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ramblings of a teenage girl

I had coaching today! I must say I was a little freaked before I went, not being near a rec class in ages...but after going I can say IT WAS AWESOME! Little children swarmed around me, giving me hugs and all sorts of loving endeavours. Normally, I despise contact in anyway...but afterwards I was really hyper (this may also have been because my friend Charlotte fed me too many peanut butter m 'n' ms) and I didn't care one way or another (not that I normally do anyway).

This is going to be a very gym related post.
First things first...

GOOD LUCK FOR EVERYBODY WHO IS GOING TO NATIONALS! YOU GUYS WILL BE AWESOME!!!
GO MARIA W-B!
GO LAUREN!
GO MAXINE!
GO KATE!
GO KENDALL!
GO SARAH!
GO AYLA!
WOOHOO!!!!
AND I HOPE NOT TOO MUCH STRESS IS CAUSED FOR YOU COACHES!
YOU WILL ALL BE AWESOME!

♥ ♥ ♥

But I don't really have anymore to say.
Would you look at that!
I ran out of words.
Coherent words that is.

I was reading through my old school report and supposed 'achievements' (A.K.A. a large surplus of random certificates). Last year at my old school (since I have many of these, I'll be specific...Christchurch Girls' High School), I was labelled 'gifted', amusingly so. In two sectors! (Intellect and Music-Arts.)
First things first, let's clear things up. I am NOT gifted. I am not extraordinarily intellectual in any way, it's just a bunch of balderdash...I know tons of people who actually are gifted and talented in extraordinary ways (you know who you are). Being' gifted' is very much a label. All talk, no action (which is pretty much me).

Anyway, I feel guilty for abandoning my blog, and then even more guilty for labelling 'not posting for ONE DAY' as 'abandonment'. It proves I have no life.

I CAN'T WAIT TIL CHRISTMAS!

Which is random because we don't even celebrate Christmas. And it's halloween today. Trick or Treat! (Not that I bother with such mundane endeavours.) I have a habit of saying 'Merry Christmas' no matter what time of the year it is, so when it actually is Christmas I will need to focus on saying 'Happy Hanukah!'. And because it is November tomorrow, I am justified in saying 'one month 'til Christmas!' and then hollering out of tune Christmas carols at the top of my voice, just to annoy everyone. Most retailers have put out their halloween sales gear out with the beginning of their Christmas decorations already anyway, so I have even more evidence to why I should be singing/screeching Christmas carols :P (It's a free country!)

I think I have an obsession with Christmas carols.
A HEALTHY obsession.

A not so healthy obsession, would be my constant craving for candycanes. I LOVE CANDY CANES! And marshmallow santas. nom nom nom. I see weight gain in the near future...oh well...it will be worth it :D

Someone is having a party down the road. The bass from whatever random music they're playing is pulsating down our street. It's particularly irritating, so I am trying to balance it out with some soothing Gotye.

You know, before we moved to Auckland, my parents never used to drink. I mean, the occasional beer is excusable, but I'm a little concerned at the growing collecion of wine bottles sitting on our benchtop. I hope it is not a side effect of unnecessary stress. I used to be able to tell people that my parents didn't drink; I'd get delirious looks in response, but now that they do, I can picture the reaction 'She must do- to regain her sanity living with you!'

Anyway, haven't posted in one day, my thoughts have just kinda drifted in and out of nothingness. I have seen many things and acts of bitchiness and prejudice that I wish to shun out of my mind. I was making an honest effort to be happy, but I suppose sometimes it seems fate has other ideas (linking me to depressed people's websites). Perhaps the lack of exersise is a contributing factor, no gym, no kung fu, only one measly walk to the library. I'm a wreck.

Girls Only School is bad for my self esteem. Sometimes, I see perfection like it's in the school rules. I see stick thin-ness. Money flaunters. Sometimes, it bores me. Most of the time it only apears to bore me, I'm just trying to ignore the world so I pretennd things aren't happening they way they are, so I can paint them the way I wanted the colours to be.
This is probably because exams are in a week and I cant draw freakin' parabolas for my life. Parabola drawing will never be a talent I possess. Also, I'm going to fail English D: These aren't even life changin exams! HOW WILL I COPE WITH THE MEASLY NCEA SYSTEM?

Anyway...Nationals...for my gym buddies is in 4 days. I'm not going, thanks to my demented foot (which conviniently is healed now...suppose late is better than never). I feel pretty darn useless. As usual.

Oh well.

And one more thing, if you feel I am being bitchy, self centred or attention seeking in anyway, please just say it to my face? Please save me the paranoia and panic caused by your subtle mimicks. Thank you. Write me a clear concise hate email, cuber bully me, I don't care. Once the knowledge is in my hands, I will have a valid excuse for digging myself a deep well to jump into.
And don't lecture me. I don't need anymore lectures.

Thank you for your cooperation.

"I trust you because you're around all the time"
Damnit, I'm never going to be trusted. I'm never around long enough to truely be patriotic to some form of club, school, city, country. I'm never around long enough to get to know people, people aren't around me long enough to get to know me.
It's a vicious cycle.

I got a job! Not paid yet, just experience for now. But a dark cloud of politics seems to be hanging over the subject. I hate reputations as much as I despise politics.

It's been a long and painful day. One of those days where I feel like I'm being ignored. But what the heck, I am being ignored. I speak, apparently not loud enough? Do my opinions not count? When do I speak too much? When too little? Constantly. I feel unwanted, I feel awful. I feel pissed off at everyone for no apparent reason. It's not 'til I get home I realise, 'Hey! I did a social studies test today, I ATTENDED MATHS TUITION(!), I did full twists and giants and hiccups and vault', but I feel utterly terrible. It's actually been a good day. It was a sunshiny good day.
Yet everything's still painted a shade of grey.

This is NOT depression. Depression is black and red and blood and bed. This is not depression.

Why am I rhyming so much?

I don't know how to tell people that I feel unwanted, I feel completely insignificant, perhaps I am? In some ways I feel betrayed, I feel repulsed by my own self, based on the way others treat me, some part of MYSELF is turning on ME. Something is conflicting and twisting and screaming betrayal and screaming my name.

But everything is going so well, I am confused as to why I feel unhappy. Why? What is there to worry about? Is there something my subconciousness know that my concious mind is not aware of? Is it paranoia? I want to capture this dark twisted and grosteque object and lock it up where I don't have to worry about it again. But how can you catch something when you don't know what you're looking for?

I'm grateful, to havea penpal. I don;t even know her. But that makes it so much easier.
I just want to talk to someone who will listen.
And I'm tired of having to speak what you want to hear.
You should listen to what I have to say.

