holds a song, we might sing forever

So, I don't know that I have all that much to say, but...

Sometimes I feel disconnected.

From the reality outside the car when I'm driving, the customer over the phone, the person behind the text.

From the people beside me, my friends and family, disconnected from the passage of time.

From God, myself and reality.

For example, when I'm driving, I feel like I'm playing a video game, it doesn't feel like it has real consequences, even though I know in my head that it does.

It used to happen really badly, a couple years ago, in like year nine.

I knew you were leaving, and man oh man did I dread it. I knew that everything had to change and there was nothing I could do about it.

And it was like....

It was like at the end of Juno, when they play 'Anyone else but You' and they slowly zoom out and show end credits. Like I was in nostalgia mode about the event, even as it was happening.

Like my zoom was set too far out, and I couldn't help but look at my life as a memory, it was like watching a distant memory in my mind, I felt so far away from everything and everyone.

I don't know why this thought is the one that has come out in this moment when I thought I had nothing to say, but there it is.

lets take a breath, jump over the side

This is the original intent of the poem I posted before, I just got to articulating the second idea first.
This one might make a little less sense straight up, but I'd love to hear your interpretations.


you were made of sunshine

I took your picture
added glitter
over parts I didn't like

changed your smile
and for a while
you were made of sunshine

took my lenses
messed with tenses
saw you in my rosy way

shuffle pieces
ironed creases
saved you for a rainy day

I change your nose
remove your woes
Then move on to your heart

Create new words
my vision blurred
and then onto your past

I'll heal the scars
of long nights dark
we'll be each others heroes

down we delve
to save ourselves
from counting up the zeros

I close my eyes
and big surprise
Your perfect smile greats me

Far I fall,
You save us all
No darkness can defeat me

The sun does rise
wipe sleep from eyes
Your magic unforgettable

From every place
remove the trace
Reality regrettable

completed souls
together whole
I cling to adoration

you are mine
we intertwine
and you are my salvation

Perfection reached
I write my speech
reveal this perfect art

admire your face
all parts in place
your strong and perfect heart

Hold it up
and raise my cup
a toast to it I stammer

I hear a sound
and look around
and see you getting hammered

what if there was no time...

A wish list...

1. A little place of my own, close to where I work, study, worship, close to friends.

2. Or even, a bigger place, shared with said people. Three or four of, a nice community thingo. So that I only have to do one chore all the time. Dear future roomates, SHOT GUN DOING THE LAUNDRY :)

or a combination of the two over the years.

3. The kind of place where I can just say 'yeah sure, come right over, make yourself at home. Sure, stay for dinner! Sure, stay the night! Midnight cookie dough? sure thing!' A place for me to be wicked hospitable, to always have guests coming out, the type of guests who care about my company and having fun, not spotlessness.

4. Somewhere to watch the sunset.

5. Somewhere to watch the sunrise, when I manage to get up for it.

6. Somewhere close to a coffee shop.

7. The kind of job I can go to only during the day, work with people who make me smile and laugh, work hard but not so fast I feel like my hair is gonna fly off and the kinda place I can leave feeling like I did what I was meant to. Work to do well and leave there.

Overall, the kind of life when I could wake up, not know what day it is until I open a diary, realise everything is all laid out and going to go swimmingly, and go through the day not needing to know what time it is, just being full immersed in whatever I'm doing.

The kind of life that is great just the way it is, the kind of life that good things just happen to. Good people don't need to be searched for, they just kind of arrive through different ways.

A life of spontaneity, contentment, creativity and closeness with God.

The kind of life that doesn't leave me looking to the future and wondering about husbands and children and all that stuff that is great when you have it, but terrible when you are too aware of not having it.

I want the future to just kind of roll on in, I don't want to sit here waiting for it.

I don't want to sit here waiting for my man.

I want to live.

such divided hearts...

frank woodley.
is a freaking genius.

and chicken tonight ads are silly.
but my sister doing the chicken crump is even sillier.
no kidding, i nearly wet myself.

but the weather wet me for me.
wow.
that was a weird sentence.

muffin flange.

that's a weird sentence too.

lol, if anyone knows what flange is (as in guitar effects/pedals) im imagining a muffin, making flangey noises. thanks to frank woodley, i can take no credit.

in other news, he accepted my facebook request very quickly and no, the girl in the pink dress is not his girlfriend. annoying how relieved i felt.

maths test today.
another C, no worries mate!

in other news, my feet are cold.

My name is written on his hand

I am seriously agreeing with leisha here.

I am a procrastinator, because I am pretending that time does not exist.

I am pretending that it doesn't matter what I do.

Desperately trying to convince myself that everything will be fine.

That I don't need to be afraid of my lack of ability to run my life.

But I am...

damn school sucks...

if i could go back and do it again

i feel like writing,but not my story.
so here we go...


