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ramblings of a teenage girl

Hey People,

Despite me and my mind in overdrive (super hyper today), I am trying to fix up my blog so that it looks half worthy of your attention. Bear with me peoples and I will have a worthy post up tomorrow!

(I will answer the question to days 6 & 7 tomorrow)

BYe!

(ignore everything but the posts!!! It is much harder to edit the codes than i though...gah trial and error it is for me! Or Guess and check, whatever you want to call it people)

It is said you learn more from your failures than your triumphs. But I think the truth in this sentence comes from how you recognise your failures. I for one, barely care about the times I well, okay well I do care, but I try not to show it. It just means that my sad attempts at work are supposedly up to standard. But failures? It means the whole world is a disaster and life is not worth living. It's ever so over the top (for me!), but failures are so much more of a big deal than triumphs. Because...well I don;t know why. My philosiphical thinking has brought me to another dead end.

=.=

There is mufti day tomorrow. And as Coral from my maths class correctly pointed out today, it is basically like paying money to wear your own clothes. I think I will go in uniform because I'm not really in favour of supporting the SPCA anyway. I don't particularly like animals haha.

I think most teachers are getting really titchy at the moment. Must be exams. But if this is them titchy now, I am dreading when exams actually kick in! Gee, stop taking it out on the year 10s! We don't need the extra bitchiness floating around.

For some strange reason, I am listening to Christmas carols. I'm in a weird sort of celebratory mood. Even though we don't even celebrate anything in our house. And I think I should write my own christmas song.

Today's question...5. Tell us about your favourite colours.
My favourite colour, by far, will always be red. Scarlett. Mahogany. Purple. As long as it has red it is awesome. I love red, because red erupts feelings of passion and glory and anger and everything intense. It is the colour of the blood that flows inside of us, it is the lucky colour of the Chinese culture, and all things oriental haha.
Red is invigorating, it is intense, it is love and hate together.
It is me :)

Tomorrow, I have to go back on my word. I dread the reaction, I dread the regret.
But one thing is learned,
Never make promises you can't keep.

I wonder if there is ever a point when we human beings stop asking why. Why? Out of all the question starters they teacher us in primary, this is by far the most vague. All it seems to do is provoke more questions. I think as soon as we begin to ask questions, we just become accustomed to 'why' because it applies to everything.

The question I need to ask now is, why? Why is it that no matter what I do, the mark stays on 55? Do the scales ever lie?
I eat nothing, I eat a couple of horses worth of food, I train, I don't train, I do the unadvisable, I stay on the side of sanity (if that is even possible). It really doesn't matter, because my weight is rock solid 55kg.
121 POUNDS!
Why does it never change?!?!?!?!
WHY DOESN'T IT GO DOWN?!!?!?

Maybe I should just give up. Years of intensive googling have not proven successful.

I wonder,
Why do colours provoke thought and emotion?
Why must we possess the ability to sacrifice?
Why do people become disillusioned by their own images?
Why am I worth the priviledge of existence?
Why are we granted the priviledge/curse of living when death is so simple?
Why is life and the like so complex?
Why do people lecture me so often?

Shall I proceed to answer the above?

I'll do the ones I feel are the most important.
Or maybe the ones I know how to answer.

Why do people lecture me so often?
It is because I am so dumb and retarded and fat and horrible and 'disruptive' and insolent and disobedient and arrogant and loud and unacceptably inconsiderate that I get lectured and tongue lashed and chin wagged left, right and centre. If there is something I am doing wrong, right, good or bad, there will no doubt be someone there to express their opinion on the matter and give me their advice...well I have some words for you.
I don't need your freaking advice! I am sick and tired of your face. You hear that? If you are not willing to listen to my own, then why should I listen to yours? Stop telling me I'm good, stop telling me I'm bad, don't talk to me at all. Ignore me. I am so used to being ignored. That's why I turned out to be so utterly demented.
Indirectely- (Gah, don't be a suck up all the time okay?)

I give up. that's all I can answer. What the hell, why is everything half done around me?
So retarded.

It is ironic that somehow, English has resumed it's reign as my favourite subject. It's the subject where we are ENCOURAGED to talk about our opinions, rather than being told to shut up. I need to write a couple of book reviews, which would probably be a good thing since I read far to much for my own good, but I'm supposed to make a book blog...and I don't like using my google site...I find it much too difficult to log onto my school email da dee da dee da and then organise the posts and what not, so either I create a new blog, or I make a new page here, which will be interesting.
I'll find a way.

4.Talk about your closest friends.
I don't like getting too close to people. Thus I use the term 'friends' sparingly...hmmm...I think I have spawned many love hate relationships. Many, many love hate relationships. I don't have any 'close friends', either because I am too scared to accept that a relationship has merged into a 'close friendship' or because I go back on my word, or because I'm too unpredictable. I think it is because I am just too weird to be able to relate to others in more that 2 or 3 ways. It is terrible. And then there's the whole trust factor, I'm not good at trusting other, and people shouldn't be good about trusting me...I like to work on my own, because then I don't have to rely on others to do the job for me. I get frustrated when the standard of their work is not up to my own, or when my own standard of work is below my on expectations, and then I blame it on myself anyway. I hate group/team work. I am not good at cooperating with other people's will. I should stop burning all the freaking bridges. This is why I wish to embark on a life of solitary confinement hahaha.
I would much rather to be alone my whole life than be traumatised by the making of terrible choices and bad relationships, anymore than I already have. Or at least I could hate everyone. That would be a good start to living life alone.

I pissed the maths teacher off badly today. Sorry Mrs. Sood, I didn't mean to be so 'disruptive'.
Gee, I guess you don't know me at all. I'm naturally disruptive. It would be my middle name, if I had one. Perhaps my lack of ability to relate to others comes in here, because I am ever so inconsiderate. I think All teachers are pissed off by my presence.
Even I'm sometimes pissed off by my own presence/actions/trivial matters.

Goodie goods have no fun, but then again, to be smart don't you need to be perfect? You need to care, you need to be compassionate and modest and aware of your own abilities. I have none of these qualities. It had been said to me that because I see thing so different from other people, I cannot relate to them at all. Where I have areas of expertise, the information is cluttered, barely organised, yet I manage to somehow come up with a good result, but while all my brain cells are fixing these problems in that areas, other area of my brain are neglected.

I am sorry that I cannot be perfect. Don't tell me I have 'potential'. What a disgusting word. Full of 'If's and 'Maybe's. All these perfect people exist in the world and yet I am here polluting it. How unfortunate. I hate the social hierarchy. I wish not to be part of it at all and instead drift in and out of the pyramid of evil. But then maybe I don't exist at all. I need my own pyramid of awesome. Where it is just me.

I'm just proving how self centred I am now.

