It's not the pale moon that excites me,

i cant write anymore.

life is sweet

so, I'm sitting on my couch, alone. Not even the cat. i kind of like it. i definitely like the feeling of typing on my computer again. listening to the chemical brothers and pretending i enjoy it, even though it sounds worse than dubstep to me. i know, they were the original, the beginning of dance, but progression is good, and im fuck off glad that genre progressed from this shit. uncultured 4 life.
i feel like i should get up and do things but at this point i am just happy chilling about on the couch, writing sweet nothings to myself and who ever else may read this.

suddenly i feel pretty hopeless and confused. off i go into a pit of happy lies.

not today

bit high, i must say. my T button wasnt working for a moment there and it was a pretty stressful activity.
made a few fascinating discoveries this evening. All of a sudden i feel extremely anxious and yet rather happy. its the strange feeling, i must say.
have been fairly boring lately. did a lot of washing, work my twenty hours, throw the cat at walls.
I LIE. i love the cat actually. she has become very snuggly and lovely. she still meows like a psycho and likes to get high, but at least she doesnt shit all over everything.
i feel like doing something quite drastic.

fuck, sometimes i wonder where my brain goes when i'm writing cooked shit about cats on this thing.
sometimes i like to sit and imagine looking at myself through the eyes of another person. it makes me feel strange and worried because my brain always starts thinking about how i must look retarded and the person is judging me. but thats just me i guess.

i should have a quick nap before bec gets here otherwise i will fall over and go to sleep while she's talking to me. and that would probably not make her happy. but then again im not alive to make other people happy.

my phone just told me i am over 100% on my data. i am ignoring it (bad idea) for some reason. i have spent so much in the last few days, its actually ridiculous. i need to work out that i must stop spending too much money on stupid amounts of unnecessary things to make sure other people are comfortable/happy.

i think inanimate objects are demons coming after me, and i get paranoid even thinking about the word "murder" (i've just thrown myself into anxious paranoia with that) but nonetheless, i am comfortable. linkin park is deafening me, and probably the neighbours as well, i can chinotto. in a moment of extreme dehydration i taught myself how to open bottles with a lighter. its amazing what lack of liquids can do ;D


metallica is quite tasty. im finding all thats odd dubstep and dance music too hard to listen to at the moment. i go into an odd trance and find it awkward and difficult to speak to people.
god theres something wrong with this. why am i writing still. clearly it is not good. clearly it is bad. it turns out im just sketchy as hell and really enjoying this chinotto. tastes like delicious. as per usual. sitting in the chair, just generally staying in one room. some things make me very happy. this is one of them. everythings sort of yellow and the fridge makes a comforting noise. weird i know, but sometimes when i am trying to go to sleep in the lounge, the fridge stops making that noise and suddenly i cant fathom sleeping because it feels very quiet. the fridge kills the quiet. when the quiet kills the fridge its all over.
i think the reason im enjoying this chinotto so much is it taste like delicious. i have always found chinotto to be a very weird drink. it doesnt really taste nice, but somehow it tastes nice. its very confusing. deceptive perhaps.
did you know nyan cat has an app. its called 'nyan cat : lost in space'. what the fuck? i almost dowloaded it and then thought better of it. downloading games at this point is out of the question. i have no money. and no brain it would seem. i just spent about thirty seconds staring dazedly into space, wobbling my head a little bit. well it felt like i was wabbling my head, but it might have just been sitting where it usually is, being happy. i have, at this point, completely lost track of what i was saying before and cant seem to be able to stop typing long enough to look up, read it and then work out what the fuck i was talking about.
explanation of the century. i bet you know exactly how i feel at the moment. i am typgint oo fast and am recoiling from my own ever-speedy fingers. there was a bit of a break in the speedy fingers while i found the hyphen. it took me a while. listening to some quality all american rejects. i feel like a douche saying that. maybe its because AMR are essentially a boy band and i associate boy bands with lame.
i just got really nostalgic for some reason. it was pretty intense. from listening to the bravery.
i sort of miss all my old friends. i miss working at the stirling. all the choices i have made up until this point have crippled me. i could be so much more than this but instead im just a highschool dropout with no qualifications and no direction. when is that ever a recipe for yummy cake. thats always,100% a recipe for shitty ass cake.
i hate shitty ass cake. i havent had to eat it in a while, and i dont fancy doing so right now.

throw me into the sea

i feel like shit. i feel like not doing anything ever again. speaking, or coming up with someting to say for that matter, is like hell right now. i dont want to eat my dinner, i dont want to go out and watch movies, i dont even really want to write. i wrote up my monthly expenditures, did a basic weekly shopping list. you know, things that seem productive but arent really in any way, shape or form.
i should do some cleaning, sweep the floor in the kitchen, clean up the bedroom, vacuum in the hall and scrub the bathroom, but me and my bald head cannot be fucked. i should take mums advice from last weekend. when you feel like shit, get up and move around. when you feel good, that's when you stay home and have lazy days. endorphins and shit.
even as i think about getting things done i feel happier and more like a can type fast. i still dont want to eat my dinner, but that's okay.
i need to buy kitchen things. tupperware, a food processed. beater. you know, the usual things that one dreams of. i need coffee. i need to not smoke anymore, even though it is so enjoyable.
i need to throw my face around, wear pretty things. just generally be exciting. i need to throw caution to the wind and blow bitches up.
i need to get a hold of myself and not just write words as they come to mind.
peace out, im off to move things around. love.

no body broke your heard

dear people,
you are all lovely.
now, there is nothing worse than the last hour of work. time is a shitstain on the face of humanity. i think i have said that a few times before, possibly in those exact same words. the brain, what a wonderful thing.
so, i have found myself in a mood. not a good mood, nota bad mood, but a waiting mood, in which i wait for things to happen with so much gusto its almost unbelievable.
very rarely do i ever have nothing to say, but it's one of those days. one of those bits of life where maggies brain is silent. it says nought but how happy i am.
which whilst a good thing, also leads to bad things because i must vent something. happy doesnt write for me, or draw, or do anything really. it just floats me through life on a cloud of indecision and carefree annoyingness.
i miss my friends. i want them to call me, or reply to my message. hah! the gods just smiled or something, because i just got a reply to my message. what a fluke.
sick of answering phones in my vegemite jumper. its not difficult, i just think think vegemite deserves more in life than answering phones.
mon mere seems quite keen on the idea of me leaving the homestead for bigger and slightly less better things.
Love her.

we stare at broken clocks, the hands don't turn anymore

work.
it's necessary, but i still find it boring. sitting around pretending that my job actually has some relevance. that i care about meeting notices and minutes and all the boring shit that makes up this gig.
i do care, i do.
i care because i get paid, and when i get paid i get closer to going away. that's how it is in my mind, although i spend my pay basically as soon as i get it.
ergh, no one cares aboutm oney. money can eat my shorts for all i care.
its only ten am, one hour into a working day here, and i almost have nothing left to do.
You would think i would always have activities to partake in, but until the mail gets here, i am a free birdy. free to fly where i so wish.
i left my inspector Poirot book at Jans house, which was possibly one of the most intensely unhappy moments of my life.

okay so more interesting topic.
i cant think of one.
thats enough, enough blathering and pointlessness.
i am going to go read things from two thousand and seven.
chow down.

i cant hold on when i'm stretched so thin

whaaat the fuckk,
seriously mate, i have no idea what i am trying to achieve by writing this sentence.
okay i shall be honest, that sentence had no ending, i started and then i blathered a few words worth of shit.
really need to get in the shower and BE CLEAN!!
cal just got home from dads, and is wandering around aimlessly in his work uniform, smelling of badness.
have to download all my music again because it got killed off itunes. its all good though. i have queens of the stone age going now, which makes me happy. stealing the 120 g ipod back of dom and quimbie. for shit its going to ruby for her birthday. that thing is mine and everyone else can suck my dick. yay,
With all my skill and dexterity i have found that it would take three days to listen to all the music i have already, and that is but a portion of what i am getting. thats good, i like to have diversity in my tunage.
so i have been very happy lately. am doing a trainee thing at unitcare, learning how to be a receptionist. its only four hours a day, which is a good thing. i am actually enjoying it a fair bit. its pretty boring at times, but i like typing and organising things, so i guess its well suited to me.
eating pretty badly, but i bought a book about eating today, which is all very exciting, and wonderful and business.
ergh, you know shits fucked when you're buying books about healthy eating. i will roll with it. i'd rather be a sad fuck with a book about dieting than a fat fuck with cellulite. i think thats pretty reasonable.
spending a little more time at home which is sort of good, sort of bad. i dont really know what i am trying to achieve at the moment. but i have always liked rolling along with nothing heaps important to do, so you know.
i sort of want to move out, but i really dont think i should whilst i dont have the means. who am i kidding, of course i have the means, i just really cant be fucked doing my own washing. this is why we have parents.
stuff with mum is way better since i started actually being more honest with her. certain things have remained on the down low, but i figured we're more likely to get along if i treat her properly. and it is working.
certain other people are pissing me off.
i dont like having to have days booked with people. what the fuck happened to catching up when the time was right.

quick vent.
dont fucking talk to me about immaturity when all i was trying to do was do right by you because you cant find it in yourself to be happy for me. immaturity is you. you when you act like the victim every fucking day, when you complain about how your life is going nowhere but flake on all the things that might help you become more than you are. immaturity is an inability to further yourself.
but whatever. i dont think you realise it but you are the very fucking definition of immature.
so shut the fuck up and try fixing yourself before spewing your shit at me.

