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Yes, it's time for a change. And you know what? It's totally doable. I certainly wasn't always like this and don't have to always be like this. I can totally be selfish - and I say that with absolutely no negative connotations to the word. The world can deal with their own feelings and their own worries. I don't have to be cruel, I just have to stop being selfless.
Selflessness never gets you anywhere. And in all honesty, do I even want to be that person?


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Do you ever get those days when you realize that you just don't care whether you're alive or not?
It's a completely all encompassing feeling that seems to leach the will right out of you, and everything just sits on the edge of a knife blade.
I can't help but be honest. There are days when I wake up and I don't want to fight anymore. And I don't want to die per ce, but I don't exactly want to live either.
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To sleep—perchance to dream...

Yes. Sleep.
I would honestly tell you just how long its been since I've had more then three hours of sleep per night, but I think that number just might scare some of you.
Yesterday I've finally started feeling the effects of this deprivation that was anything other than simply feeling tired.
Honestly I felt fine. Until I realized I kept losing my balance and I've also started saying one thing and meaning something else entirely.
I have no idea how many full nights of rest I'm meant to get now for the swaying to go away or for my balance to come back, but I hope its soon.


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Escapism

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Faith.

Is a gift.
It really is.

Evan said:
it must have been great in the old days, when everyone believed in god
Marty said:
why?
Evan said:
it would have been so easy to decide on a career in the church
so many people must have done that out of convenience
Marty said:
hmm
yes. stay in the realm of ideas and theory.
i'd like that
Evan says:
exactly, just like Mr Darling said
Marty says:
yes
Evan says:
if i believed in god, it would be so easy
Marty says:
yeah...
same
sigh
i'd be able to go to church with just about most people i know and i wouldn't feel so...
lost
Evan says:
well i don't feel lost
like i said, it would just be so convenient
Marty says:
i feel lost.
but the shepard isn't gonna find me
or take me to his father's house..
i'll just build a camp fire
and hope for the best
Evan says:
that is the best
and what's wrong with that?

Marty says:
it might rain.
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If that mocking bird don't sing


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Purgatory is a warm waiting room full of strangers and hard chairs, with flies buzzing fruitlessly against a dirty window, a halfhearted ceiling fan and a mounted TV in the corner that screens nothing but day time reality shows.

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Did you hear her crying?
She was just dropped in one day.
Some kid did it. Scuffy little nose picker - more flees than manners.
Held her above that dark opening he did - and just let go.
Down she went, landing in cold, black water - feet first!
Fat load of good that did...

Now she's stuck. Half-well down. Almost drown.
Won't catch another mouse again.
Not cause her fur is rough and mangy
Or cause her bones are soft and sore.
Black water leaks from those eyes
A cold, dark puddle upon the floor.

And so although she eats her dinner
And coils herself around my skin -her
Eyes are wide and she is gone.
Half-well down. Almost drown.
Won't catch another mouse again.
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So we talked about house-ish things today. I think we got an informal budget together, each picking a suburb to look into. All in all we're looking at Carlton, Parkville, Melbourne City, Fitzroy.
Some apprehensions about moving. Only because I've been living here for so long that its become understandably comfortable. The idea of sharing a room is not particularly appealing either, but I've come to accept that I'll eventually get used to it.
Hopefully all will go well.
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Not ready

If it's one thing I've learned it's that I have no time for a relationship. I have no additional focus to spend, no joy to bring, no initiative to take on responsibility for anyone other than myself.

I am already drowning. There is no desire in me to drag someone else down with me. No desire to be the weak one who has to be taken care of.

For the next six months I have to be of a single mind and I will cut out whatever access that gets in the way.

I haven't met you yet and so I hope you will be satisfied that I dream of you only in sleep.


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Today I lived the same day that I lived yesterday.

Or at least it feels that way.
It's all monochrome and restlessness, each day fused to the one before it in some completely unremarkable way.
I'm vaguely aware that I need to fix this.

Park swings.
Good books.
New play list.
Beach and roller blades.

Holidays are coming.
Yay. :)
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Most of the time I dread work.
I dread giving up my weekends, working into the wee hours of the mornings. I dread the pervasive smell of tequila. Dread the sticky sweet smell of butterscotch schnapps and the layer of Baileys that requires skill in pouring (despite the fact that I'm now pretty good at it).
I dread the way my facial muscles hurt as I do my rounds, asking the same people the same annoying question over and over again with my biggest shit-eating smile plastered firmly in place. (seriously, you think you're annoyed?)
I despise my boss and I despise how greed runs the establishment as seen from the exorbitant cover charge - to the even more exorbitant cloakroom fee - to how little we're all paid - to the way half the beer taps don't work...

However, despite all that, I am pretty glad to say that all these things have only brought me closer to my colleges. Not only are they cool people but sometimes it's the little things that get you through the night.

Was sitting at the front door the other evening. Max was hovering around the entrance. He's a bouncer and he's pretty damn huge (like seriously, HUGE. don't mess with this guy). Most of the time he's got this stoic don't-f-with-me face.

Me: Max, where are you from?
Max: I'm Lebanese.
Me: Hmm... okay.
[Silence.]
Me: Hey Max, did your mother feed you like shit loads of spinach as a kid? Is that why you're so tall?
Max: [Laughs]
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Of lipstick stains and paper dresses.