Please.
Listen.

It really scares me...loud giggling clans of girls excited after not seeing each other for 2 weeks? Charming. I don't have the same reaction after not seeing someone for 2 months, or 2 years. I love observing the meagre happenings and school, everything is so stereotypical, to the right hand side of me, there are the studying Asians comparing notes (note, I DO NOT fit into that category), behind me there is gossip gossip gossip. There's books in front and to the left of me, I'm facing a wall in the corner, isn't that sad?

It makes me feel shallow minded when highly intelligent people my age discuss career options and what they plan to do with their lives in such clarity, while I wonder out loud about stupid and unnessecary things like why toes evolved so differently from fingers. I just wonder, aren't there better things for me to waste my brain cells on? (If I have any brain cells which haven't malfunctioned of course, even a couple that are capable of doing things correctly.) All these people, so potential ridden and perfect, thinking of others before themselves.

On top of all that, I read this >http://ourfeistyprincess.blogspot.com/
It's heartbreaking.
So now I feel like a terrible person.

Looking through my school report last year, I feel as if these stupid teachers know nothing. Many of them used 'friendly' to describe me. My mum reckons that they just use a template and cut and paste everybody's name into the little comment box. I can't help but feel a little neglected, but I guess being a 3rd former/Turd/Year 9 is just an excuse to put less effort into the report and remain oblivious to the facts. (On the bright side, it was a pretty positive report.)

I think it may be this oblivious outlook on life that sets off the sudden and dramatic realisation of insignificance when you compare yourself to the rest of the world. That horrible lost feeling I get so often. Does acknowledging this insignificance make a difference to your outlook and achievements in the world?

Argh school tomorrow.
Time to can my ramblings.
Back to purgatory.

=.=

Once upon a time there was happy ending.
It seemed
the promising resolution of a single problem
could sustain the rest of life
in some sort of delusional paradise.
Perhaps this was the case, constant sunshine and smiles,
aquiring a resin coating, becoming plastic,
artificial.

This strange perception,
assumed,
The End.
Happily Ever After.
Given in the honour of one obstacle crossed,
one maiden rescued
A damsel away from the dragon.
Death avoided once.
Death avoided always?

An end is infinite,
so it is only correct that we assume
One or the Other

Where is the reconciliation for those who did not make it to the last yellowed page?

It feels like we are made to take sides,
Brutal morals
Brutal Ends.
Curses and Witches exist very much so in our world,
And so on a torn manuscript we threw on a happy ending to keep the peace.
Is it the same in reality?
We can only thrust our hopes into a wishing well,
And wish for the happy ending.

Poems are so incoherrent they make sense.
That's why I love them so much :)

WE WON THE RUGBY WORLD CUP! WOOHOO!!!

I ♥
NZ

Now this is proof that we weren't living in the delusional paradise. The All Black s are bloody awesome! (AB=BA)
Now all I need is another public holiday.

My voice sounds utterly disgusting on recording. Nothing like how I hear it myself, on tape it's so annoying it makes me want to shut up somemore. I might have said that before. But I unfortunately heard myself on recording again today. It sounds so bad even I wonder how people put up with it (since I'm so excessively loquacious). How retardedly discouraging. People tell me to shut up all the time. I suppose it's understandable.

I don't have voice which is worth listening to.

Mom took me shopping today. It was horrible, she took me straight from gym, so I was forced to walk around in a chalky cloud in my gym gear for 2 hours (not that I really cared haha, I like that people avoided me). I think she finds it really difficult to make me seem presentable. I'm one of those 'get-up-in-the-morning-and-put-on-the-first-thing-you-see' people...I think in all I have only like, 5 t-shirts in my entire wardrobe...I might even have more pajamas than presentable outing clothes. I love pajamas, they are my favourite clothes (and the best part is no body sees them!)

It was a leetle bit intimidating seeing all these well dressed/skinny people at Dressmart. Okay so it was extremely intimidating and I lost all trace of my self esteem seeing my disgusting reflection. I hate clothes/shoe shops because there are so many mirrors.

I think I've said that before.
Anyway, observing all the well dressed people convinced me that dressing like a guy was so much better. Pretty much all the guys I saw were wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with a hoodie or a bush shirt on top. That's pretty much all I am capable of wearing (and gym gear of course). On the other hand of the spectrum, most of the girls donned shorts (not that I can say much, my gym shorts are pretty short for public use) and dressy tops with long necklaces and what not. I'd say 75% of them either wore mini shorts, shirts or dresses.
As I said, dressing like a guy is so much easier. I just like to be comfortable you know?

Anyway, some good did come out of the 2 hour shopping trek, I got myself a nice hoodie.
That's about it.

Bad news about last night, I didn't get to finish my awesome dream. I guess that's just not how the way dreams work :(
Or maybe I ate too much cereal.

I really think I should improve my swimming skills, it's no good haveing a life survival skill as a weakness. My penpal's awesome dream (which crazily enough, portrays me completely and utterly accurately) reminds me of my crap (non-existent) ability to swim, so next term I'm gonna make an effort. It's weird, I don;t like swimming, but I LOVE surfing, it's so incredibly fun!!! And I like kayaking too, so it kinda doesn't make sense haha. It must be the chlorine :P
How did I even get to talking about this?!

Well, I'm going to comfort my stomach with more cereal (seriously, I think I'm addicted).
Feel free to donate more Cocoa 'O's to my house if you have any (and if you know where my house is).

nom nom nom

I have had 3 bowls of cereal today. Some kind of variation of cocoa pops, (because I can't stand cocoa pops). They looked like mini crunchy chocolate donuts. Swimming in Cleopatra's bathtub.
nom nom nom
I can't help it! I'm just way too hungry. And also probably because I'm bored, and eating is a good way to pass the time. Isn't that terrible? I was watching channel 7 and there was a programme on about genetic mutations (which was one of my prior obsessions) talking about how some people have a gene when they can't recognise when they are full. I must have that problem.
I'm so hungry!!!

I hope this extra food will be promoted to the store of growth which I know is waiting a signal from my brain to release. I hope it will not filter into the endless pit of fat I already harness.
My mum borrowed this book called 'Why the Chinese don't count Calories' in an effort to sway me from my calorie counting obsession.
It's not working.

ANYWAYS...

