Summer's over now, the good times are in the past

You ever know what the right thing to do is, but you just can't bring yourself to do it? I've been like that for weeks. I don't know when it started, I don't think there was any particular catalyst, it was just a dark spot in the back of my head that I'd ignore and ignore, until I couldn't anymore. It got to a point where I was keeping in so much, and ignoring how problematic they were, that I'd physically take it out on myself so that I wouldn't snap at them.

Are they, were they, worth all of that? Part of me still says yes, they still are/were some of my closest friends. They put up with so much of my crap, and never really complained. I think I trusted too much again, let out too many things that should have stayed in my head. Didn't learn my lesson about giving people close to me the perfect ammo to destroy me, but having experienced it twice now, I think I'd rather be shot in the face with it, than bleed out through tiny pinpricks over time. I still care about them, I guess, and I worry. I'll miss them every day, just like I miss her every day, but at some point you've just got to walk away, because no matter how much you love and care for someone, if they don't give a shit about you, it's just going to hurt over and over and over again.

Love too easily,
Love too deeply.
Love the rush of it coursing through your veins.

At the end of the day, that's all it was. Just another fucking drug, bringing me so far off the ground that I'd forget there was such a thing as a comedown. And sure, if you keep getting high, the comedown will never exist.

And then you stop.

Dream until you can't stop shaking

It's beautiful here. The right kind of beautiful, where the sun is shining down on everything, but the wind is rustling through the leaves and slowly swinging my rocking chair. Everything seems so peaceful on the surface, it's like a moment from a dream. Part of me wants to just disintegrate so the wind can blow me away, and I can become part of a million different other beautiful moments. Is that what everyone's chasing? I can't remember the last time I had an actual dream, it's always memories. Then the faces in the memories change, and I can't calm down and I can't be okay because there's no way to prove that it won't become another reality. How many times does it need to happen before the universe decides I've learnt whatever lesson it's trying to teach.

Build up your walls.
Build up your walls.
Build up your walls.

One day I'll make the choice, one day I'll have the guts to do what's right. I've been a selfish bitch for longer than I should have. At the end of the day, why draw something out and make it long and painful? Just say what needs to be said, and do what needs to be done. People will discourage you, sure, but nobody is more honest than they are after a night of drinking. Things were said for a reason, think about that. People also try to undo what they say, and although it never works, they try to do it for a reason.

They know not what they do, cause in the end everyone's chasing an unattainable dream.

What keeps me up at night?

Originally posted on Tumblr, but I thought I'd put it here. It's easier to keep track of. Not like anyone reads this anymore anyway, not even me.

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Depends in the night in question, really.

Some nights it’s the toddler who’s grown up so fast since I last saw her. The baby girl who us going to turn fifteen and realise she looks nothing like her daddy. The teenager who will search for the truth, who won’t give up until she dies, if she’s anything like her biological father. What will she find? Who knows. He’s a different man today than he was when I could have called him a friend.

Other nights it’s the playful kid I grew up with, who I used to tear screaming around the house with, without a care in the world. Before boys and girls had cooties, before he moved away, before we both grew up. Before we knew the real world, that made up believe the dark things that we post on our blogs. That boy’s become a man, a man I’ll pray for but never talk to, never knowing how.

It’s not always the past that keeps me awake. The people of the present, and of the future… They’re the nightmares now. Not through any wrongdoing on their part, but because, being so sure of relationships that have been ripped away in the past, has made me that much more aware of how much all of it is determined by chance. You can trust someone to the end of the earth, but given the right circumstances, any one of them could crush your heart into the ground.

It hurts, my god does it hurt. And you’ll never really know if it’s worth it, not really. Because even if you start to think it is, a little part of you will always be waiting for the pain. Because there will always be pain.

Being Ange' 101

Nothing to gain.

How the hell do I even start this? 

Walked out of hospital this morning, straight to uni... Supposed to spend six hours working on this fucking assignment. Yeah. Like that was going to happen. I can honestly barely think straight about anything anymore. Why even. How even. Give me a reason, any fucking reason why. I know I'm going to halfass this assignment, probably going to fail, along with all the other ones I haven't done. Don't bloody know why I ever thought I could deal with tertiary education. Fucking high school was already too much for me.

Hollow and alone.