Tonight was Trinity ball, but why would that matter to me? I didn't go, nor did I particularly want to. My liver is eternally grateful.
And yet I can't help but wonder what Evan wore or what Martin looked like in his new shirt. Or if any girls did want to bring him home to their mothers. Lol.
Maybe I'll go next year.

Tonight we as a house bonded through the sharing of much personal information and facebook stalking (with the exception of my friends). It was cool and pretty enjoyable. Not quite a deep and meaningful conversation but a pretty open an honest one none the less.

Was meant to meet Paul tonight actually, but he disappeared with the Kendo people and only called me at 11pm. :s
Looks like I'm seeing him tomorrow instead cause he leaves for Japan on Saturday and I'm working on the weekend.
Oooh. I'm getting paid! But they better pay us for both nights. I won't tolerate any bullshit.
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the forest of hands and teeth

Yes, yes I bought it today.
And I know... little girl Martina is currently yelling at bookish Martina.

"Why? Why did you do this to us? I know it was daytime, but how could you ever think this was a good idea?"

Cause it's stupid really. I spooked myself with an apocalyptic zombie book. Think The Village crossed over with Resident Evil. And then remind yourself that I'm the girl who screamed in Cyberdome and had my nerves torn to shreds while playing Left 4 Dead.

So yes, laugh at me cause I really can't sleep. My ears prick at the slightest sound and I seem to have forgotten to add zombie repellent to the shopping list...
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The whole house smells like oil.
Marco's friend came over and fried dumplings and now Kenn is on the brink of popping a blood vessel.
He's right I suppose. This is a home. You don't walk into someone's home at 9pm and cook stuff in their kitchen and stink up their house.
I guess if Marco were here it'd be okay, but he's not.

I feel tired even though it's only 10.30 and I don't know why that is.
Sigh. It's going to be a long night...
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So I finally bit the bullet and watched it. I figured I couldn't remain the only person on the friggin planet that hasn't seen it. I mean... how bad could it be right?

I'm happy to stay that it wasn't quite as bad as I made it out to be in my head. Sure, things were a little weird here and there. Eric Yorki is strangely Asian, Ben and Lauren didn't exist. The big white house wasn't white and the scene I wanted to see between Mike and Edward at the ward was missing as well as 'Because Technically We Don't Need to Breath' (like how do you miss out that? It was the most adorable scene in the book!).

I was happy that they added more horror/slasher elements to it by following James, Victoria and Laurent around in the beginning while they killed those two men. Sometimes one just needs to be reminded that they're watching a vampire film and not just a movie about beautiful, sparkley people.

Talking about beauty, wtf did they do to Pattinson? I mean, everyone else looked okay. James looked hot and vampish. Carlisle looked handsome and still vampish. Edward looked awful and completely overdone. Had they toned it down and made him look like the rest of the cast it would have been fine, but in their attempt to make him hotter than he is, they overdid the mascara and gave him stupid hair.

The best actors were Bella and Charlie. Everyone else was decent except Pattinson who was OOC. I mean, pass that boy one of the billions of copies lying around everywhere and make him read it. Edward is nothing like that.
Edward is smooth. Arrogantly confidant. He doesn't mutter or fumble constantly with his words. In fact in the books there is ONE moment where he does stumble on his words. How do I know this? Well, cause Bella actually thinks, "Wow, he's really nervous .... I don't think I've ever heard him stumble on his words before."
In the movie he stumbled and hesitated over pretty much everything he said. And also, Bella had a deeper voice than he does, I swear.

Also, Edward goes really deathly quiet when angry or when he feel like he's losing control. His voice becomes a perfect facade of calm.
In the car when they were driving away from the 'almost-rape' scene I swear I heard Pattinson's voice crack when he begged for a distraction.

Other than that, Bella is adorable. Charlie is younger and more agile than I pictured him and that's okay too. So basically it was really just Edward that cause the movie to be an uber crap movie instead of just a crap movie.
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I am in desperate need of an action movie. Nothing too complexed. Just a decent plot and heaps upon heaps of stunts and a shit load of C-4. Triple X would be perfect.
But so would Hitman, Transporter, Die Hard and Chronicles of Riddick. I guess Man on Fire would be okay too.

I managed to get Babylon A.D to scratch the itch, but that didn't work. It ended up being a lamer, less awesome version of Triple X. I mean, Vin Diesel's character is pretty much always the same so it's really not his fault. But fixing the world one baby at a time? Really? :s
I dunno... maybe crazy female religious cults aren't my thing...

I guess I should probably get someone to watch Terminator with me.


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Water

Watching footage of the search for AirFrance and the recovery operations for its black box, I realized that there's something truly terrifying about dying in water.
I mean, I love the ocean. Diving, swimming, snorkeling, the smell of salty wind. Boats - who the hell doesn't like boats? But, there's just something nightmarish about the vastness of those billion tons of water. Or the darkness. Or maybe I've just seen Ghost Ship or Titanic too many times.

There seems to be a certain 'lost' quality about a watery grave. I mean, being eaten is better. Shark attack, giant squid, the Kraken - all that jazz is much more welcomed because then at least you're immediately going back into the energy cycle. Which is way better than the idea of dying in a wreck, buried beneath a billion tons of water, suspended or floating lifelessly in the darkness.


