boring and devastatingly pointless

to try and capture everything that's happened in the holidays in one, succinct post. I'll just end up sounding like those gay fifteen year olds: late nights. laughs. fairy floss. hugs. coffee. good times. long train trips. mishka vodka. dancing. sweat. getting barred.

nope nope nope. new favourite dessert: banana with chocolate ice-cream. best summer i've had in awhile soon to be cut short augmented by a looong time spent away from melbourne. i'll miss everyone, but i have work in half an hour.

it's simple

if you miss someone, do something about it.
I only mention this because it's something I've been trying to do this year, however completely unrelated it is to the topic on my mind.

I need a new mantra - don't be hypocritical. If I expect people to act to a certain standard and are unimpressed when they fail to, I can't stoop to the same level. My words are beyond my petty thoughts and have an impact on the people involved. Even if said people say they don't care, it doesn't make what I did any better. I'm not looking for specific forgiveness or sympathy, just some trust that I'm really not like that. You can't stop people from building impressions and this is a rather shit one. Judging people was rather shit.

They say that it is human nature to be hypocrites and living, breathing contradictions. It sounds like an excuse to me; even if that is the case, it shouldn't stop you from trying. Take responsibility.

I still sound like I'm instructing others what I need to take on board myself. We could all do with a little less judgement in the world though, I guess.

oh year nine.

things that make me smile: scraggly bunches of young phresh macrob, melbourne high and random other school combinations standing in small circles near the ticket barrier at box hill, and passing a particular group comprising of two guys and three girls, where everyone's body language is rather shy and slightly held-back except for the scrawny kid with the tiny head, almost fobbishly short hair and a pristine woolly blazer that is clearly too big for his shoulders, lapel laiden with clumsily proud badges--form captain, maths extension, macrob school badge. pallas glints at me and I am reminded irresistably of 2008. "let's swap ties!" hah.

don't know why i keep doing this to myself

or why other people do this to me.
The internet's too vast, you never know who could be reading... but to maintain a blog is to be willing to share these with a strange online audience.
It's a weird square (not even a triangle as I first thought), I feel let down, incredibly annoyed at how constrained and selective I have to be in venting, and how the last thing in the world I want to do is write a 1200 word story due in tomorrow when there are clearly more pressing concerns on my mind. I want to ask, for a peace of mind, but should I really sacrifice a possible good long-term relationship for the sake of temporary peace of mind? Will this peace of mind be temporary, and even if I do get it it will hurt my pride in another way.
"It's not anyone's fault," Mel says. Still can't help it entirely.

two day old delusions

I'm reading the motto under the logo of Arlena's old school, "Strength and Kindness."
She snorts.
Liqi says, "Arlena said it's more like 'bully or get bullied'."
High school can be such a bleak place! Seeing most of the year level blend into one melting pot of different colouerd jumpers, skirt styles (mostly short, except for Liqi's ridiculous ankle-length kilt) really emphasised everyone's different roots, educational ones at the very least... I still don't feel like a year twelve.

the pen is a tool of confidence, and you are just a tool.

In a ten minute recount of my first trip to china when I was seven years old, my mum noted with amusement that I used a total of twenty-six '然后's, or in English '(and) then's.

As my chinese 3/4 teacher said to us, 天下文章一大抄. It's something along the lines of 'all writing comes from copying/emulation', so my earlier writing all happened to be modelled upon the delightfully trashy books I consumed like wildfire. 'The Babysitters Club' had been a hit with the earlier part of gen y but because of my sister, I was acutely aware of teenage fads in the 90s. The series provided satisfying two-dimensional, typical character descriptions that were always rehashed at the beginning of each book as if to reassure us the ghost writer had not deviated from the norm to provide us with an interesting literary experience or deeper character development, god no. To be fair, kids (and some adults) don't WANT to be challenged to find deeper meaning. They want vaguely relatable characters, a good-vs-evil storyline and clearcut morals, oblivious to or unwilling to accept the fact that this often really is not the way things go, and I'm a staunch believer in the fact that fiction should always contain some kind of truth, be it inherent in the plot fabric, or reflected in an absence thereof.

So when I finally beat down the urge to word-vomit out "'that sounds fun!' exclaimed Tracey, who was tall and slim with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes", it was for the better. It was still interesting to go over those stories of a nine year old with this jarring, faithfully emulated writing style that make the present-day me only slightly freaking embarrassed.

Writing now kind of bothers me though. It's not for my own benefit and I'm always thinking about the reception. farrrrk daatttt.

/end inner fagdom.

hi kathy :) ♥

underlapped and overbooked

doublelapped and doublebooked.
I need to remember when I actually have things on

First thing my dashboard did when I came onto blogspot was inform me of templates that 'make your blog look great on your mobile!' in a convenient pop-up bubble.

pieces of glass that covered my iphone before 7.20am this morning: 1
pieces of glass that covered my iphone after 7.20am this morning: 92843923498237498273847283

Being the genius that I am, of course I'm going to shove my phone haphazardly into my pocket in the way that it will fall out when I'm getting out the car to be run over by several cars all while I'm thinking the phone is safely at home until I call the train station a few hours later to find out it isn't.

Speaking of 'genius', that's exactly the kind of bar at the shoppo Apple store I'll be visiting on Friday to sort this shit out. All I can say is, good thing I found out the ugly truth after my inter sac.

Jessie says:
*why do you always seem to be surrounded by people whose comapny you do not enjoy
____ says:
*cause the people who socialise liek normal people
*annoy me cause they're assholes
*i'd rather hang with weird people then asshole
*oui?
Jessie says:
*i think hanging out with weird people can drive you insne though
*unless you learn to adapt really well
*but then that's just settling, isnt it?
____ says:
*mmm
*oh well?
*uni will be nice?

"A world could be made in five pages, and one that was more pleasing than a model farm. The childhood of a spoiled prince could be framed within half a page, a moonlit dash through sleepy villages was one rhythmically emphatic sentence, falling in love could be achieved in a single word - a glance." --Ian McEwan, Atonement.

and this is why making dioramas in primary school sucked.

for you,

there'll be no crying.
for you, the sun will be shining.

So here I am, at your convenience.