My Random Dream
Yea, okay I had another one of those incredibly clear and random dreams last night. Starring me, My Penpal Tasha and My Awesome Auckland Buddy Nicole.
What happened was...
I got a text from my penpal. Now in my head, I normally just refer to her as 'Tash' incase I say 'Eeiyn' wrong, so I found it weird that...
A. She was in my contacts as Eeiyn (her name comes up on the screen when I get the message)
B. She was in my contacts in the first place (not that I don't want you there haha).
Anyway, the text said: 'come 2 AIC! Nicky got us free passes!' (I don't even know how that is possible, oh, and text language was dictated as seen).
I remember going up 4 escalators, until I was in an office building, but kinda like Changi Airport? Like with the random indoor plants with fishfood looking granules around them and random water feature here and there. I found Tash and Nicky in a library style classroom, (minus the books) with random tables in the middle f the room, or scattered around it. Like in kindergarten! Or maybe not really. Little hexagonal tables (well not so little because we were sitting at them comfortably) in a relaxing shade of mottled blue. (I think they had tote trays but no one bothered to put their stuff in). I think I entered the dream knowing exams were over which is really random because
A. I don't even have exams
B. If we got a free pass in to the school why would we bother about exams?!
We got chatting (about what I cannot remember), and Tash complained it was too cold because we were sitting underneath the air conditioning. For some weird reason, we were all wearing RI uniforms (Tash's School) even though we were at AIC (Nicky's school)? Green knee length sorta skirts with white blouses?!
Suddenly, this random looking teacher guy that looked like Jim Carrey told us we had to shift classrooms because we were being too loud. We kinda just abrutly got up and started walking without packing up, although it seemed normal (because my dreams totally don't make sense). We got out of the classroom into a completely different setting from when I actually walked into the classroom, but it still looked like Changi Airport, with random carpet, (like when you walk down to the gates with the loooooong travelators haha). While we were walking, I caught a glimpse of our reflections and our Green and White RI uniforms turned into maxi dresses?! I don;t even know how this is releveant but oh well. Random people were staring at us. (And I think everyone in this dream was Asian, just saying). We filed into another classroom with beige carpet (Changi Airport style) and sat down, This time the desks were in a 2 by 2 setting like in American middle school movies and Tash sat next to me while Nicole dragged a chair over. This random Korean girl came over and said to me 'You forgot your bag!' and Tash was like 'I have that bag too!' and Nicky comes over with her chair and whisks my computer out of no where (or behind her back it seemed) and says 'You forgot your computer too!' (I didn't know I was capable of loosing it...but then again we left abrubtly as I said hahaha, I don't know why everyone else had their stuff and I didn't have mine). I turned around to get my computer and when I turned back Tash was under the table getting something. This new classroom was even colder than the previous one and suprise suprise we eneded up under the air conditioner again. Tash appeared from under the table and thumped this ENORMOUS binder onto the table, she opened it and notes kinda ruffled out. She then proceeded to teach me some chem, but all I can remember is that she drew tons of diagrams with flouroscent liquid in a test tube. All of a sudden, the Jim Carrey teacher dude materialised at the front of the classroom and then...

I woke up =.=
It was my stupid alarm's fault.
Tonight I'm gonna see if I can finish the dream.
(if that's even possible)
It was awesome.

Change brings a new flurry of thoughts and actions and outcomes.
*sigh*
I hate when people don't tell me things. 'Cos then I plan everything out in my head, and then I have to reorganise it all. I depise reorganising.
And I despise change.

Sometimes it's hard to figure out whether you hate someone to the core or whether you actually enjoy their company. I think gym coaches fall into this catergory. Because no matter how much we say we hate you and bitch about you behind your back (don't worry, all girls bitch about everyone, I've seen it, heard it and done it myself), I think to a certain extent, the company and contructive/deconstructive criticsim is very comforting. A sense of certainty and social jibber jabber comes from this relationship, there's always something to talk about, and there's always advice to be given.

I feel like love hate is one of those things that my life runs on.
love hate love hate hate love hate love hate
hate love hate love love hate love hate love
love hate love hate hate love hate love hate
hate love hate love love hate love hate love
strong words
Strong Emotions.

For a not so strong girl.

It's funny how some people have complete lack of trust in me. And everytime I say something they flinch as if I am mocking them, until that flitting of disbelief strides across their faces as they realise I am in fact saying something meaningful.
(Olivia I am talking about you.)
:P

Anyway, I'm spending my holidays doing what I do best:
A. Procrastinating at the voices in my head that I will do my homework soon.
B. Intensive Internet Usage (IIU)
C. Music (this includes...downloading, exchanging, finding sheet music, tone deaf yowling, and playing piano =.=)
D. Talking with my awesome penpal Tasha.

We're half way through the 2 weeks of freedom granted and I still haven't done anything constructive. Apart from learning to swear and say bad words in sign language, my holiday achievement list has lain stagnant. The most disappointing round so far. Oh well.

That's all I have to say today that will fit into this blog post. I shall write something more deep and meaningful later, if not tomorrow.

Lay it on THIIICK.
I think it is absolutely hilarious when people use so much sarcasm that the joke turns on them. I find it most amusing. In my mind, sarcasm should be used subtly and with skill. It is not for one to flaunt and throw at will, or else you just show how unskilled you are at wit.

Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.

It's such a strange topic; sarcasm, most strange on how the human brain picks it up.
For some people, sarcasm just doesn't click, they look at you blankly until you point it out. Others just take things literally. Some people have trouble expressing themselves through sarcasm, it's too light, not enough of a mocking tone pressed upon the words. And so other people don't get the message; end up doing things the wrong way and the frustration gets distributed around all.

I think I use sarcasm a little too openly. So much so that it is assumed that everything I say is sarcastic. Well, don't assume. I do say things meaningfully sometimes.
Occasionally. (Not in one of my philosophical rants though...)
Talking back is also one of my specialties, this is of course when sarcasm comes in handy, and sometimes you can talk back to sarcasm too, without sarcasm. Still with me? That takes true skill.

This is something I am not afraid to admit I am good at.
Sarcasm.
Fluent of course.

We are watching the rugby. This is a tremendous achievement for us, we NEVER watch rugby because A. I have convinced them all it is a barbaric game and B. We don't have time nor can be bothered. Neverless tonight is different, it is semis with NZ and OZ and of course New Zealand is going to win because All Blacks are awesome.

Weird team spirit aside, I suppose you must new my new obsession.
Argh it sounds so bad, but yes...
COUNTING CALORIES is my new obsession. Don't get me wrong, I still love my psychological disorders, but with all this retarded calorie knowldege I could becaome a nutritionist too! Or I could be an anorexia specialist. Whatever.

I have spent almost the whole day making cool people blogs and moping.
It is what I do best of course.
And although I told my penpal Tash that I might have pictures today in my post...I couldn't find the camera. I am sorry :(

But I will try for tomorrow!
TOMORROW IS A NEW DAY!
I am in a weird mood today.