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Omgomgomgomg... Liz and I just talked about computer games we used to play when we were younger cause she said she just downloaded Zoombinis. That got us remembering Putt Putt and Freddi Fish and all those other games.

Seriously! How the hell did I manage to forget Freddi Fish? How was my life complete without Freddi Fish? I mean, as awesome as Putt Putt was, he wasn't anything as close to awesome as Freddi Fish.

Ranked by awesomeness:
1. Freddi Fish
2. War Craft
3. Battle Field
4. GTA

As we talked about it all these memories came flooding back and I totally want to relive them during the coming holidays. Yes! I will dedicate an entire afternoon to picking up purple sea urchins and solving all those little games!

Sigh.

Sometimes it's really just the simple things...
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I've decided that once all this is done and over, I'm going to (with the extensive help from wikipedia and a good dictionary) finish I, Lucifer and then start reading Paradise Lost.
Yeah, I know that Paradise Lost will be a total pain, but there must be something in it that makes it worth it. The language might do my head it, but if the story is alright then I'm willing to give it a shot. No doubt wikipedia and the dictionary will also be needed in that case.
Hopefully it'll be fun. Like a little pet project.

Glen Duncan's Lucifer is just so... talkative.
It gives me a little bit of a headache just to follow all that blabbering.
His ideas are pretty good though.
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Consistency

"You gave me the key to your heart, my love;
Then why did you make me knock?"
Oh that was yesterday, saints above!
And last night - I changed the lock!


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Manga

Watching and reading VK has spoilt me completely. Sigh. I can't seen to read manga or watch anime without noticing how much better and clearer and more complexed the VK drawings are. Of course RK is pretty close, but Bleach looks totally primitive. Compared to VK everything looks like drawings styles from Doraemon.

Watched three episodes of Speed Grapher. Don't know if I'll go on with it. Frankly it is slightly disturbing - not that that would stop me - but the whole anti-capitalist, anti-hedonistic pleasures message is just so IN YOUR FACE.

That being said, the best part was when the evil guy told the little boy that lives can be bought, and that he should grow up and make heaps of money so he might someday buy his life to avenge his father.

Hmm... if memory serves, didn't something similar happen in the beginning of Kill Bill? If it didn't, I have no idea how my mind drew that link.

Anyway, predictions for VK:
I wonder if Zero will end up accepting the position of Association leader. I don't think he'd want to. He wants to kill vampires freely and without restraint. He won't want to be bogged down in politics. He already said he won't kill Kaname at the moment. Yuuki will never forget him, I'm surprised she's writing to Yori and not to Zero. But Yori would see Zero in school... hmm.
Yuuki will never use Kaname's name ever... unless she's forced to. I bet the next time she sees Zero the chapter will end right at that point. I bet she tries to be with him. Kaname will die in the end. Oh, and Yori's role will get bigger this season.
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New Music

Bumming at home doing work and catching up on recent music albums that I've missed out on.

Reel Big Fish, Mute Math, The Killers, The Fray, Eminem, Guns N' Roses, Flo Rida, Seether, Green Day, Smash Mouth, Pink.

I'm in love with the Killers.
And Mute Math.

Like finally.

Kenn is making us dinner tonight. Lamb shank.
And the whole house smells delicious. It seeps under the doors.
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The minute hand marches on
Dragging with it the rest of the world
And me too, though I can't always be certain
As letters fall around me like shapes
Colourful and Silent
From the place where black water drips into black pools
The thing that cannot be found remains
Unfound, I claw my way through my eyes
As people look away
I slide down deeply, barely breathing
This place is warm and dark, infectious and
I will grow like a mushroom

I see the sky is white
Bright and blinding against the trees
I wonder why I'm drowning
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Anticipation.

I rarely ever get excited. Which is kind of sad when you really think about it. But it's true. I used to marvel at Liz's salsa enthusiasm cause feelings like that are just something I don't experience anymore.

And yet last night I found myself lying in bed, trying and failing to read about environmental politics because I was feeling excited about this coming weekend trip to Bendigo. Seriously, I'm practically itching for this weekend to start.
My inner child is doing cartwheels and yelling "Car trip! Car trip!" because she can't wait to get out into the country and see fields of green stuff and nature go flying past.

I've been cooped up in this city for far too long.
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She's out getting top up cause her phone was out of credit. People have been sending her messages but she hasn't been able to reply any of them. On the way back home she stops at the bakers and gets a loaf of bread. She's been stuck indoors doing work for a while but the world is still as she remembers it.

She walks towards the little alleyway towards her house. She sees the jewelers window in her peripheral vision and her eyes fly wide open. Adrenalin courses through her system as she stops blankly on the sidewalk. What day is it?

Oh hell.

Before she knows it her feet are back in motion. Her fringe dances lightly in the breeze as she half jogs to her building. As always she fumbles with the keys.

Soon the loaf is on the table, forgotten, as she races to her room and revives her laptop with a quick finger across the inbuilt mouse.
She types quickly across the search bar and nearly falls into her chair in relief when the search comes up.