The ocean rolls us away

Bonjour my sweet reader of stuff.
So I have been superbly boring as of late and have not been partaking in the sadness and general depression that comes with writing. This has resulted in a complete inability to type properly on my phone. Also I have no idea what to write. I am passing time on a bus with a whole shitload of corporate fucks, pretending I'm not going to be a receptionist for the rest of the day. Dont know what sort of mood I was in when I last wrote, and to be honest I dont really want to know.

As of late all my brain can tell me is that I am a fucking retard. I mean, I am a wonderful retard, but a retard nonetheless. Perhaps I give people chances because I hope they will do the same for me, but I'm not really fucking happy acting like best friends when I want to claw their fucking faces off. I will be honest I want to remove them and begin again.
Shut up Maggie.

You are my mind

Yeah just realized how fucking unbearable I can be.
Sometimes I decide no one is anything and then suddenly they are nothing and now I am freaking out. Go fucking cook. I want everything to be better but the only thing fucking shit up is me. So sick of myself right now but for some reason I just can't fucking deal hey. I'm pissed off. I'm one of those idiots that people have to tiptoe around right now. Fuck.

So we bent our spoons and howled at the moon to see what science replaced

And so it begins.
Nothing really, but so it begins.
Im sort of feeling like something.
Okay so I shall make a small splash as I jump in.
This is dedicated to someone, someone who shall know who he is and might be scared by this but I'm rolling with it because I want shut to stop, just be quiet for a second and sit.

Dear Henry,
There's a hole in your bucket, and I have the straw that you née to fox it with. Well I think I do. In the end it's up to you to decide, but I'll assume on my couch.
You are different. You never cease to surprise me with your general 'ness. An all truth and honesty I am fan. So I sit here in mOunt barker having left your house little more than an hour ago and I am so very tired.
Back to Henry. Your face, whilst prickly and sometimes disturbing on many levels, is lovely. It makes my face smile, and then your face smiles and I feel like giving up all hope for Christmas. I think you are light and before I knew you I think maybe all the windows in my brain were closed. And very slowly I suspect you opened them with your little rays of intelligence and then started making the insides of my head warm.
I know I sound like a nut job, but it's what I do best so I will go with the flow that is mentioned so often and float until I find the little fishes.
When I am so with you it's like a massive black hole time warp. I'm never sure what the light is like outside but it actually doesnt matter because really I don't want to be outside. You don't make weird comments about the fact that I eat cold pizza in the early hours and chain-smoke like a chimney and like the smell of beer. You have an excellent way of speaking and you can actually have a conversation with me even when I don't finish my sentences an jar say, 'hmmm, yes'. My eyes don't get sick of your face and to be honest if I could make you pocket sized I would. You would be my pocket protected scientist. I would dress you like a dolly ;)
Anyway enough of my suspicious ramblings.
All I have now is an order. Don't make a run for it, because right noe in my mind you are near perfect and I don't want that to change :)

The confusion in her eyes says it all, she's lost control

So I'm freaking out.
Dont ask why, when or how, I'm just freaking out.
Not even, I just wanted to freak you out. I've had one hours sleep in the last twenty four hours. I feel really sick and I have just been throwing up. Now I'm in bed with two blankets and a jumper and I am burning up like hell. When I try taking off the jumper or a quilt I freeze. Can't get comfortable, can't sleep. I feel like someone has trampled my chest an every time I breathe in I get shooting pains down the left side of my body.
So I am freaking out, now that I really think about it this probably isn't good. I'll just breathe ad get through it. If I freak out it will be worse. All I can think is how much I hope this has gone away by tomorrow. If it ruins my weekend I will not be fucking happy. Not at all.
So fucking tired, but I can't sleep because I'm so fucking uncomfortable. I have to work tomorrow, which means being up at six am. It's not fucking fun. My stomach is fucking tying itself up in knots, I feel like absolute suit. Why now.

"his eyes blazed like fire, somehow I pity those misguided men"

Fuck I'm sick of waking up at ridiculous hours. I'm getting cramps all down one side of my body because I have been in the same position for too long and I cant turn over. I had a terrible dream. You know hoe you never die in dreams? I didn't die but i was being tortured by some madman.
It was enough to make mr scared to go back to sleep, so now I'm laying in bed and feeling like crap because this evening was just one mad fuck up, and I'm pretty sure I Aldo offended someone extremely importantto me and now I have no idea what to do. I just want to go back to sleep but I fucking can't and I hate everything. Or something. This is all :/

What they had would never fade away

Very few things are more dull than what I am doing right at this moment. Sitting on a bus looking out the window and just about everything I see is grey. Grey sky, grey sidewalks, grey buildings, there even seems to be an excess of grey cars out. It's so grey every other colour is getting smothered. Shit , is the grass grey? I cants tell anymore. Whatever's wrong with everything today, I'm a fan. Grey is possibly one of my favorite colors. If it actually is a color, which after black and white, is debatable. This is the sort of weather for bright red coats and yellow umbrellas. It's for speedy adventures to the supermarket to get hot chocolate. It's the weather during which you give up trying to see out the windows and resign yourself to curling up and watching terrible films with whoever is caught at your house. It's possibly my favorite weather when I am closed up in my house.
But with the prospect of walking home through it I am way less enthusiastic. For the first time In months I am armed with an umbrella though, so that makes me a little happier. I just found a pair of Shoes that rocked my world from the left to the right, and i am going to buy them tomorrow because it has been a long time since I wasted my money on amazing footwear. I seem to be fairly busy the last few weeks and I'm not sure how I feel about it to be completely honest, it seems to be a little stressful. There's really only one thing that I am doing this weekend that I really feel like doing. Before and after that I am way less keen, but as I love some of my friends I'll roll with it and hopefully drown myself in a Spa by getting so drunk I pass out without warning. Bec would think I was joking
Huh, I should do that to her, just to scare her :)
Anyone who might be walking down the sidewalk next to this here bus right now will inevitably get totally Saturated. I laugh at their misfortune.

"What a dangerous way to live!" she said, sounding utterly delighted

- sliding down half moon hill in cardboard boxes.
- playing with strange containers that said 'WARNING' on them because we thought they were nuclear bombs.
- having flawless logic.
- Sitting on your roof watching the sunrise and not caring about anything
- marching down your road with lanterns in the dead of night, chanting in tongues
- terrorizing that weird kid who lived across from you because she killed her kitten by mopping up milk with it
-that pair of purple shorts you always used to wear
- singing 'the midas touch' when your mum was hiding in the tree above us and we thought she was a monster. best defense strategy ever.
- making up lame parodies of songs like 'boulevard of broken dreams'
- bums in the wardrobe
- the gutless guy at your uncles farm
- the music under the floorboards
- going out sailing at clayton so we could listen to Nova without getting in trouble
- Best death 2004, the sand dune, and that weird english guy who was looking for specimens
- good ol' salt and vin behind woolworths.
- that suspicious cream we tipped all over the trolleys
- citric acid in the baked beans
- reading your mums diary on the DL and hating everything because of it
- Jenny with the bell
- losing your phone in your neighbours back garden and having to use our epic shaldeedal skills to reclaim it whilst also looking like mad sus cunts
- sleeping in the cubby house and being more scared of bogans than spiders.
- having MAD meetings in the loft at 448 MBR
- ELIJAH. no one can forget.
- being the only kids ever who played ding dong dash and then wondering why we got caught.
- the rabbit skin hat that you fed with pepper.
-sleeping on the couches outside and then licking the ice off them in the morning.
- wondering why you seemed to thrive on cat food
- the sacred ibis' on the current dick smith site.
- when having a chat with dad was the worst thing that could happen to anyone
-friday night: bips and bubbles, and saturday lolly day.
- combining our moneys to get more lollies and then getting in trouble for eating chewing gum because it lasted for too long
- adventuring in to the stormwater drains and then freaking out because there were quite clearly sewer mutants out to get us
- raging around the streets of mount barker with spritz, breaking bottles in the Kmart parking lots in the middle of the night, because we were fearless bastards.
- talking about pete wentz even though i had no idea who he was at the time, and i stick by the fact that he is weird looking and i would not go there ever.
- the funeral for the ant, and when you decided he needed o be free and threw his dead body dramatically into the vegetable garden.
- convincing em to give her characters bad names when we played games.
- tommy nutty and jinglebells
- painting our desks with harlequins because that was the thing to do.
- the friday night longest chip competition.


these are but a few of the epic things i remember doing. i want my biffle back, even though we're both to self concious to do any of that shit.
it would be nice.