There's a lot of things out there which we associate with randomness. A good test for a random person is to get them to name 25 objects in 30 seconds. See how random they are by comparing the randomness of the objects they name.

ME AND 25 RANDOM OBJECTS/PEOPLE I NAMED
1. Queen Victoria
2. Hot Chocolate
3. Unicorns
4. Mashed Potatoes
5. Fruit Kebabs
6. Platypuses
7. Hapsichords
8. Ireland
9. Jandals
10.Mahogany (The colour!)
11.Prawns
12. Wristbands
13. Bamboo
14. Beef
15. Pizza
16. Beethoven
17. Narwhals
18. Envelopes
19. Salt
20. Triangles
21. Babylonians
22. Bill Gates
23. Sprinklers!
24. Unicorns
25. Maple Syrup

How random am I?
(That's not a real test by the way, but I just wanted to see how many random objects I had the ability to name in 30 seconds. I think I did pretty well. What do you think?)

It has been pointed out the unicorns are noted twice on the list, but I am not going to change it because otherwise it was not done truthfully in 30seconds!
It must just show how much I love unicorns.
Even though I don't.
Not really anyway.
They just are ever so random.
Teehee!

I always have this nagging feeling that people are out to get me. It's like everything said becomes criticism, directed at me. It's like people mock me every time I walk into a room and people laugh. I don't know. I have no faith in others.
Thinking about those who care for you always ultimately leads to you thinking about who you care for, or vice versa. In my case, one of these lists is quite a but longer than the other. You can guess which one is shorter.

I don't like admitting that I care. It's this delusional thing I have that emotion is weak. Well, I suppose it is, but at the same time, I don't want to be the strong one, the person everybody leans on. And I can't be relied on, I have much too short an attention span for that.

I fell as if I repeat myself more and more frequently these days. And my memory/eyesight/strength is depreciating. The other day I was talking to one girl before lunchtime, and then I repeated the same things she said to me after school not realising that she was the one who told me previously. Fail. As I always say, I live for awkward. It is one of my special talents.

I like collecting those little packets of shampoo and coffee and sugar you get in hotels/motels. I used to have an entire collection, but then we threw them all away when we moved from Christchurch, so I have to start a new one. Maybe one day it will become a world record. And instead of being a crazy cat lady I will become a crazy collectables lady.

Speaking of collectables, I accidentally broke one of my mother's collectable football world cup glasses from Meccas. My hand eye coordination fails me once again. This post is very random. Kinda like following my train of though. My train of though is so retarded. Most people have trains of thought which proceed in straight lines and logical topics, bu my trains of though are utterly spastic. They jump from here to there and up and down and have 360 degrees of movement in a 5 dimensional environment. (I don't even know how that is possible, I just wanted it to sound technical.)

I don't think I feel well today.

Yea, I'll have an extra large helping. What do you mean you're all out?!
Yea I missed out on stability in the gene jackpot. I only got a participation certificate for scoring the best genes. Instead my parents got a rebelious little brat, ugly as a hag and completely contumacious, perfect to experiment on as a first child.

But now...
Now what? Why must I be the one who holds all retarded responsibility and all?
Ew. Responsibility? Ew.
Don't look up to me.
Don't lean on me.
I'm the worse big sister in the world.

I don't even know why this blog post is entitled 'Stability'. It has nothing to do with anything. But oh well. That's the way I roll.

I think once you get used to expressioning yourself through the word 'fuck' its hard to go back to 'fudge'. I shall try. I never said I'd try hard.
And that's why the problem is today. Everyday, people wrongly assume things to be. For example, if I say that I'd do something, I never said I'd do something now. So don't assume that it would be done right this instant and I will have it prettily packaged for you in the next 5 minutes. Because in that case you don't know me at all.
If I say I read something, I don't mean I memorised it.
If I say I tried something, it doesn't mean I liked it.

Geez people.

As yesterday's post mentioned, I'm feeling very pissy at the moment. Ridiculously so. I don't even know why. I refuse to blame it on PMS, that's just stereotypical.
But then again, I am stereotypical aren't I?
Am I?

Paranoia is queer. It can drive you to great heights, and it can drive you towards the ground at invincible speeds. And yet the entire concept of paranoia, is set on the plane of make believe. It's not real. It's an illusion. A strange, blown up version of reality that really isn't reality at all.

Paranoia begins to take it's grip when you realise things aren't as they seem. Misjudgement and mistakes fuel the hidden obsession. You don't want it to happen again. I don't want it to happen again. We'll do everything we can to avoid the circumstances that lead us to where we are now, so much so that we start avoiding everything. We avoid things that look, see, smell, taste, anything that could lead us into another forbidden abyss. Another mistake. Gradually, this becomes a matter of secondary connections, one thing leading to another. Suddenly everything is relatable to everything. Thus we start avoiding everything. We avoid things that aren't even there.
People. Colours. Monsters. Shadows

And once you can't tell what's real, it's harder to make decisions.
Cling on to things that aren't there, run away from things which you could have held onto.
Perhaps this is an the explanatory behind the obsessions.
Or are they really just distractions?

I feel like I'm being increasingly bitchy around people. You probably don't like it. I don't like it. I don't like the way I retaliate or walk away, I seem to be incompatible with people. It's definitely not the time of the month, or else I'd be irritated at you every month huh?
My mind is twisting things around. I feel like I'm being ignored, but I like it. I like not being given a crap about actually, I like being the girl who sits in the back and hides behind her hair. But it's guilt that catches up with me, why are my parents paying so much moolah for me to waste my time away at gym? To be ignored? Could I have done better in those tests? Why is it so that this result has come about? And so I am not the girl who sits at the back, I am the girl who sits in the front with her hand permanently extended into the air. It's disgusting. I should not be so enthusiastic for a girl who really doesn't care about things like that.

I am paranoid about some things. About impressions. I am always paranoid about impressions, what people think, so I try and come across as not really caring, even though I do care, too much so, and I am contradicting myself from the last paragraph. =.=
I am paranoid about tests and feat of judgement. I genuinely believe I am going to fail every test, that is a genuine reaction you see in maths before my paper comes back. You call it a 'bad attitude' I call it paranoia (unless paranoia is my attitude of course, now that would be interesting).