Mother's Day is next Sunday.
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I can still remember high school bio and I totally get the whole homeostasis/heat regulation thing. Cells burn energy and give off heat - especially during muscle contraction. But sometimes I can't help but think that it would be so much better to have an actual organ that does nothing but generate heat. Or on second thought, forget just having one. Our whole bodies should be riddled with tiny heat generating sites. Then I would have extras transplanted into my feet.
I'm sick of my toes being cold.
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Grading

Nooo... I'm going to miss grading. Gah.
I'm going to be the only white belt left. How embarrassing. :( I didn't go to camp so I didn't learn the 14 step form so there's no way I can grade. Omgwhatamigonnado?
Sigh. I guess I'll go for taekwondo this evening and see what they say. Tonight is pre-grading so there isn't much chance that I'll be allowed to grade, but maybe I'll pick up something...

Or maybe I should just go to the library instead, catch up on work and forget grading altogether. I'm not going to be going for competitions anyway so technically I don't even need to grade.

I guess I'm just bugged that I'm not gonna grade when they're holding grading. It's a waste. And who doesn't like leveling up anyway?
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I've got a funny little feeling
my arms are shaking like a lightning rod, yeah
I'll cannonball right through the ceiling
and sink my teeth in till the feeling's gone, yeah

I've got scratching that needs an itch. Or a scratching post. Or someone to jump tackle.
Too dark to go jogging. I'm having problems dealing with pent up energy.

Alive and restless.

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I love the dynamics of our household. I wish it would continue to stay this way. I don't want Zach to leave. I think it might actually pain me when he does move out.

Poor Marco, I might just have to dislike him already for even agreeing to move in. Simply for the very unjust reason of him not being Zach.

It's just that I really like these nights when we simply convene in one of our bedrooms and talk about everything and nothing. Exboyfriends, friends, food, drawing, theology, work... Life. It's 2.30 in the morning and Kenn has work tomorrow, I have a 9am class but still we sit and tell stories and joke around.

What if Marco isn't funny or sarcastic or endearing in any way?
Okay... I know I'm just being stupid and sentimental, but I'm kind of happy right now and I really wish things would stay this way.
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This is really beyond ridiculous. How hard is it to find a cute flopsy bunny during easter? I guess I should just accept that it wasn't meant to be... Oh well.
Had a good Fri/Sat. Stayed over at Evan's Friday night after watching the Boat that Rocked. It was awesome! Totally melodramatic half the time, but it was really quite funny. Bill Nighy certainly did not disappoint and Tom Sturridge was so cute in a total brooding puppy kind of way. <3
We went to town on Saturday which was nice. We explored Elizabeth st. and went to the magazine store and to Minotaur and then to the pet store in Melb Central (to contemplate the fate of a little brown mouse) before going back to college to watch Advent Children.

Anyway, being easter Sunday every thing's closed today, which is just as well cause I really should start on my work.
I read the last chapter of VK and it totally made me smile. My mind is melting from the adorable.
Oh and of course Lizzy arrives tomorrow so YAY! *skips*
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A fevered look held in her eyes as she grasped the sacred object securely in her fingers. Her heart beat just a little louder than normal as she gazed at it while trying not to walk into the evening crowd that had convened outside the cinema.

She had it. It was two weeks early, but it was out.

She kept blinking as if trying to force herself to wake up from a dream. As if at any moment it would disappear from her grasp and her fingers would clutch at air.

She bit her lip, not out of frustration, but to hide the smile that simmered just beneath her expression, unbeknown to the average passersby.

She fought her hand from stroking the cover as she waited for the light to turn. Self-restraint won. Barely.

She would soon be home. Then she would make a dive for the duvet with the object in hand, armed with a mug of hot tea. There she would stay, buried beneath the pages, only to resurface once she was done.

There wasn’t a force in this world that could have stopped her. She couldn’t help it. The second she had seen it on the shelf she had already been lost. A tiny part of her soul had left the present, surrendering itself to a world of magic artifacts, vampires, angels and tall glass cities.

Finally, City of Glass was out. And she would devour it. Every single word.
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You have got to be kidding me.

I never get cramps. Ever.
And now I'm sitting in the office, wanting to do nothing more than to crawl under my desk and die.

Ugh.
What the hell...
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Mario Kart

There are always those days. Days when you just happen to fall out of bed and into your life, dragging your mug of coffee behind you.
My life – like Mario Kart – is spent driving around in an poorly designed vehicle that I can barely control, trying to manoeuvre between walls, ceilings and floors, dodging people, staplers and those funny little turtle shells that knock the living daylights out of you.
And every now and then you run headlong into a massive golden coin, and then you think “I totally get this game.” But you don’t. Not really.
And then you wonder if you’ll ever manage to gather your wits about you for the seconds it takes you to fully comprehend the mini-map as the world spins around you, lights and whistles blaring.
And then maybe you pause, momentarily stunned, only to have your team mate collide into your back with a satisfying crash as they curse you for your trouble.
But the game doesn’t end here. Your car is still intact; the shiny red paint is still as spotless as ever. And as your partners tail lights disappear in the distance, you decide to move (before anything else hits you). So you head off too, speeding as you try to make up for lost time, only to then realize that you’re moving against traffic.
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Oh my god... they butchered the Count of Monte Cristo. They took, raped and ravaged one of the most ardently vengeful, beautifully written and complex historical narratives and turned it into a feel good family movie. Ugh! If Alexander Dumas could see what his brilliance was turned into... he'd be turning in his grave.

