t e m p t a t i o n

Suffice to say I'm sitting on cloud 8.
I can only count 137.5 different way that my life could be better. 100 of them include food. 5 of them include money. And the other 32.5 revolve around what I could be doing after I finish exams.

late night & deep in thought

After much soul searching, i have finally somewhat managed to work myself out and piece the tiny facets of personal understanding together, in order to make this mother of an assumption. Not to go without saying, I am in no way using the "I'm at a confusing age" excuse to pardon my deliberations. Oh no, this is pure mental-ness and brain dribble at its finest. What I have discovered about myself, is that I have this perpetual inability to remain calm. I am a worrier. Also, I am self conscious and slightly paranoid... which I guess can all roll into one giant ball of insanity. I suppose what I hate most about myself is that I always think I've done something wrong to other people. "Are you mad at me?"
After asking this question several times, I feel like I am being annoying. And the vicious cycle continues until I realise that I should have shut the eff up, at least 10 minutes ago.
So I pose the question, HAVE I DONE SOMETHING WRONG? because I'm kinda freakin out here!
It's one thing for virtual neglectfulness, but real life ignorance? Not cool.
I guess I just want to be in the 'know', and get out of this shady region I'm stuck in now.

Just to be sure.

Many thanks,

-A-

mind. blown.

Between from Via Grafik on Vimeo.

BIG BANG BIG BOOM - the new wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.

This wouldn't be the first time

And again, I ask with a subconscious answer, Does self expression still exist if you have restrictions?


My rational mind is saying yes, yes it does. The limitations only create a different interpretation of self expression. It is just a version of it.

My burning, tear filled eyes tell me otherwise.
That, and along with an uncontrollable desire to plaster profanities smack bang, left, right and center of every post.

Merely to express the propensity of my anger.

Does this make dreaming a crime? An oasis? An unattainable entity, apart from when one is in a subconscious state?

-A-

the soundtrack to my life.

Neon trees

After many months of filling up my metaphorical, non-existent, overflowing bucket, I have finally completed my first one

(YAY)

# SOMETHING: To get fake nails.

And although i fully intend to fulfill everything on my list, this one was painful and I have possibly learnt a life lesson and acquired many new skills with these claws. I also have a new found respect for the perpetual acrylic nail customer, and admire their ability to pick wedgies with these things.
Not that easy... not that easy.

-A-

shiohgnksdgn!!!

I hate you.


Rage, rage, rage. Anger, anger, anger.
Me punching you.

the little things that make my day.

In the face!

And yet again, I have precariously fallen, and most certainly crash landed. Face first. Into a pile of dog shit. In a dump. Within a dump. Within a dumpster.

So here I am.
Almost too aware of the predestination I was about to uncover. Very much acquainted with your past.
It foreshadowed the now.

And right now, I'm thinking I should give myself more credit. Turns out I'm right more often than usual, Exhibit A: Le Situazione.

I know what you're going to say already, so hush.
And when I said I was going to fly kick you in the face, I wasn't joking. So keep laughing mister, that way, you'll never suspect a thing *innocent smile*

BAM! IN THE FACE!

Plain Jane

If only I was fancy enough to be able to do something awesome to my blog. I guess it'll have to wait til after the big HSC, and then i can attempt to make this thing look somewhat half decent. Until then, it's crappy McCrappy for me.


Sighing.

I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious

Time is the thief that steals our day

Tick-Tock.
Tomorrow.

Possibly my favourite ad ever...

HAHAHAHAHA!

drawing conclusions

And here is my conclusion for the day...
It's about stereotyping, in particular a certain TV program involving the beauty's and the geeks.
You see, here's my issue. (More so about the beauty's than the geeks)

Issue numero uno:
I find it rather degrading that these socially dehydrated males, perhaps the first time ever speaking to a person in the bodily form of a female, are subjected to these hopeless, not to mention completely idiotic and numb-skulled, bimbos.

