Yeah, I hear you, I'm listening with awe. But it doesn't mean I give two shits or maybe even three. Sometimes, I couldn't even care.
time stopped.
You're pulling, rushing. This feeling's amazin' baby I can't get back. I remember it well, you know me - I have this gnack. The gnack to hold you tight and don't let go. Please don't fight me baby, you make me happy as so. My ships are sailing, when I miss you - I feel I'm failing. Why aren't you here tonight? Why aren't you here tonight? Nothing is taking me down. I remember it well, there was wet in your hair, I was stood in the stairs and time stopped moving. Come over, you're lost,
dive into moss, I hope that my sanity covers the cost. To remove the stain of my love.
- Brianna Daws, improvision is a beautiful thing.
dive into moss, I hope that my sanity covers the cost. To remove the stain of my love.
- Brianna Daws, improvision is a beautiful thing.
doves cry
Dig if you will the picture, of you and I engaged in a kiss. The sweat of your body covers me. Can you my darling, can you picture this? Dream if you can a courtyard, an ocean of violets in bloom. Animals strike curious poses, they feel the heat. The heat between me and you. How can you just leave me standing? Alone in a world that's so cold? Maybe I'm just too demanding, maybe I'm just like my father too bold. Maybe you're just like my mother, she's never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like, when doves cry.
KFC
I never want to go to the state of Kentucky, according to my previous resources at Kentucky Fried Chicken - KFC, the chicken there isn't the greatest.
weekend fun.
This weekend - best ever, not that Goodlife was some teeny underage event it was actually pretty sweet. But I only spent my few hours there. I then made an appearance to sweet Alexander's - Lexie's humble aboad for his birthday where all my old friend's - or never the less, regular aquaintances. But I saw my Bradley, my Bradley Weaver, and I had given him the biggest bear hug he and I would ever experience. Then gave the bong some fun, and left still with our diginity hanging out under our arm pits. We talked, ate and laughed and we sucked up eachothers awesomeness leaving one another with nothing but everything.
But you know what, none of that matters because I am so happy.
sammy june
Hi there. Mr. Chloe is sitting McBehind me, she's Red Eateraroostering. I need some taste of Sub's coffee. I'm having a joyous time: including Nataliburger, Lazy Steph and ChloRug.
TIE. DYE. TIE DYE?
Hey fellow - readers? Like anyone reads my blog anyway. I tie dyed a pillow case the other day, unraveled it today and OH BOY, it turned out fantastic. I'll post a picture up of it if I get time. That just made me a whole lot happier. YES.
yellow
Your skin, oh yeah your skin and bones. Turn into something beautiful, do you know for you i bleed myself dry. For you i bleed myself dry.
White. and. Nerdy.
That's me, sitting at home in dad's old shirt. Messy hair - not done and some old op shop sunglasses to go.
I'm so happy.
life
'My life fulfilled' - bullshit. No one knows what else exists, you're just happy - nothing more.
doves
Today.
My life just got a whole lot better, not that you care anyway - to presume, you don't care about anything it's trendy to not care these days.
It's pretty much the worst trend I, on behalf of our generation, have ever experienced. Yeah nice paisley for the individuals, long hair for the metal heads and chunky shoes for the skate rats. But not caring? Ridiculously unbelievable.
Hearing these raindrops whilst lying in bed, discreetly acknowledging the elegance in the raindrops' collision onto my verandah roof - A clear definition of amazing.
My life just got a whole lot better, not that you care anyway - to presume, you don't care about anything it's trendy to not care these days.
It's pretty much the worst trend I, on behalf of our generation, have ever experienced. Yeah nice paisley for the individuals, long hair for the metal heads and chunky shoes for the skate rats. But not caring? Ridiculously unbelievable.
Hearing these raindrops whilst lying in bed, discreetly acknowledging the elegance in the raindrops' collision onto my verandah roof - A clear definition of amazing.
Touch if you will my stomach,
Feel how it trembles inside.
You've got the butterflies all tied up,
Don't make me chase you.
Even doves have pride.
Feel how it trembles inside.
You've got the butterflies all tied up,
Don't make me chase you.
Even doves have pride.
Gonna be alonee
The best people in the world, on the screen. Hope you know.
Ebony, Natalia, Stephanie and Anthony - 10:48PM, My house.
Illusion
That is what I hate about the human race - we all make it excuses, we fake it. Excuses: No one really knows anymore, we pretty much change definitions of words just because we have no one else to blame. The world just a big illusion. The only time that you can see reality is when your going to die. We noticed how we say, 'no one does this, no one does that' but if we said, 'people do this' we would have to say, 'we do this'. This is what I fucking hate.
Swallows me
Oh that feelin's rising...
rising over me
Oh, that song is singin'
Singin' in to me.