I mean... shouldn't there be some sort of copyright law that prevents them from completely changing the ending? (well... actually more like 80% of the movie) It's so unfair. I hate how all movie makers do is give people what they want to see - in complete disregard of the actual story. If people wanted a feel good movie, couldn't they have just seen... I dunno... a Disney movie instead? Or a romantic comedy. Or some Christmas nonsense. Because the Count of Monte Cristo really shouldn't be anything like that. Roar. It pains me. It really does.
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and here we go...

It's all coming back to me now. I swear. And it's not a good thing. It's everywhere I turn.
And maybe that's why it felt so good to hear an all too comforting and familiar (although sleepy) voice even if it was for a few brief moments.
It honestly felt like life was slapping me in the face. Or ripping. That bus ride this afternoon was so agonizingly painful. And it didn't at all help that my attempts to laps into moments of comfortable silence were thwarted.
And I didn't meant to worry you. I know what you were thinking. I know that you were recalling the last time when I lapsed into silence for two months. But this is nothing like that. I just don't feel like being poked and prodded into responding.
I promise I will make an effort though. It's just that sometimes I wish the gears would turn faster or that I could drown out the sound of them turning.
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Aww man.... Now I just want to smoke weed and love everyone. Just watched Across the Universe (cause evil, drunk boys watched it without me. pfft!). Jim Sturgess is so cute. *swoon and faints*
That's got to be one of the best movies I've seen in a while. I really really liked it. Wasn't too happy with the trippy circus bit. That was a bit random and pointless if for nothing but to show just how stoned they were.
I kept guessing that she would die and that the whole thing would end up being Awalktoremember-ish, but thankfully that didn't happen. I liked the beginning more than the end though.
Max and the US army/ Uncle Sam bit was really well done. Makes me think of play analysis (where we had to direct a play??). Watching this gave me some new ideas for Tales of Ovid. Too late... oh well.
Sigh. I'm so high up on this hippie vibe. It's true... All you need is love... and world peace. And Jim Sturgess.
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12.00am
I'm a little excited. My oneshot has only been up since 5.30pm this evening but already 52 people have read it! I only got two reviews though, so I pretty much know it's all due to the good summary I added. I mean, especially before chapter 44 comes out, people will be really wanting to read about the end of chapter 43. Especially with those cliff hangers the author put there. Muahahah. *exploitation* :D

Anyway... Liz and I went to Camie's house tonight for dinner. Unbelievable right? Haha. Anyway it was awesome. We took the train for a whole 45 mins and finally got to Cheltenham. In the end he picked us up from the train station a whole two hours after we originally planned to meet. Haha. Oops.
When we got to his house he continued cooking, behaving so perfectly adorable in front of the stove (I kid you not. Girls love it when guys can cook). Liz and I sat around and watched, and slowly fell in love... with his animals. Or at least I did. He's got two cats and two dogs and they are so adorable. One of his cats is an enormous tortoiseshell called Tigerlilly...
So yeah... it was a good evening. We ate, talked and I got to play with the animals. Thankfully his mum came in at 11 to remind us of the time before we missed the train.
Haha I'm so stuffed! I'm going to turn into a fat lillycat! *bleh*

10am
I found a Japanese name generator!
Apparently my name is: Miharu Kobayashi
So cute!

update: 94 hits and 3 reviews.

Gah... the internet is damn slow. Anyway I'm going to the library now. I've noticed that it now takes me forever to fall asleep at night. Been pondering over that island dream again. Weird.

11pm
update: 131 hits and 6 reviews.

Some reviewers are upset that one of the characters shot another one. Haha. Well... at least she didn't die. Even I'm not that heartless. *chuckle*

Had dinner at Audrey's with Liz. Everyone is mad at their boyfriends. Liz, Audrey, Kenn... I hope it all turns out ok in the end. It's times like these when I especially wish Mjelva was here. Sigh.

Oh, and I went to ask about transfering uni today. They told me that to complete the degree in Singapore wasn't possible. Looks like I might be staying after all. We'll see I guess.

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I had a dream about many scattered islands in a land of endless sun. An orange sky and coconut trees and the sound of the gentle waves. You were with me and we were stuck together on a strip of beach.
You unequivocally brought out the worst in me. Or... if I am to be fair - being around you made me bring out the worst in myself. A natural reflex.
I tried to view you as the stranger that you are to me now. The only way to bite back the caustic thoughts that threaten to slither past my gritted teeth.
And I know I've already been poisoned. I can feel it burning in my eyes, through my veins and I know that if you hurt me now I would bleed a substance black and thick like tar.
So on this strip of beach we sit, silence crashing like waves over our heads. And maybe we both crave similar things, a spotless mind in this eternal sunshine - or perhaps a sunstroke...

But I don't hate you. I don't think I could ever properly hate anyone... Unless maybe you kill that which is most precious to me and destroy the rest of my life... no, wait - someone else already did that... and I guess in some sick way I still love her.
No, I certainly don't hate you. I want to love you in some holistic Christian way. I want to see your life shine with joy and to be there for you when the waves crash over your head without you knowing I was there. Like a ghost - your own personal angel to somehow makes sure that you're okay.