Damn that freaking nokia tone....
'where are you, phone?'
'where the crap are you???'
fumble,fumble,fumble
clink,tap,bang

'there you are.'
'nguuuuhh'.

vision blurs as the back of my hand smudges yesterdays mascara.
or maybe the day before....
who gives a crap.

'Are you coming to school today?
Cos I don't know if I'm gonna bother sticking around if you're not.
I won't survive english without you :P.
You'll always be mine,
I love you, don't forget it.
Robbie'

'Okay okay, so he gives a crap'.
sniffle,sniffle,cough

bleeuurrgghhh...

god i feel like crap.

Hey,
Pay no mind, I am in bed drowning in my own snot.
not pretty, even english is preferable to looking at me right now.
and hearing me, god.
even home group would be better.
just.
love you too,
Alice'


Smack, phone on desk.

beep,beep,beep
vnnn,vnnn,vnnnn

'ngguuuhhhhhhhhhh!!!!'

'feel better!
and you would never be worse than english.
its not possible'

you're sweet, but im still snotty.

nguuuhh...sleeeeeeppp.





hmmm, i love it when you play with my hair.
its so nice.
do I smell chicken and sweet corn soup?

hang on, what??

'hey beautiful'
'hello you healthy bastard'

'well, its nice to see you too!'
'no its not, I look awful. And I don't even need to see me to know that I look awful.'

'you look beautiful. as always.'
'don't give me that shit' but I can't help but smile.

'shut up snotty, and drink.'
'but that m'eans I have to sit up!'

'oh shush and be grateful. some poor chinese woman at the golden dragon slaved over reheating that for at least four and a half minutes'
'oh hardy har. mmm, tastes like at least five minutes, you're spoiling me'

'only the best for my girl'
I smile,and relax into you as you hand me a tissue.



wanna know something sad?
I got keep writing that for a ridiculously long time.

Just call me Rosie Greeneyes.

Think of me, trying to hard to put you from my mind

Dear Stuff,
Dear last beer bottle into the fridge, I love you, you make me smile as you slide cosily into your position.
Much love,
<3glitter Dear people drinking only one of a type of beer that no one else likes I hate you, just drink the same beer as everyone else, k? Looking forward to not having to glass you in frustration, <3gliTter Dear self, You suck, you are not very good at remembering things or being organised. You really should use your diary, and get off your ass and do what needs to be done. You have parking practice, piano, slum survivor and a VOC studies assignment to do tomorrow. You do too many things. Stop. <3glitter Dear dreams, you are hurtful because you are happy and not true. You make me annoyed at myself for being half awake and deciding to stay in that dream place, cos it felt like pretty much all I wanted for a VERY long time. You make me sad and regretty feeling, because you have shown me that I still want what I used to want, ridiculous as it is. Ridiculous and non-existent, seeing I have built it up in my ivory tower of imagination. You make me sad, and afraid of heights. at least you did not torture me with blowflies. thanking you for minute mercies, <3glitter Dear Person, you suck. You are not, never will be and possibly never have been who I built you up to be. This is my fault. I don't care, you still suck. <3glitter Dear other person, you remind me so much of the first one that it is literally painful. you talk like he does, you have a jacket like he does, you have friends like his. You make fun of me like he does, but make it funny like he does. You deliver pizzas like he used to. i wonder if you drink as much as he does. i certainly hope not. Please do not pour your life down the drain even as he pours toxic liquids down his throat and i try I try so desperately to get his life back out of the drain, even though theres nothing anyone can really do but him. Please do not put yourself through what I hope so desperately is a phase. Please stay like him, but not him. Cos I will seriously go totally bonkers if your hair changes colour, you need glasses and start playing hockey. If you ever call me emo, I will undoubtedly snap and as we discussed this evening as I gritted my teeth and tried not to think about the other person, the laser shooting eye thing, meant to be a secret. Call me frenchy all you like (the beret was asking for it I guess), but don't call me emo. for both our sakes... This is random,I hardly know you, but still <3gliTter Dear Blogger, Stop taking out all my enters when I edit this post. And stop putting in labels i didnt want so I have to edit it again. You are frustrating and addictive, -sigh-

Bullshit Daydreams

I always feel older than i am, I wonder if it will match up at eighty.

It is very odd to think that at eighty, I may still be seeing and thinking in much the same way. I will still be me, my essence, just older. Strange to think that every second I am living , will one day be my past, will one day be 'the good old days', even now as they are 'the crappy youth days'. Every song I listen to will one day be strange, boring and old. Maybe they already are.

When I am forty, I will buy a best of the naughties mix and, remembering none of it, I will think to myself

'Surely this is not the life I lived...'

I've got a key

No matter how good today is, I will find a way to remember a better one and pine for it, even if there are none to pine for.

can'tyouseehowquicklythiswillalldripawayintomemory?