Writing straight like this... These posts always end up being a lot shorter than my other ones. Because it's not just words on a page, it's not creativity coursing through my veins. Something darker maybe? No. Because the dark, whatever it might be, is definite. And what I am now, is anything but. Not alone, yeah, in the sense that there are people around. There are always people around. But that doesn't make it go away.

I believe you, when you say those things, I do. It just isn't enough to even begin to take this away.

And the fault is my own.

Karma's a bitch. I've hurt many people, and I know I've probably hurt many more and not even realised it. So I deserve what I get, and that's fair enough. However, the struggle will always be how to make this all go away without hurting the people that I care about.

Because apparently they'd hurt. Who woulda' thunk it?

And the fault is my own.

Every time I see it, it makes me sick to my stomach. No matter how many times I try to rationalise it, they're just kids. For once this isn't just me acting like I'm older and know more of the world than these people. I am older and more aware of the world, and these children - not even teenagers - look at me like I'm their greatest role model. They thought it was the biggest joke, when I told one of them: 

"Whatever you do, don't ever fucking become like me."

I'm not "edgy", or "rebellious", or whatever the fuck you want to call it. I'm so fucking broken, and don't know how much you don't want this. When you can't sleep at night because of the shadows in the walls and the screaming in your head... You'll understand why.

Don't.

Don't look at me like that.

Don't even delude yourself into thinking that you have even the slightest ability to force me to feel anything. Don't sit there and try and psychoanalyse me, because I can see right through you. I don't care how much you tell yourself that you actually give a damn about me, because we both know you don't. I don't need your pity, and I sure as hell don't need you sticking your opinions into every single part of my life.

Humanity is so illogical. For the most part, we require some kind of social interaction. However, that's where the problems occur. It seems like a very negative view of humanity, but we're actually incapable of "playing nice" with everyone, all the time. I like to imagine a world where everyone lives a perfectly self-contained existence. Depressing, maybe, but if you think about it... You wouldn't miss the social interaction if you had never experienced it, would you?

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I love how people ask me why I want to be a psychologist. They always expect some selfless bullshit about "wanting to help people".

HAHA, NOPE.

I don't give a damn about almost all of the people I encounter during my day-to-day life. If I ever actually become a psychologist, I'll care a whole lot less about my clients. Being emotionally invested in things takes energy, which I usually save for caring about the people that actually matter in my life.

The only reason I even want to do this is because it's interesting. Human beings do the strangest things for even stranger reasons. What drives a person? More importantly, what makes them break?

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Her passing was marked with grey matter splattered on white walls, for beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

There's more to this than passing by, there's more to this than meets the eye.

It's December again! Merry Christmas to all you guys who celebrate that wonderful commercial holiday. 

In case anybody accuses me of forgetting to mention anything on my blog, it was actually my birthday a week ago. I had an absolutely lovely day, going out with some people for a very long meal that we later named brunchternoon tea. It was rather odd, people kept reminding me that this was the first birthday that I hadn't been with my parents, and asking me if I was homesick. Uh, no? I admit, I missed home, a little bit on my birthday. Or rather, I missed my friends. Mostly because I am not used to formal birthday things. Birthdays for me, are days I spend with friends watching movies and eating food. I missed having you guys around okay seriously I am starting to grow wrinkles and ambition after being around adults all the time.

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So I went to work with my uncle and my little cousin today. Or yesterday, seeing as it's almost 1am here. My cousin is an adorable eleven year old, and is at that stage where she wants to act like she's twenty one. She's also the eldest child, so when I'm around I'm like the big sister she never had. This is both a good and bad thing. She's so cute and nice and things, but she also likes to be all up in my business. Especially concerning guys. I was walking around the city with her today, and usually when we go around the city, we're with my uncle or one of the people from his office. Today we were by ourselves, and well... People kept talking to me. Notable examples were the guy who was apparently named Jake, who advised me to get a tattoo of a snake around my hips, and asked me when I was coming back to visit him; and the guy who wanted me to come home and meet his family. I also learnt that while having my friends (Boyo and Demi ;) ) discuss my "amazing rack" makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, it is a completely different story if two total strangers are doing it.

Throughout the day, my cousin treated me to several insightful comments:

"Yay, we're allowed to go out without our babysitter! But what did he mean when he asked if you wanted some benefits?"

"Did you see how he looked at you? He likes you!"

"Oooh, you're right, that guy is pretty... But I don't think he'll like you, cause you're not white. But I'm totally telling a certain somebody that you find blondes attractive."

