You know it won't matter, she be passin' out.

Alonelonelyi'lloverdoseslowly.

This has been a terrible terrible year for me.
Just, let's please stick out the term. Alright? Good.

Harvest Moon.

Today I got directions to a place that I'll never visit. Figured out how to avoid toll on the 7 hour and 42 minute drive. There was advertising in the left hand column of hotels that I could stay in if I wished. Didn't know I'd been near there before until today. I went camping for 2 weeks when I was 13 years old. I went to my first concert, had my first boyfriend and went for my first long trip away from family when I was 13. I grew up a lot between 13 and 14. I think that may have been a little forced. I wish I could start it over.

But now that I'm 17, I'm planning how to get from here, a rain coated mountain, to the dusty highway intersection I can see in google maps. Trying to zoom in on what the sign says, trying to get my bearings. Where are you going exactly? Spose I'll never know. None of my business I guess. None of my business.

Tonight I've been looking at some wedding photos. And I'm glad they're happy. If I keep being glad for people, it might work out right?
All I want is to dance to harvest moon.
Neil Young.

Don't fret. It'll happen.
You're soo far ahead of yourself.

People pair up for the winter
Let go in the heat of the summer
Oh won't you be my winter lover?
My winter darling?

I dare you.
What will you find in the heat of the night?
What will you find in the deep of midwinter?

Mary had Three Kings.

There were three kings that came to visit Mary in her darkest/brightest hour. They gave up all their riches for what she brought to the world. No one remembered Mary's smile, or laugh, or her table-side opinions. They glorified her work and neglected her person. She was chosen initially for her dedication. She died without her work at her bedside. Her son was not their to relieve the pain. But she died with his love. And I guess that was enough for her.
But I wonder if it was worth the blisters on her feet. Worth the crusted dirt on her skin. Never feeling clean. The nomadity. The constant selflessness, working for such a large perspective of greater purpose.

I know I'm going to die a blasphemer. I'll question life until death has sown its seeds into my ribcage and the roots grow out, contorting my frame. There are some days that I long for consistancy. Days where I feel like I'm leading an army on my own morality, a Miltiades-like leader, a polemarch turning on its own men to gain safety. I know when I die, I'll confront St Peter, and Aristedes, and undergo the challenges that Ra endures during the nightly underworld visits and fail at every one. My heart will sink against the feather of truth. My karma will burst from the dam it's collected in for years.

I'll be happy, you know. Because I'll have realised. Found out, for certain, that I am really no one. No one at all.

Pretending

Sometimes I pretend that you're posting to me.
Sometimes I pretend that I've been asleep the whole time.
Sometimes I pretend I have deleted the photos off my computer, and that I have moved on. Sometimes I pretend that life is like a game. Like algebra. Solve for x. Solve for the y-intercept. Find the gradient. Climb it's slope. Is the horizon a straight line? Or is it more parabolic? If I were to buy it for $4000, what would this sunrise be in future value in 10 years time at a rate of 8.9% p.a.? Discussing with you the standard deviation of all of my worries, and trying to find the mean. So I can fix it all up from the middle.

Pythagoras was a bastard.
He took things too seriously.
If you took the squared height of myself and yourself, he is convinced that it would = x^2

But prove it.
Prove it Pythagoras.
Whingey little bitch.

A Little Hole.

I have a little hole in my heart. Where the emotion dribbles out from. The happiness radiates, and bubbles, and evaporates through my skin. A golden and mostly temporary glow. The anger swells but can't squeeze itself through the hole, so expands my heart and makes my chest hurt just that little bit. The sadness drips through the little hole, and is pooling in the bottom of my feet. It's filling me slowly. I need to be rung out. Like a sponge.

There's an empty space in my bed where you used to be.
You were the plug for the hole in my heart. When there wasn't any anger.
I crave for how small you made me feel.
Right now I feel so big. Weighted.

I feel ill.
Lonely.

:D

Has a date to the Year 12 formal.
Sally Gorman WINS.

Thought I'd broadcast my successes too.

New. Old.

New Haircut: Check.
New Room Design: Check.
New Diet: Check.
New Religious Views: Check.
New Dress: Check.
New Heels Ability: Check.
New Favourite Song: Check.
New Season: Check.
New TV Series: Check.
New Work Ethic: Check.