Is total selflessness truly possible? For some reason, that trait more than any other used to be something that I tried to be. Of course it didn't really work all that well, but ages and ages ago I did try. So when I watch movies like a Walk to Remember, I can't help but wonder if it's truly possible.
But of course if I still cared for you, it would by no means be a selfless act. Part of me believes that it is just me trying to prove to myself that I'm not that reflexive monster. You once said that I had a good heart. I don't think I ever really believed you, but you've never made me want anything more since then. I want to rise above it. Rise above you, the teenager I put on a pedestal all those years ago.
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Ahahahaha... oh my god...
The pair of you will be the death of me...

Maybe I should just sell a kidney and try to stay here.
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I'm always going to worry about the things that could make us cold. And void. Especially void...

I have already told a few people that I might not be here next year. And just before I told Liz, she had mentioned something about staying in Melbourne and working for a while. It’s almost funny, really. The irony of role reversal...

But what really bugged me was her amazement that I’m not angry or sad or anything negatively passionate, as I probably should be. And I started thinking that maybe she’s right. Now I just can’t help but think that maybe there’s something wrong with me. I mean, looking at me you probably wouldn’t think I cared an ounce about my family. How unbelievably selfish...

And try as I may, I can’t seem to get a proper perspective about the whole thing. Am I really that horribly desensitized or am I just inhumanly selfish and callous, and is there even a difference?

Somehow I feel like I’m betraying someone, or something - that I should at least pretend to be affected. But another completely different side scorns the very idea. I don’t have to pretend for anyone. I shouldn’t have to, and I won’t.

But perception in this case it totally irrelevant. It’s not that I don’t care... I do (or at least that’s what I’d like to think), it’s just that caring isn’t going to do anything for me. Based on experience, it never affected anything I didn’t have control over. But whether I actually care or not (which I suppose remains unknown at this point), I can’t deny the fact that I feel nothing. And yes, I am bothered by it – as bothered as an unfeeling person may be – to a certain extent. Bothered about not being bothered.

Maybe my practicality has gone too far this time. Maybe reasoning has told me not to worry about things that can’t be solved by my own hands. Don’t resist it. Hakuna Matata.

But no... I’m not like that. Not really. In the past I’ve been known to pick at everything, worry excessively over everything. What happened?

There used to be feral snarling, bloodthirsty voices and thoughts that said things like ‘what about then?’ and ‘how very thoughtful of you...’, but it seems like they have long since disappeared. The creature that they tied to the pyre now sits in the pile of straw – stoic, perhaps with a book in her lap – waiting... slowly turning each page...

But what about the rest? Don’t I owe them some form of feeling? To those who’ve graced my life with their love and friendship? Of course I do.

Looking at this cynically, once could say that I’ve moved too much - that I’m somehow less attached. That I’m the cat that walked by herself and all places are alike to me... ‘people are replaceable’ and that sort of thing...

But that’s not true. Maybe I just think that some bonds of friendship are unbreakable, and therefore not something to worry about. In that sense, resettling would be, if anything, maybe a gaining experience. But certainly not a losing one.

As long as you’re still on the planet, still breathing and to an extent - reachable... then it’ll be okay right? Maybe due to all the moving, the world really is all that much smaller to me. When my dad moves from the kitchen to the study... he’s still there, right? Is that even really the way I see it? I can’t be sure.

Maybe it’s because I’m banking on the fact that everyone I love is somehow tied to Singapore – that even if they don’t live there then at least their families do. Maybe I’ll only really think I’m losing them when that link disappears and their families move away.

Of course it’s human nature to put things into self-perspective first. It’s heard all the time.

“You won’t be here anymore. You’re leaving me.”

It’s just that the thought behind this self-perspective is something I can’t completely understand. Not completely. I know I’m leaving, yes. We will be apart. But I don’t feel that I’m leaving you.

Yes, I am leaving the part of the world where your feet are momentarily planted, and I understand too well what it’s like to miss people. And I do and am capable of missing people.

But I’m not leaving you; whoever you may be. I’m just leaving.

And no... I don’t suppose you’re understanding any of this... At times I sound ridiculous even to myself.
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I guess I have my recent obsession to blame for the weird dreams that I've been having over the past few nights. I know I can completely blame the single episode of Angel that I tried watching for my dream yesterday.
It was so vivid. I dreamt that some body stealing daemon in a man's body was after me. All he had to do was hug me, and the thing would crawl out of his body and tear its way into mine. Freaky shit. I remember thinking, ok, any second now I am going to die. But of course, like in all dreams, I didn't. Instead I bolted awake at the very last second.
Last night's (or this morning's) dream was weird too. I dreamt that I was being followed down dark inner city streets by a guy called Michael O'Seanassy. I never spoke to him or saw much of his face. I also knew he couldn't or wasn't going to hurt me, but I didn't know why he followed me. All I really knew was his name.


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Robbie: Why do people slow down to look at car crashes?

Gwen: Because they want to see if someone's dead, and they want to be sure it's not them.

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Scream.
Until your heart explodes. Or your lungs. Not that it really matters which.
At least that way you won't have to read another email ever again as your bloodied fingers fight for grip on the edge of a desk - the only thing preventing you from falling into the bottomless abyss at your feet.

So call me reckless. Right now I want nothing more than to breakup with my boyfriend and disown all my friends on a pure whim. And maybe wash my hair. Just because I can.
It might even be fun...

But while I can destroy my life right now in less than ten moves, why should I lift a finger when you can do it all for me?
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Anorexics of the world unite against cream pies.