What am I good at? Being nothing? Being stupid? Being 'disruptive'?
I know at times it may seem that I don't give a damn, but trust me, I care. It is because of ht absence of this 'emotion' showing that everything falls over in the end.
I just don't have that 'balance' you know? I convince myself that nothing matters in order to live with my failed expectations, yet I care so much for everything I do. It's almost like I pretend I don't care so much that I do care.

Oh dear. I am becoming incoherent now.
Better stop the bull shitting now Alethea.



MORE FAIL SEWING!!! This one was so fail it was pro. Hear that? I'm awesome at failing! Look at how positive I have become!
Today's crytically cliche question is...








Bored bored bored.
I actually like being bored.
It is better than being stressed.
Technically, I should be stressed. There are a million and one things that I need to do, that obviously haven't been done. But I am sitting here patiently typing out a blog post.
Lovely.

I'll blame it on the day light saving. Imagine! Just as I start waking up at 5.30am and then stupid daylight saving has to kick in and ruin it all for me. I'll probably stay up all night from hyperness anyway. I think I consumed an entire packet of marshmallows. THey are sooooo good! And then I complain about being fat. =.=

Anyway, middle names are the topic of discussion today. That stupid 30 day challenge thing says so...1.What is your middle name? How do you feel about it?
Well for starters, I don't have a middle name. There was once a day where everyone wanted to call everyone else by their middle name, and I said I didn't have one so they made one up for me. I got called Sarah for 4 hours, and I hated every minute. (Sorry to people named Sarah, it wasn't the name it was the act of stupidity that got me annoyed.) Obviously, if I don't have a middle name, I can't talk about how I feel about it, but I can talk about the fact that I don't have one. I think it's great! It's one less thing to fill in on forms and all, I mean I have a Chinese name but no one uses that anyway.
What is the actual point of middle names? I know some people have a million bajillion middle names, like those italian guys on TV who try and flatter you buy rambling off their long and foreign name in the manner of a tongue twister. (I'll see if I can find a video, and no offence to people from Italy) Kiefer Sutherland's full name is Kiefer William Frederick Dempsey George Rufus Sutherland, and yet he is still just known as Kiefer Sutherland and not Kiefer William Frederick Dempsey George Rufus Sutherland. I don't think there is a limit to how many middle names you can have, but also I think it is perfectly useless. They would have to print more lines on your birth certificate. They would have to print more lines on your passport. It would become a serious disadvantage!

You know what?
Middle names are a completely useless matter.
I am wasting my finger muscle power by typing this useless post.
But then again,
Don't I always?






Today has been a spastic day of randomness.

I think the word 'spastic' is one of those everything words. Like 'random'. Because most things can be described as random. Most things. Most things associated with me anyway. Same with the word 'awesome'. You can describe just about anything with the word 'spastic'. It's awesome. (See what I did there?)

Anyways, today I had the much dreaded talent quest, and I think it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. I freaking loved the audience! It was great, I was deafened by sounds other than my own terrible voice/yodelling. Who would have known yodelling could take me so far? And to think it sprung from boredom. I can't actually think of any good uses for it, apart from annoying the hell out of people and communicating on the Swiss alps (or causing an avalanche). Oh well. And don't ask me if I won because I don't know. And to tell you the truth, I don't really care either. It wasn't for winning, it was for fun.

I got recognised by some random on the bus, she was eyeing me rather suspiciously, and then she turned around and exclaimed "You're the yodelling girl!"
I felt a mixture of shock, horror, and embarrassment, but my face more of less looked like this:
=.=
I don't blush (I think).

Many people came up to me with the whole "You're so good!" ploy, and of course my automatic response of "No I'm not!" followed. I say that I'm not good at everything, regardless of whether I'm actually good at something or not. So that is a bad way of judging my ability. I'm not going to tell you how to cajole me to do stuff for you, because I don;t want to be manipulated! And surely you'll be smart enough to figure it out for yourselves.

Also, the health teacher gave me a freaking detention! For no apparent reason! It pretty much ruined my day, since I managed to getr through the past 6 periods unscathed.
Gah.
So now I have to weedle out of it somehow.

I realise the problem with me is that I have a very short attention span. I have squillions of good ideas, just that the majority of them don't make it out onto paper, or at least very little of these great ideas get there. In the business course I just did, the guy did a bt of geometrical psychology on us. He got us to draw 4 shapes, a circle, a triangle, a squiggle and a square, and then label them in order 1-4, 1 being strongest attraction and 4 being most dislike shape. I chose squiggle, triangle, circle, square. The squiggle was so me (creative people who have short attention spans). The square was not (extremely organised perfectionists). Triangles were leaders and circles were carers of the world. I like the concept of geometrical psychology. It's intriguing. Something else random I noticed though, when asked to draw triangles, most people drew equalateral triangles? Why? I drew a right angle triangle with an approximate 3:4:5 ratio to sides, with the hypotenuse facing right. And I actually drew my circle around it, which was weird. I don't like equalateral triangles, they all seem un trustworthy to me ('cos I'm weird).

Do you know my mum got sunburnt today? I've never gotten sun burn before. I don't burn. Yay. Kung fu is tomorrow!

Such spastic randomness I have written here.

last...bits...of ...time.......management......slipping...away

It would be, absolutely fantastic if I had my own personal assistant. Someone to write down all my 'appointments' (lol homework which never gets done), remind me what to do/wear/eat that day, and fetch me little pots of tea and sugar.

Right now however, the most purtrid and sickening feelings of dread are making themselves at home in my stomach. I feel like I'm gonna puke, it's horrible, and I don't know why it's there.
Or many be I do.
I hate school. And I haven't said that in a very long time.
And I am filled with confusion, have I made the right choice? But at the same time, I wouldn't want things to be as they were.
They can never be the way they were again, because I cannot be the person I was then, now.

And so this repulsive feeling of dread continues to haunt me.
I'm scared to admit,
it may just be called,
regret.

I wanna shoot somebody!!!