Over everything,
I used to be.
rising over me
Oh, that song is singin'
Singin' in to me.
Over everything,
I used to be.
Infamousy: Future in the Present
When im famous, they'd ask me with great interest, 'what made you strive for success?' I'd reply with purity and reassuarance, 'I was once a teenager you know, the average adolescent. You could easily say I was a fuck up, and wasn't going to head anywhere in the right lane. My mates, my best mates kick started me in a forgiving way and then, we became the world's greatest. They're the people I'd like to express gratitude emmensly, because honestly: No one is the world's greatest. No body shares the same world, so how could one person in particular be the world's greatest? It might be in fact that someone is your world's greatest and honestly. It would be your friends, not your collegues, they're just fighting for what you have, not your parents or guardians, they're just playing a roll - doing their job. But your friends - Boy, they chose to be a helping hand. By them to consider you as mates, friends - whatever, means they're more than happy to assist on guiding you. Friends are beneficial - you and I would be no where without them.'
As I would be giving connective eye contact to those that matter.
As I would be giving connective eye contact to those that matter.
You're on a road, but you've gotten no destination.
In the early hours; wrap your hands around the one you love, the one you care for like no other. Don't let it crash just yet, feel the moment: Savour it. Fight your fears and hold your tears.
---
I went to the Keilor Gift with my favourite three girlies in the world: Natalia, Luzinda and Stephy. Luzinda's friend Holly was there too but I had only met her then.
It was a grand night.
Samuel has my charger, Natalia has my sim card and no wonder my parents get stuck into me for being unorganised.
This hurts guys, embrace the pain.
H a p p y - Five letters that for me, means the complete world.
I'll teach you how, the traffic is stuck and you're not moving anywhere. I'll lend you a hand given out of grace.
---
I went to the Keilor Gift with my favourite three girlies in the world: Natalia, Luzinda and Stephy. Luzinda's friend Holly was there too but I had only met her then.
It was a grand night.
Samuel has my charger, Natalia has my sim card and no wonder my parents get stuck into me for being unorganised.
This hurts guys, embrace the pain.
H a p p y - Five letters that for me, means the complete world.
I'll teach you how, the traffic is stuck and you're not moving anywhere. I'll lend you a hand given out of grace.
Writer
"When I was fifteen, I said to my mother: 'I've discovered my vocation. I want to be a writer.'
'My dear,' she replied sadly, 'your father is an engineer. He's a logical, reasonable man with a very clear vision of the world. Do you actually know what it means to be a writer?'
'Being someone who writes books.'
'Your Uncle Haroldo, who is a doctor, also writes books and has even published some. If you study engineering you can always write in your spare time.'
'No, Mama. I want to be a writer, not an engineer who writes books.'
'But have you ever met a writer? Have you ever seen a writer?'
'Never. Only in photographs.'
'So, how can you possibly want to be a writer if you don't really know what it means?'
In order to answer my mother's question, I decided to do some research. This is what I learnt about what being a writer meant, one that I wanted to persue.
(a) A writer always wears glasses and never combs his hair. Half the time he feels angry about everything and the other half depressed. He spends most of his life in bars, arguing with other dishevelled, bespectacled writer. He says very 'deep' things. He always has amazing ideas for the plot of his next novel, and hates the one he has just published.
(b) A writer has a duty and an obligation never to be understood by his own generation; convinced, as he is, that he has been born into an age of mediocrity, he believes that being understood would mean losing his chance of ever being a genius. A writer revises and rewrites each sentence many times. The vocabulary of the average man is made up of 3,000 words; a real writer never uses any of these, because there are another 189,000 in the dictionary, and he is not the average man.
(c) Only other writes can understand what a writer is trying to ssay Even so, he secretly hates all other writers.
(d) A writer understands about things with alarming names, like semiotics, epistmology, neoconcretism.
'My dear,' she replied sadly, 'your father is an engineer. He's a logical, reasonable man with a very clear vision of the world. Do you actually know what it means to be a writer?'
'Being someone who writes books.'
'Your Uncle Haroldo, who is a doctor, also writes books and has even published some. If you study engineering you can always write in your spare time.'
'No, Mama. I want to be a writer, not an engineer who writes books.'
'But have you ever met a writer? Have you ever seen a writer?'
'Never. Only in photographs.'
'So, how can you possibly want to be a writer if you don't really know what it means?'
In order to answer my mother's question, I decided to do some research. This is what I learnt about what being a writer meant, one that I wanted to persue.
(a) A writer always wears glasses and never combs his hair. Half the time he feels angry about everything and the other half depressed. He spends most of his life in bars, arguing with other dishevelled, bespectacled writer. He says very 'deep' things. He always has amazing ideas for the plot of his next novel, and hates the one he has just published.
