Last night I went to the most wonderful gig in the most wonderful place on earth.





Steve Poltz and Gregory Page are two of the most exquisite musicians I’ve ever seen live. They share their souls through chords, their tears in stories, their lives become their art. I will never forget them, and indeed, endeavour to see them again soon. And again and again and again.

“This makes me happy to be alive. So much fun”
-Jakk

Clogged, Stuck, Jammed.
Such is the mind that one must inhabit.
Lost are the stories I once pondered.
Dulled is the memory of thought, feeling.
Dulled.
Eloquence seems to be absent;
Crudness of thought rears.
Rears its disgusting face.
Cliched, uninspired, unoriginal.
Gone.

I need to stop acting like a sinner;
And start acting like I'm saved.

I had too seriously rack my brains to remember my fathers name.
A psychiatrist would probably have a field day with me.
It's Tony btw.
Short for Anthony.

It's hard to channel your inner Bohemian when you work at a supermarket.

Shameful- Is it not?
Of course, Time is flying, as it has such a nasty habit of doing. Already, I'm halfway through Semester 1 of my Fine Arts degree... which is scary.
I have 4 things due this week... A seminar for photography, 2 Paintings for 2D art and a Raincoat Clothesline for 3D art. Have not even looked at the Photography one. Painted a fairly weak tribute to Wassily Kandinksy with 1 painting remaining and so far my raincoat is still just a raincoat.
I'm very broke. My own fault of course. I tend to squander money jsut for the sake of it. The toher day i was down to my last $15, didn't need anything at all, yet spent 2 hours looking in shops for something just because.
Terrible.
University is not all that its cracked up to be. You have to walk a million miles to get anywhere, the mosquitoes will eventually wipe out the entire student population and its quite hard to make genuine friendships with anyone. Painting is my least favourite class, the teachers are less then charming, have very set ideas about art and can ramble like nothing else. Those of us under the age of 25 are the minority and our class is full of 40 somethings living out the dream that is the Mid Life crisis. The mood is less then inspiring.
Fibres, my 3D art elective, is much the same.. 3 hours stretch out in a manner that seems to contradict my opening lines. Photography, though another lowlight at this point, I sense being that which I come to enjoy most. It's the one I feel most inspired for, which is remarkable as the teacher is perhaps the most bland gentleman you've ever met. I also resent this class as its the first one I have to do a speech on. For which I currently have no clue as to what to talk about for 6 or 7 minutes...
Of course or shall resolve itself, and I will live to fight (or is it die?) another day.
I think that if i get through this year, then I'll feel much more comfortable within a major... At the moment I jsut feel as if I'm doing everything at once and getting nothing out of it.

On a slightly more cheerful note... Potential Boyfriend Alert!
More details to come.

I do feel like embarking on some sort of creative writing...
Or at least reading. I resent the fact that I never read anymore.
I never do anything anymore.... Except go on Facebook...
This must change. One cannot be inspired by such social networking nonsense.

xo

-Waiting to be struck down with a unfathomable passion for what I do.
-Fretting.
-Lady Sovereign
-Lack of exercise & shotty diet
-Commuting
-Feeling bettered, inadequate
-My jeans
-Hot weather
-Ideas without effort
-My own laziness
-Being alone

"Get out,
Get out,
Get out"
The womans inner screamed.
"Leave me,
Leave me,
Leave me;
How I resent you;
Loathe you;
Regret you."
Plagued by flashbacks as she stared blankly at the figure.
He was no longer a human being.
To her, he was the embodiment of everything she hated about herself.
Memories;
Though distant, evoked emotion as if she was experiencing pain for the first time.
The touch of his skin on hers.
The way she kissed his neck;
While he stroked her hair.
So softly. So lovingly.
Memories;
of such tenderness;
such love;
broke her heart more then bitter words or cruel snipes.
For all had since became vile and repulsive echoes.
Anger clutched at her chest at the very sight of the man.
How could he...?
How could she...?

Sometimes, the woman could envision her screams escaping her.
A selfish grief that would finally spill out in an almighty howl.
Flooding any onlookers with her intense pain.
Such a notion;
Comforted her broken heart.

This morning I woke up to Bon Iver. Thus, I woke up extraordinarily happy.
The day had promise. I cooked my breakfast, wasn't to fussed when i dropped it all over my desk. I straightened my hair, and managed to will it not to frizz in the rain. I drove to work, enjoying my new found freedom and listening to Jose Gonzales in the rain. My shift was blissfully short. I was nice to everyone without caffeine supplements.

A slight damper on my day would be my mothers ill health... She got bitten by my cat pretty badly yesterday, so badly that she's been dropping in and out of hospital as it kept swelling. This afternoon she went in and they put her on an antibiotics drip. She's a bit shaken by it all. She has to go in again tomorrow for some more drip-time. There has been mention of her getting admitted if it gets worse, but hears hoping she heals up fine tonight. So yeah, slightly unnerving, but I have faith that she'll be fine.