The above was written in a true moment of utter frustration.
I am in several minds right now (mostly angry, and angry and partially elated so this is going to be an odd post).
-First, I'm angry, at myself. Now this is quite common, but today was an exceptional circumstance and if you SAW ME NEVER SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!!! Today was possibly the worse day ever for a mental breakdown. Fuck that shit.
-Second I am angry at myself, because I should have never opened my mouth! And as a result no one freaking takes me seriously! Why? WHY?!?!?!? I swear, tomorrow, if anybody laughs while I am speaking, I will slap them (IF THEY ARE LUCKY! Or else I'll be going for your smug little nose).
-I'm doing this random business program/project, and I love the program, I think it's totally neat and the guy running it does a great job. However, we were put into groups by being numbered off, and as much as I know that this is going to happen in real life, I HATE IT.
Here is some advise to you all...
-To our 'leader', who is doing an abslutely rubbish job at 'leading', if you turn your nose up at one one more time you will be the first one with a bloody nose. Listen to me you bitch! If you wanna be a bitch, just do it on the outside and stop pretending you're a sweet little girl, put it on the outside and get over yourself woman.
-To the appointed CEO, fuck you. Really, just fuck off man. Since you're such a simple minded shitface, I suggest you google Kit Kat flavoured icecream, and see for yourself that your fucked up realm of unicorns and fairydust doesn't exist. GO ahead, market something completely unoriginal, claim my ideas as your own, I don't care. Oh, and Google 'Ben and Jerry's'. I'm sure you'll find something EXACTLY LIKE YOU'RE TRYING TO MARKET YOU ASSHOLE!
-To the girl who wanted to make togs for dogs, I salute your retardedness, you really make me question whether I should be questioning my own sanity.
-To Michelle, I thank you for helping me retain that little bit of sanity that is left.
-And the remaining two girls left, Fuck you. fuck you all. Go and die in a fire or something.
I know you're all bitchy 'cos you're bitches, but SERIOUSLY?!
I shouldn't be posting this here, but since you won't listen to me, I'll get everybody else on the internet to.
Don't worry, I won't speak.
And then you won't need to listen.

I don't know whether I should pull out, and go back to normal classes and get yelled at in every other subject, or sit myself in this situation which I am utterly uncomfotable with and deal with it. I'm so weak. Why can't I just toughen up and deal with it? Why?

This entire experience is just going to remind me how much I despise working with other people.
You know why I move around so much? It's to get away from these people who already know too much. And I wanted to come to EGGS, and I wanted to come to Auckland to do gym, finish it, to get away from the people who knew. Did I make the wrong choice?
Goddamnit I did.
Is it true that to move forward, you must first step back? Or am I just regressing for no apparent reason?

I don't want to go back. I don't want to ever look back.
Don't make me, because then you'll be the one person who gets assaulted every year.

Oh, and I didn't get to go to gym again.

On the bright side...okay there is no bright side.
I get to go to Kung Fu !
I CAN KILL PEOPLE!!!

This is going to be fun.

I long ago made the desicion, that children are not and never will be, something I wish to take responsibility for. It's ironic, seeing as I have so many siblings, but I've told my parents they'll have to expect their first grandchildren from my sister haha.
I also made the desicion, that relationships were either far down the bottom, or not on my priority list at all, and some people just don't understand this way of thinking. A girl in my English class challenged my likabililty by the fact I did not have a boyfriend, and I was tempted to smash her head in because after giving her a long spiel about why I didn't see the point, and that not all people but 'boyfriends' on their priotrity list in life, and she went back to her sad argument of 'Well, I have a boyfriend' after all my effort. She'd make a good politician.

Anyways, once word gets out that you don't want a boyfriend, everyone starts to think you're gay, because their sad simple minds cannot comprehend that anybody would rather be alone. I love being alone (and I'm not gay for God's sake). It doesn't scare me to be alone, unless of course it was in a room full of corpses or something, that I wouldn't not count as being alone (dead people are still people). I'd still much rather be alone than in a place bustling with loads of (alive) people. Well, in a normal situation anyway. Not in the end of the world. I have to be careful what I wish for.

I've been reading way too much (science fiction, very, very bad for my fragile state of mind). Nearly all the novels I've read involve guns. Guns fascinate me. They kill so easily, yet there is barely any skill needed to use one. Put them together, check the safety, load it and shoot away. One shot to the head, and one shot to the heart. That's all it takes to call Death. I should totally take up martial arts though...Asians are supposed to be more martial art type violent. I'd live up to the expectations of my own skin. Apparently guns are too Western, but what the hell, that is retarded. I wouldn't be able to pull the trigger though. Not like that crazy guy who shot down all the teenagers on that random island...gives me the shivers.

Why the heck am I talking about this?!

Contrary to my post about people seeing into my mind, I now think it may now be a bad or useless idea. First of all, no one is going to be able to decifer what the heck is going on in there. And second, if you can't see directly out of my eyes, then you'll still know nothing.

Fail.

Anyway, I think I'm going to be a dwarf for the rest of my life. It's all my parents fault, none of them are above 170cm. But then again, some of my siblings are pretty tall, I mean, they're all taller than I was when I was their age (with the exception of Helaina, but she has stick legs and probably something wrong wth her metabolism). It's so depressing. I'm destined to be forever to be in the lower quartile of people in heights. Argh.

I suppose there may be benefits to being short. When I was 12 I got passed off as a 9 year old so I could go on the luge in Queenstown for a discounted price. Go me. I wonder how innocent I really looked...that was only 2 years ago! I don't think I was any more/less controlled or rebellious than I was 2 years ago. Maybe it was just hidden better. Who knows?
One of my aunties is 30...she got passed off as a 15 year old. But she's really dwarfish. (Even I'm taller than her!)

Today, I want to complain about parties. You know, social functions actually scare the hell out of me. You have to dress up, buy stuff, make yourself a reputation...yea I hate it. I'd rather be alone. Unless I'm on a high of course, I'm either on a high, or maybe sick and depressed. Actually I'm sick all the time, mentally, but back to the topic...parties are so useless! In primary school I stopped getting invites because I always declined. This was because my ultra controlling parents didn't allow me to go since it was a 'waste of time' and apparently I had 'better things to do' (cough gym cough) so I never went. (Well, I went to maybe one or two, but those were exceptions.) I kinda convinced myself that hated them anyway so I wouldn't feel bad when all my other mates went and I didn't. Same thing with camp. At first I wanted to go. And I kicked up a fuss. But now, I so freaked out about spending 3 days away with people I don't even know. I don't mind the 'going away' part, but the people part is horrible. I'd rather be alone. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die.

This is why I wish to embark on a life of solitary confinement. Deep in the wilderness. (Don't ask me to get animals and be a crazy cat lady or something along the lines, I don't particularly like animals. Putting that out there.)

People say I'm weird, they say I'm dysfunctional, they say I'm stuffed up inside, away from people will be awesome.
I need to find some deep wlderness to go hide in.

Freaking out, I forgot that I auditioned for the talent quest...I forgot that I got in...and now I am screwed. We're supposed to be ready next week!!! I have no act, I have no music, I have no excuse. And apparently I'm needed to diversify the talents a little. So I can't quit. I'm supposed to be yodelling, and flipping around a bit, which is going to fail since I'm not allowed. Youtube searching for a ready made track is to no avail. I am screwed.