Cease to resist, giving my goodbye drive my car into the ocean you'll think I'm dead, but I sail away on a wave of mutilation.

Holy zombie Jesus. Two posts in one night? It's a miracle. Praise the lord and all that. So two twenty in the morning, still awake, trying to be me without anyone else. Thinking about walking home, but not too keen because there's a high chance the door will be locked and it's raining a lot.
I feel like um, creating something. I feel like inspiring myself to find something new out. To ponder myself into a new state of wonderment. I feel like feeling. You know what blows my mind. When I cut all the sad away and there's nothing but happy, I feel like a little bit of life disappears. I think the truth is sometimes I like feeling like crap. It gives me a reason to be, a reason to speak. Otherwise I feel like nothing is worth saying anything about. In all truth happiness doesn't fill me like sadness does. It doesn't take everything away, erase every other thought in my head and create the same vortex in my brain that sadness does. I'm scared that I have become accustomed to feeling bad and now i can't be properly.
Perhaps sad is my happy. I don't know anymore if I can define my own sadness as a bad thing. When I am my happiest. I have just been sad. Brains are fucked up and I want a cigarette.

I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship

I'm in the hood, as per usual, wondering why I sit and watch tv all night and do nothing all day. The need to get my shit together is calling.
Thisweekend I should be house sitting in moana. Where is moana you wonder? Me too. I winder why. I wonder why a lot as of late. Actually that's a lie, I'm thinking less and less as I float along on this road we call life. Think I like not thinking. Contradictory I know, but thats how I roll.
I feel that I am wasting my time. Whilst life is a joy and all that, I am becoming less and less enthusiasts the more I think of doing things. Sometimes I wonder, more as of late, how I am going to end up. Now is the future for me, but perhaps I am not being proactive enough. It's old, no one wants to hear about the struggles in the life of a young lazy fuck, but I find that it is all that I really think of. Sometimes I think about turning thirty and murdering someone so I can go to jail an not have to make any more choices but what is made for me by whoever controls people in there. Perhaps have some fun with it and become a mad drug lord and murder people and things.
I'll be honest, in this situation I am mildly worried Because I am actually enthusiastic about the idea.
My brain sometimes makes me want to bury my head in the sand.
I don't know.
I really dont know

i never know what's coming, forever fascinated

im at the point where i just really dont know if i can be fucked.
im really fucking tired, i had a shit day, no sleep last night and i just feel like a giant fuck.
its like i've walked one whole big fat fuck off circle, and i am literally back at square one. took me a whole year to realise that i actually wanted what was happening. and now i have to work my way back to where i was when i fucked myself over.
and see im so unsure about everything, but i invested myself in it fully, and now i have to deal with it.
im just so tired all the time, which in all reality is my own fault, but i really am.
i tried going to sleep early the other night, couldn't, even though i was tired as fuck.

It's seven in the morning and I still haven't slept. I have basically been lying here for an hour now, an it's just not happening. I'm kicking myself for being such a dumb fuck, and I want to kick other people for the same reason. I'm so not psyched for the shitstorm that will inevitably begin when I get home tomorrow. Fuck I would care so much less if I wasn't a part of this fucking crap. This is so stupid. I keep fucking volunteering to be the idiot who keeps the fucking secrets.

I should have said something to someone , maybe then I wouldn't be in this position. I'm so tired I can't even fucking think. I hate being lied to.
I just want to go to sleep but my brain is not letting me. I want this crap to be over already. Worst timing ever.
And I should have known. Both times I should have fucking known shit would end badly. Like it was fucking obvious from the beginning and I just ignored it because I wanted to be the one that didn't fuck people over. I shouldn't have been so fucking stupid. I'm not, but I act like it. Because I need some stupid validation for my existence. Every single time I do something like this I end up in the middle of shit that shouldn't even concern me. And it's always because I want to feel like someone wants me. I don't seem to care who, or why, I just seem to need some fucking... I don't even know.
And then I make it about myself when shit finally does go down.
Honestly this should be a fucking thing about how worried I am about Dom but instead all I can think about is me.
Great.

yes I've made mistakes, but life doesn't come with instructions.

i'm looking for inspiration, but everything is quite nondescript, and the post cards i picked up this morning are in the glove box of the car. i can't be bothered going out there just to stare at them until i feel something other than bored.
I'm at work, scanning things from the seventies and pretending i care about strata Corps whilst instead blogging because this can be seen as my lunch time if that is what i so wish for.
so it turns out i have no idea what to write.
i find myself talking about nothing lately. like not in terms of complaining. i literally have spent a number of evenings blathering absolute crap lately. it's sort of nice because it doesn't involve any effort, but im missing getting deeply into the nitty gritty of life, and fucking people's minds with questions.
i think i need to see Annie to partake in these shenanigans. last time i saw her she was wearing a pillowcase.
i miss the days of potato sack dresses and chili juice. my computer just froze, which sort of makes my job pretty hard.
ah, all is well once again. i realized again that i grit my teeth whilst i work, and my jaw is seriously suffering.
I must go in to see Dominic at work today as i must get my sim replaced and my plan transfered. i may or may not have commandeered his iPhone. i feel okay about it because he went eight grand over whatever cap he was on, and now he's busy paying it off, so he can't even use that phone if he tried.
the keyboard I'm using makes a really loud clicking noise when i type, so everyone keeps looking at me like I'm a sus cunt, which i sort of am, because I never do any work and i get paid a fair bit of money for it all.
Anyhow, the other night i was having some time, with some people, and i realized that as a friend, i am pretty sucky. I buy people things and I clean for them and give them food and money and stuff, and all that makes it sound like I'm a pretty decent friend, but apparently not. i can understand that maybe what i do isn't the bestest way to show someone how much they mean to me, but at the same time that's how i do it. When shit gets serious, i do my best, but sometimes that's just not good enough. Oh well.

i can't afford to care

i can't fucking concentrate on anything.
this one person keeps fluttering through my mind. i want to hit myself, get it out. i know this will only end in me feeling like crap again. what is wrong with me?
self loathing? i dont know. only time will tell.
i feel content, but at the same time, something i can't fathom is ripping apart my insides. i feel like my stomach is tying into knots all the time. i can't talk to anyone. every bit of concentration is completely devoted to one thing. why does my mind always obsess like this? i can convince myself of anything, but this...this is a whole other level of crazy maggie business.
i set my mind on something, and i get it, no matter what. sometimes i think maybe i should get a brain transplant. sometimes i wish i could just change.
i should write a strategy.
if i write it enough times, i should remember it every time i break a rule. who has rules for their life? what sort of psychotic person writes out everything that's okay, and highlights everything that's wrong in red?
i've realised lately that my life is strategically designed in a certain way. almost subconsciously, i make it so that what other people see is only what i want them to see.
i dont know how to make everything the way it was before. i used to be a fucking wreck, all the time, and now, i keep it all in my head.
maybe that's a good thing.
but i felt like more of a person before. i feel like a husk now. like im struggling to even resemble a real person.

i dont want another breakdown again.
that feeling i had was something i never want to go back to. i wanted to kill everyone. i didnt even know what made me so angry.
just thinking about it makes me cringe.
i can't believe i was like that.
i realized a long time ago that i can't let my happiness hang on other people, because other people always leave. its depressing and i wish it wasnt so, but that seems to be the way it goes.
unfortunately despite having learnt this lesson on a number of occasions, i still let it happen.

im not going out without a fight

okay so after a tiring and annoying day, i have found myself sitting in bed listening to really bad music, wondering when someone is going to get to my house with something fun.
i hate fridays so much, if friday was a person i would punch it so hard. it would literally end up in the middle of china.
nah not even.
okay so i am possibly the most boring person i have ever met. i literally have no point in life. I really dont know what i am even trying to write about right now. every time i start a post, i sit there and try and thing of inspired things to say, then i realise im stupid, and i dont do anything. its really quite depressing.

he left no time to regret,

so, lets not throw abuse around willy nilly, but some people are just unbearable.
i occasionally wonder why i speak to people that annoy the hell out of me, and then i realize that if I don't, im back in my own mind, which turns out to be a pretty depressing place. I'm supposed to be cooking dinner tonight, but for some reason it's only four thirty, so i still have a little time to kill before i make things happen in the kitchen.
i feel that life could so a lot less...
fuck this. i literally have nothing to say. i sit and think, and only one thing goes through my mind, but its not something i wish to write down. its been like this for days.
im so not a fan.
i wish i wasn't so single minded when it came to certain things.
im fascinated to see where this one takes me. nowhere good if what everyone else says is any indication.

