Ah...the joys of being quoted.

Xin, Derrick here, couldn't help following the link in your post. another warning, slight metaphysic ahead.

anyway i'll try to cover what i haven't yet in my comment on your spaces blog. start off with a quote.

"the only difference between an enlightened man and an unenlightened one is that one knows it, while the other does not."

no philosophy is flawed. they simply exist. if you can discard all notions of flaw and flawlessness, that is good, because you are what you are. if you cannot, and remain concerned about whether you are following a "correct" philosophy, that is also good, because you are still what you are. we cannot judge a philosopher to be "better" than a hedonist, because the existence of both is essential for the existence of the universe. you could use the idea of "God's plan" as a metaphor- the current existence is perfect, because it is the only possible existence.

personally i feel that there is nothing more to know other than what i already know. my existence in the universe serves to bring about the continuation of the universe. if i did not exist- but i cannot not exist, because i exist. since i am a part of a perfect system, i am perfect. i know that i cannot know everything, and that knowledge is enough.

and if people choose not to get around that concept, so let them be. if they are the happier for it, then good for them.

i'm not saying that all moral judgements are irrelevant- i am not exactly a nihilist. i only believe that everything that happens happens because it must happen, and thus this existence is perfect. it doesn't make me happy, but i am glad in knowing that i am not happy because i was meant to be sad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Obviously, that comment wasn't for me. Yay for people with multiple blogs assuming that -others- keep multiple blogs. A little common sense please, when something from ANOTHER BLOG is quoted WITH A LINK to that blog, isn't it -generally- safe to assume that the OTHER BLOG is by, shock horror, SOMEONE ELSE?!

Nevar! who ever heard of such a thing? Preposterous!

So, be a doll Xin dear, and pass this on to him hmm? Cheers.

Patriotism

I came from the dream time, from the dusty red soil plains,
I am the ancient heart – the keeper of the flame,
I stood upon the rocky shore, I watched the tall ships come,
For forty thousand years I'd been the first Australian.

We are one but we are many
And from all the lands on earth we come,
we share a dream,
And sing with one voice,
I am, you are, we are Australian.

I came upon the prison ship bound down by iron chains
I cleared the land, endured the lash and waited for the rains.
I'm a settler, I'm a farmer's wife on a dry and barren run
A convict then a free man, I became Australian.

I'm the daughter of a digger who sought the mother lode
The girl became a woman on the long and dusty road
I'm a child of the depression, I saw the good times come
I'm a bushy, I'm a battler, I am Australian.

We are one but we are many
And from all the lands on earth we come,
we share a dream,
And sing with one voice,
I am, you are, we are Australian.

I'm a teller of stories, I'm a singer of songs
I am Albert Namatjira, and I paint the ghostly gums
I am Clancy on his horse, I'm Ned Kelly on the run
I'm the one who waltzed Matilda, I am Australian.

I'm the hot wind from the desert, I'm the black soil of the plains
I'm the mountains and the valleys, I'm the drought and flooding rains
I am the rock, I am the sky, the rivers when they run
The spirit of this great land, I am Australian.

We are one but we are many
And from all the lands on earth we come,
we share a dream,
And sing with one voice,
I am, you are, we are Australian.





The lyrics, and then the song, of what I consider to be -the- australian song. I love it, I honestly think it should be our national anthem, rather than what is, look it up if you want to, it has something like five stanza's and each one is as boring as the one before, if not more so. I'm as patriotic as they come, but seriously, our anthem sucks. 'Advance Australia Fair' ugh, waaay too british. No offence to any Brits that read my blog, I don't recall if there are any though...

Anyways, I've been meaning to make this post for a long time now, ever since my graduation night actually (17th October) as it was one of the songs sung there, everytime I hear it, I get a tingle in my skin and I sigh. I think, -yes- this is Australia, not whatever image the rest of the world has of us. We're not convicts, we're not tail-end extentions of the British Empire, and no matter how much our (old) PM was kissing Bush's arse, we're not bloody yanks! We are AUSTRALIAN and the rest of the world can go get stood on, we're here, and we're here to stay.

