I am covered in skin.

I miss my three best friends from '06.

Sat, 06 Oct 2007 09:37:39 GMT

So very much :(

FRIENDS ONLY from now on.

Tue, 03 Apr 2007 23:37:01 GMT

(few of my prev entries were only readable by lj friends anyway.)

comment to be added even though I'll accept basically anyone.

Mon, 02 Apr 2007 07:01:10 GMT

Hi. I want to start afresh. Shave everything off and peel the layers into the trash. Lose my i.d and forget my pin number. Miss the bus and skip class. Visit Lacuna and become nobody. Forget my name and my postal address. Empty my pockets and brain into the gutter. Empty my lungs into a gutter. Stop caring and learn how to feel again. Erase the records and file for a divorce with my past-self. Fuck the settlement, and fuck custody. I don't want anything. I want a blank slate, an empty head and an unsowed field. Tell the farmer to come back later, and plz leave the window open when you feed the birds before work. I wont jump out, I promise. I just want to throw everything that I regret out onto the sidewalk, so that others can learn from them instead. Cos I'm done with it all. I just want the reset button. Kthnkx.

hei mimzo: why don't the buildings cry? lul.

Thu, 29 Mar 2007 13:00:38 GMT

probz should have made these smaller but....

thennnnnnn i procrastinated some more;;;;

p.s:

Sun, 25 Mar 2007 18:54:39 GMT

i love emily staff ^-^
and drugs in vegas.

pic cred: her.

more on this (and giant printers/palm trees) later, when i get my photos developed ^_-

pic cred: rob.

lolol.

but seriously.... why are his pants like that? :S

human narratives.

Tue, 20 Mar 2007 06:41:43 GMT

why is it that when something happens to us, we always feel the need to tell somebody or something? no matter how lame, or stupid, or annoying, or just plain boring the story is; we continue to pass them on. other people's narratives have always interested me, but i still don't understand why i feel the need to keep telling my own.

last night;

Sun, 18 Mar 2007 01:51:26 GMT

edit(19/03)-
quality: human contact. kisses on the forehead/cheek from my friends. jane screaming and bursting out crying because her boyfriend drove round a roundabout three times.
gay: the party. my house being locked. sleeping on the ground. being attacked by a possum. waking up my mother to let me inside then sleeping on the armchair because dad had stolen my bed.

The Story of Coffin Joe?

Fri, 09 Mar 2007 08:28:08 GMT

"His philosophy explains that children are perfect (presumably because they are free of moral bounds and conflict) and that adulthood taints their affinity with nature - religion is evil as it blinkers people's outlooks and free will."

Trainspotting:

Sat, 03 Mar 2007 07:42:50 GMT

It seemed he had no theory with which to explain a moment like this, nor did l. Our only response was to keep on going and fuck everything.
Pile misery upon misery. Heap it up on a spoon and dissolve it with a drop of bile.
Then squirt it into a stinking, purulent vein and do it all over again.
Keep on going, getting up, going out, robbing, stealing, fucking people over.
Propelling ourselves with longing towards the day it would all go wrong.

Ambrose's definitions:

Thu, 22 Feb 2007 20:29:18 GMT

Brain: an apparatus with which we think we think.

Accuse: To affirm another's guilt or unworth; most commonly as a justification of ourselves for having wronged them.

Corporation: An ingenious device for obtaining individual profit without individual responsibility.

Diplomacy: The patriotic art of lying for one's country.

Egoist: A person of low taste, more interested in themselves than in me.

Happiness: An agreeable sensation arising from contemplating the misery of another.

Vote: The instrument and symbol of a free man's power to make a fool of himself and a wreck of his country.

Love: A temporary insanity cureable either by marriage or by removal of the influences under which he incurred the disorder. It is sometimes fatal, but more frequently to the physician than the patient.

i love a cynic.
p.s: today i hope to work up the courage to ask for my schoolies' money back.

skin and bones.

Tue, 20 Feb 2007 06:37:24 GMT

"let's just forget: everything said, everything we did, best friends, better-half's, goodbyes, the other night when we realized we're falling out of love. the last thing i want to be is overly dramatic. i just think it's best because you can't miss what you forget. so let's just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant."

my cats keep killing things,
i only lasted three days without my computer,
and i'm sick of people telling me that i need to make decisions.
the prettiest girl at the party, pities those girls who aren't so pretty... but dress nice.
she'll go home alone by choice.
or choose one of the boys to lay down with.
if she's lonely.
or horny.
or human....

This part of my life is called... Anxiety.

Sat, 17 Feb 2007 11:47:26 GMT

_i didn't turn on my computer for six whole days.

no, thankYOU mimzo ^-^

Sun, 11 Feb 2007 08:32:44 GMT

hahahaha nonsense:

Wed, 07 Feb 2007 07:18:34 GMT

Abbey blinked and swam in his veins. a triple bypass for her routine of diet pills and sleep. she is the enigma bordering on patio landings. "dream harder" said The Catacomb Puppet, and Abbey blinked. fingernails to teeth like milk to babes, and Abbey blinks. to die in a ventriloquist's world with siliconed masks on our faces. God barked up a silent street. sweaty palms lose the birthplace of her voice and He pads quietly on the juices of her ghost. Abbey blinks, and her pupils fall into the bleak horizon of her eyes. He dissolved in her hips, and Abbey blinked. He too will become the february linen. "i'd rather be the linen one hundred times over" said God. Television lost twenty pounds in three weeks that one night when Abbey and He met at the disjunction of twelve minutes and fifteen seconds. love trickles down swelling sunlight. his gaping mouth made way for the mildly entertained Zephyr. Abbey blinked and consumed it all in one mechanic thud of closing lids. stockholm lashes lock down a perplexing room with italic bars. Zepher said that they should leave now. Abbey blinked. her eyes tore away as He ripped the paper in two. He laughed at the grammatical intersection and chose to paragraph the world. Abbey blinked and drowned in his nectar. The Catacomb Puppet reached into his moustache of wavering memories, and Abbey blinks. people drew a procession of porcelain and shattered. ware made of this. snowy august and Zepher filled God's lungs. Abbey blinked. He drew a sword from punctuation and housed it in her blinking ceramic ventricle. blinking and beating, blinking and beating. "draw conclusions from your soul's palet" the ventriloquists mouthed. the streets are deaf. Abbey blinked, as her ventriloquist squelched between the sheets with God's Zepher. the toaster ate the bread without discussion and He refused to remove the lampshade from his wounds. Abbey didn't blink. the sheep adjusted their ties and perpetuated in the business meetings globally. statistics rose and fell and slammed the door behind them. God spoke softly and proclaimed the foppery of the world. "Abbys are eternally drowning in the flock. Kiss your briefcases goodbye and rail the trainlobby."

"your name is Abbey," she said.

Passing Afternoon.

Sat, 03 Feb 2007 07:23:05 GMT

There are things that drift away, like our endless numbered days.
Autumn blew the quilt right off the perfect bed she made.

about:blank_

Wed, 31 Jan 2007 20:01:08 GMT

i have no fucking goals for my future.

Wed, 31 Jan 2007 08:47:59 GMT

this part of THEIR life is called... Everyday.

Tue, 30 Jan 2007 12:30:36 GMT

sometimes you hear of, or experience, the part of humanity we like to forget exists. the part that we briefly see on the five o'clock news, or in the papers, or hear of as we pass the mothers talking in the condiment isle of the local supermarket. working at doveton primary school these past two days has reminded me that this part of humanity is greater than we often come to realise. drug fucked and drunk parents walking into the front office, demanding to see children. a mother enters: "i need to talk to the principal, my husband molested our daughter on the holidays". immigrants on a protection visa turned away because they cannot supply the $2000 fee that our government ridiculously demands they pay for schooling in our country. children being thrown from family to family.... "do you have his birth certificate? - no but his mother can give it to me, i mean; she gave me him". children being degraded by their parents. children being degraded. children being degraded. these parents don't even care for themselves. a mother explains how her child is still deciding on which family to become adopted into. she leaves and the office staff discuss how she is unfit to house him in the meantime, as she is completely drug dependant. at the front desk; a girl explains about her abusive and mostly drunk parents and how only now, that her father has turned his abuse to her younger sister, has she decided to stop hurting herself, and to be strong for her sister's sake. are these kids even given a chance? they show such strength of character that i could not begin to comprehend. i can only but blink and breathe. gratitude for our own lives is seldomn acknowledged. a girl arrives at the office and i don't know what to do, so we talk. she is 20. she spends the majority of her time helping kids at the local youth center, or mowing lawns for money to support herself, her children, and her sisters family. she has come to pay for her niece's school books because they cannot afford the $50. i am judging these people and i have absolutely NO right to. at the conference i heard stories of hardship and fear and death and i sat there and blinked and breathed. the families of the children at doveton primary school are in such a state that the school has become forced to provide breakfast for them every morning. the prep teachers are required to do house calls to check the conditions of every home. and i am a blinking breathing enigma. i care about the world, yet do nothing. i'm moved to tears, yet remain indifferent. i'm a fucking selfish retard.

XD

Wed, 24 Jan 2007 10:56:35 GMT

attn lj stalkers:

Wed, 24 Jan 2007 10:49:00 GMT

real journal > livejournal.
so don't expect too many entries these days.

this has got to die.

Sat, 20 Jan 2007 16:07:14 GMT

5:05.

goodbye for another minimum two days.

we were taught how to read and write. how to analyse poetry, equate formulas and earn money.

Sat, 20 Jan 2007 14:34:22 GMT

this part of my life is called... Homework.

Sat, 20 Jan 2007 13:57:41 GMT

returned to the net.

Sat, 20 Jan 2007 13:47:43 GMT

even though it was only two days without it, it was still really great. and the alone time has really pulled me back together. if from now on i only go on the net at max every two days i would be very happy. i've decided to invest more time in other endeavours such as my handwritten journal, reading, doing homework, and other nerd past times...

Carlos Drummond de Andrade.

Wed, 17 Jan 2007 11:28:31 GMT

translation:

what can a creature do,
other than between each other, love?
to love and forget,
love and love poorly,
love, unlove, love?
always, and glassy-eyed even, love?

what, i ask, can a loving being do
alone, in universal rotation, but
go with the flow, and love?
love what sea bring to the beach
what it buries and what in sea breeze
is salt, or love precision, or simply desire?

love solemnly desert palms,
what is expectant devotion or adoration
and love the inhospitable, the coarse,
a flowerless vase, an iron floor,
an stoped chest, a street seen in a dream, a bird of prey.

this is our destiny : unbounded love,
dispersed among worthless treacherous things,
giving in completely to complete ingratitude,
and in the empty shell of love
the fearful, patiente, search of more and more love.
love our own lack of love and in our burning desire
love the implicit water, the tacit kiss and the infitnit thirst.