Enough. I have said what I need to say today.
My Attitude > Paranoia

That's right, I wrote a couple more hundred words for your boredom/entertainment. As usual, ignore the tense changes, some of it was written on the go and other bits were recall :P

DAY TWO
I was forced to sleep on the sofa bed with my sister, and so my back hurts like crazy because of the bed configuration. All beds, including sofa beds should pull out flat right? Well this particular sofa bed pulled out like a lopsided canyon, sunken in the middle, rising higher on one side (where your head goes) and rising (but not as high) on the other side. And unfortunately since I sleep like some sort of seal on my tummy, I must have been sleeping like a banana. Conveniently, I went to bed at 12.30pm and woke up at 5.30, a restful (cues sarcasm) sleep for me on a delightfully retarded sofa bed. =.=
We're out of there now though, back in the shiny white van of course! I'm munching througha ginormous bag of salsa doritos, these things TASTE SO GOOD! It is still raining, I'm not sure whether it just looks like it's heavy because the van is going so fast or whether it 's actual downpour. Either way, we're driving away from Rotorua now. Back to the rural road of course, pine forest on the left, and nocholant sheep chewing on the right, neither of which I am keen on. BUt because we are travelling at 100km an hour, the scenary changes (not dramatically) in the time it takes for me to tyoe every sentence. So imagine each ffull stop as a change of scenery (my words per minute is 55+, if you want to calculate times, I can;t see anyone being bothered though). THere's little streams f water on each side of the road, makeshift drains I suppose so there musy be rain here often.

DETOUR
Dad turned into some detour, and we took a look at some mud pools. It was magnificently awesome, my sister thought it was disgusting, but I found it fascinating (because I'm weird). We then drove back round to a shop selling honey, but it was rather disappointing. I thought the people running the shop were rather unhelpful, preferring for us to use our own discretion rather than help us as they should have (well, that's why I though anyway).

ICE CREAM AND HONEY
We found another decent honey place...with testers! And I had ice cream, because Kapati is just too hard to resist...apple cinnamon and coffee (a scoop of each) plonked on a waffle cone, despite the fact that it was STILL raining) became my best friends for the time before they entered my tummy. nom nom nom
5 minutes after the ice cream/honey place, we pulled up to a kiwifruit orchard with giftshop and all. Me, still stuffing my face with ice cream (tastes so good!) and all the other girls in the car (the little boy was zonked out and the driver, exhuasted) went for a browse, and then far a camwhore (not me!) in front of the giant kiwifuit sculpture. I must have consumed about an accumalative tablespoon of manuka honey- UMF 10+ (just saying, it just means that it's really good for you I think).

TE PUKE
Next little (ish) town stop, Te Puke. (For non kiwis/people with no NZ or Maori experience, It does not rhyme with the English word equivelant to barf, you have to say each syllable individaully). We walked around scouting for somehting to eat cos it was aout 1,30pm and I'd had the most out of everyone (an ice-cream and some rice cracker things). No luck, we got a pie or two and shared them throughout the van but we were still pretty hungry. I can't explain why I always feel ravenous (if I ever turn food away, DO NOT ask me if I'm sure, because if you hold food in front of my face any longer I'm likely to grab the packet and run scoffing the lot as I go... so GET FOOD AWAY FROM ME!)
Anyways, after a little more driving and strolling, we gave up and drove on. How long for, I canpt remember, I seem to lose track how long I stare at green grass and ponder aimlessly for.

TAURANGA
The rain subsided a little, not completely, but enough that we didn't need to hold on to our jackets for dear life. I must say, Tauranga has some pretty impressive infrastructure for such a minor town. I think NZ needs to upgrade more of it's towns into cities. Anyway, we headed to the beach, where a vessel is spilling oil into the ocean. There were temporary warning signs everywhere, the oil spill has made national (if not international) headlines and the authorities are keen to show everyone they aren't completely useless. There were people sporting visibility vests and escorting people off the beach while other people donned bright blue gloves and attempted to scoop the oil and sludge off the beach. Naturally, it was cloudy (raining remember?) so visibility out to sea wasn't so good, but you could still make out the outlines of the abandoned vessel out on the water, helplessly spurting oil on the horizon. Depressing stuff.

SCENARY
We're driving home now. I can tell my dad's getting impatient with all the stopping and starting and eating and shopping. The scenary's changed again. It's more than the typical cows and sheep now. We're starting to see some kiwifruit orchards and rivers/lakes, or though I have a feeling their temporarily caused by the torrent of rain coming from above. A third of the people in the van are sleeping (obviously I'm not one of them!), but I suppose you can't help it in conditions like this, grey skies just can't help but make you feel groggy.

MINES
We've stopped somewhere. Everyone's awake. The big white van is stationary, parked along side a river (which I thought I saw some sort of creepy black thing swimming in before), with a creepy looking bridge. No fear! There is a sign that says there is a maximum of 10 persons allowed at one time...what does that tell you about the bridge? Once we're on, it starts swaying like mad, this is mainly because one of my hyperactive sisters is jumping up and down on it. The river looks tepid, with bubbling froth atop the murky green water, it's impossible to tell how deep it is. The other side of the river sees us to a sign tht tells us that we can take a series of walks along the river. We cross another bridge, which is even wobblier than the last! There are concrete ruins, and the rocks at our feet sport a rusty tinge.

We finally decided to go for a walk, there is a warning sign cautioning us to take care of younger children and take a torch if we have one. I figured my crappy phone would be sufficient so we set off, (me, my granma's friend; Crystal, and two of my awesome sisters). The youngest of my sisters runs up a random staircase and we follow her. It's wet and muddy, but the water reside on the top and we know which puddles to avoid. The ground is yellow and orange, so it's either clay soil or some sort of mineral. We're following a traintrack, very high up some sort of hillside, but you can still hear the thrashing of the river along side. After about 5 minutes of walking, the track gets muddier and my sister spots a cave. We're apprehensive, but as we approach, we realise that there is light visible at the enf of the cave, so we proceed anyway. The cave is nothing compared to the one we're about to encounter. We go through 3 caves, but the third cave is PITCH BLACK. My stupid torch does nothing, so about half way into this third cave we back out. Well, everyone backs out, so I have no choice. Fail.

And so we start to walk back. About 5 minutes back, we encounter an alternate staircase leading downwards and I persuade everyone to go down it, I mean, if we're too freaked to go into a pitch black cave we can at least try another path. We see a lot of ruins along the way. Barely 3 minutes into the walk, Crystal starts to get agitated and Tasha (the big sister, well little to me but still) and Helain (the smaller sister) back her up. I keep walking so they are forced to follow me. (Bhahaha! I am the Dictator...)

We see a lot of ruins, with little information boards and Tash makes a video of the whole thing.

And you know what? We made it out! Gee, people never trust me. We had to cross the same two bridges as before to get back, but it was totally worth it. Made me feel alright about eating so much. When we got back to the van I'm sure everyone was a lot more energised than when we set off before, especially us cool people who had gone for a little trek through the wilderness.