I'm supposed to be doing my ad analysis now for marketing comm, but I can't even decide which one to do. I'm torn between a romanticising LV ad with a cuddling couple in a hotel room and a surreal Swatch ad with strangely dressed girls throwing pies at each other outside a bakery.

I guess the Swatch ad would be more interesting, but I don't really know what it's meant to be promising. It probably promises 'fun', or maybe it's really supporting some underground anti-pie movement... I don't know.

On another note I'm finding it hard to care about anything right now. Freaking out about work and realizing that I haven't gotten over the too-cool-to-care highschool mentality.
Growl.
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A: What you’re asking of me... what you want... it’s different from what I want. Why should I do it?

B: But I am you. We want the same things.

[Silence.]

A: Then tell me that doing this will make me happier. Say it and I will do it.

B: It will make you happier.

A: But... how will I know that you’re telling the truth?

B: You asked me to say it. You didn’t say it had to be true.

A: So you lied to me?

B: You lie to yourself all the time. What makes this time any different?
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Gloves are off and I'm feeling reckless.

I'm in a semi-weird sort of mood right now. I'm not too sure why that is. Maybe it's got something to do with work or tomorrow. Or maybe it's got to do with how all acs boys are all the same.

Anyway... today was fun. Went to town with Audrey and Liz to get a dress for Audrey's eight month anniversary. She finally got this black dress from Dotti. A very nice dress. :)

I can't believe it's been a whole year for Mjelva and I. I mean... ok.. you can argue that we've only really been going out - in the literal sense - for only four months, but it seems like it was only yesterday that I was agonizing over being forced to ask him questions that I was afraid I wouldn't like the answers to.

Anyway... happy one year to us. :)
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Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I jolted awake instead of allowing myself to struggle with the phone alarm this morning, because I actually remember my highly weird dream very vividly.

How does one explain dreams?

It was firstly about these two guys in a big city. Gay couple? Business partners? Best friends? Two parts of the same person? Doesn't matter. I wasn't there. One was yelling at another one in the middle of crossing the road.

'I don't care what you say! I'm calling us unhappy. I recognise this behaviour! You're floundering!'

Then suddenly I was talking to my mum about changing jeans and being pressed for time to meet Kelly while knowing that I'm meant to board a flight in a little while. Mum was being difficult as usual and I was getting frustrated.

But anyway... the reason for jolting awake was the realization that I was meant to call Mjelva at 8.30am to wish him happy birthday.

Happy Birthday dear. :)
You're 21! A full fledged adult! Woo hoo! *grin*
I wish there was a way to make this day more special. Huggs.
Love you heaps.

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while there's a moon over Bourbon Street

So I'm giving myself up to this obsession. But it's ok. When was the last time I was this passionate about anything? If I wasn't warm and breathing you'd think I was already dead.

Anyhow... Life goes on.

Besides reading a lot, I've been watching Burn Notice with Terence. In my next life maybe I'll be a spy. Just cause it's cool - involving a lot of firearms, bugs, cars, wads of cash, homemade explosives and hair pins. You also get to be mysteriously sexy and emotionally distant. Haha. The job practically sells itself.

Went for salsa last night. Wasn't too bad. Ormond Hall. Met Paul again. And felt surprisingly less... hostile? irritated? indifferent? disdained? We even went for supper till about 3.30am. Liz, Paul and I just sat at Notti's and talked about the women (or rather: girls) in his life. Nothing new there. Well, not really.

So yeah... tomorrow I'm off again. Got plenty to do though. Library for some printing, bookshop, getting on top of readings and stuff... joy - but still.. better now than later. Post Office.

Anyway, back to the book. :)


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Back in Melbourne and now Kimmy's gone. :(

Breaking Dawn is out!! I have officially been AWOL for the past 24 hours, submerged in a love fantasy so deep that I couldn't leave my bed for more than 2.5mins until it was finished.
Sigh... I'm in love.

But on the other note I guess it's kind of nice to fall back into some sort of routine. Went to Salsa with Liz this evening and found out that it wasn't quite the nightmare-ish flesh market that I had somehow mentally built up in my absense. Maybe it's cause I got to dance with not sleezy people today, like Cameron mostly... and James once.

Cameron. I like infatuated Cameron. I can have a normal conversation with him and have fun. I can tease him about his crush and just... skip small talk and other types of bullshit. Just talk I suppose.

Going to post pictures up on facebook now. Will add the best ones here later.. maybe.. if i can be bothered.

Anyway... Edward Cullan calls... yet again.. so I depart.
(so shoot me, I'm reading it again.)
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Bitch Rant:

Why do they have to ruin every single good book by turning it into a movie?
Why don't people just learn to fucking read??

Use your own bloody imagination!
Stop ruining mine.

Growl.
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Ok... granted, I'm not exactly overflowing with smiles and laughter in some land of sweets and joy and joyness... but I don't think I quite deserve being called 'grumpy'. I'm just... more solemn today than I was a few days ago. Let's not worry too much about it alright? Was a little stressed and frustrated in Funan.

Anyway... Dom and I watched Batman: The Dark Knight in town at 8.30. It was amazing. So loaded and so very twisted. Aww man... Heath Ledger.. Wouldn't have imagined it to end the way it did though, but then again I'm not that familiar with the story of Batman. All I remember watching as a kid where the super cheesy batman series that played on Starworld when I lived in either Vietnam or K.L... and then again I only watched that cause it was after Friends. Haha.

