usable information.

i just realised that blogspot is the older, more refined, brother of tumblr. he blogs about life thoughts and daily turmoil.
tumblr, however, is the snarky younger sister that blogs about coffee and posts deep and meaningful photos included skinny girls and candy.
the blogging family is quite a sad chunk of life.

burnt and covered in paint

assignments are nearly finished and thus comes exams. i'm very scared of my modern history assignment. it's apparently very long and very hard and i probably shouldn't procrastinate as much. but i think i can pull it off. i actually just performed my BCT assignment, which nearly killed me. i stuttered heaps and it was just baaaaad. but i feel confident about my marks.

hdjksdf

i love exams. i'd rather sit an exam than do an assignment. assignments are no fun at all. it's like eating an ice block. you get the ice-block (class), you sit there and eat it (class-time work), but then you have to cram it all in your mouth and cause a very painful brainfreeze (assignment). and then after the brain rape is gone, you must reflect on the taste of the ice block, regardless of the pain felt prior, thus creating a horrible bias (exam). all in all, if i didn't have to cram that ice block and freeze, i think i wouldn't mind school.

to re-inforce ellie goulding's beauty

but i've got a plan

why don't you be the artist

and make me out of clay?

why don't you be the writer

decide the words i say?

cause i'd rather pretend

i'll still be there at the end

only it's too hard to ask

won't you try to help me?

sat on your sofa
it's all broken springs
this isn't the place for
those violin strings
i try out a smile
and i aim it at you
you must have missed it
you always do


you wait
i wait
casting shadows
interrupted


only it's too hard to ask
won't you try to help me?

golden.

you can fall if you want to

it's just a matter of how far

you've treasured our home town

but you've forgotten where you are

and it will stay with you until you're mind's been found

and it has been found wandering around

with that skipping rope, the trampoline

the crafty smoke that made us choke

but we didn't give up hope

it's just the simple ways, of getting paid

the carelessness of running away

i wish I stayed

patterns all arranged in my background

it's pillars and posts keeping this country on form

letters were all sent with no addresses

so that people can't discover

always undercover

why do i always draw triangles

instead of words this paper so deserves

you see

i don't own my clothes but i own my mind

and it's not what you've lost

but it's what you find.

:)

my turn.

my cousin todd told me that my blog was depressing on saturday night. i was a little ashamed of my melancholy ways, so on sunday i went searching for happy pictures or something generally uplifting. i came up with this;


oh wait...

morgan freeman.

my mother is angry at me because i refuse to clean my room.

i wish i was a sloth. mother sloths don't ask teenage sloths to clean their rooms. not that sloths have rooms, but i suppose a sloths bedroom would be the branch they wrap themselves around. but i find it hard to believe that sloths would have to clean their bedroom/branches because they're fucking sloths.
don't get me wrong, i love my mother, but in spite of her i have compiled a list of things i would be able to do if she wasn't around:

1. live like a sloth
2. own a cat
3. pierce my ears
4. keep my best friends
5. keep my boyfriends
6. enjoy the company of hookers
7. love jesus
8. work at coles
9. believe in miracles
10. go to hogwarts

all that aside, i suppose we have to sacrifice things we want for the ones we love. things i have accomplished with her around;

1. lived
2. breathed
3. laughed
4. loved

some things out-weigh the others.

tony abbott is a tool.

contempt. it's never been so strong in my life.
n-o spells no, i just have to put that out there. i'm actually thinking that no one can hear me properly because whenever i speak i've noticed that my input doesn't actually matter.
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. can you hear that?

passion,

nobody knows you the way you know you,
but i think i do

cassie

say anything

i love life, but life has a boyfriend;
bless my heart, i'm out to destroy them.

so i've been listening to 'say anything's newest album lately. i've never really gotten into them before, actually, even though i have their discography. i only just recently decided to download their latest album, and i'm fairly sure i'm glad. i'm attempting to figure out whether my favorite song off that album is 'cemetery' or 'eloise'. regardless, the album is fucking awesome.

other than that, i have decided to re-watch the skins series and maybe stop biting my nails. i also have to work tomorrow, which is a little sad face but i think i'll live. i've raped my headphones with some foreign object so i think i need to get a new pair of those, too. huh.

i do doubt that anyone really cares about my shopping list but i'm fairly sure that a blogs main purpose is to tell strangers the boring details of your life. i'm not wearing shoes.

hah!

things like this shouldn't make me laugh.

oh hey.

less cute.