It's like all this time off gym...WHAT THE HELL WAS I DOING?! Oh yea, nothing. Okay, so I read about a bajillion books, and I blogged, and...er....watched Ray Willam Johnson? Other than that, pretty much nothing. And now I feel bad 'cos I can't even blame it one gym, because I wasn't there! It's the whole 'How can you waste time if you haven't got any?' situation.

I need a backing track or some sort of cover...so if any one finds one, GIVE IT TO ME! please. Or else I'll spontaneously combust to get myself out of talent quest.

Thank you for your cooperation.

I cannot study. My attention span just does not cater to sitting over a pile of notes and memorising them. If I were that kind of person, I'd be likable, smart, less panicky, smart...

Fortunately I am not that kind of person. I think the difference between people who study and me is that while they are busy putting USEFUL information into their brains and intelligently preparing for an exam/test/whatever, I am sitting either with a book, or device with internet access, putting IRRELEVANT and USELESS information into my brain. I don't have Facebook, so that isn't a problem, but this blog might be...
But the fact that I don't study scares me sometimes. It scares other people when I do better than them and I didn't study like they did, until 2am in the morning. It scares me that it keeps happening, because it isn't a fluke, it just happens. It scares me because I don't know why.
Yea, practicaclly everything scares me.

My mother thinks I have an incredible amount of luck. And that's all. She herself freaks out when she sees me over a pile of textbooks, or actually DOING HOMEWORK which never happens! Sorry teachers. I do try and pay attention in class. It is fun to catch the teacher out, especially when they think you aren't listening. I hope I potray that image. Sometimes useless information actually does come in handy.
Information just gets stuck in my head you know? Some things never leave. But some things float right out the other side and never make it to the memory bank.
I think I may have a subtle way of study. But it's all in my head.

I have a statistics test tomorrow, and when I think statistics, something in my mind clicks. And everything changes colour, and then..well this is hard to explain. Who gets flashbacks? Who hears voices? Who sees christmas holidays as a cardboard box to their left?! Well I do. And to me, statistics is orangey green. It's marbled and garbled. I don't even know how that works. But I can tell you algebra is emerald green, and basic facts have always been tan and mahogany. But then I like to compact everything into 3 broad statements, or words if you wish. It depends.

Anyway, statistics has the following phrases attached to it:
1.Shape the monster(<< That's the phrase. Yep that's it. The annotation is on this side >>)- Bell curve, hill, whatever you want to call it. We're talking of the shape of the data...but I am weird. So I think of it as stroking a sea monster. I'm serious. The sea monster is always green, the same green as statistics obviously. And if it is smooth, I say it is symmetrical, or evenly distributed, or less varied. If it's got a longer tail, it's skewed. If it's scales are uneven I say it's unreliable data or someting. I think putting all the information into a different context helps me remember it. This phrase reminds me to talk about the data. In maths, we just get told to look at the data and interpret it. I feel the data with my hands. In my head of course, that sounds really bad.
2.How about in real life?- This reminds me to make a conclusion based on the current population, to make a conclusion in the first place. Yea I just like the reference to real life.
3.Facts and figures-I gotta include evidence and use rules and random stuff like that. Use real data from the question and use the 3/4-1/2 rule. I think I get it now. And this last phrase also reminds me to use terms to do with the topic.

There you go! I know I've always seen things different from other people. But I actually remember almost everything like that. 3 statements. But I don't study by looking at my notes. I jst repeat the 3 phrases a couple of times. And it seems to work. With most things anyway. Except social studies, I can't do social studies. My brain just doesn't do history and mapping and all that.Maybe it's my fear of the past. And I can't write explaining paragraphs to do with genocide or Hitler or human rights. Nor can I write essays. My writing is atrocious, especially my handwriting haha.

Funny that I'm writing a novel though. And that I'm writing this blog. And that I'm not studying.
I'm such a fail.

Sometimes I wish that people could just tap into my mind and see all the random shit going on in there that makes me insane. Then I wouldn't have to go to such great depths to get people to understand me. But then I really shouldn't bother because no one ever will. If it was that easy, there would be no need for any body to express themselves. We'd become a dead race, there wouldn't be arts anymore, no music, no writing, no nothing.
Just the spur of pictures and sounds and voices that go on in people's heads.
Well, in my head anyway.

And should you ever get to see what went on in my head, you'd probably die.
And then I wouldn't be able to hide anything anymore.
I think even if people could see what was going on in my head, they'd probably just spontaneously combust from a sensory overload. Too much inforamtion going in at once which would cause them to explode. Or implode. Either or, still produces an interesting result.

I really am bored you know.

Today was the day I was supposed to originally be allowed to do something!
Exercise!
Kill Myself!
Gym!
But of course, I'm not allowed.
Well, screw that. I ran. And it. Was. Awesome.
Pain is nothing.
But there's more to that.
Why do people care now? When nothing matters? The past is the past and you can't remedy that, and nothing can be done. It's over. And my foot is screwed up like, permanently but how will this help?

I think it's the darkness that really keeps me going. But I'm not motivated to go forwards because I hate the unknown, but I too am scared as hell to run away from the past, and the conflicting forces keep me at a stand still. It's like, what happens when an invincible force meets an non-movable object? Which will give? Well, right now it's fear of the unknown, pushing me bac towards the haunting thoughts. The thoughts that actually exist, because they've already happened, not the future, that could go so many bad ways. Dwelling on the past is most unproductive. But I'm a good time waster anyway so who gives a shit?

I'm not sure, what I am supposed to be feeling right now. I got adrenaline going today. In a rebellious manner. And it would probably not be a smart idea to put it here. But I like it. I don't care about reputations, or egos, or expectations, because I'm avoiding all those. If people expect nothing of me, I can give them that! I can even exceed their expectations the other way! Give them negatives!

People expect, that when you know all the facts and the figures and the statistics and all, it shows you how bad doing something is. It shows you making bad desicions can end up with you having your life on the line. I don't think they realise we don't exactly care. I don't. I couldn't care less. Not right now.

3 red lines.
they're glaring at me

How could I not have had a topic to talk about before? there is so much to talk about now, partially because I just read 2 books and wrote down a whole lot of random thoughts, and sent it to my old gym coach, and did a GINORMOUS load of dishes, allowing my to think up more random thoughts...and you get the idea.

First of all, I have this sneaky suspicion my mother is trying to send me a message by borrowing books about people who have done stuff like me. It's like she's embarked on a journey of subtle parentism. I don't even know if that is possible. ANyway, of the two books I read, one is about the end of the world, which believe it or not, has been one of my long all time obsessions. Sometimes, I can kid myself into believing that it will happen, and sometimes I'm completely adamant it won;t happen. But I like thinking up random scenarios of me rescuing people. Which will never happen. Heros have too much pressure of them. Anyway, this particular book was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO unsatisfying! It was such a good book, and then it stopped all of a sudden? But t's a new seroes so I'll have to find the next book. The second book is fabulously me. But I haven't quite finished (3 more chapters?) so I'll report tomorrow.