PAEROA
The little town with the L 'n' P bottle was shouting out PHOTO OPPORTUNITY to my mother so we had to stop. I am ashamed to say there is now a putrid photo of me on my mother's camera. I must delete it when we get home. Crystal, being a retired rhythmic herself, did some uber flexi moves, and a random hobo on a motorbike wolf whistled, which was exceptionally amusing :P

ON THE ROAD AGAIN
We are all starving, and Dad is driving hard and erratically. The box cart is jarring from side to side. I'm ravenous (naturally) again, even though there's loads of biscuits and cookies and fuge and marshmallows, but I need something savoury. Drive faster Dad!

AUCKLAND!
And we've pulled up at a random Chinese restaurant. There are 9 of us, and 12 seats at the table, but as usual I sit by myself (that's right, even with my one blood relations I sit by myself). I'm not hungry anymore. My underweight sister has lost another 2 pounds, I am astounded by her progress...IT'S SO UNFAIR!

BUt fatness aside, I am home now, which is ultimately why I am able to post this...
I will add photos in a while...
And one of the normal schizophrenic sounding posts as you love me for.
Stay tuned!

Hey people,
Because of our spontaneous holiday plans, I felt guilty leaving my blog viewers behind for so long, and I was planning to write a really long and pointless recount for you to read, but since my dad has 'accidentally' purchased a whole pile of internet to use for the day, I may as well post it now. Happy reading!
(I apologise how some of it is in past tense ans some of it is in present, towards the end it becomes the normal schozophrenic view thing which you would be so used to reading about.)

STARTING OFF
We're going. Here we are on the Southern motorway, in a bright white minivan (previously rented by the Sprinkboks, just saying) heading to Rotorua, the city that smells like farts (just kidding!) The car really is quite spectacular, it's the kind you see in CSI Miami where newspaper covers the windows and little kids get offered free lollipops to have a ride. I feel like I'm sitting in a box cart.
But car complaints aside, the weather isn't exactly the best either. I'm missing gym. I feel fat instantly. Not that it's going to stop me from splashing out at countryside bakeries. I love country side bakeries. They are the highlight of roadtrips (to me). I dislike scenary (well, taking photos of scenary with me in them), I don't like cows or sheep or horses or goats. How come we eat so much chicken but never see chiken running around in fields? Oh well. Boring. I do like trees, but not pines. If I ever had to live in the wilderness it would not be in a pine forest. And definately not in Siberia or Alaska. *shudders*

Anyway, more about Rotorua...it's a geothermal active town, which means there's geysers and mudpools and spas and the like, which is what we're going to take a look at. We're staying one night, in some sort of double extended twin suite apartment thing, since there's so many of us (hence the minivan). This is the first family outing/road trip we've embarked on since we left Christchurch. (This is mainly because our current car is not big enough to hold all of us.)

We're off the motorway now. Instead of metal barriers we're now looking at shelterbelts and teletubbie land fields with sheep instead of teletubbies. Or cows. I really don't care. But we're not exactly on a rural road like the one's we normally travel on. Rural roads don't have two lanes on each side (infact we're approaching 3 lanes on each side), and they don;t have nighlamps every 5 metres. It's like a rural motorway. Weird.

A traintrack has appeared alongside the road, and we just passed by a stationary train (must have broken down), pulling about 13 containers. I've always wondered what was in those containers, and if there was anyway to tell what was inside by just looking at them. But in the process of typing that the train track has disappeared from view, and the teletubbie land fields had regained their place.
I'm bored. And we're barely half and hour into the trip. And I have a computer to entertain myself with (that sounds wrong).

LATER...
I've just realised we're travellling the same road we took last year for Nationals. It probed slightly nostalgic sighs from my mother and I. I'm so bored I'm actually doing my homework! We've passed around 7 fields of cows and 3 fields of sheep, as well as 2 cemeteries. Just saying. And we just passed candyland! I forced the dirver to turn around, and we ended up with $15 worth of lollies. nom nom nom

AT CAMBRIDGE
It has suddenly become very hot. Mum's gone to the information island for God knows what. I'm having trouble opening the windows in this stupid van. =.=

DRIVING AWAY FROM CAMBRIDGE
I love music. Which is why I am blasting it at 170 decibels, and singing with my horrendous yowl. Mum made 2 whole packets of chicken wings, but I think I might have consumed the majority of one packet.

ROTORUA-ISH
We've arrived at the Zorb place, but I can't be bothered doing it today. Accross the road from the Zorb place, there is a random farm show which we are going to see (for the sake of my grandma and her friend, who if i haven't metioned before, are travelling with us; in fact we are kinda travelling for them). I have been told I am a 12 year old for the purposes of the farm show (so mum can smuggle me in as a 'child'). No one questioned us! (I suppose they can't do much about it anyway. I acted super immature, which was not entirely difficult for me.)

THE SHOW
Well, I learnt a lot of random facts about sheep. And I got free sheep wool (I'm a sucker for freebies). And my awesome sister got called up to feed the lambs. But I didn't find it exactly entertaining. Almost no one there spoke English (it was a very touristy type occasion) so much so that they had earphones and translations suited in 8 different languages. And also the whole area smelt like sheep. I do not like the smell of sheep.

ROTORUA...FINALLY
At the motel thing now. It is raining and raining and raining, and everything smells like sulphur. We tried to go to the park to look at the geysers before, and there was one of thse kick ass climbing things, but...it was raining. Mum went down to use the toilet, and we were concerned when she didnt return after the normal 5 minute period. After a while, she ran back and exclaimed "Someone had a heart attack!" which at the exact that moment an ambulance pulled up and we fled the scene promptly. At least I can say there was never a dull moment! We did some aimless driving around (as we always do) and my dad yelled at me for not finding a good fish and chip place to eat at (as he always does. I was under the impression that we'd drive around (as we were), find a shop and get some nosh. No idea what the big deal was.
In the end, we gave up. Driving around in a big white (almost windowless) van was a little daunting, we were attracting stares which only I seemed to notice. I suggested we retreat to the hotel, which is were we ended up of course. It's cosy, the typical countryside motel type with random 1970s bed covers and homey freckled carpet.

LATER IN ROTORUA
It is still raining. My siblings all made use of the HUMUNGOUS spa in the room, but I stayed out. ANYTHING to avoid getting into my togs. We had fish and chips for dinner (as expected). And I plan to watch the season finael of Grey's Anatomy (I haven't even watched the last 5 episodes but oh well). This is the life.