Issue numero due:
Does this mean that to be a beauty, one which is acceptable to the media, they have to posses such a disposition? (refer to idiotic and numb-skulled)
Or even, to be a "beauty", you need to be completely brainless? Hmmm...

What irks me the most is that these are all females, all of the same kind- Blonde hair, possibly illiterate and have an AMAZING ability to store silicon in their breasts. Is this what it means to be beautiful? Where are all the smart girls??

Smart girls are beautiful too, god dammit!


This is a misrepresentation of females. And now I feel slightly feminist...

Oh yeah, I finished two HSC exams already. The light at the end of that long tunnel is dim... but still visible :)

The calm before the storm

You always know it's coming.
Because the silence amplifies
and is 10 times louder.


And then the thunder rolls in...

It's like you've fallen off the face of the earth.

Where are you?

*awkwarddddd*

HAHAHA
It's moments like these that make life interesting.
And, might I add, I always find myself stuck in the middle of them.

It's like I have this AMAZING ability to make an awkward situation 10 x worse.

At the end of the day, whenever or wherever the awkward moment, I can laugh at myself.
(Even if I'm by myself and feel paranoid that people just saw what idiotic thing I just did/said)

"Now I feel like a douche"

Harold the Hermit

rant, rant, rant, blah, blah, blah, a whole lot of useless shit that is, my life.

I think I've fallen in love with someone I've never met.
Is that even possible? lolllll!


I'm so bored of life.

One week to go.


Sweet jesus.

Phonesack

So last night, while on the phone to a very good friend of mine, i decided to keep track of our train of thought... The conversation was great.

The hours
A peg
Hanging out clothes
Rosey thinking she invented the game
Ant on her!
Eating on the toilet
My mum
Word association game
My mum
Judgment
Singing- "what's water got to do, got to do with it?" (HAHA)
My childhood drowning experience
Thinks she's Dr. Phil
Thinks she's Oprah's cousin
Debating, blind or deaf?
She loves me
Faux tales
Thai dish?
Have I ever had a dog?
No
Because she ate it (HAHAHAHAH!!)
The real Jesus- me or rosey?
Virtuous
Africans
they're cooler than being an Arab or a Jew.

I love my friend :)

An Imaginary Life

"What else should our lives be, but a continual series of beginnings, of painful settings out into the unknown, pushing off from the edges of subconsciousness into the mystery of what we have not yet become, except in dreams... "

Ignorance is Bliss

Three words
A phrase which I have never really understood.
But then again, what seventeen year old would?
Who desires ignorance?

Bliss.
A state of 'being'.
Of smelling, touching, hearing, seeing.
A state evoking the senses of an oblivious child.
Ignorant.
Vulnerable.
Perhaps, every once in a while...
But who wants to be any of those things?

A key.
To lock up insecurities, doubts and fears.
Throw it,
Hide it.
Holding back tears.
To expose your truth equates to unbridled, reckless youth?

The big, bad world is waiting to gobble you up and spit you out.
I'll play Goldilocks
Bemused by the ticks and tocks of inevitable time.
Clumsy me, It's faux.
A fable
A fairytale

Wake up!
(flailing)
Take this, try this
(Drowning)
This notion 'reality'?
Or predetermined fatality?

Sweet sixteen,
Never had a kiss?
Why would you want to grow up?
When Ignorance is Bliss

Don't dream it,

Be it.

Not really, no.

I despise the fact that you confuse everything I do, with a desire to 'popular'.
I do the things I do because I want to. I don't want to "fit in" with the popular crowd.

Not only do I disagree with the concept of being popular, I hate the fact that people walk around, deluded into thinking that their shit don't stink, are completely self absorbed and place themselves and their posse` up on a giant pedestal of conceit.

So, no. I don't want to be popular. Never have, never will. Everything I've done and everything I will do, is for me. Not for the benefit of anyone else.

Pretty sure my "integrity" will remain, irrespective of my motives.