I noticed that my pinky finger on my right hand is always cold. Especially after I do dishes with cold water, it never warms again with the rest of the hand. Is it a sign of bad circulation or something? What does it mean?

I'm so bored without gym. Apart from reading and dishes and dinner, I did nothing productive. I just moped around. I feel so lazy =.=
Oh what to do, what to do...

For once, I'm unsure of how to start. Of course that's a contradiction because I've started already (this post) but nothing really interesting has happened today. Or maybe I'm just over it. There was no one to tell in the spur of the moment, so the topics have iced over.

I can't remember the last time I was bored like this. Bored is an understatement because I use the word too freely. Even online games put me off now 'cos I played too many of them. C'mon I'm so desperate I'm researching the Marriage of Figaro! Okay, that's because it's homework, but that's terrible in itself, since when do I actually do homework? In advance?!

What is the world coming to?!

MY GYM CURFEW HAS BEEN EXTENDED!?!?!?! WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?!?!?

I have a new obsession with cryptic crosswords. It's not much of an obsession really, but I happened to remember reading about them in a book and I had to try some out for myself, so now I'm addicted. Of course, this doesn't mean I'm any good at them, I'm actually absolutely rubbish, but I like the fact each clue has it's own hidden meaning.

I'm also addicted to the games on Dictionary.com/Word Dynamo...because I have nothing better to do now. My gym curfew has been extended! (as I mentioned before) I'M GOING TO DIE! Last time, when I had 12 weeks off, I put on 5kgs which have not left my body since. 5kgs of crap. I'm going to die again.
Anyway, back to Word Dynamo, there are these cool word games where you have to match the definition to the meaning. Right now my favourite words are juxtapose, obsequious and Archipelago, meaning 'to place side by side for comparison or to observe contrast', 'Obsessively obedient' and 'a group or cluster of islands' respectively. Feel free to make them your favourite words also.

As much as I adore queer and unheard of pieces of the english language and cryptic crosswords, I must say I'm not very good at normal crosswords themselves. I always resort to those online crossword answering softwares. Or a dictionary. But still.
I'm not very good at wordfinds, or sudukos either. Sukukos are my worse nightmare, I can't do them for my life. Everytime I put in one number, I end up contradicting another box/line. I'm a suduko failer. And it's frustrating! Sudukos are definately not my thing.

I'm so bored.

It's kind of sad how the only emails I get are from automated email services, like news letters from websites I subscribed to. Gone are the days where I'd sign in to find eons of forwards and homework reminders I guess. I sent out half a dozen emails to various people but I only got back...nothing. How unfortunate. No one even checks their emails anymore, it's only Facebook which I don't have. Gah.

Today, I made my own ipod cover with smiggle tape which I purchased for 50cents! Why pay $20 for a nice one tou can buy at the store without any effort when you can make one yourself? I was actually going to do a sticker collage but I think this looks much better. I'm such a frugal person. I Te cover actually looks pretty cool. And it still works. And it peels off (if I want to change it). So it is awesome. Here's a picture.(You can see my abused nails in the picture argh) My webcam sucks, so excuse the pixels hahaha. Mum also dragged me out of the house to go shoe shopping, which I was not looking forward too. I did end up with a nice pair of black reboks, so I ain't complainig about the shoes themselves, but I absolutely despise shoe shops, they have so many mirrors, it is horrible.

In science on Friday, we had to LOOK INTO MIRRORS IN CLASS and I almost died. TO make matters worse, I was sitting right where the teacher was standing so I had to peer into the shimmering horridness first. In front of everybody. I hate my reflection. It's disgusting.

I'm gonna wag P.E. tomorrow and save myself the embarassment of missing the ball in tennis. All I have to do is show my teacher the depressing letter from the sports doctor, and I get to read for a whole hour! Yay! Hopefully. I have pretty much no hand eye coordination. Ah well, can't have everything.That saying is so true. You can't have everything, but you can have nothing, that occurs at death. I'll be there soon.

Boredness. I can't believe I don't even have gym tomorrow. And the only homework I have is Romeo and Juliet essay, which I'm sure I can cause myself stress about later when I scramble to have it done the night before. It's weird, because even though I have nothing on, I always feel panicky, or anxious that something bad is going to happen. In fact, it gets worse when I don't do anything.

Like now of course.

"Because you had a bad day, you're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around,"

Why the heck would you sing a sad song? I mean, how does that help?! Sad songs only help me dwell in my depressiveness, and crazy upbeat songs make me hyper.
I can listen to anything, I think I like most music, but sometimes I don't like the artist. I can respect the music, but not always the person who wrote it. Eugh.

I think I have a habit of copying the the way the singer who sings it too. I don't have my own style, I only imitate. It sucks. I should resign to eternal shutupification. But that would be impossible because I'm the most loquacious person some would claim they've ever met.

I am most honoured.

I'm still on a gym curfew.

I have a terrible way of organising my ideas, probably because they were never organised in the first place, so it makes it incredibly difficult for people to understand me when I open my mouth. When I took that personality test I posted before, there was this question "Do people have a hard time following your train of thought when you're talking?" (or something along those lines), I decided to ask the people sitting near by myself. They all answered quite promptly "YES!" (I know I mentioned this before but it fits into context here okay?)
I'm sorry!!! I can't put it together so you understand, only so I understand.
Sure, I have an endless bank of useless information as a brain, but the key to that sentence is the word useless. Unless I become a human random fact generator, I'm still probably never going to get anywhere in life.

Do you know I've read the dictionary?
(Bear in mind, reading the dictionary is different from memorising the dictionary, that I have not achieved yet, anyway, I was depressed when I wasn't allowed to go to camp, so while my peers were quad biking across northern Canterbury, I was reading the Oxford Edited New Zealand Pocket Dictionary.)
I can't not read, you know what I mean? When you see words (in English, or whatever languages you converse in/understand), it's impossible to go past them without reading them. I've always been fascinated with my lack of ability to convert the majority of Mandarin characters/random squiggles when I go to Malaysia. I'll just sit in the car and stare. I think it's rather to my advantage because I don't get car sick (not that I normally do), but doesn't reading in the car make you sick? Well if you can't read you can't get sick! Magic!

In year 7, I spent my summer holidays in the Borders (book shop) across the road and read 1/2 an hour every day, of Twilight. I had way too much spare time back then.

I have too much spare time now.

You don't want me.
I don't want you.
But I need you, no matter how much I diverge and digress and run away.
I hate you.
Don't leave me.

The Voices can't come to a conclusion.
I can't come to a conclusion.
But since when have I ever come to a conclusion?