NOW
I am bored to death. I don't wanna be alone because knowledge that someone died next door has just got to me. Apparently for the same causes as the person who had a heart attack at the park. Sulphur is just not good for these people. And my mother keeps complaining about the smell. I actually...couldn't care less, it doesn't smell that bad to me.
We are watching Avatar, again. As much as I enjoy the movie (or enjoyed the movie) the stress caused by me watching suspensful sections is really unnessecary. I feel reatardedly anxious when watching random blue alien creatures scatter over their fallen home tree. I can hear their cries of anguish. I can't watch.
Funny how I feel compassion towards the helpless world of Pandora. I don't even connect compassion to my own world. How sad.

Tomorrow, we will climb back into that shiny white van, and I will have more random recounting for you. Right now, I need to organise my random crap.

Toodles!

I am here to talk about how 'You're just muscly' is not a suitable excuse to convince me I am not fat. For the record, those 'muscles' don't even work. I'm weak as a dead whale. I know I am disgusting and fat and stupid and retarded and ghastly and foul and repulsive and despicable and beastly and horrifying and gluttonous and horrendous and revolting and gruesome and vile and inconsiderate and uncompassionate and just generally fucked up in every way possible.

I'M SICK OF HEARING THE "You"re just muscly" RESPONSE!!!
BECAUSE IT'S NOT FUCKING TRUE!
I DON'T WANNA BE MUSCLY!
And no amount of the useless cajolling is going to sway my possessed mind from knowing I am disgustingly huge.

If I ever had to be rescued, from a burning building and the like, it would be guilt on the rescuer's part because they would be unable to lift me. I'd probably just die there anyway.
I ponder sometimes, how many other ways I can destroy myself. Because it's just not worth it. I wish I had a purpose. I wish I wasn't always hopelessly lost. I wish I could take the mixed signals and get them to point me in a direction that exists.
Cut and Burn and Starve.
Reject and Shout and Cry.

Someone told me the other day that I was closer to perfect than most people. She was under the impression that I was perfect. Or almost there. And for some strange reason, I didn't retort. I wondered how much I could pull off. I wondered how much I could hide. And that same day my gym coach told me she thought she knew when I was lying. I didn't say anything to that either.

I wish I could hold my hand to my heart and feel what kept me alive rather than what I wish would stop. I have no purpose in life. I don't make income. I don't plan to reproduce. I have not changed the world or revolutionised anything. I have not made people's lives better. I have made their lives worse. I have brought upon them the curse, of remembering.

Maybe it is not a curse. I don't really care.
BUT YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER
I don't give a shit about being muscly.





I swear quite a lot. Increasingly when I am angry. Excessively when I am angry. I don't know whether I swear when I'm angry or whether I get angry when I swear, but the first option seems more likely. Swearing in sign language is fun. And disturbing. People used to look shocked/suprised when I swore. Otherwise I tend to head towards more intricate English, as I find 'normal English' far too monotonous and cliche. And I despise cliches. Yuk.

'Yuk' is one of those words which I am never quite sure how to spell correctly. Is it 'yuk' or 'yuck' or 'yukky' or 'yucky'? Is one of the spelling's American? We seem to blame American's for a lot of things nowadays. Steve Jobs died! Putting it out there.

Back to cliche lanaguage. I think if we all continue as we are in TV dramas and crazy predictable movies ALL of English language is going to become cliche. This is why I endeavour to use words like 'pellucid' instead of 'see through'.

I'm going through one of those random periods of deep thought. Because it's the holidays. And because I have time. I keep thinking back to one person, which is odd, because normally I live by the motto of hating everyone ("I hold no prejudices, I hate everyone equally", don't go cussing me on my bad attitude) but I can't help thinking about the constantly optimistic outlook on life some people can have (obviously not myself!)

There are people you never realise how grateful you are to have until they are taken away.
But I still never learn.

It's the holidays!
But I'm actually really bored already.
I should outline my holiday goals shouldn't I?

Here they are.
-Learn more that the alphabet in sign language.
-Learn Korean (Eeiyn, I enlist your help in this sector)
-Learn Korean sign language.
-Loose weight.
-Buy a swiss army knife.
-Loose weight.
-Learn to throw my voice (if I'm not already doing so unintentionally)
-Stop eating so much junk.
-MAKE CUTE PLUSH STUFF TOYS!

It is quite boring. I never go out in the hols, last term my mother managed to drag me out once (I was still incredibly reluctant) to buy some clothes. EW! Clothes shopping is horrible. All shopping is horrible. *shudders*

We went for family outing today, which is a rare happening, since our car doesn't even fit the entire family in it. Walking around Newmarket, trying (and failing mostly) to bite ice pops even though the wind is whipping our faces, wasn't exactly my cup of tea. I only liked the eating part. Which is why I need to stop of course.

I like the taste of metal.
Just saying.

Lets see what I can accomplish in 2 weeks!

There are drunk people outside. I can hear their incoherent yelling and the triumphant yells celebrating the end of the term. My words are "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Enough said. Anyway, we all know about my obsessive rituals of scrutinizing books on psychological disorders. I'm back on eating disorders. Reading 'Brave Girl Eating' By Harriet Brown. The random part about this book is that the cover has an uncanny resemblance to Twilight (pale hands caressing an apple, although in this instance the apple is flawed and freckled and striped, but still blood red). And also the fact that I know someone called Harriet Brown. We used to be stalker buddies.
Okay, but that aside, the fact that I have been so engrossed in psychology for such a long period of time scares me. I even read 'The Idiot's Guide to Psychology' and found it interesting! Shouldn't alarm bells be sounding?

Holidays have commenced. But I think it will take me at least a week to recover from the turmoil of Term 3. And then after the holidays only exams and externals and 7 weeks of torture! And camp which is even more torturous! How I despise physical education.

I think the propinquity of year 11 isn't exactly sinking in. I can't quite decide whether it will mean more or less freedom. Subject wise, I'm pretty cool about science next year, it is something I enjoy thouroughly. Maths? Well it will depend. Economics should be okay, as long as I pass on that one. Not sure if I will even ever need to use that skill in my later life. I am regretting music as an option choice. First things first, I am absolutely rubbish at music. Certainly not capable of doing year 12 next year! But then again, I say I'm bad at everything so that isn't really an ideal way of putting it. I think I am most worried about English. The fact that I struggle with writing concise essays in limited periods of time will have to be helped next year. I struggle with the learning enviroment of my English class. There are times where it seems we are copying down pointless notes, and other times where we have discussions where I feel are unpointedly structured with favour being allocated towards the back of the class.

Did any of that just make sense? I don't think so.
Those drunk people out there are so irritating. I think in the future I will use alcohol only to drown my sorrows haha. I don't like socialising anyway. So parties with such refreshments offer no use to me.