I mean, yeah, sure, we can take a joke as well as anyone, as far as I'm concerned, its fair game if I complain about something about Australia, it's my right as I live here, it's my country. Sure, we've got a population density that is virtually non-existent, sure we've got only 20 million people or so living here, London Town alone has more than that, but we're mostly desert, so if any more people come here we're gonna start dying of DEHYDRATION. No offence Xin, I love you dearly, but sometimes the Asian idea that we've got all this useless space and we're just being mean by preventing immigrants -really- annoys me. Seriously, I want to get some of those boat people and dump them in the unpopulated middle of Australia to show them why the bloody hell we can't fit any more in! Deserts aren't really prime living areas y'know.

Back on track, you Americans'll know what I mean really when I talk about patriotism, its something that's kinda lacking, in the majority, here. A friend of mine decided to be funny one night, he was american, and started crapping on about my country, saying that we didn't have proper 'music' but listened to digeredoo's and stuff like that. Sure, the first five minutes I could laugh along with him and all, but after an hour I was starting to get -seriously- annoyed. So much so that I ended up saying 'if you say one more thing to degrade my country, you are going to be limping home, -if- I decide to let you walk. I don't crap on your country, you don't crap on mine. You feel me?' And considering that I can pull out this awesome glare and intimidation trick (he was about half a foot taller than me) he backed off rather swiftly. After I'd calmed down I explained it in short, simple sentences that he'd understand. You mock my country and I feel about the same amount of rage that America felt when the Twin Towers went down.

He apologised and we moved on. Let that be a warning to you, -all- of you, do NOT degrade Australia, don't insult it, don't call it a pile of shit, a prison, anything like that because you're liable to get a few broken teeth, if you're lucky. Now, I'm not a violent person, I'm not actively agressive, but push the right buttons...

So yeah. I love Australia, complete with the poxy weather, the deserts, the scrub, the lack of people, the isolation, the friendly nature, and I am proud to stand up tall, strut and say I am AUSTRALIAN and the rest of you just -wish- you were.

We are

Sometimes, there are moments in your life when you have to just sit down, take a breather, relax, and literally smell the roses. Go outside, right now, sit down in the shade of some tree and smell the life around you, smell the grass, the tree you sit below, or, if you live in a city, sit in your garden, out in your back yard, gaze up at the sky and watch the clouds drift by. Are they white, fluffy things, like cottonballs stuck up on a blue poster? Or are they streaks like combed wool? Is there a storm brewing, grey ominous things grumbling across the sky, or are there no clouds at all? Is the sky a warm blue, or a cold one? Does the grass smell fresh, or sour? Can you hear the run of traffic or of birds in the distance? Inhale slowly, can you smell the sea, or the dust of the country, or even the dampness of fertile earth?

Did you do that? Are you calmer now? Did the eternal cycle, the patience, of nature fill you? No? Take your time, our lives are full of stresses, full of struggle, so much so that we have to count every single minute as it slips away from us, as though that moment in time was too precious to let pass unremarked upon. Have you ever stood at the window and let the hours pass you by as you do nothing more than merely watch the world turn, the wind rustle the leaves and shadows make their stately march along the ground? No?

I think, that humans make to much of their life, everyone wants to leave their mark on the world, have they ever considered that with so many marks left, soon there’ll be no world left to mark? Immortality, be it by the written word, memory, or the afterlife according to the various religions, might not be such a great aim to shoot for. What assurance is there, that there is life after death? Why is there the assurance that you, or I, will go to Heaven, Hell, or even be reincarnated, but there is not that same universal assurance that my cat has something to look forward to, that this is all the life they get?