I can't help it. I'm like this. I'm loud. I'm inappropriate.
Don't worry about giving me another chance, I wouldn't blame you if you've run out. Most people around me have. This is a bad time to jump into the black water. No one is here to pull me away from the cliff's edge. But the darkness is still.

And someone is calling.
Caling me away.
Pushing me away.

Drown me.

Well what don't you know?
In health we had to fill in a careers booklet with daft questions like "Things I like are..." so I'll give you a taste on how I filled it in.
THINGS I LIKE ARE
-Reading about psychological disorders
-Weird adjectives with more than 3 syllables
-Travelling
-Researching random facts
-Chocolate
-Watching medical dramas
-Google
-Philosiphical thinking and paradoxes
-Freebies
THINGS THAT I DISLIKE ARE
-Hospitals
-Politics
-Rugby
-Germs
-Global warming
-The cold
-Messy Handwriting
-Cliches and stuck up people
-Cleaning
MY FRIENDS WOULD SAY I AM (I scrawled next to it 'I don't have friends' which is kinda contradictory)
-Weird
-Crazy
-Obsessive
-Retarded
-Dumb
-Unpredictable
-Undescribable
-Hyperactive/depressed
I AM GOOD AT
-Nothing (especially doing nothing)
-Talking, non stop jibber jabber
-Criticising people
-Talking back
-Mocking people
-Biting my nails
My health teacher is going to have fun marking my careers booklet.
There was akso another section with "Qualities I have/want to develop"
I strggled with the "Qualities I have" section, but for the "Qualities I need to develop." section I put...
-Time Management
-Orgnisation Skills
-Ambidexterity
-Social Skills
-Saying the right thing at the right time

I hate careers.
I'll just spend my life as a professional retard.

I'm on a gym curfew.
You know, the space bar on the keyboard kinda reminds me of pistachios.
I'm so weird.

There are things that people don't know about me. And so they just assume. I guess assuming is good because than you can look over stuff you don't know exists. Or you can choose not to believe it is there.

After all, you can't see in the dark can you?

I think I should stop posting philosophical crap on my blog. Although that's kinda how my mind works. I like to think about things I don't understand and then get angry at myself because I don't understand them. I'm probably one of those people who spends more time thinking about the concepts of life and death than looking at the footpath to see where they are going (ahem, sorry to the guy I tripped over this morning, I was thinking about cloud patterns).

I really am a random person. I like to stare at the ceiling, quite often. I just like looking up, and cloud patterns do intrigue me. And also, those ceilings that have random dots on them. I like trying to work out how many dots there are on each ceiling board, in methods other than counting in ones.

You know, I really love walking to school. I've always been fascinated about what the letters on those grates on the road mean. Some of them say CDB, or PGS, today I saw one that said MEG, which was cool. And also, the patterns on top of the grates? I know they have random covers for water, like when the firetrucks pull up, there's a specials grate for that when they need water, but what do the other grate lead to? Sewage?

Anyway, while I was in my own world this morning, the construction guys working on the highway blasted a stapler or something really loud as I walked past, and I jumped. He smirked at me, and somehow I prevented ,myself from pulling the finger. Good thing I didn't I would have died (scary people!), although I don't think that would have been so bad.

If I ever get murdered, I think I would find being stabbed better than being shot. But guns don't scare me as much as knives. I don;t want it to be instant. Or do I? Maybe I won't be murdered, just assaulted then.

I would really like to know where that nerve point is where you press (I think it is some where on the neck) and then the person passes out, like on movies? Is it even possible? I saw some guys trying to figure it out once before, but then the teacher told them off for being rough (come on, they were poking other people's necks! Stupid teacher).

Last year, I bought this book on death. It cost $1. It is awesome, except I need to find it and read it again. I'm obsessed with the way people act and behave because I don't understand it. I don;t understand why I act in certain ways, so I have to observe other people to find out why.

I think I see stuff in extremely different ways from other people. So technically, observing other people is utterly unproductive in my situation. I am bored. Social Studies is a boring.
And I am not smart.
Randomness.

Wire, twist it, sharpen it, scrape it down into flesh.
I need a knife really.










Look, you can't just say that to me, and expect a unicorn to sprinkle fairy dust over us and get my mouth moving. I can't define anything like that. It's not usual a single situation that snaps the tension. It takes anger, it takes fear and confusion which I am ever so prone towards, rejection, fear, fear, fear.

I hate that. I hate shitty fucked up arseholes who don't know how to keep their mouths shut.
I hate having to dread going to class, but I'm not scared anymore.
Fuck this shit.

I'm angry. Festering, mouldy hate that saturates the room when your sour, rotting face appears in the room. It's time, that time of the year, when someone gest hurt. How many more chances do I have left? How come it hasn't happened yet? When bruises and blood and broken bones have erupted from my red clammy hands 10 years straight.
I'm angry. I took of my heavy shoe and slammed it into the door leaving a dirty scuff mark, that oozed down the wall like dark silt. If they weren't so bloody tall I'd have slapped them both by now, but I guess it helps that my head height isn't the same as theirs, so I wouldn;t have to look at that shit face one minute longer. Keep your mouth shut bitch.

I can't take out my anger at gym, because I'm sick, because I'm not allowed to do anything. I don't have a punching bag, that'd probably be a good investment. There's only one place I can take my anger out.

And then it goes. And as much as I swell with discontent I sink, and it becomes instead, what was it for? Why did I feel like I wanted to kill someone? She didn't even mean it, I mean, bitch is just her natural personality. And the power I gained from that hate can be turned on myself. An eye for an eye, but I have control over myself more so than I can kill her. (Actually it's more like them. Two tall twin terrible tackless BITCHES.) More that I can crush her bones and scrape her voice into a vault of explosives shaped like bubblegum, and carve an ice sculpture of her face and smash it against a wall or throwing her over a cliff, or beating her face in and pointing a laser in her eye and listening to her scream as her corneas burn.

Where do these thoughts come from? I have no idea. But they fly about, wailing like banshees, in my head when I'm angry. People say they are blinded by rage, but in fact I am deafened and strengthened from within.

I'm angry. But I'm also sad. Deeply saddened by everyting I've read and seen and watched and heard and been and lived and crushed.

But above all, I'm happy. My God, happy is an utterly useless word. I'm not 'happy'. Not quite there. But I can almost believe my cover-up. Those days when I speak nothing, that's when I compose myself. You can tell how I feel by listening to my laugh. Manic, depressive, different. Anger ridden, desperate, or am I hiding something? My laugh. Now how can I have a depressive laugh you say? It's not the laugh itself, it's the tone of the laugh. If I'm hollow, it sounds rusty, tastes like salt and burns my throat. If you know, how to make me laugh it should sound like playground bark, it should cup circular around your palms and embrace it's joy down and around. But that selsom happens anymore. Of course, there's the mocking laugh, dirty jokes, anger and bitching.

