We will become silhouettes.

may I feel said he

(I'll squeal said she

just once said he)

It's fun said she

(may I touch said he

how much said she

a lot said he)

why not said she

(let's go said he

not too far said she

what's too far said he

where you are said she)

may I stay said he

(which way said she

like this said he

if you kiss said she

may I move said he

is it love said she)

If you're willing said he

(but you're killing said she

but it's life said he

but your wife said she

now said he

ow said she

(tiptop said he

don't stop said she

oh no said he)

go slow said she

(cccome? said he

ummm said she)

you're divine! said he

(you are mine said she)

- e.e cummings 

For my best friend.

Ages ago.

There are things in this world that I don't understand. Like love, war, gravity, or the lay of the land. All of these remain mysteries,But one thing is for sure;You are worth living for.

We grow up so fast.

Sincerity over simple chords.

[Danny, Widya, Lydia]

*

I sincerely hope that I'm wrong

and this never happens again.

I was angry, Bry was "mildly annoyed" hahaha,

and we went off into the night,

with Bry giving me interesting analogies and

advice about two people that

I just can't seem to get around.

The person that I see way way way too much

for our own good.

Sometimes I wonder why I even say okay

when I know it'll just cause a whole mess,

and sometimes when I don't even want to.

But some nights I just don't want to

be alone.

Some nights I can't kid myself.

We. Need. To. Stop.

The person that I see occasionally,

little snatches of time, almost ... never.

What now?

Bry says I can do it.

It'll just take time and a lot of effort.

But hasn't it been like, fucking forever?

And haven't I tried?

Over and Over again?

I guess, in all truthfulness, this

is where I want to be.

But no, it doesn't make me happy.

*

I listened to Anthems For A Seventeen Year Old Girl

on repeat to sleep,

and I dreamt about little girls getting impaled

by sharp shiny knives, the same

song pouring from their dying lips.

I woke up, wondered what this could possibly mean,

and then kept it on repeat.

I guess we'll just have to adjust.

Normalcy is people being late, but

everyone being okay with it

because we've all done it once. 

[Twice? Three times?]

It is changing the meeting place constantly,

it's talking loudly and slapping tables

with palms, it's finding out weird

things that you never knew

about the people who used

to go to school with you.

It's sitting on floors and by rivers,

it's finding that perfect photo spot.

It's loving your friends,

it's talking about the "old days".

Normalcy is when I don't have to care

about what you think of me,

cause you have already seen

everything there is to see.

Ah school again, I can feel my back seizing up already.

Damn laptop.

I want your lungs to stop working without me.

I think about writing you

I thought about calling you

I have chinese paper lanterns and a paper flower mobile

hanging from my aircon,

and The To Write Love On Her Arms story

tacked up over my bed.

I'll hold this loss in my heart forever

I know I'll hold, I'll hold

The only person you could [should] have been

thinking of was me.

I really wonder if one day I'll just

cease to care.

I think I'm expecting too much.

I'll hold this pain in my heart forever

I know I'll hold, I'll hold

School has been surreal.

[This, this is going to be my education?]

It's scary shit now that there isn't somebody

shoving your learning down your throat.

People are ... different.

And interesting, yay.

*

My shades get around more than I do.

[Jean, Danny.]

Got her head turned down and her collar turned up.

Tessa, and Danny, my pink shades and 

The Best Damn Thing that your eyes have ever seen.

*

I have bloody four hours to kill tomorrow

between my last tutorial and Spanish.

Knowing me, I'll just mope around reading

Haruki Murakami and think about the past,

and the here and now, 

and how everything links up.

Actually it doesn't.

Actually I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

I just want back in your head.

Relax into the need

We get so comfortable 

Remember when I was 

So strange and likeable?

I sit, with one leg tucked under me,

thinking about awkward situations and

tinkling music playing overhead,

songs sung under your breath,

thoughts in my head not spoken.

A boy singing about a girl, and love?,

sounding a bit tinny and uncertain,

coming from my MacBook.

Strangely enough, I want a smoke.

Climbing out the window and chucking the

evidence in The Locked Drawer seems too

big of a stunt now though.

You're the old hurt,

the wound I won't let scab over fully before picking,

the cut on the roof of my mouth that would heal

if only I'd just stop tonguing it.

Remember when I was

Sweet and unexplainable? 
Nothing like this person, 
Unlovable

Tegan & Sara on my bus/train rides,

staring into my reflection in the glass,

waiting and counting on the fact that

another second gone may mean a change

in my fate.