WELL.

That last comment totally floored me. As most of you would know, I'm a fairly racist individual, to everyone in general. However, I can't even hold a candle to people over here. Race is a big thing here, and as a kid, I never quite picked up on the extent of it. And it's not like people are doing it to be malicious, it's just seen as a fact, that the colour of your skin can tell your story before you even open your mouth. I'm fairly grateful for my complicated racial background, because it means people can't just look at me and place me. It may mean that people stare at me when I walk down the street, but I'd rather that than have them judge me.

The second part of that comment was just like NO WHAT STAHP CHILD. I can't quite tell her off though, because she doesn't realise just how painful she's being. Imagine finding a book, reading the first page and discovering that this might be the most amazing book that you have ever had the good fortune to pick up, and then having the book taken away and placed on a shelf, far above your reach. You manage to make a tower of chairs and things, and you climb precariously up to the top. In order to reach the book, you have to lean towards the shelf. Doing so will cause the tower to fall, therefore giving you only a split-second in which to grab the book from the shelf.

Right now is my split-second, and it's ending fast.

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I'm a complete waste of your time

I'm asleep before the first sheep

Until the last bleep of all time.

- Kaiser Chiefs 

Coloured Pants + Cricket Jumpers = Automatic Attractiveness

Life events!

They're usually pretty cool things. I haven't blogged in awhile, but recently I've experienced quite a few of them. Firstly, I graduated. I actually never thought I'd get here, but I've finally made it through the emotional and psychological minefield that is high school. Although I'd never want to do it again, Year 12 was actually pretty amazing. The majority of the memories I'll take from high school will be from Year 12. From all the trips to Rockdale and Hurstville, often having to sprint back to school to make it on time for our next class; from all the times we spent laughing hysterically because of whatever drugs they put in Maccas coke; and even those days where we'd be walking around like zombies due to exam/assessment-related all-nighters.

However, one of the greatest memories of Year 12 would have to be the very last one. There's something oddly special about one hundred and eighty girls (and their dates), dressed to the nines for their final school event, all gathered on the dance floor in lethal-looking heels of various sizes, attempting to do Gangnam Style. It was a truly magical night, and everyone looked fabulous. Oh, and the other special event of the night? I danced, quite a bit, willingly.

The Mane Six! (PS: This photo is framed and on the cabinet in my grandmother's house. Just so you know)

So you can imagine that I was pretty tired the next day. HAHAHA, NO. There was no time to be tired, what with my 25-hour international flight to catch! Destination: Cape Town, South Africa. I've flown between Sydney and Cape Town quite a few times before, but never alone, and it has never taken 25 hours before. One of the first things I learnt on my travels was that I am not very good at sitting still for a lengthy period of time. The second thing I learnt was that however extensive the entertainment system of a particular airline is, I will inevitably get bored of it. Thirdly, for future reference: never choose fish, noodles, or egg for an in-flight meal. Ever. And when the air hostess asks you what you would like to drink? Straight vodka. Every. Single. Time. Okay, so I might not have done the last one. Maybe I should have, I might have gotten a little more sleep...

Aside from the flight, Cape Town has been amazing. I keep saying that it's so beautiful here, but I don't really know why. Maybe it's the fact that it's so far away from home, far enough away so that only positive news can reach me. I haven't really done much, but I did spend a week in Parliament, job shadowing the people who produce the media that comes from/is about Parliament. Being at Parliament taught me a lot, not really about working with multimedia, although that was very interesting, but mostly about people. People are never what they seem. The guy that everyone thinks is so straight-laced is actually very much a child at heart; and the guy who is always laughing and making others smile, actually has an incredibly dark past. Everyone has a story, everyone has something that they've had to struggle with. How we overcome these struggles, rather than the struggles themselves, is what defines us.

When I first started planning this trip, I promised myself that it wouldn't be like all those "coming of age" stories (which are called bildungsromans, if anyone cares). You know the ones... Girl finishes high school/university, girl goes on trip to foreign country, stuff happens and she's changed forever. Maybe it's the experiences I've had here, or maybe I'm finally growing the fuck up, but I'm seeing the world in a different light. For the first time, the glass is half-full, instead of half-empty. I'm almost literally having a fairytale time here, and there will definitely be tears when my fairytale ends.

"Love is not a victory march, 

It's cold and it is broken 

Hallelujah"