I'm not angry now.
In fact, I now feel rather jovial.

Shit, shit, shit, what is happening to me? Why can't I keep to one emotion at a time?!
A question in that personality test, was, "do people have trouble following your train of thought?" and when I asked the people near me, they all, without hesitation answered yes, rather vibrantly so. Well I can't help it can I?

I think I have synesthesia. That's when smell and taste and colours and sound get mixed together because one is another and another is one. I'll elaborate later.
Where am I going? I thought I was supposed to angry before?!

I'm all over the place aren't I?

Isn't this entertaining?!

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid Personality Disorder:	Very High
Schizoid Personality Disorder:	Moderate
Schizotypal Personality Disorder:	High
Antisocial Personality Disorder:	High
Borderline Personality Disorder:	Very High
Histrionic Personality Disorder:	Low
Narcissistic Personality Disorder:	High
Avoidant Personality Disorder:	Very High
Dependent Personality Disorder:	Moderate
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder:	High
-- Take the Personality Disorder Test -- -- Personality Disorder Info --

I'm supposed to be a number oriented person, but as much as I enjoy getting an achievable straight answer from mathematics or science, it always strikes me how difficult I find it to concentrate in these subjects. Sometimes, I'm just tired, that's understandable, but other times, I'm not sure whether it's boredom that gets the blame or just a lack of self motivation. In Year 6, I had a fantastic maths teacher who was always willing to push her able students to think outside the box, she related things to real life, she gave maths a purpose. Some of the kids in our class thought she was a bitch (as I did too at first) but she really knew what she was doing. I guess the her sense of authority mixed and mingled with her sly (and sarcastic) ways of fun was an aquired taste, but it worked and almost every able minded child walked ot of her class smiling.
Boredom, seems to be the culprit at the moment for my lack of focus, but at the same time, I see no reason to try, or at least I'm too lazy to bother thinking outside the box once again. The past attitude of some of my old classmates like 'how are we ever going to use this in real life?' has rubbed off onto myself. I wish I was still with them, living those days. Now, I spend class time more daydreaming or reading with the book under my desk then doing actual work. I've become a wreck. And where do wrecks end up? In the junkyard. And there in the dumps the numbers will dance no longer, but I'll be trapped by my own misery.
Physics, rules and numbers. That's the backing for the way I think, except my weird way of thinking over-rides that. Arts bring me are questions, and that's when I get fed up with myself, or they bring calm because that's how I tell people. I use words, or music, or both. Even so, if I understand the physics of a skill, I'll do it, I can't just have the feeling, I have to know how it works. If I understand the concepts of a test, I'll feel no fear. This is the way I keep myself in line. But I'm not going to become an engineer or anything like that, my logic is barely logical at all when it enters reality. It just falls apart. And so how does that work? How can I rely on numbers when I'm so inaccurate? It's like trying to hold hands with something that doesn't even have hands. I can't catch the concepts anymore. What's happening to me? Where is the war?

SO CONFUSING!
omg omg omg
brain cells dying...

I just consumed an entire packet of tomato sauce. Not like squirting a whole 300mL bottle of Watties into my mouth (I'm not that crazy...well, not just yet), but one of those little sachets you get from McDonalds or KFC. Usually they taste quite nice (with fries, never before have I just eaten the sauce straight out of the packet), but as I was eating the sauce out of a little rip in the packet, it tasted quite spicy, and more tangy than most tomato sauce I've tasted. This could have been because it was by itself, and the saltiness of Mcdonalds shoestring fries was not present to mask the taste, BUT when the tomato sauce was nearing it's end, I yanked it out of my mouth so that the side of the packet wth the logo was facing downwards, and on the other side of the packet, there was a MADE IN CHINA emblem...ahem but since when did China make tomato sauce? (I don't even want to think about what could have been in the sauce I ate before.) They make the most clothes, knick knacks, people etc. but I think they should steer away from tomato sauce.

OKay, so why was even eating tomato sauce out of the packet? Well...it was 1.50pm in a searing hot car some where in the middle of Mt Wellington (a suburb in Auckland). I'd gotten out of school (yay!) and lunch was a sushi and some of that new frozen L&P, boredom was killing me and I felt like being dumb.
Can you even 'feel' like being dumb? Is that even possible? Sometimes I feel like being crazy, but I think feeling like being dumb is a little different.
What else do I ave to say now?

...well at the time this is being typed, it is 2.20pm. School today was boring, as usual. I felt sick in science because of the smell of baby powder. Ew. It was sprinkled everywhere because they were using it to demonstrate 'how to see a laser beam without shining it directly into your eye and burning your cornea'. It was getting hard to breathe, and I had to go out to the corridor for some fresh air. Baby powder smells foul. Well, to me it does, isn't that strange? I must be taking on some of my mother's strange senses, she can't stand any perfume, or deodarant, or strong artificial smells of any kind. Weird.

Second period, I had interior, another total waste of time. Sometimes I wonder why I go to school at all if I don't learn anything. I had to get my leave pass at morning tea so I could get out of there, and I got told off by the bright red afro owner lady at the attendence desk for not taking my note to her before school. Well, I brought it to her in the end so I don't really see how it made a difference.
Third and final period for the day (finally!) and I had music, which was fun because I mostly just workedoon my composition, and compositions are some of my most favourite past times. I'm getting muh better at using the computers, and putting down what I made up in my head into some notation, it's kinda like how I'm getting used to just typing all my random crap into this blog even if it doesn't quite make sense.

I still don't tell people things though. Well, not directly.
Well I'll have to remember mext time. Like I have to remember to check where my tomato sauce is made. I shall not eat food made in China, justbecause I feel like it. I always check marshmallows, marshmallows are usually made in China...especially those filled ones that come in the little packet, I used to like eating those until my Mother forbade me (is that even a word?) from munching on them.
Good times...well I don't even know what I'm rambling about here, so I better stop. I'm sorry for being so random.

(But you got an insight of my boring school life, for the first time! It's totally uninteresting, and you know it.)


One Year.
Fireworks erupt,
The spotlights are aimed,
and we laugh.
Though one year ago, we would have jumped
At all loud noises.
Any sign that the ground would begin to heave,
Any sign that Mother Nature was going to leave
us alone.
No. No.


It was the day we learnt how to shelter,
under that in which we had eaten over,
or spent endless hours on gruelling homework.
It would stand again
to keep us preoccupied,
to keep us sane,
to keep us alive.
4 short legs, suddenly brought us satisfaction.
One year ago, we learnt to be resourceful.
Taking the lemons as they were,
bruised,
but very much usable.