Why is it that the Buddhists revere life so much that they refuse to take the life of even a bug, and eat naught but plants, berries and seeds…when the wolf, the fox, the tiger, take the meat they need? Should not they revere life in –all- it’s forms? Are the predators considered evil then, for eating the flesh of another creature, how can they be when it is but their nature? And humans, are omnivores, they eat both plants –and- meat, so by refusing to eat meat, which would go against the reverence all life has, they are denying part of themselves, aren’t they? And, even the eating of plants, requires them to die, for their potential to regrow be snuffed out forever, such is the consequences of life, such is what occurs no matter how much respect you pile upon the apple you are eating….that is six or more potential trees you are destroying, because you have to eat.

Why must everything be measured, weighed, assessed as good or bad, why cannot it simply be? What is done, made, is of nothing more than matter. Alcohol, drugs, gold; these are but things, drugs are ‘bad’, alcohol is ‘evil’, gold is the root of all greed…but they are mere things, neither good nor bad, they just are.

Just as people are neither good, nor bad, they just are. Sure, some are more disliked than others, but that doesn’t change that they are. Everyone just is, everyone is the same, it’s the choices we make that differ us, but even then, it is all we are. Not good, not bad, just there.

Re: Your Brains/skullcrusher mountain

You know, I think I love Jonathan Coulton's songs....they're awesome. And these clips are pretty good too.

Summation of whatever the day before christmas. Whoo. Hip hip yarrah and all that.

The Christmas Spirit

Be the best you can be all year long,
behave yourself as a good child
and never, ever, ever to nothing wrong,
on christmas day you can go wild.

Bring the gifts, the presents, the food,
a family, your friends, all that gear
open a bottle and toss back the booze,
to celebrate the loss of another year.


.....yeah, I'm not into this whole, Christmas spirit thing. For me, it's far to commercialised. The metre for measuring happiness is an artificial tree bedecked in shiny things in a living room, underneath which there needs to be a mountain and a half of gifts.

Sorry, just a bit....yeah. Things aren't going very well for me at the moment, honestly.

The Future Soon...

Awesome flick. Awesome song actually, but yeah.

Let's see, i am at my dads at the moment, yay for semi constant internet access...for two weeks. *sighs* I'm honestly sick of the world, and everything within it. It's like...i've reached the end of my patience for anything. For people, for the inanities and banalities of life. Although that song is neat, The Future Soon.... brings a note of hope to things, doesn't it?

I'm in an odd mood today, at the moment, melancholy. I want to play my harp, yet I do not have one. I want to play my flute, yet I do not have one, I want to play a piano, yet, again, i do not have one. I should not know how to play -any- of these, yet I do. I have had no lessons in music, ever, yet ...I want to fill the air with the notes of my creation, fill my ears with the pure melody that I have within and....I cannot.

It is very disheartening.

Sail beyond.

Sail upon the midnight sky,
walk the waters of eternity,
swim amongst the sands of time
and there is where you'll find me.

Encased within an isle of water,
buried beneath a heart of fire
burning in the land of death,
throbbing with the blaze of desire.

Sing a song of purity
with the blackest of hearts,
tell a tale of solemnity
with laughter from the start.

Find me, free me, ask me a boon;
tell me, taunt me, give me your sword;
hate me, love me, burn from within--
only then will I give you my word.

Tell you the secrets you crave,
the knowledge I have seen,
what you want, what you need;
where you have been.

Every boon must have a price,
and every price must be paid
for what is lost should be replaced,
else nothing but sorrow will be gained.

So wary, ever wary,
ever cautious must you be,
if you seek the land of death
to ask a boon of me.


Written shortly after watching pirates of the carribean three -- awesome movie, a must see I reckon, solely for the marriage scene. They're on this ship, fighting, Will asks Elizabeth to marry him.

"I don't think now's the time."

"Now may be the ONLY time." Clash, clang, sword fighting fishery sailors.

"So what's your answer? Will you marry me?" <-- still will.

"Barbosa!" <-- Elizabeth

"What?"

"Marry us!"

"I'm a little BUSY." See, Barbosa is fighting off the Flying Dutchman's fishy crew as well.

"NOW." Don't argue with elizabeth.