Anyway, because Mother was unwell I went to church by myself and offered a young friend a lift home. It was great. I havn't talked to her properly about deep stuff for a considerably long time and it felt great to counsel each other and love and just generally understand stuff that each other have been going through. It's these heart to hearts that I seem to be missing out on lately. I've realised that the majority of my friends are happy go lucky kind of people, and although they're wonderful, it can be difficult to share details of a tough day.
I genuinly feel alot better today. The past few days I've been feeling kind of flat as I've distanced from God and allowed my soul to become corrupted by the past and regrets.
Also, as much as I love the rain, the lack of sunlight does generate ill feeling.

Tomorrow I'm having a scrubs marathon with Anne. I'm looking forward to it with bated breath. Finally, I can watch an entire episode without worrying about internet usage.

Also, tomorrow I register for tutorials and workshops. Here's hoping I get the classes I've penciled in. Because I have no back up plan.

Oh, and I WILL go to the gym tomorrow. I WILL I WILL I WILL.

I recently realised that I don't like other people fingernails. They creep me out. Mine I adore.

Got stuck in a very. very awkward conversation this evening with an ex of an ex. Made awkward because no one knew of my mutuality. I was a casual observer, as far as they were concerned. This is because my "ex" and I hardly held what could be described as a proper relationship. It was probably an open relationship at the most. If not a FWB situation. Either way, we pretty much just watched movies and hooked up. Yes. Skank of the year= Me.
Anyway, the conversation got awkward when they began to focus on the taste of said ex. One participant remarked that he seemed to only go for fat/chubby/unattractive girls. This is in fact true. He has very low standards. And is, as we speak, apparently at a 17 year olds bogan party hooking up with a nameless female who is of a curvier mould.
This incident caused me to feel great shame and regret. This incident with this person is begininng to tae its toll on me, no matter how long ago it occured. The number of flings and casual hook ups i hear of him having make my stomach churn. Disgusting.
BLERH.
Hooray for a plentiful supply of hot uni boys who will hopefully allow me to aim for a higher standard then previous mishaps.

I keep saying "Awkward Turtle" in my head. This has escalated from just saying "Awkward".

My valentines gift today was someone fixing up a spelling mistake in their msn name. I'd been nagging him for two days. It was a joyous triumph for spelling nerds everywhere.

I can drive. It is amazing. I sing in my car. I wink at hot p-platers. And I wait with bated breath for the heat to return so I can wind down my windows and blast my stereo.
Also, having a car is like having an extended handbag/bedroom/locker. Equals amazing space.
I fail at petrol. But take note, petrol station is definitely a possible pick up zone. Boys do like a damsel in distress. Even if that damsel is just me, holding a petrol bowser with great confusion.

I have $2 left in my bank account again. Mainly because of said petrol incident.

Uni nearly starts in a week. Oh dear. So very unprepared.

I am incredibly indecisive, luckily, my own inherent laziness causes me to adore sleep-in's nearly as much as the feeling of a crisp, morning breeze. Ah yes, the merits of dawn.
However, I find the night similarly invigorating. And often sneak out for "Spontaneous Walks". Just don't tell my mother. I'm not sure she'd approve.
However, one cannot have it all. It is not at all healthy or reasonable to stay up til 2am before waking to discover the lovely still of dawn.
Alas, perhaps one day I shall evolve into a being that does not recquire sleep.

And I don't really have a schedule yet. Freedom.

Nostalgia strikes, its bitter taste fresh, and insolent.
The past hardly seems distant. Memories have barely faded, voices can still be heard.
But something has occurred. A distinct change resounds in the hearts of all.
The familiar becomes strange- unrecognisable.
The smiles that used to so match my soul no longer fit. We no longer fit.
Memories stab at the heart. Painfully reminding with each beat that what has been has been and what has gone has gone.
Peculiar things begin to occur.
Aspects of one's personality become foreign, strange and seem blatantly incompatible.
A tear peaks, at a realisation.
I've lost you.
We've lost anything and everything that we ever held.
Shallowness, stupid, frivolous ideas.
Of course! How could such phantom feelings ever truly survive?
A lie? No. But certainly not true.
Sadness. Such sadness. As though a piece of my chest has been removed.

A sob. A heave.
A resolution.

i miss you.
i love you.
i want you.
i need you.
to touch you.
to feel you.
to kiss you.

who are you?

The reason why more boys should take up harmonising and choose to sport facial hair.

Dusk. Dawn. And the hours in between.
A crisp, awakening breeze.
Gardenias.
A friends adoration.
Memories of frivolity.
Frivolity itself.
Warm skin.
Laughing kisses.
Breathing.
Smiling.
Forgetting. Remembering.
Unexpected good will.
Light.
Fulfilled promises.
Thinking.

Love.

I recommend bacon with maple syrup to anyone.