WAIT,
i do have something. maybe its something i've said a billion times, but i cant say enough times that i like my thoughts to come around more than once.
why is everyone so obsessed with blaming other people for the shit they have to deal with. the amount of times i have seen people blaming the person that just broke up with them, or their parents, or whoever, for the shit they're going through. its ridiculous.
i don't understand what is so difficult to grasp. everything you feel, is your own fault. people dont realize that we actually have the ability to turn things off in our minds. its not impossible, its probably not the best thing to do, but instead of boring everyone else's ears of with blame, why the fuck dont they just take responsibility. maybe i have no heart, maybe my idea's are stupid, but my god, some people are real twats.

all i've got is what you didnt take

i feel depressed.
i feel like my insides are being eaten up. i should really just not talk to some people. give myself time to rationalize everything in my mind and detach myself from the situation. but i dont.
i throw myself right in there, and ask stupid questions that i dont want to know the answers to.
i always hope i am going to hear what i want to hear, but the funny thing is that i never do. you would think that by now i would have learned that everything is fucked, and i am just going to hear something that will throw me into a deep pit of depression, much alike the one i am in now.

all i want to do is be more like me, and be less like you

okay so back to my sudden lack of writers block.
not that this can be classed as actually writing.
but still, i will go with what i have said, and continue.
i spent this evening talking to three people, and my god it was so confusing.

now i am talking to one, and listening to the bravery, trying to work out what to do with myself. every decision i make seems to end up with failure. someone sad very wisely to me this evening, that no decision i can make will spell disaster. unfortunately there are so many other words that describe bad things. it could spell any one of those words, and im fucked.
and now i seem to be offending people left right and centre because apparently that is what i am good at.
ooh, its time to exchange stories.
im out.

the place where i make no mistakes, the place where i have what it takes.

oh lordly, i am so good at procrastination. less than two minutes ago i was diligently reading through notes about Rupert Maxwell Stuart, and now they are cast aside on my bed and i am writing about absolutely nothing.
i realized i have changed a lot in the last few weeks. you have no idea how many posts i have begun, trying to complain about how terrible my life is, and i get about two paragraphs in and just delete it all. I haven't posted in a while because of that. it is so hard to find things to say when i can't complain.
surprisingly enough, there is only one person that can cheer me up as of late, and he is possibly one of the most annoying people i have ever met. if it were easier to see the good in people, he would come off as amazing, but it's not, so it's taken me a little while to get past the pretentious outside, and get to the bit that is actually bearable.
i think i like being able to eventually work my way through the terrible outside of someone's personality and understand them a little better.
it's funny because nothing he can say really offends me, maybe because he doesn't mean it, maybe because for the first time, i have met someone that i don't care what they think of me.
It's very unusual for me, but i like it.
in other news, i am leaving school, hopefully at the end of this term. i am going to go and do my apprenticeship. i don't really care whereabouts, but i am going to do it, and finish it, and to be honest, this time i am way more positive than i was before.
i think it might be partially because i know what to expect. i think for the rest of my life i will always have a hatred for applying for new jobs, and going in to interviews, but if i can get through that part, i should be all right.
I always say weird things in interviews, and i'm never sure what i should say, but i think eventually people get the point of what i am trying to say. plus i don't always spin myself as a wonderful person.
i think maybe it will be different now.
mostly because i hardly even know what i like anymore.
i have learned to think a bit more before i speak though. on Monday i have to go and speak to a teen psychologist called Fiona about...well i don't really know what i am supposed to say when i go there, but i intend to talk her ears off, if i can bring myself to.
anyhow, i should off go, and finish this boring ass assignment, even though i have already got a zero for it. i am hoping my teacher will take it late because i haven't been there, but i doubt it.
i am going to fail the class anyway because i never did the oral.

fish

okay so im over feeling like crap
i have adopted the Bell technique. emotionally distance yourself from everything. get away from it. pull a callum and stop talking to it. seems to work for him, but then again he can read.
only because he steals my laptop to do so. oh for when life was a s simple as whether or not one was going to the pool the next day. life is now just on ebig whirling mass of confusion.

read the things other people write and suddenly i wish i wasn't myself anymore.
i wish i was smart, and interesting, and i wonder why i don't just step in front of a train.
and then i remember i am awesome.
i can't press enter at the end of every sentence becuase i hate it when people do that. one semtence is not a paragraph people, get it int your head. not that i write in paragraphs anyway, but if i were to, they wouldnt be but a sentence long. emotionally disconnect. go two work, earn oney, be cool. fuck you all.
xxx\

okay so some people really are fucking hateful. i want to punch them so hard. i feel dirty right now just from talking to it.
i was perfectly fine and happy and then my bubble was popped by a sledgehammer with a sharp tip. the sledgehammer of insufferable bitchiness.
i hate everyone right now. but most of all this one, foul mouthed little fuck.
god i have to stop going away now.

swimming in the smoke

so, i am sitting watching masterchef, which is a nice change from cougar town, which i have been watching for about two nights straignt. i love it though, so funny. i am so going to live in a cul de sac when i am a grown up. haha, grown up. i love being young enough to say that still. i am pretty grown up already. but i act like a little kid.
lately i have felt like utter crap. ever since i realised that i can't just talk about my problems left right and centre i have been bottling up, and its making me feel worse and worse. and when i finally think maybe it's okay to say something about how terrible i feel, i find myself absolutely unable to say anything at all.
its terrible.
some people have an ability to cheer me up, and then i end up reading over our conversations over and over, and then finally, i die a little because all i want is to talk to them again.
Facebook isnt working on becs computer either, so im still fucked.
inspiration isn't here tonight. i feel empty, like a giant balloon. i feel like i'm going to float away.
i know if i try to some giant anvil of feeling will thump down on my head again. why is it that i have the ability to cheer other people up, but when it comes to myself i just can't.
now i am just complaining for the sake of it.

the humans are dead

i wish, that the world really would end. while i sleep tonight.
I'm sick of feeling the way i do. i want to hit myself for being so...impressionable. When did i stop being able to tell people to just go fuck themselves.
i hate myself.
so ready to um...fuck off into nothingness.

did you get a good lawyer?

so for some odd reason i am a huge fan of Amy Winehouse, and apparently i am into sleep as well. It's five in the afternoon and i know that i could happily go to sleep and have trouble waking up tomorrow.
Lately sleep seems like the only activity i really want to partake in. I tire myself out all day trying to match up with other people, and when i finally get home, i get in to bed and doze of by six thirty. i can't bring myself to enjoy conversing with people for more than ten minutes.
I ate a shitload of pasta just before, and i would like to ask latina fresh a qquestion.
IS IS IN YOUR JOB DESCRIPTION TO STICK TOGETHER? all i wanted was a reasonably sized mouthful, but instead i got five pieces in one giant lump with terribly dispersed cheese and red sauce that had olives in it.
WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO ACHIEVE LATINA FRESH. failure. because you've done it.
i will never eat it again.
also, i need to stop being so mean. mental note to future maggie, if you are still a mean whore you have to punch yourself in the face. YOU KNOW YOU HAVE TO. seriously, think back to writing this, and how serious your face is right now. honest to god, i am savoring the moment now so you definitely will not forget how absolutely serious i am.
also, do you still like amy winehouse. I am curious.

you have no hope, because i belong to the hurrican

so i have been sitting around for the last few days, imagining. i can't even say what i was thinking about, i was just imagining the different ways my life could have played out, and it left me feeling empty and unsatisfied.I with i could do something remarkable, but I'm incredibly average.
I feel like i am sinking into normality. I don't want to conform. I don't want to be the same as everyone else.
I wear glasses to look smart and throw big words like 'Reciprocate' around. I googled reciprocate, i don't even think it is a word. googled isn't a word either, but it should be. some people are so foolish.
Anyhow, back to my original point. i am wondering, and thinking about how i can change. It's completely ridiculous, not even the prospect of death could make me change. I'm so set in my ways, but when i think about it i don't even know what those ways are. i think about what i believe in and suddenly my mind is sucked into this giant black hole, and faith suddenly seems pointless. I'm one of those people who hates racism but laughs when people pay out Asians. I defend Christianity but i can't bring myself to actually believe it when it really matters.
I don't even know. I was speaking with my father the other day. We both kept trying to convince each other that we were right. I kept asking him why, if god is so holy and righteous, did he make an earth full of living people with emotions and then fuck us all over. what made him think making us tiptoe around every choice just so we could spend eternity in heaven would be a fun idea. if he cares about us all so much, why does he make us search for him, and who is he to tell us that we're not good enough. I hate dad a little bit because, well.
For instance if Julia Gillard had legalized gay marriage dad would have fought against it. he would have caused a horrible raucous. it's funny because he expects me to just lay down and seek the motherfucking lord, when i think that if god was a person, he would be a fucking terrible person. who has the gall to create a world, with the ability to do anything, and then blame all the hurt and suffering on the people he created, when he could stop it all in the blink of an eye. I won't follow someone like that. how can someone be so faithful, and know that other people aren't going to have a bit of it.
How can dad walk around knowing that according to his belief, me and mum and Dominic and Callum are all going to hell. how can anyone do that. He said he thought he was happy before he was converted but then god peeled away the layers and he realized there was a great big gaping hole underneath everything.
God peeled away what? he fucking peeled away our family. Good work god, I'm fucking proud.