Barbosa jumps up on the bit of wood before the wheel and says "Dearly beloved, we're gathere here --" Clash, sword slice, Will and Elizabeth fight hand in hand, twirling around each other and stuff "Will, do you take her--"

"I, will turner, take Elizabeth swan to be my wife."

More fighting.

"Elizabeth, do you..." more fighting by barbosa

"I Elizabeth Swan, take you to be my husband in sickness and in health" sword swing fight fight "Health being the less likely--" more fighting.

"I captain barbosa now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the--" he has to jump down and fight some more "You may kiss...." more fighting. "Just kiss!"



I love it. <3

Nosediving computers, yay!

Okay peoples, here's a rundown as to why I have been conspicuously absent from you all, alas.

Trust me, it has been as horrid for me as it no doubt has been for you, at least, I like to think that it has been horrid. What happened was I was home alone late at night and the cat came in. It was 9.30pm and I'm like ack! cat she has to be inside!!! so I set my laptop aside, jump up to catch her. The phone cord leading from the wall jack to my laptop somehow managed to get wraped around my third toe, consequently causing me to trip, the phone cord to jerk out of the plug that was in my laptop, leaving the plug inside -and- encouraging my laptop to take flying lessons.

And the cat bolted outside so I'm like, SHIT, this is -seriously- not my day.

I turn around and look at my now wonderfully expensive paperweight, the nosedive from the couch to the floor means that it has issues with booting up, as in, it doesn't. And if it -does- manage to stop being a paperweight and load up as a computer, we have all of...10 minutes or so before it decides nooo, too much effort to be a computer and...bzzt, crashed and shut down and I'm rather frustrated.

So yes, we have issues with things today. I'm working my little butt off to save up for a new laptop, I have one deposited on and the xmas stuff all bought so that's well and good, so yeah. I ought to be on around xmas, as I'm going up to my dad's then and he has a computer that works (yay). So that's from the 20th of Dec til the 2nd of Januarary, or for you americans, 19th evening till New Years day. You spastic people.

Good news, my bf from melbourne has been up for the past week, which is great, except it's really hard to argue with someone about going somewhere, or staying someplace when they tend to pick you up. It kinda negates your argument. Annoyingly.

Ah well, that's the update of my rather sad and crappy little life, so yeah... missing you all and lots of love from yours truely, tata!

Saturday

I have reached the conclusion, which will most likely be highly offensive to the majority who read my blog, but it's there all the same, is that men are complete and utter idiots. Seriously so.

What caused this realisation? I hate to steriotype, but an 'ex'-muslim pakistani. Things didn't start out to well from the beginning for the simple fact that he can't quite get his head around that in Australia, things are done DIFFERENTLY. For one, women are NOT lesser beings and that any arrogant toerag that thinks that way needs to have his gonads removed, PAINFULLY.

As you can tell, I am in a very -not- good mood.

I met Ali, (the toerag) on saturday as a favour to him, he'd been bugging me for about a month straight to meet him and it was -really- getting on my nerves. So I met him, and he promptly started behaving how a boyfriend would, y'know, insisting on holding hands, wanting to hug, (first it was a kiss, but he dropped that for...fifteen minutes....when I threatened to rearrange his face) and I was like...hell no, dude, we are MEETING not going on a date, FUCK OFF. But, alas, he exhibited a spectacular display in density and somehow missed that little ...hint.

So we got lost for a bit, and then went to a timezone, that was fine. I've still got the timezone card. He of course, got bored with whatever game he COULDN'T beat me at, (he was yet to find one that he could) and kept on dragging me away from them when I was still having my turn which was -really- pissing me off. When he wanted to leave, I reminded him that he has some picture things on his card and whatnot, and he used it as an excuse to fucking kiss me. Which got him an elbow in the ribs and a glare. We went for a wander, back to St Georges Terrace, for those that know their way around perth, and I found Borders (Thanks Xin!!!), it was wonderful....an absolutely MASSIVE bookstore. He of course, had no interest whatso ever in it, and dragged me out again to go to a -really- crappy cinema, no, -theatre- to watch an actually pretty good movie. The Game Plan with The Rock in it. I loved it, he hated it because it wasn't porn.