(b) A writer has a duty and an obligation never to be understood by his own generation; convinced, as he is, that he has been born into an age of mediocrity, he believes that being understood would mean losing his chance of ever being a genius. A writer revises and rewrites each sentence many times. The vocabulary of the average man is made up of 3,000 words; a real writer never uses any of these, because there are another 189,000 in the dictionary, and he is not the average man.
(c) Only other writes can understand what a writer is trying to ssay Even so, he secretly hates all other writers.
(d) A writer understands about things with alarming names, like semiotics, epistmology, neoconcretism.
sentaaaa-mentalllll
I like looking in my bag, searching for something small and finding it covered in sand from the beach. I like finding old items that are worth zero money but are of great sentimental value. I have this beer bottle in my cupboard right, there's still little drips of beer inside it and every time I look at it, wow. Hey, I like to organising cupboards, A-Z, colour coded or in a pretty pattern.
I try so hard. Outcome - nothing.
Ha, every things made for nothing. But if nothing is zero. Nothing, is everything.
Shit. Evening audience x
I try so hard. Outcome - nothing.
Ha, every things made for nothing. But if nothing is zero. Nothing, is everything.
Shit. Evening audience x
Jokers to the right.
Sitting here.
On the loungeroom floor, filthy actually. Stephanie, to the left of me in a 'royal' red bath towel. With the thought repeatedly flowing through my head, 'put some clothes on, Stephanie. Put some clothes on, Stephanie'. Wow, I looked at 1:00:00AM precisely. Ha dead, good night.
On the loungeroom floor, filthy actually. Stephanie, to the left of me in a 'royal' red bath towel. With the thought repeatedly flowing through my head, 'put some clothes on, Stephanie. Put some clothes on, Stephanie'. Wow, I looked at 1:00:00AM precisely. Ha dead, good night.
Phranang Cave Beach & Railay, Thailand
It has got to be my favourite realistic place upon this Earth. Immense levels of utter chill. You walk along the beach which is might I say, the footpath in Melbourne terms. You have the occasional "thought session" with yourself where you appreciate your discoveries and grasp tightly onto them so they don't float away. I mean, you can't hold everything in your brain. Totally off track: I remember I used to ask my papa bear, "Dad, who is the smartest man in the world?" He'd reply, "I am, Bru". I was in clear astonishment to as I had known the smartest man in the world my whole life. Then I grew up, becoming a naive little girl that actually thought Blink 182 was so rocken and no band in the world could over come their beloved music. Oh boy, was I wrong... I reminisce these questioning memories, particularly my papa's, 'til this day, I do think he is the smartest man in the world, and boy do I fucking hate it! See, what the fuck? Myself rambling on like so, I guess Melbourne is a great place. Phranang Cave Beach, Railay, Ao Nang whatever ! They're simply the greatest.
Friday night, grounding.
Today is one of those days where you have three pieces of toast on a Friday night for dinner loathed in margarine. You don't know whether to choose that musky peanut butter that has been sitting in the pantry for months or the new bought vegemite? So you use both and chuck in an extra. One Vegemite, the second one you spread with that strange iSnack 2.0 which is familiar as the new Vegemite, the other classic, peanut butter. When you're finished your toast you look around your pantry for more food, there's nothing to eat at all besides that awful, repulsive bird food made for humans. Then you've given up looking for food and wonder off to the loungeroom, where that dramatic television show is screening; Home & Away. You easily sit down with great attitude because what could be worse? Home and Away on television on a Friday night at 10:30pm. It's always like, 'you have got to be joking'. Grab the remote, thank God dad bought you Foxtel and you change it to something more interesting and relative. The show finishes and you're half asleep because you couldn't wait to find out what Blair Waldorf was plotting, although you'll never find out that episode. You figure it's time to fall asleep on the couch upstairs because this Friday night is unworthy to you.
Children of Our Generation
Our emotion state is ecstacy.
Our nourishment of choice is love.
Our addicition of choice is technology.
Our religion of choice is music.
Our currency of choice is knowledge.
Our politics of choice is none.
Our society of choice is utopian.
You may hate us.
You may dismiss us.
You may misunderstand us.
You may be unaware that we exist.
We can only hope you do not care to judge us because we would never judge you.
We are not criminals.
We are not disillusioned.
We are not binge-drinking drug addicts.
We are not naive children.
We are one massive, global tribal village that transcendes man-made law, physical geography and time itself.
Define this, bitch.
Grounded: Where children are punished for their particular actions, to isolate them from socializing and others. - Method formulated by Strauss & Corbin. That's my research for you kiddo's getting keen because in fact, I am grounded. Seven words directed to Strauss and Corbin, "I curse the day you were born".
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