The sky above...something

I'm so angry right now.
I'm going to create an elaborate hoax here.
this girl, let's call her Sally. Sally is stupid and annoying, but there's a boy who is in love with her. his name is Clancy. and he has a sister called Janine.
Janine just found out that Sally has been lying to Clancy about the fct that she is 'dying'. Sally isn't dying. Sally has a perfectly manageable problem. Janine is scared that Sally is going to fuck Clancy over because of this huge lie because she doesn't fully comprehend the effect it has. or maybe she does, and is just a spiteful bitch who will do anything to get what she wants. anyhow Clancy is blindly in love with Sally, to the point where Janine is sure he would do anything to her. Janine knows the truth about what Sally is doing but can't possibly say anything to Clancy because he wouldn't believe her, and nothing can be said to Sally because Sally will tell Clancy and Clancy will get angry at Janine.
Janine is hating life. Janine wants to find Sally and shove a pole through her neck. she wants to find Clancy and pump the truth into him. she wants Sally gone, and Clancy to be himself again. she wants to think it isn't her own personal agenda. ad far as she can tell, she. has reason, but there is that underlying fear that maybe she just doesn't want her brother to go yet. Janine knows that he can't be allowed to go yet because the path he is on is not good
I hate everything

alpha box & dice

to begin I would like to brig to everyone's attention that Alpha Box & Dice is by far the coolest place I think I have ever been to. it has a particularly nice ambience. I would go so far as to say unbeatable.
in other news, we had a lovely evening last night. it was full of merriment and amusement. just general loveliness. while I am not a destroyer of all things wine, it was yummy.

I'm Drawing the line, the line saves my soul

oh my goodness. blogger was unavailable for like, the whole of yesterday and I think it was the hardest day of my life. not really.
anyhow, I was thinking last night, I would rather have bad dreams than good. at least when I wake up from a bad dream I feel relieved. waking up from a good dream just makes the harshness of reality that much more depressing.
but that's just me. it's Xavier's birthday this evening and I'm in dire need of life and godliness.
for someone that was infuriated yesterday because she couldn't write, I feel remarkably uninspired today. could be because i suck, could also be because I'm awesome.
I think seeing people will be good for my state of mind. I need to write a letter now, so I should get going.
peace.

wretches and kings, we the animals take control

I'm basking in the debatable glory of Linkin Park's new album and watching some ridiculous show that well... it makes me feel like stabbing myself in the eye with a needle. I have photography tomorrow. it makes my insides churn with hatred.
I dont't know why but I have never been able to deal with art subjects in which I can't make personal changes to my work. it's not creative if it's a structured working plan. creativity can't be forced and I feel like forcing is the only thing that they can fathom.
it's a miracle. it pisses me offf no end.
it makes my head hurt just thinking about it. I've eaten about a ton of concentrated sugar tonight, and while I usually go a bit psychotic with that much I feel lazy and depressed right now, which to be completely honest, is all I wanted for Christmas. im definitely way less psyched for Xavier's birthday this weekend than I expected I would be. for some reason the prospect of seeing certain people is killing my soul. I don't think I'm down with a whole evening of being given the cold shoulder.
in other, way less fascinating news, certain people are stupid. me for one. general life is getting the better of me. I always feel anxious and I'm getting paranoid over the tiniest things. and i'm like, permanently tired. I've been going to sleep at seven for the last three nights and when I wake up, I have troubl convincing myself that my dreams were just dreams. I woke up at four thirty this morning wondering if I had even been to sleep.
it sucks even more because my dreams are ten times better than reality so I start each day with a little cloud of dissatisfaction over my head. it's difficult to believe that it could be a change in weather doing this to me but for now that's what it's about.
being happy right now is like going to he'll and building a snowman. fucking ridiculous.
everything seems to be unbelievably repetitive. school is foul, I hate my teachers and every time I even attempt to achieve something my whole state of mind goes downhill. I say no to pushing through. it's my turn to wallow in depression.

your time has come to be erased.

I hate people who are unreliable. i mean, what's the point in life if you are useless. im all for bailing at the last minute because you need to feel empowered, but if you do that every fucking time, then you're a fucking cunt.
i will be frequently dropping the F-bomb, because if i was a nice fucking person i would still be waiting in the fucking rain.
Yeah its fucking cool, you can call me half an hour after you're supposed to be there and tell me you'll be another hour, and then fuck that, you'll be three hours, and of fucking course i will still be there.
IDIOT.
i mean, what sort of fucking downy cunt thinks that's going to work? i literally hate everything right now.
I hope you enjoy fucking around in the rain on your own dipshit.

everything is exactly right when i walk around here drunk every night

so, i greet one thirteen with open arms and itchy eyes, to the sound of St. Ides Heaven attempting to play from my iphone. Callum took my laptop to read a book on, so i am using Trinity.
Coincidentally, Trinity doesn't have any of my music on her because she's full of photos. im in that mood, that i occasionally get into, where i want to just go dander about and explore places.
even if it's just down the street. some sort of adventure is in order i believe.
someone should have punched me last night, when i decided that sleep was not necessary. i should have know. I should probably have just said okay when threatening with being thrown out the window. that would have taught me.
i realised just then that i hate violins with a deep seeded passion. i don't think a more shrill and ear piercing instrument has even been constructed. excluding the recorder, but that can't really even be classed as an instrument.
every time i listen to Flogging Molly i want to go and fall drunkenly into a ditch. i don't even have to be drunk, i just have to fall into the ditch in a drunken manner. not that i often act drunk and fall into ditches while listening to them.
so i guess i should choose some form of TOPIC, and then stick to it.
wouldn't that be nice hahahahaha.

so perhaps I shoils explain what's actually happening.
I stayed up all night discussing general life and godliness with a person that shall remain unnamed by his own request. name dropping is strictly forbidden, or so I hear.
anyhow, this morning I ate a green apple on an empty stomach on the way to work which I should have known was a bad idea.
my adventure into the bowels of hell (aka UnitCare Services) was short lived. I created an elaborate hoax involving a student mentor, a school forum and short notice to bail out fifteen minutes after I arrived. sadly, when I got up to exit the building I found that familiar bitter taste in my mouth and found myself pissbolting to the bathroom to throw up afore mentioned green apple.
the joys of life didn't end there though! no, they continued down the road as I walked to the bus. I guess you can't really call it walking so much as violently shivering to the point where I was actually making progress towers the bus stop.
feeling empty and a little bit depressed as I walked down rundle mall, I had a fucking awesome idea that I ought to go to McDonalds and eat a ham and cheese croissant. this also ended up in the sink of a public bathroom
now I go home to sleep.
pleAse.

your stuck in my mind like a thorn on a vine

argh!
so tired, you have no idea.
I was just laying in fetal position on the toilet floor wondering why i didn't just pass out then and there. It was strange really, because i knew in the back of my mind that there was an apple in the sanitary displosal unit. I knew this because i put it there about five minutes before the urge to be sick overtook me. Unfotunately i couldn't stay curled up on the floor forever, so i had to get up and prite back to my desk and write this instead of working.
another unfortunate event was the fact that as soon as i waas upright, i felt like throwing up again.
as i do now, just because i thought about throwing up. good god, something else please!
every time i close my eyes i feel like i'm leaving my own body and drifting into nothingness. i just want to sleep so much. it's freaking unbelievable.
usually i get that good old bit of adrenaline that keeps me going till about midday, but apparently not today, which is troublesome. my eyes feel like dinosaurs.
old and leathery. like little balls of averageness. in my face.
im slowly losing the mental skills needeed to actually write this. seriously that last sentence took me about five minutes.
man. why am i so fucking stupid.
I'm going home.

what kind of fuckery is this?

so im sitting in the dark, downloading all of Pantera's albums at one go, contemplating watching the first season of The Hills. I think a large part of the reason that i like that show is because i live in the Hills.
I just did probably the hugest thing of my life.
i sent in an application to work at Frankie Magazine in Sydney. Rowena Grant Frost just left to film the next season of her show, so they need someone to write rants.
and well, who is better at writing rants than me. There's a high liklihood that i will be rejected, but why not get all up in there and give it a shot.
I love that magazine so much, it is like, my one and utmost dream to work at it. they are so...not cool. that's what i love about it though. it actually has a little bit of substance and creativity. I wish they weren't a bi-monthly magazine. they should be like, weekly. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.
/dies/