Awkward, Artist, Ambivalent
Burbling, Bubbly, Boring
Cumbersome, Coffee, Christ
Determined, Detrimental, Daydreamer
Eccentric, Excited, Egocentric (slightly)
Full of it, Fatty, Fairy lights
Guarded, Games, Girly (lame)
Hyper, Hypocritical, Honoured
Interested, Impressed, Indebted
Jiggly, Joyful, Jigsaws
Kerfuffle, Kicking, Kisses
Loving, Loud, Lips
Mysterious, Men (real ones), Moran
Nit Picky, Notebooks, Nostalgic
Obsessive, Open, Old souls
Punchy, Persuasive, Past (the)
Quenching, Quiet, Questionable
Riveting, Running, Randoms
Selfish, Savouring, Souls
Touchy, Ticklish, Tempered
Unable, Unwilling, Unbelievable
Vexing, Varying, Validated
Whimsical, Worshipper, Wonder
Xylophone, Xmas.... Xyphote?
Yearning, Yaying, You
Zany, Zesty, Zangy

There was one, all encompassing reason why 'they' could not be together.
She, did not want him.
And he, did not want her.
Yet still, they tried.
Each craved that of their own agenda.
A touch, a casual kiss, shallow sex.
It was a lazy love affair.
As it was birthed out of selfish desires, with little or no regard for their fellow.
But this half thought union was deceitful by intention.
You see, as hard as they tried to keep their hearts distanced from one another, cruelly unattached, they could not.
The relationship, deprived of nurturing thought or kind intentions, died.
Each was left with a heart in tatters, shredded by that which never should have been.
It was found that they were unable to say what needed to be said.
And unwilling.

The aftermath was devastating;
Though they yearned for one another.
Neither could bring themselves to bridge the proverbial gap that lay between them.

And so they were left shells of people.
Another pair of broken hearts.
In a world akin to their condition.

Disappointment is my least favourite thing. Nothing wrenches my heart more, nothing else makes me cry so.
Broken expectations suck.

Because I honestly tried for 21....

1. My attitude towards the future at the moment seems to alter between painfully casual and incredibly anxious and overwhelmed; and as I write this my preferred is the latter. Perhaps it's because I've had an underwhelming day or I'm just hormonal, but I just feel annoyed and slightly angry at my own indecisiveness. For instance, 2 days ago (or I believe it was 2) I had totally dismissed the idea of doing art at uni, but today I have no clue. Tomorrow I shall want to do art again, another day i shall want to do something perverse like social science and it is most likely that the day after that I shall deport myself from reality and decide to sit on a beach somewhere for the rest of my life. In short, I don't really give a damn at the moment. And that annoys the shit out of me.
That being said. I will probably end up as a fine art student. I always go back to the original plan.
2. I rarely finish cups of tea or coffee. As in never. I dislike dregs.
3. My twat of an ex recently broke up with his latest girlfriend. I know its terribly wrong of me, but it made me just a little bit happy. I mean, I have no interest in getting back with him or whatever, but its some weird sort of jealousy. Bizarre? Yes. Selfish? Most definitely. Perhaps its because she always idolised him, describing him as some sweet, nurturing gem of a man, when in actual fact he was a boy with a cock for a brain.
4. I have this insane idea that getting a car will make my life instantly wonderful. It should be noted that I also felt this way about getting a job, having a boyfriend, joining the gym and leaving school. All of which did little to gratify my life. So although having a car shall be liberating, it shall not be the be all and end all of my desires.
5.As each day passes, the more I begin to realise how much God is to me, and how much more he needs to be in my life. I've grown so very sick and tired of half assed christians who so often wander from the path and never take the time to truly nurtue a relationship with Jesus Christ. That being said, I have often fallen into such a dogged trap, but am currently doing my best to redeem myself.
6. An unusual predicament of thought I usually find myself in is a nagging discernment between "me" and "them". I often segregate myself quite viscously from those I would consider as higher beings. I seem to have this belief that that will never be me. It was a train of thought that followed me all through high school, I could never quite envision myself being a year older, but it always seemed to eventuate. The more I think about it, the more I find it strange, this barrier I put between myself and those who are either of higher authority, or older or just more prosperous then myself. I try to combat such thoughts, because they are quite negative. I also do a similar thing with upcoming events, something within my psyche tells me that such events shall never come to fruition. "That's not really going to happen" "That sort of thing doesn't happen to you." etc. etc.
7. I've gotten so unfit of late. It's really gross, and only adds to my lethargy. Latin dancing classes are a highlight though.
8. I accidently took a 30 minute tea break at work the other day. My supervisor was less then impressed. I apologised profusely, but still endured a lecture about christmas time rushes etc. There were no customers about at time of course, making her monologue quite undramatic. Why was my tea break so elongated? I was lost in Atonement.
9. I fantasise about my Latin dance teacher noticing my salsa skills, and becoming so impressed that he whisks me out the door before we elope to Mexico to do some serious dancing.
10. I desperately need to rekindle my passion for art.
11. I have an undying hatred for food scraps. They disgust me. Repulse me. Turn my stomach. I hate gooey bits, dry bits, cold bits, crusty bits, any bits. I therefore have an intense, physical reaction when asked to do the dishes. Because the worst food scraps are those that have been secretly soaking for days, hiding under a floating spoon in a bowl. Oh and don't get me started on bins...



That was liberating. Truly.