Oh my gosh. Even I don't understand what I'm talking about.
Oh and one more thing.
The child birth video we were forced to watch has traumatised me to the point of no return. All thoughts of children have disappeared off my agenda for the rest of existence. My mother is crazy for having 5 of us. Like Freddie Mercury said "Sometimes I wish I'd never been born at all".

I'm going to bed before I can chuck anymore of my delusional thoughts here.

FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT

Sometimes if you stare at a word enough times it changes.

CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T CAN'T

Perhaps this is the way it is meant to be.

It's like life is based on that wheel you spin to win a prize, but I my wheel keeps landing on spin again, so much so that I never get anything done and the act if spinning the wheel to achieve a prize or forfeit is never accomplished.

Anyway, here I am listening to Party Rock Anthem and fretting helplessly on my solo performance in 4th period... I wish I fretted about it before so I could at least do some productive worrying. I just classed 'worrying' into the 'productive' sector! Oh well. What ever happens happens. Someone once told me to only worry when it comes, but obviously this is a terrible strategy because if I had worryed before I might have ended up getting something done. I am grateful for having old Grade 6 pieces to pull out in times of need.

It always helps to know people's pasts to know why they're like they are. And sometimes, this hidden truth, is what you wanted to hear, what you expected, but all the same you don't feel what perhaps you intended to feel, and then endless pondering becomes adamnant, and I am really not sure what I am talking about here. But I must say, I like people who talk fast and randomly and add manic little laughs into the conversation and suddenly veer of track from the original train of though, because it is so much like myself. And it is this trait that helps me relate to the few people who possess it also, it is this random talent where differences can be forgotten.

Bitches who look at you like "WTF?" should just go and dig a hole and bury them selves in a little grave of self centredness. Oh, sorry, I meant a huge grave of self centredness. GO and die in a fire or something, if you can't appreciate my weirdness, our weirdness, then just walk away and get over it.

Lately my hands have been really hot, like mini radiators. It's weird.
I've become a human radiator!

Sometimes, you realise that you actually care about something, someone, and that's when it's too late to do anything, and my lack of compassion is a terrible thing there.

It's the end of the term and EVERYBODY is tired and my blog posts get more and more incoherent as the day passes.

But there is still so much to be said, and I wonder why it can never be written or captured in the moment.

Sucks to be me.

A strange sense of nostalgia and regret overwhelms me. Seeing people I knew once, moving on. Because I Really Wasn't Needed, yet I'm wondering if things could have been different if they'd known a different me.

Only now do I Realise that hiding it all away doesn't help.
I think I am homesick, but how much of a home was it really?
How can you be homesick if you don't have a home?
And if home is where the heart is, I can't find it, because I really don;t know where my heart is anyway. It may have been forgotten, and left behind, or maybe it disintergrated after lack of use.

And then I realise I miss Christchurch.
And when I go to bed tonight I will have that same dream when I'm in my house in Christchurch, and I get up in the middle of the night, walk around, the house, and then when I get back to the bed, it's not there, nothing's there, everyone's gone, and I'm the only one left, until I realise the house is gone, and then everything is in flames, and I wake up.

You know why I'm scared to dream?
I never dream.

I only have nightmares.

I love caffiene. It is so awesome, because it means I cannot stop talking and the world suddenly becomes a better place. Just kidding. But coffee milk TASTES SO GOOD! The best blend of sugar and caffiene in the world.

Right now, the caffiene is not taking effect.
=.=

I often take things the wrong way. Or maybe not the wrong way, just a different way. Careless words that are thrown at my direction can send off a line of unexplained destructive behaviour, which is utterly ridiculous of course, but neverless, it happens all the same. I am often so critical about things that really don't matter, emotions that should disappear in the spur of the moment, but I hold on so dearly to those things that don't matter. As a result, those things that do matter go amiss, and the consequences hold strong for me to turn a blind eye again. It's a vicious cycle.
...

With the schizophrenic voice aside, I think that it is time for me to get a grip on my non existent sense of intergerity. How many promises have I made that cannot ever be fulfilled? How many times do I have to lie before it becomes an automatic defense mechanism?
What the hell?

...

I can't wait for the holidays! Only 5 more days of purgatory to deal with! And then there are 8 weeks more of year 10, exams of some sort to get through and the music externals in November and we are done for the year! And I can go back to completing the randomness that I normally do in the weekends (instead of doing homework haha).
And summer is approaching!
How I miss days tinged with the golden glow of sunlight...
And I get to wear my summer uniform! Thank God for that.
On another note, it is raining right now, with winds from Welly =.=
How ironic.
No wonder I'm looking forward to summer.

My blog has been utterly dead recently. No one comments, no one visits, and it is depressing, especially for a new month! (I suppose it is partially my fault, I haven't done a decent post in 2 days!) I've decided the 30 day challenge thing is lame, and so I'm not going to do it anymore. SO much for that. I lasted a week? Pah. Terrible.

Anyways, I think tomato sauce is just one of those things that goes well with everything. This is because my mum is trying to fatten me up with fried chicken (don't get me wrong I'm not complaining, it was homemade! Except for the chicken, we don't quite have a farm yet), and she tried to make it healthy by having some cauli there for us to pick at (NOT fried), so I drenched the lot in tomato sauce, and it tasted surprisingly good!
The random thing is that I don't even like tomatoes, in fact I utterly despise tomatoes, but I love tomato sauce. I like how Heinz/Watties tries to make it healthy by saying it has lycopene, because honestly, I don't really care about the healthyness of sauce. I mean, you don't see health benefits on mayonnaise do you? (Forgive me if you have, just take a photo and I will stand corrected.)

While on the subject of the content of food packaging, I was wondering, how many people actually read it on a regular basis? I know I can't help myself, I have to read what the food has in it, sometimes just to pass time, but it has actually become a habit. I think it is impossible to look at words constructed from the English alphabet and not read them, know what I mean? So it's hard NOT to read the food packet, unless you don't notice it at all of course. That's different.

Something I though of the other day; I would like to be able to recognise the orgins of different surnames. Have I mentioned this? Any old hobo could pick out an Asian surname, as long as it rhymes with ching or chong (I'm Asian too so I can make fun of it!!!) But it would be interesting to be able to pick out the background of a person just by reading their last name. Welsh surnames? South African surnames? I don't know. I suppose it would just come from exposure to people of different natures. Must mean Asians are taking over (fail).

Another thing, I think I misused the ';' (semicolon I think it is called?!) in the above paragraph. How the heck are you supposed to use those things?! And what kind of name is 'semicolon'? It sound like some sort or gland in the human body which is quite substantial.

Oh my gosh.
What the heck.

My brain power is depleting!

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