there is no night time, it's just a phase

a little fake rose

okay so as a first note, i ahve decided that i hate tumblr with a fiery passion. so now, i have also decided that i am going to stop stealing pictures from other people's blogs and tumblr (which is what i have been doing) and start using my own pictures because i don't suck at taking them and yeah.
so... I have realized that I should carry a notebooks around so I can write down my people watching escapades. this morning, on the bus back to Adelaide from Albert park, I drove past so many weird places and things. after halfway inn and black knight erotica I sort of lost track. anyhow, I realized, at eight in the morning on a Sunday, that I don't want to start driving everywhere. busses are so great. people don't seem notice that they do it, but everyone watches who gets on when the bus stops, and we all quietly judge the new arrivals. and unless they have a book, they join our ranks and watch the next set of people get on. you don't get that sort of quality people watching in a car.
in other equally as boring news, I think I have fallen in love with Elliott Smith. he is very Ben folds-esque, but just better. I never thought I'd say that someone trumped the lyrical genius of Ben folds, but there it is. Elliott smith shits all over him. actually, Ben folds is playing at re entertainment centre soon, and I inter to gather Dominic and go to that so we can rep two thousand and five.
Bec is at the pokies in hahndorf, so I'm just hangin out at home being bored.
last night was special. I caught a bus into the city at about eleven o'clock with a bunch of half drunk people and then sketched all the way to Albert park on the last train to see Rebecca smith. I tell you, I need some sort of chaperone to stop me doing stuff like that, because I ended up walking around in bare feet at four in the morning, exploring suspiciously dark streets all alone. for some reason there wasn't a lighter in the whole house so we were drunkenly lighting cigarettes on the stove top and bumbling outside with then to have deep talks about cancer and shitty parental units. you know that classic teen angst talk that sometimes just has to be had.
I bailed at seven thirty in the morning, after a sleepless night, and drank red cordial to rehydrated, which turned out to be a pretty bad idea. and then I got home and the electricity switches had been tripped so I couldn't even make myself a cup of tea.
I felt really selfish, staring up at the sky in the early hours. the world is so beautiful, why is it that so often I want to die. it was like staring at a that leaf. I never spare a thought for the people who really are dying, and want to love. I doubt that whatever comes after death is as beautiful as each and everything I see now.
it's an enlightening moment I have had a billion times but every time it hits me harder. funny how it makes me feel ten times worse but a thousand times better at the same time.
even my blanket is incredible now.

the beat of your blood has crystalised

mew, so i saw Paul today, and now i feel incredibly uninspired.
I love how some people change for the worse. i hadn't noticed until earlier today that people have changed. i hope it isn't my fault because it's not necessarily a good change. i think confidence is definitely necessary but there comes a point when being blunt actually becomes being rude and mean, and i don't think we realize how deep it can really cut when we are snide and rude to people, even if we're just kidding around.
It's like sometimes, he calls me a bitch and i know it isn't all just kidding around. i can tell because he says it in this snide manner, and i know that it is meant to hurt me at some level.
and there is always that sort of sinking feel when someone says something like that to me, because i know that i have to laugh it off, even though it makes me feel sort of offended and awkward around the person.
because it is a joke in the end, but it hurts and they might not get it, because no one tells them.
i'm not trying to be a victim, i can't be, i have had my fair share of times when i do that to other people, but like, at least i have the guts to say sorry because i have a glimmer of understanding. it sort of makes me really angry when people are so nonchalant like that.
another thing that pisses me off is when people jump down my throat for being 'antisocial'.
last night i went around to a friends place and she complained at me because i was apparently 'always on my phone'.
i mean, what a hypocrite. i think i may have just been on my phone for five minutes when she said it, because i was watching a movie on youtube that someone had said was funny. she is literally, so annoying sometimes. it's moments like those that i wonder why the spaceman balls i am friends with idiots like that.
i actually hate a lot of my friends, which is depressing, and i really want to go to sleep at the moment, but alas, i want some dinner first.
sad face.

i got lost, and i dont like eating bananas in public so i bailed to the nearest restroom

i think i just woke up callum from laughing so much, but that's okay because he asked to be woken up.
Dominic is so much funnier in writing. i dont know if it is just me or what but it makes me laugh like a loon on loon tablets.
i was just reading through my older posts (instead of carrying out my plan of action, i'll do that later) and i realised i was way more awesome when i was fifteen. i think i realize this every single time i read one of those posts, but whats an epiphany if you can't have it twice.
im laughing like a loon because i don't even feel like my memories are my own. its fucking with my mind.
just the fact that i was fifteen blows my mind haha.
i walked outside today i literally stared at a leaf for about a half hour, and that blew my mind as well.
seriously though, its freaking incredible that i can feel like such poo in the night time but then when i actually get off my ass and go out into the world, i have my mind...well blown.
for lack of a better term.
everything is so amazing, i can hardly believe people believe in evolution. i don't think things could evolve into what they are now. its just too detailed and amazingly incredible to come from blue green algae. what is that theory anyway.
doesn't it shame people to think that beings like us could come from blue green algae. it's just ridiculous, really. i had an awesome talk with dad over curry from little India yesterday, and I'm seriously considering starting to worship with them again on Sundays.
it is quite a dilemma actually, because i know that i disagree with some of their views, and i know that to actually be a Christian you really have to embrace the whole kit and kaboodle. i don't know if i am actually capable of doing that. because i remember being twelve and disagreeing, and i know that i definitely have a stronger personality now, and more opinions. I really just don't know gerald.

what's life without a plan of action

and I my sons, have perfected my own.
being a lazy, sad little poo is doing me no good (shock, horror), so I am going to do a number of siceningly intelligent thugs, and as I do them I am going to write lite bits about the improvement, or lackthereof, in my overall happiness.

NUMERO UN!
I must cleanse my room. because there is nothing more depressing than wandering about in a place that is average at best. and cluttered. I must make perty once again, the boudoir.
2. I must have a shower, a shower of truth. I must wash away all unforgivable sins and consume more tressemme because my god, that shampoo is delicious.
and third,
I must go to a bookshelf, find an amazing book specimen, and bury my nose in it until late december.

I like the sound of this. I do. there are very few times that I actually enjoy the thought of cleaning my room, but you know, one of these times is right now.
and, the next person who mentions how they didn't like my family will obviously not be particularly high on my list of friends. because I fucking never say how much I didn't really like your family, and when I said that, you didn't get angry at me because your an overly nice person.

io went to sleep crying, hoping this would go away. It hasn't.
worst thing is I don't know what to do, so I'm going to sleep again.

/fucks this

I don't know what I'm doing now. I've been reduced to a bumbling mess, sitting in front of the fire trying to wok out what the fuck I want to make happen. trying to understand why I am such a dismal failure.
I know life isn't worth wasting on being sad. But why is it so hard for me just to be happy. I'm so tired of having to pull myself up every ten minutes, stop that sinking feeling that takes over my guts every second moment. I am trying to be better, but I don't even know what better is.
i'm not even allowed to indulge myself as wonder why I deserve this because I know why. I know all he things I have done to deserve this and I can't even excuse myself. I think that's when you know things are bad, when you're such a terrible person that you can't even make excuses for yourself.
it's sort of ridiculous, I want someone to tell me I'm fine, but even if they did I wouldn't believe them because no one actually knows. and I'm being literal, I have never told anyone.
and I can't.
there's something about having a secret. it literally eats away at your sanity. every cell in my brain feels like it's dying. every organ in my body feels like it's going to fail. I doubt even my family would forgive me. and I'm not even kidding. I'm not exaggerating, I'm not being paranoid. I have had enough time In my own head to know the full extent andthr true consequences for every single one of my stupid actions, my ridiculous words.
I feel like nothing. I want to feel something, anything over than this deathly, empty feeling I have now. I don't even think I would notice if I died right here, on the hearth. I want to run away but when I think about it it just doesn't seem worth it. not only do I have no where to go, but even if I did, I would still be stuck in my brain, hoping and wishing for the most amazing things and then realizing... realizing that I am nothing. I am nothing. I pound self-worth into my brain but I am still nothing.
nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing. and being nothing is not worth sticking around for.
I am so fucking nothing I can even end it.
you know, I could go now, but I am stuck here because I'm so fucking worthless, all I am good for is fucking other people over so they can find themselves or something ridiculous like that. I want to scream or yell or punch something, but I can't. I want to choke on my own worthless tongue and die.

please identify the three food species that are on my spoon,

HONEY, THAT'S WATER

I think i should just start to write giantly long posts instead of writing about ten a day, the way i do now.
okay so i am getting really frustrated because i went for almost a week without smoking and now im all back into it. it is like i never stopped. the only problem is that i get so angry when i go cold turkey, and i know that if i want to, i will have to stop being around people for a few weeks. which never ends well because i fall right back in to this unbelievable feeling of shit.
so im sitting here wondering what i am trying to achieve here. and i setting myself up to be disappointed, or am i actually working towards something that will happen. i dont know if i have ruined everything beyond repair or if i can ever mean what i meant before again.
i know that even if i can never be what i was before, i want to at least mean something more than just a little piece of dirt on the bottom of his shoe, but at the same time i don't know if my feelings will disperse or if it will be like it was before, and they won't go away unless all contact is cut.
i love heartbreak, its such an intense time. i mean, i don't especially WANT it to happen to me, but if it does, i think that one should embrace the pain. while that sounds weird, i mean that i think it helps us grow, and that if we shut out all the pain, and bottle it up, we will end up as empty shells of human beings.

the last word always makes me feel depressed.

super rich escape plans and flesh memory

okay so i am sitting here watching TV and they have these ridiculous adds about painkillers. this idiot is bouncing up and down on a fitness ball and his back starts hurting so he takes some big fuck off painkillers and just gets the shit on with his fitness ball work out.
IDIOT! there is a reason your body is in pain. stop shutting it out, listen and recover, or you are going to end up as an old man with a terrible fuck off back.
the other thing i am seeing are advertisements for drugs and microchips that you can use to ease your appetite. so that they like, subdue your appetite. that too is stupid. people dont even fucking understand that the healthy thing to do is listen to your body. if you get hungry, don't eat a big ol' bag of doritos, have like, a carrot or an apple. eat when you're hungry but make it something small and fresh. don't just ignore your body, freaking treat it well. you don't ignore your baby if it starts screaming. Jesus.
plus, don't they understand how the metabolism works? even if you have one meal a day, the likelihood is you won't lose heaps of weight because your body will stress out and hold onto the food that it gets. whereas feeding yourself with good food more regularly will actually end up training your metabolism to deal with the intake of food better and in a more healthy manner.