And, because he wasn't interested in it, he wanted to use the film as an excuse to grope me. BAD idea, -very- bad idea. He almost got a black eye because it was such a bad idea. Of course, he sullked after that. I didn't really care, I was enjoying the movie.

After the movie, I poofled on him, as in, walked swiftly towards a security guard (I'd gotten lost) and asked where Borders was. This was after the...fourth time he'd told me that he was going home. I mean dude, when you SAY you are going to do something, bloody well do it! Don't fuck around.

Gah. So, I got a book, which was good, he called me asking where I was so I brought him into borders. I went looking for another book while he tried to pull the whole boyfriend trick again, and as I was walking away from him, looking at books the idiot grabbed my arms, spun me around and then retained grip on one of my arms. Rather than answering to his demand of 'why don't you want to talk to me?!' I simply said 'Remove your hand from my arm.' Pulling out that lethal aura people that know how to kill tend to carry. That made him let go rather quickly. He started sulking again, argued with me, saying 'I want another kiss, if you don't kiss me then you'll never see me again.' I was like, yay! but said and waved 'Byyyyyee.' So he supposedly 'deleted' my number and stormed out.

Finally. Right?

Wrong.

But between the wrong, and the right, I met a guy on the train. Pretty cute actually, and friendly and ahem...a naturalist. That got me a bit, O_o for a while before my 'meh' attitude arrived, it's no big. To each their own. We got talking, for about....an hour and a half, seriously, and I was enjoying myself, it was a great end to an otherwise pointless day.

And then, my bus wouldn't be arriving until 7.58pm, it was half five and I'm like...I am so NOT waiting for it. "Muuuuuuum, can you come pick me up pleeeeeease?" and we got home, yay!

Unfortunately, the wrong rolls around about 7.30pm. Dickhead texted me apologising, kinda, and demanding to know what my problem was. "I am not attracted to you." He was/is butt ugly, like, seriously. His attitude didn't help matters either. His response? 'There must be something seriously wrong with me that a girl i'm 5 times more attractive than doesn't find me hot'. But I didnt' reply, i'd already told him that he wasn't getting any more texts or -anything- from me. Bye. He didn't believe me.

So now, two days later, he has called me 12 times, left I don't know how many texts, and he STILL doesn't get the fact that I do NOT want to talk to him. The latest he's sent me? 'come on angela, text me or call me, you know you want to talk to me and I ....kinda want to talk to you too.' ....

....

-_- Now you understand exactly -why- I have reached the conclusion that men are complete and utter idiots?

Oh, and as a warning note, if any of -you- (barring Xin who already knows me) behave in any way, shape, manner or form like THIS jerkoff, I -will- rip your balls off and stuff them down your throat so that you can learn some fucking manners.

Okay, rant over.

Had a Human Biol exam today, which I think I did pretty well in. I wrote for the entirety of the three hours (had multiple choice and short answer done by an hour, so that's like...two hours for two essays. I wrote -heaps-. It was fun. ish.) I'm pretty sure I've got a pretty good mark for it too. The only exam remaining is...English lit. Yay. -_- Ugh. I am so, seriously, OVER people.

Spastic dream...seriously so, even for me.

Okay, first up, exams, no biggie. I LOVE TEE exams. Why you ask? Because if you finish EARLY, they LET YOU GO EARLY. No sitting there, twiddling your thumbs bored stupid!! It's wonderful.

Oh, and guess what...It's the 5th of November today and, I am going to horribly embarass Xin and...

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY BBBBBBBBIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, your one hundred and two, you look like a monkey, aaaaaaaand you smell like one too!

jejejeje, keep smiling honey. ^_~

Aanyways, my spastic dream... (I've got a few hours to kill before the end of school hehe)

I'm having issues in trying to get this to make sense, seriously, that's how spastic it is.

Okay, there's this boy, Tommy, or whatever, I'll just call him Tommy for now, whose parents got a recent windfall. Or something, all I know is that he's a kid that was semi-poor, not born into the money that was needed to go to this camp.