On a completely separate note... I was looking through one of my notebooks left over from secondary school and I found all my old poems, including one that Auds wrote to me! It goes as follows:

Quit playing games with my heart

Martina took my heart today,
No, she stole it, stole it away
And first I thought it was okay.

She treated it good
Treated it well and great
If she could she'd give it food.

Then one day
She placed in on the floor
And stamped on it till it was sore.

That's what Martina did to me
That's what she did to my heart.
Played with it till it broke apart.

Audrey Kua.

Haha sure brings back memories. Ah... the good old days. Hehe.
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so kiss me and smile for me

And he's gone... *sobs*

He's left on a friggin jet plane...
Don't know when he'll be back again...
Oh babe I hate to let you go...

But just so you know... (um..)
We'll be here missing you..
Until our toes turn blue...
Best wishes in all that you learn.
Can't wait till you return!

(ok girl... don't quit your day job..)

And as inconceivable as the thought of Mjelva actually leaving really was, there was also a lingering sense of deja vu when reflecting on today. I mean... it's impossible that he's left, but at the same time most of us know what it's all like - the pure havoc of last second packing (yes, you probably did forget something behind...), the people you're happy to leave for now (your family) and those you wish you could stuff into your luggage (your friends)... And you're excited and so friggin scared at the exact same time. Moo.

Anyway... to you dear:
Please don't throw away my socks if you find them in your suitcase. You're free to wear them if you really want to I suppose...might be a bit small for you. Haha. I hope you have a good flight with no complications in Heathrow. Have a wonderful time with your mum and brother and settle in quickly. Love you lots and miss you already. Dom said he's never seen me happier than the times when I'm with you... and who knows, he's probably right. Anyhow... hopefully I'll talk to you soon. Huggggs.


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Sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills.

Sigh...
Struggling so hard with American Politics, flitting between panic attacks and not caring. I don't know anything. And my exam is friggin tomorrow. Oh help.
And I know it isn't hard. It's not meant to be.

To make everything worse I think I'm allergic to something unknown because I'm itchy once again.


Life is a bitch.
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My bed is gone?? She's gotten rid of my bed! What the hell!! How small is my new room anyway?! Sigh. Everyone who's ever lain on that bed told me that it was a super comfortable bed. *Sobs*
But then again... after all that I've already lost, what is one super comfortable queen size bed to me? Nothing. Just another tiny, retarded detail in my already stupid life. Either way, I shall miss it.


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Update on Stats

Level: 4
Armor: 6.5
Agility: 5.4
Intelligence: 2

Feeling: Very stressed.

Temptations: Sleep. Salsa. Reading. Retail therapy. Rabbit.

Recent Events:
Yesterday: Gym-ing with Elliot, Terence and Liz. Audrey joined us for dinner.
Today: Study with Terence. Safewaying with Audrey. Essay yet to be submitted.

Constant thoughts:
I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die...
Fat. Scars. Damn ugly.
Can't wait for this term to end.

Tomorrow:
Run around like a headless chicken doing things that have to be done related to essays, bills and money.

Looking forwards to:
Mjelva ord-ing, essays being handed in, exams being written, going home, Sabah, seeing Kimmy.

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I switched to the itunes window and looked for a song to play, wishing that Dom would somehow wake up and continue our msn conversation. It seemed impossible to return to those feelings of loss and longing for all those things that have passed away, but yet there I was at 5 in the morning in that exact same place where I had been all those times before. Of course this time things were different. More had passed out of my life these recent months and situations had changed, but that didn't stop the fact that no matter what I did I wouldn't get it back. And I guess I thought I had already lost it all, but life always has it's ways of surprising you and I guess I was wrong. I still had some things to lose as I had just learned, and so to the surprise of my own feelings I lose, again.

And then I wondered, when does it stop? When do we stop mourning the things we've lost? Sure, time always helps everything, but time is a funny thing. It takes away and causes grief and then gradually we forget or think less and less about what it has taken.

But then at night when it is darkest and you're all alone, a night very unlike this one, Dispair will find your heart with her knife. And you will wither in pain in your sheets and scream into the depths of your pillow.

However, once the tears have gone and the pain has passed and you linger on these thoughts as you wait for sleep or dreams or something more permanent, these very thoughts sap your will and purpose and you wonder why you honestly give a damn. And as you yearn for the comfort you need, you begin to realize that there isn't any and so you turn towards the wall with your back to the world.

But in the morning you wake. The rush of the world greets you like a six month old puppy- demanding and full of energy. Other than the slightly darker circles around your eyes, the void of the night has left you without a trace. And you go about your day, filling the minutes and hours with meaning and purpose.

And another day goes by followed by another week and another month, and one day you'll look back and remember and maybe be surprised to realize that it doesn't hurt anymore.




Dream: You should have gone to her funeral.
Orpheus: Why?
Dream: To say goodbye.
Orpheus: I have not yet said goodbye to Eurydice.
Dream: You should. You are mortal: it is the mortal way. You attend the funeral, you bid the dead farewell, you grieve. Then you continue with your life. And at times the fact of her absence will hit you like a blow to the chest and you will weep. But this will happen less and less and times goes on.

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