YES, HEALTH NUT FTW>

this coming from the girl that eats so much fatty shit its just ridiculous. i maintain that when i turn about thirty, it will all pop out my pants and i will die of a heart attack.
i just realized how utterly ridiculous i really am. if i were to go to my block and click the little link that says 'next blog' i would probably end up with the blog of a family from Texas that owns a farm in the middle of nowhere, has eight kids, and blogs so that their family and friends can see what they are doing.
and here i am writing about life, godliness and the need to listen to ones body. if that strikes you as a little retarded, say I.

you're a one trick pony

fark.
im going to bed. my eyes sting and i feel terrible and best of all. i dont have a motherfucking blanket because its somewhere in the goddamn mists of avalon. fuck this shit.

how many ways do you want to die?

oh man,
how gay can you get. like, in the grand scheme of things there is like, a little bit gay and really fucking gay.
you know i am going to be completely honest here, i have literally know idea what i was going to write up there. I was planning on writing something about how im passing the time looking at hilarious screen shots from Harry Potter with captions, but then my computer fucked up and i couldn't look at them so i can't.
I sort of feel like i just broke the illusion by mentioning that i actually plan what i am going to write. well, very occasionally i plan like, one or two sentences, but only like, a minute before and usually i change them a bit.
JESUS.
why am i justifying that. am i not allowed to think or something? so i was thinking the other day, that i am the jesus of all weirdo's. for some unknown reason i seem to have convinced myself that my problems are what makes me interesting. what is that? not interesting at all is what it is.
jesus i am stupid. what is wrong with me that i think that somehow my problems are fascinating.
oh well, i have come up with some commandments. like the ones from jesus.

1. thou shalt not miss more than ten days of school
2. thou shalt complete every assignment given to thee
3. thou shalt not tell unless asked
4. thou shalt not say things unless ye think about the ramifications first
5. thou shalt mention derogatory things like 'gay' and 'nigger'
6. thou shalt not make thyself think of anymore commandments lest thou suck more.

i thought they were awesome. i am going to write them on a stone tablet and present them to the jews, but i will add a little bit about not having a large nose. something like.../stops because of commandment five.
see that, i refrained from being racist because i told myself to. serious shit there mate.

im listening to Regina Spektor and wondering why everything is so unbelievably fascinating. meow.
what is wrong with everything. answer, long and stupid. face, awesome.
man i should do some homework. i know what i have to do.
I KNOW

im in your head like a rat in the walls

i dont know if anyone else knows that frustrated feeling where you sort of want to be the coolest person ever and just not care, and then theres the other half of you, which feels like getting a fast forward button and making everything all right again. not that things are bad, things are just completely average. i say this while snuggled under a feather blanket in a warm lounge watching murder mysteries on TV. shit is good in comparison to how it could be elsewhere, but i am at that point where i am sick of holding myself up. it amazes me how effortless people can make being happy look, when it feels like a fucking bburden to me.
its because i know how much easier it is to let even the littlest things get to you, rather than grabbing a big fuck off slice of frozen cheese and slicing them up until you just cant feel your hands anymore because it's so goddamn cold. i hate it when my arms get sore from that cheese, and i drop it, and i start to feel my hands again, and BAM! everything comes flying back and punches me in the face, so i have to find my mojo again and climb all the way up that ladder of happiness and try and get to the top once again even though i know what i need to do that, and since i dont have it, im going to sit somewhere below the target emotion until i just fall the fuck down and die. i want to go to sleep but im not tired. just want to cuddle up to this one person and go to sleep like i used to.
god knows how i have managed the last three monthss

frustration burns in me, it's more than I can bear...

there's something terrible, yet exciting, about the way someone or something can occupy your mind completely. it's sort of scary, that the human mind can obsess over things until nothing has meaning anymore.
I've checked my Facebook every five minutes for the last four office hours, and I don't even know what I'm expecting, but I know what I wan to see.
I've had this feeling the last few days that everything has changed and I've missed it happening, now I'm left in the background wondering what the fuck is going on while everyone else moves forward. I want the same things I have always wanted, but I don't know what anyone else wants anymore. it's so confusing, I can hardly bear it. I'm listening to depressing songs and wondering where I belong, and I'm feeling like a little piece of nothing on the face of the earth. mum always says to me that everything I put into myself, all the music, the thoughts I have, they're gking to burst out eventually. but it's all been whirling around for so long, I am not even sure what is happening anymore. as I said, falling behind.
I don't want to get old. I already feel like life is just he blink of an eye. sixteen years feels like nothing now, and I know I have so much more to go, it's daunting.
it sounds very cliched but I feel like the blood has frozen in my veins. i feel like feeling but it's just a big old pit in the stomach again. what a night.
muted is how I feel. muted and foolish.

country bumpkin crackwhore bitch

cranking the smashing pumpkins on the couch, listening to becs dad talking about his latest operation, wondering why I have two write a thousand word essay on legalizing gay marriage. can't I just say my opinion and be done with it? I'm failing at bring subtle. so good.

the devil on my shoulder

ah, yes, i like to eat toast.
its funny two hours i was so tired and now im all distracted and i want to keep being awake and make the most of the time i have to talk to people. person.
i made some silly choices, i really did, she thinks, listening to Alice in Chains with eyes wide open.
i want to kill myself for writing that. kidding, not actually kill but maybe maim. or like, gently destroy my own fingernails.
yeah, fingernails is good. man i really want to sleep, i think it might be time soon, even though it is only ten forty five.
i am all flustered and evil. i want to sleep i want to sleep i want to sleep. but sleep is such a waste of time.
i dont have all day, i only have like and hour and fifteen minutes left, and thats not heaps if you actually think about it.
OH MY GOD STOP BEING OFFLINE>
i want to eat someone, facebook chat sucks so much, i swear to god.
i hate this whole thing where every time i take a breath in my whole chest just seizes up and i start choking on air. its really comfortable, exactly how the body should work. plus mum hears every time i cough and she knows im awake, and keeps texting me to breathe deep, seek peace, and sleep. the sleep bit is in capitals too, so you know she's serious, even though she can't be bothered getting out of bed, walking ten meters to my room and complaining at me.
i just realised the other day that i seem to be really good at writing in run on sentences, with lots of full stops, and not much point.
and then i realised that im sitting in the dark, listening to Alice in Chains, blogging and smiling stupidly at my computer because of a totally mundane sentence that said, 'Its getting to small for me'.
that was in reference to a jacket. what the fuck is wrong with me.
i need psychiatrical help soon

you and your standard issue cupcake pajamas

my nose it blIckes and I feel like you average, run of the mill lesbian dark rider. crusoe the kitten is purring with a little too much gusto and dan is wandering about putting pants on that until recently were on the bonnet of the car. he's tried on a few outfits noe, I wonder if he has a date :)
breathing: labored, face: average at best. but what are you going to do?
I'm going to see little Miriam and Hannah later on tonight, and give Miriam a birthday present because I love her so, even when she tells me stories about beig a sly fox on the potty next to a river, when in actual fact she's on the potty in the lounge room. I don't really fully comprehend the way in which the mind of the toddler works. but I'm getting better at it, and that's a fact. OR IS IT?
gallons of anything would be nice. gallon is such a nice word. it's like pound or ounce. metric measurements sound so much nicer but really you'd think the metric system was always a more obvious choice for the mathematical genius' of the world. I spend so much time writing on my phone, it's one of the blessings of life and godliness.
little babies are so adorable, but I don't get why people like their smell. it's musty and weird, and it doesn't go away for ages because talcum powder keeps being used. it's weird that an ingredient for crack can be used to sooth a babies buttocks. very weird if you ask me.

they bowl with cabbages

two am. good time for the body and soul.
cigarette in hand and hair a-grease from the shower I forgot to have earlier, I ponder the meaning of life and the prospect of perhaps becoming some sort of billionaire through questionable means.
we're watching morning glory with Rachel McAdams and well, I have just realized how absolutely mesmerizing a fifty two inch TV can really be. I honestly cannot keep my eyes off it. depressing really, that I managed fourteen years without a television and suddenly I live in front of it. gone are the days of shooting my siblings with wooden guns in the dark and playing spotlight in the park. it's all about reality TV and getting high now. life changes in the funniest ways, it really does.