Old portraits hang on the walls.
Old songs collect dust in my cd player.
Old love.
Through Old eyes.
Old Old & tired eyes.

Dancing to Beyonce was not so rewarding.

And I've never thought me the jealous type. But I guess I was wrong; at least a little bit. My throat is sore because I sung my lungs out for you tonight. My heart sinks sometimes. I go pink. I try to talk.

But I just can't.
Can't Can't Can't.


Can't.
Shan't.
Won't.

I've Written A Set List

Designed especially for a person who isn't going to show.
So I'm going to play it to them anyway, and pretend if they were there.
I'll let the crowd know of their absence. So they can recognise. Pinpoint. Just what I'm going for.

Home!
Hallelujiah
Honey Give Me Your Heart
Charlie & James (He/She)
Who Goes There?

I always find a stage can feel really empty. So I try and fill it with what I play, yes? This may be a little tricky with a keyboard. Let's see how I go. :)

NERVOUS. nervous. nervous. NERVOUS. NERVOUS. nervous.

really, really quite nervous.

When Winter Wed The Spring

Their connection was always fleeting. Abrupt almost. It made Winter love her all the more. While the birds flew away from him, as if his silken hair or his stringy barren limbs were not enough for comfort, they flocked by the dozen to her colour. She smelt in the most particular way.
She made sure she'd visit and call.
Even though you couldn't assume that she'd be ontime.

He loved her. She connected to him.
And they lived side by side.

The other seasons weren't invited. They were jealous folk.

All the flowergirls arrived on time. The ring bearer showed his age by the circles of time in his trunk. Birds tipped their hats for the first time to snows tidings. The bears were confused to whether hibernation had ended or begun, so they watched animatedly from their caves and hidey holes.Chill and warmth shook hands, and the frost begged sunlights pardon as he shuffled icely t'ward his seat.

It was a grand old day that one. At the dawning of time.
I hope we celebrate it again some time. some place.

Where winter can lay fingers on the warmest of skins, and she'll get the greatest of goosebumps. Like it was always meant to be.

Besties

Reasons why I love my Bed:

-I've been sleeping with you for years.
-You're always there for me.
-If I leave for long periods of time, with no promise of when I'm coming back, or who I'm with, you are still waiting for me for when I get home.
-You're warm, and extra specially soft.
-I don't have to share you.


and;

I CAN JUMP UP AND DOWN ON YOU, AND YOU JUST WON'T DIE.

:D

Let X = (Proof 2005)

Let X equal the quantity of all quantities of X.
Let X equal the cold. It is cold in December. The months of cold equal November through February. There are four months of cold, and four of heat, leaving four months of indeterminate temperature.

In February it snows. In March the lake is a lake of ice. In September the students come back and the bookstores are full. Let X equal the month of full bookstores. The number of books approaches infinity as the number of months of cold approaches four.

I will never be as cold now as I will in the future. The future of cold is infinite. The future of heat is the future of cold. The bookstores are infinite and so are never full except in September...

I wish I was a mathematician.

Mainly because whenever you are writing an essay, or speaking a monologue, or voicing an opinion, or you try to give guidance.. you are talking shit. You are making stuff up. No one ACTUALLY cares.

With English, and literature, you aim to ask questions. And loosely answer them.
Mathematics and Science provide the answers. The solutions.
They leave you satisfied.

9x-7i<3(3x-7u)

^^
Discounting the use of imaginary numbers. (i)

The elephant in the room.

I really should get around to burning these letters.
They're making my room feel heavy.
And very very dated.

You know

If I were you, I'd do it so much better.
If I'd been given your opportunities, your looks and the attention you receive.. I wouldn't screw around. I wouldn't make others feel low about themselves. I wouldn't lead people on.

AND I'D WEAR A DAMN SIZE 8 DRESS.
AND BE ABLE TO WALK IN HEELS.
AND HAVE SHORT HAIR WITHOUT LOOKING LIKE A GIANT CIRCLE.
AND JUST.. FEEL FEMININE FOR A CHANGE.



oh wouldn't it be lovely.