I'm waiting for my hair to grow out.

I'm waiting for my complexion to clear.

I'm waiting to like what I see, 

in the mirror or around me.

I'm waiting to Accept and Adapt.

I'm allowing In-Between Time to fall away now.

I'm waiting for you, or maybe,

more likely, just Godot.

So I'll be here always.

*

The First Day of School today, my Contemporary Issues

class seems pretty cool.

I talked to a few more people, I think I'm

getting the hang of this. [I hope]

Flag Football anyone?

And photog of course, I'm excited.

Pink shades, my trusty Vans and black pants, a paperback,

a notebook and a handful of pens:

I am ready to face another school day!

I hope you gain some confidence.

My friend count is currently up to two, which is a good start I think,

since I'm the 'awkward in large groups of new people' 

type of [sad sad] girl.

We were terribly misinformed about the *ahemcutenessahem*

of people in FMS [damn] but that's okay,

maybe I'll feel slightly less inadequate and weird.

I'm a bit scared about monday.

I am sure I will 1) Get lost and/or be late to class

2) Not have the necessary things

3) Say something stupid/offensive to my classmates,

thus eliminating any chance of me upping the count

My tattoo count, on the other hand,

is up to four, number four being

terribly itchy and kind of scabby at this current 

moment in time.

It's for The Kids, late nights, The Van and being

Young and Alive.

No class Fridays, I am a Free Girl.

*

When two or more people share the same opinion,

independent of each other [seeing as to the fact that they 

don't KNOW one another],

does that call for me to believe that what they say

may actually be true,

as much as I don't want to?

I still feel you pulse like sonar from the days in the waves.

Our day was a blur of digging out cans of spray paint

in our chosen colours to begging for cardboard

to shouting like crazies, the shaking of the metal in the cans

a constant as we ran around, threatening each other

with our pink, orange and blue,

complaining about the sun beating down on us

but loving every minute.

Best friends forever bitches!

...So it's true.

Why did we ever doubt?

The wall is sacred, we're not telling you where.

Kevin was awfully cute, playing the host when

Cara and I traipsed to his house at the other end of the Earth

[CHINESE GARDEN!!], banging on the door and calling

"keeeeeeevin!"

He was scared by a moth and his hamster.

All three of us wore chucks, because we're cool like that.

When we were done playing the vandal,

we headed down to Cara's place for cool showers,

Fight Club in the basement, bubbles and dancing under

the photo collage wall, and talking out on

the balcony as the sun went down.

Cue the credits, cause what Kev said is right.

Such a movie ending, it was lovely.

I want more days like that.

And seeing that Cara passed her driving test today [yay!]

I foresee that we will [yay!]

*

Orientation tomorrow, oh my.

and kisses are a better fate than wisdom.

My 'Work in Progress' wall.

*

Slipping my haikus through the gap.

Today's the day that will keep you going forever.

*

I don't need to know, I don't care.

I will never be fourteen again, and

seventeen ain't [going to be] so sweet.

Hand-holding, guitars in laps,

sitting on curbs, lustlustlust, those

hothot days and those warm pretty nights.

And being in love was just like being alive.

I won't listen and I won't settle.

"What's it going to be then, eh?"

"Think that over a few years and re-read the book

before making that mistake.

I think it's the type of book you grow out of, that's all."

"Which would make it a momento of right now."

I don't know how I feel about people out there

feeling the same way I do about

something that I love so much.

I want to share but ...it's mine,

you know what I mean?

I remember when the days were long, And the nights when the living room was on the lawn.

I lace my Chucks, I walk the aisle
I take my pills, the babies cry
All I hear is what's playing through
The in-flight radio

I'm a weeping mess behind my bubblegum pink
shades, dipping into the container of
chocolate frosting for comfort.
I answer back to my mother first thing
in the morning, so as to make
the rest of the day unbearable.
And I miss you, like it’s my job.

So read your books, but stay out late

Some nights, some nights.

I don't know how the end goes.

Feeling infinite forever, starting on saturday.

My hair is growing out and curling at the tips.

I wonder how many times I've had it cut

in my lifetime

and I feel unbearably old for my sixteen years.

Nobody gets that I'm not depressed anymore,

merely wistful and whimsical,

a little loopy and loud

but that's okay.

I see you little and think of you a lot

and that's fine.

A year or two never killed anyone.

I can't believe I was ever that young.