One year ago we learnt to be human in the humblest of ways, because suddenly,
everything was taken away, and like they taught us long ago in kindergarten,
Sharing is caring.
When left with nothing, people found the strength to give more,
Even though we almost assumed it was impossible to care for
Others
when you could barely care for yourself and your own spouse,
and the earth figeted underneath your very own house.
We found that strength.


One year passed today,
from when we were scattered and left to fumble blind.
And on a system of our country, amongst the greeny blue, a line,
was drawn
to signify surrender and to help us prepare for our next battles.
Silently fighting.
Sidelines and trenches we dug out, dark clay simmering into our lawns as a sign,
Invincible forces trying to prove their power, but we held on to whatever we had near.


On this day one year ago,
flowed
the tears without warning.
Marked upon us was the change,
marked on those with or without age.
Tortured souls and optimists fought the battle
hand in hand, side by side.
Without further hassle, we rubbed away the dust
which had clogged our vision.


And through our new looking glasses,
We saw, the Earth, alive as it was, ignored.
A wake up call, the rumble as it could muster,
reminding us the land we live on could not be,
concrete.
And a country became bound by a beautiful
tragedy, and our short history became crippled
yet the ground refused to surrender without sacrifice,
Wrung about, it reared it's neck one final time,
and the smell of death took place in our city.


Satisfaction is not something we take,
for granted,
Not anymore.
Because we learnt how nothing is safe,
nothing is lasting
nothing is infinite,
except the force that overcomes all
And we are nothing alone
but together we are as infinite
because
that was the work

Of One Year.

Poems are cool.
And this poem was a complete fluke. But I'm quite happy about it.



People say it's hard to imagine that a year has passed since the day when Christchurch began shaking. A year has passed since the 4th of September. A year has passed. I'd say it's hard to imagine, but remembering comes with ease. Why imagine? There is nothing to imagine, only that to remember. And I remember everything. I even wrote a detailed recount of the first week of chaos, but was because my mum suggested I recorded this 'life changing event'. I even recorded the meals we had and how many times we scrambled underneath tables. A whole year ago, I was 13! Wow!

And a whole year back, I would not have given a second thought to moving. One earthquake and people thought...whatever. We can deal with this. We can move on. Who would have imagined that I'd be lounging around on the same couch in a whole different city? One year ago, I had stable ambitions, I had a steady outlook, I was sane perhaps (mre so than I am now!), and one year ago, Nationals would have been in 3 weeks! That was probably my main concern. How carefree I was.

What's changed since then? Apart from my family, pretty much everything is nothing like before. New house, new school, new teachers, the works. It. Is. AWESOME.

Starting over is fun. Very fun. You have a chance to build a whole new image, a whole new reputation...some would say that you can't change that much, but I know I do. Waaaaaaaaaaay too much. Ask someone I knew in Christchurch 1 year back to describe me and you'd get a completely different description to one from someone that knows me only now.
Because one year ago, I was different.
And that's probably why I end up confused about myself.
It's so weird.




I'm pleased to say if my life was a movie, it'd be pretty damn interesting. The director would have a really hard time cutting out the bits that didn't really matter, because all the little bits matter. I suppose we're all like that. I wouldn't want anyone to watch my movie. It'd be restricted um...24 years. Haha, with me as the exception of course. The first scenes of my life will be the most disturbing, and lets not get into birth mishaps. I almost killed my mother, so maybe that's why she almost killed me. Haha, the joys of being the first child...not.

I see my life as a book better. It allows people to conjure up their own images and fill in the gaps by themselves. When I'm alone, like walking home from school or being towed along by some random person, I narrate in my head the situation in a strange sort of writer's tone, eg. "Skittering over the crooked cobblestones, Alethea hurried past a girl tying her shoelaces and raced towards the gate. She was running late, for possibly the millionth time that week and being flustered (and not wanting another tongue lashing) she hurried and pushed her way through the crowd. It was school time rush hour, and gossiping girls cluttered the busy streets making her shuffling through the crowd a constantly embarrassing affair. Occasionally, she would bump into a familiar face, but not much more that a smile or nod was exchanged until she reached the intersection, where her keen eyes kept a look out for a break in the cars so she could defy the little red man and run across the road..."etc. I could go on and on...but that could be one of my favourite past time activities.

I also like observing people (if you haven't noticed) and putting words into their mouths/heads. Seeing a random guys on the bus with a burly build and gurning type face I could mimic his thinking...something along the lines of "Oh crap! This bus is running late, gonna miss the afternoon game! Look at all these school kids! All 'coz of them the bus driver gotta stop at every stop, hope Julie's [made up name for a wife I gave him] got te kettle on when I get home..."
It's fun!
You people should try it someday. If you have lots of thinking time like me. I have thinking time, just never 'doing' time. I think that could be the problem. So I'm going back to my mental notes/making lists I'll never write down in my head. It reassures me I'm doing something productive that will help me in the future...not really...but it offers peace of mind!

How the hell would I portray all the random thinking in a movie?! Probably one of those scenes where the actor looks thoughtful and there's a commentary in the background going on about supposedly what's going on in the person's mind. Like in 'The Soloist" where that dude is a schizo and they have all these scenes with him looking panicky and hearing voices. Like me! But mine's behind the scenes. I think I like the narrating better. I should write a book! Am I too young for an autobiography? Oh well. This blog does a pretty good job of recording my ideas though. I think this post is getting too long. Novels don;t have limits! Okay, cutting this off...


HERE
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The view from our rental property is magnificent. Some good music and a chance to sit near a window makes a good thinking space. I find myself drifting more and more often these days, daydreaming...making up things that I wished really happened, or I wish would happen. It's lucid then. I guess the view doesn't really matter, because I loose sight of it after all. Things generally make more sense in my head than anywhere else. On a random note, I've just realised that the words I type here, go straight from my brain to internet, there's no stage where they sound in the air, isn't that magic? It's so raw, but there's the knowing that it's flexible, I can change it, I can take it back, I can take away the evidence at the click of a button. And I wish, that life had a button like that. Like those instant memory wipe things you see in movies. If I had one of those, I'd probably use it on myself, and that'd be my new obsession...I was also discussing on the bus, that most things I afflict myself with become obessions. So does that mean that I'm an obsessive person, or my way of thinking just seems obsessive? And when do things actually become obsessive? Where is the line drawn?
I'm also reading wiki...lucid dreams...time/space model...autoscopy.
Peculiar topics, very Alethea like subjects.

Today is the first day of spring! New season, and probably time for some well deserved spring cleaning, and I should stop daydreaming and then trying to convince myself it will happen. I'm a daydream believer! But only sometimes. I have to put my mind to it...

I could achieve amazing things if I put my mind to it. Isn't that sad?
But instead I'm just a waste of space
mostly.
Teehee!

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