I carry your image always in my head, folded and yellowed and torn at the edge

oh my goodness god almighty Mary mother of Jesus.
I had only one lesson today, and my god it was abysmal. I don't have any idea why I signed up for Legal Studies in the first place. is it because my brother is a laager and well... being smarter than my douchebag brother is definitely high on my list of priorities. but honest to god it is so unbelievable, numbingly boring. and plus the teacher absolutely despises me because I accidentally neglected to go to about ninety percent of my lessons last time, but what does he expect, he is a terrible teacher. god it was abysmal.
I'm going To go now.

I am the night

growing old is such a hard notion to fathom. i can't think of what i will be like in twenty years. i cant imagine looking back on my younger days. i cant imagine having children, or a family, or what the world will be like. none of us ever really understand how much things are going to change.
its amazing how gradually a person can turn from an insane partier to a responsible adult. you dont see it happening until it's done, and then you feel as though you dont really know that person anymore.
its worse when someone stays in a rut. the sort of person who takes three years to achieve one tiny thing. that is sort of depressing. those people are the people that one should avoid if one is trying to achieve something in life. its amazing how people can take you down with them if they hold on tight enough. or if you dont struggle enough.
i guess i want to strive to stay away from people like this. i want to be something more than just an average person. theres a study that shows, that after eighty years, you are forgotten. in eighty years, all the people i was once friends with, will have forgotten me, and i them.
i dont want to be forgotten, i want to be remembered, even if it isnt for something as amazing as the theory of evolution, i want to be remembered after im gone. something of me wants to remain.
i dont know, its all wonderful. in another place or something.
i want to travel at the moment. all i can think about is how huge the world is and all the amazing things that ninety percent of people aren't going to see just because a car, or a mobile phone is more important to them. i want to go see the ancient mayan cities and the pyramids, the grand canyon, mount everest and mont blanc. i want to ski in aspen and see the northern lights in finland, so when i am old, i can remember all the amazing things i have seen and done, instead of just looking back and realising i stayed in just one place for my whole life. i dont know, resistance is futile.

I don't understand some of the adds on television. what impact are they supposed to have? sometimes I overanalyze them to the point where I am like some sort of psychoanalyst trying to work out if adds are some sort of tethnical inception. you know like impairing an idea off thought in peoples brains. I guess it sort of is, which makes me a bit nervous. the minds of a consumer population are weak. I bowser use the power of the force to fend off these attacks on my mind. but not really, I like shoes as much as the next girl who bought a pair of camper boots And is now broke does.

mcdolands are ridiculous with their oven baked bits and bobs that might count as about an eighth of a meal at the very best. it's just so goddamn phoney.

I hate it when films have giant plot floors or phoney English voices because the film is in German and subtitles were obviously an impossibility because some people are stupid. I find it very off-putting if I am trying to amuse myself with said film. I just don't understand why they don't research a bit before they go about building eye and filming douchebags dandering around like goddamn fools. sonuvabitches, ruining the sacredness of films.

you know, I have a question: why would you agree to go to the lake of fire with Satan? does it sound like a great idea? not to me. if Satan invited me to the lake o fire I'd say something alon he lines of : "hello no!".
in the voice of a festively plump African-american woman.

I wonder why people refer to a fictional young glass as either half empty or half full? some foolish goddamn analogy for ones outlook on life... anyhow, said glass is always full. half air, half water, stupid sonuvabitches. is it some form of sign that depression is stupid? god knows.

and why, if you are a douche would you continue to be one. I mean, if you don't like homebrand ice-cream because it's not goddamn creamy enough, but you do like Blue Ribbon ice-cream because it's super duper creamy. anyway, if you don't have enough money to afford Blue Ribbon unless you don't buy milk, and you keep buying it, you are a douche. that is very douche-like yeah it is

by his side, and drunk on pride

oh what a lovely day! I was decidedly disgruntled when I was awoken by the motherhood at around eight in the morning, so I didn't actually get up until five minutes before we went to Glendles to press ye olde wine. it was all sunny and lovely when we donned our white t-shirts and hosed down all our equipment. it smelt so much, I think I actually got a bit drunk, but it looked lovely with all the little grapes in the huge tubs. we put together the big wooden press and then syphoned all the juice
that we could out of the tubs, and then used a giant red plastic spade to scoop out all the berries into the press. my feet and fingers turned purple and so did my white t-shirt but what of it? then I had a nice nap and we web back to camp only to be intercepted by a call from Xavier telling us to go sailing with him. so now we're going sailing on the high seas. and the. to Bombora for dinner. and then tomorrow we exit? yay stage oft, to a drum and base concert on ice with Bec.

another sickening paragraph about my genuine happiness and contentment with life. I dot even know if it's genuine anymore or if I am trying to convince myself that I feel good even thPugh every second moment I feel nauseas and my heart plummets into merest. it's amazing how tree despair can just take you over. anyhow, we went for a nice walk across the bridge to granite island and dandered around. I think mum had a bit too much wine because she was very loud and ridiculous the whole time, and her and granny had serioustrouble sitting down in the theatre but you know, they're oldies, they're allowed... i think.
tomorrow morning will be occupied with the excellence of wine crushing. I'm pretty sure that's the last step of making wine, when you syphon it out of the big tubs and into the barrels and then take the rest and put it in the crusher to get out all the excess juice into the barrels. and then you let it be in the lovely barrels for at least two years. yay. I'm off to humble sleep now.

today was decidedly lovely too. I woke up Earl and had scrambled eggs and salmon for breakfast, and then dandered around like a fool for a long while, as I was waiting for the others together shot together so that we could go shopping. we had quite a brisk walk up to the town and I went Ito this strang shop called Ruther Cottage. it turns out I have a new favorite shop in the world. they had the most amazing Tony Bianco cream pumps and Vuitton travel trunks that I could have been happily buried in. fortunately it all cost a fortune so I didn't buy anything. actually hold on I bought some textured fluer d'elise black and white wrapping paper and one with silver roses too. but I am most certainly going to go there every chance I ever get. we had chai lattes at Cockles On North and discussed something but I left half way through to go to little bird and get my copy of Catcher in the Rye back. they still had it, which was good, and I also found out that they ar moving to glenelg because the owners children go to school in seacliff and she can't be bothered sob the traveling every day. I got a little distracted and ended up buying Miriam a birthday present too. you know when you make a shape with your hands and if you put it up against a light the shadow willl look like a dog? igot her a little cream t-shirt with the hand and th shadow behind I printed on it. and hen a little card with the outline of a deer that said hello dear on the front. it was all rather adorable. and hen I went to St. Nudes thrift store and bought some of the little old ladies hand made jam ( which reminds me we have a crabapple tree at home that we should make some jam from).
anyway I left St. Nudes fairly speedily because I don't like the smell and I went past Vincents Coffee Shop and bought Bec some new red and blue and cream teatowels because the ones she has now leave little bits of lint on the dishes. I stopped by The Old garage Emporium as well, which is a shop that I really did like a lot and I found hat it contains nothing of much interest anymore which was saddening. after that disappointing venture I dandered home to the sound of Rage Against the Machine and played terrible games on my iPhone unt about three, when I fell asleep. mum decided to wake me up to ask if we wanted to go see Arthur tonight which apprently we do, so we're leaving for that in about and hours. I am about half way through catcher in the Rye now and I just remembered how much I loved it. Auckley and his mossy teeth piss me off so much, and the sonuvabitch is a fictional character :/
I do love how Sallinger wrote it though. imperfect in a manner that suits Holdens personality so perfectly. contradictory I know hit what are you going to do. tonight I am going to go down onto the beach and write some more observations. god if I had the motivation I would write a whole goddamn book.

I cheated myself, like I knew I would

today was gorgeous. I woke up at about midday with the rain pattering down on the canvas of my tent, and mummy made me a cheese toasty and ancup of tea. the rain ceased around one, at which time I Donned my lovely pants and a jacket and went for a walk Down behind crockery bay and little beach with my camera. it was a bit breezy and the tide was basically as high as it gets, but there was some sunshine and birds were singing and all in all it was beautiful and tranquil, and it made me happy to be alive. I met mum and Elizabeth on the way back to camp and we had a nice chat, and a walk around the cliff walk. it was freaking serene. and then me and granny and Elizabeth went to look for a place to have dinner while mum and glendle went to a Greek cafe with Xavier and steph. we ended up in this gorgeous little Irish pub called 'Murphys Inn'. it had the best ambience, little green candles on all the little tables and Irish fold music playing. and the cutest Irish woman served us. I had some kickass chicken stuffed with prawns and then a baked cheesecake. and then we came home and I went for a walk down to crockery bay in the dark with my blanket and wrote in my little book and then came back and got into bed. I haven't had a cigarette in two days, which is quite and achievement for me:)
I believe this is the end of the smoking era. i hope It will be. oh wait I forgot we went into the town and I bought a little copy of catcher in the rye but I left it in Little Bird. we had coffee at vincents and discussed the smell of different shops in much depth, and me and Lizzie went into seabreeze silver, where I saw the most amazing necklace of black ribbon with a tiny silver bird in a little silver cage. it was beautiful.