this morning my bus broke down on the side of the road. we were near a gas station, about a five minute drive to my house.
previous to that, i had actually missed my bus. realizing i had left my coffee at home i turned around to go grab it - morning would be a blur without my coffee. when i was rounding the corner to my stop, the bus drove straight past. i was devastated, forcing myself to walk the extra five minutes to another stop. thank god i got on the bus.
with my coffee in hand i was finally on my way to school. i love getting to school early, and on the risk of sounding like a nerd, i love school. it's a great wind down from all the mess in my head.
we stopped at the gas station to pick up someone, and when we went to pull away, the bus driver didn't pull onto the road. we were simply driving on the side of the road, like a timid child trying to cross without their parent. we suddenly stopped and the driver popped her head around the side. "we've broken down," she said "we've got a bus coming from pagent".
pagent is fucking far away.

anyway, moral of the story is, well, i don't know. maybe fate had a very sick butterfly effect in store for me this morning. maybe god's punishing me for doing drugs (caffeine, ahah), or maybe i should just start making mum drive me to school again. either way, i'm still in a shitty mood from the lack of signal on my phone and the amount of coffee i sculled in five minutes. and kaylah's not here today. boo.

cemetery.

you're in my body, you're in my body,

that's where i think about you.

kooks.

i need your heart beating next to my heart
in love, i am

simple as.

i have come to the conclusion that most of my peers are complete pricks. with the exception of a few, this class of 2011 have gotten to be so bad that i'm embarressed to be seen with them. i miss my old grade, because at least they had respect. this class, however, does not and i am forced to be here when i'd much rather be thinking about graduation other than a summer job.

completely unaware of what i was getting myself into, i thought 'hey, i'll make friends with everyone and not be such a damn bitch like i used to be.' and here i am, trying my hardest to be the nice new girl that everyone doesn't hate. but my hardest does not work.

we are supposed to be in high school. this is not middle school and i am not the same stupid, big-mouthed demon child i used to be. to be poetic, i would say that i am a rock face, and the seas of america has worn be down to be a smooth and shiny surface of now. but i am not feeling poetic.

to further my rant, i'm going to use my 11:11 wish on the hope of the end of teenage bitchiness and the beginning of a new age with contentness of who we are and who we want to be.

all summer.

convincing myself that life was going to return to normal after my year in the USA was really quite easy. unfortunately, seeing my peers at school one afternoon, i realised that it was not as simple as it seemed.

breaking out of a fresh mold, i figured that life isn't going to be easy, nor is it going to remain the same. a year is a long time and i finally realise that nothing will ever stay still for me. i paint my nails different colors but the polish still chips off over time. i suppose that's how it's meant to go.

my mother is a firm believer in karma, and growing up with her constantly by my side i've come to find that karma makes a lot more sense than people give credit for. Taoism is a brilliant thought. bad things happen to bad people and there will always be a little darkness in the good times; there will always be a glimmer of light in the bad.

taking into consideration that i grew to hate everything, seeing life from someone else's point of view has really changed me. i guess what i'm trying to say is that even though things may seem bleak there'll always be something good to come; life is not worth crying over. we only get one shot.

/deepandmeaningful

why i love kaylah

well, if you think about it, kaylah is not really that cool. when it comes to insults and jeers she's pretty well dominating in that field, but her overall coolness appeal is kinda weird. i mean, wow, that bag that she owns (the one from the thrift store) is like, 'cool, did someone throw up on an old lady?'

but obviously i'm kidding. kaylah is pretty much a BAMF and the fact that she has awesome hair really adds to her all 'round coolness. regardless of the fact that she likes to give herself self high fives, she's fairly awesome. i don't know, i think this is going to be a great friendship on the horizon.

picture unrelated. its a duck.

tired.

she broke down and i
broke down, 'cause
i was tired of lying.
driving back to her
apartment, for the
moment we're alone.
she's alone.
i'm alone.
now i know it.

brick - ben folds five.

day-late.

your eyes crystalize around my gaze and i'm trapped beside you. i am completely aware that you're beautiful. my chest is filled with a light weight, stuffed with something warm and smothering. my mouth feels like cotton and i tug my hair with nerves.
i want to kiss you, but i can't, and i know that we're impossibile. it hurts, but i know that if i even suggest the chance it'd hurt you more.
thus my lips are sealed and my ships afloat. i will become day-late and older without the wiser. you will grow to be something brilliant, like i always knew you would, and when we meet again i know that i could never touch you like i did before.

dirt.

what have i become?
my sweetest friend,

everyone i know

goes away in the end.

and you could have it all;

my empire of dirt.

i will let you down.

i will make you hurt.

hurt - johnny cash.

inevitable.

i watched him sleep. he was tucked up next to me, positioned in such a way that only he could pull off. his hair was curled beautifully around his sharp face and all i could do was wish to touch the boy i fell in love with. i wanted to reach out, just to feel him breathe under my palm and have his soft skin caress my unworthy fingers.

but yet all i can recall after that is the wonder as to how he could do that, and why i would ever trust anyone with my heart. they argue that it was a mistake, yet if a mistake goes unpunished how will anyone learn?

my silver box will stay locked until someone is brave enough to build a key.