It starts at a table, where all the precious little darlings are gathered around and the carer is saying 'and this is Joanne, but she doesn't eat egg, lettuce...' and so on, listing each child and what they did and didn't eat, and eventually got to Tommy. 'And he's really good, he eats liver, black pudding...' and so on, and Tommy's ducked under the table, the pair either side look down and he says 'dont let her make me eat soup!' so one of the precious little darlings pipes up and says with that sneer (no offence) the rich manage to manufacture "I know what would be -wonderful- for dinner, braised chicken and onion -soup-." And a smug smirk as the carer agrees.

Weeks pass, and Tommy is evidently hating the camp, as he tends to wander off on his own alot, and by the lake, or rather, in it, is a was sunken car (the water's receeded) and that's where he stays alot, as the seats have dried out so it's not squelchy. One day, while he goes down there, he comes across a black dog, a doberman crossed with a rotweiler I guess, savage but gentle. So now Tommy has a friend yay!

One night, a few days after that, a feral, and really -ugly- cat sneaks into his room. Wakes him with a loud yeowl and then gives a purring meow, a massive rat crawls out of a hole in the wall and walks up to the cat, which opens its mouth -really- widely, so that the mouth forms an oval, not a normal open cat mouth, really freakylooking, and the rat crawls in, eaten. Another meow and Tommy goes back to sleep as the cat stalks away.

A few weeks pass, and others find out about this cat, they come to capture it. Tommy with the dog at his side are part of the group, and the cat comes, meows hisses and all that, hurts one of the men, and ends up being held by someone powerful (for some reason it's God but I have no idea why, so lets just skip that part...) and scolded, saying that they misused their power so now that power will go to another more deserving while they suffer in insanity, dealing with the repercussions of that misuse. The only way they get solace from the insanity is in the arms of the one they hurt the most.

Go metaphores....and hell. Spastic dream. Really spastic.

Well, now I can sort of make sense of it...kinda.

Aaaanyways, You can't go off at me for not saying happy birthday Xin because I DIIIIID and I'll say it again,

HAPPY BIRTHDAAY!

Jejejeje. You know you love me.

Last week of school.

I have reached the somewhat stunning conclusion, that the last week of your year twelve school year, is as much of a waste of time as the last day of term, or the year, for the rest of your years, if not more so. This entire week, (from tuesday) I have accomplished....

Four books read -- Novels, not comic strips, I -am- a bookworm remember

Got the results of my exams -- I did fail math, 47.5% -_- but who needs math anyways?

Aaand....that's it. Pretty much. Oh, and I've got some stuff due for art and design, as in, my interrelationships (As in, who inspired me) and it's due in..five minutes so, waste of time so bleh. I don't care. I am over school.

I wake up in the morning, wishing I could sleep longer and think -- Is there a point for me going to school today? -- I run through what is occuring for that day and reach the conclusion -- no -- but I have to go anyways, elsewise they may get poxy and prevent me from graduating, which would be a royal pain in the rump.

Oh, and because I am bored at the moment -- a lack of emails tend to do that to you -- and randomishly plegh. Thankyou Link, Xin, whatever you want to call yourself :P For the comment two posts ago, I just ah...wanted to see if I could capture the emotions, the feel of what I experience nigh on every night. It is very dull, let me tell you, to have to conciously consider and force yourself to go to sleep. But thankyou. *blushes*

What else.... oh! Silver has managed to find my inactive-hardly-ever-used-at-all myspace. In the year that I made it (june last) I have logged in... four times. Whoo, that's like, once every three months. Maybe. I'm sure he feels very proud of himself (or so I gathered from the tone of the comment that I got :P) and the amount of times people randomly find my myspace when I never pointed them to it is ah...a lil freaky. I mean, a whole....four people found it and know me well enough to go, shock horror! It's mien!!! ...mine*

Oh well, let us move on to happier concerns... such as....

Hmm, wait, I know I have some! Honest...

Ah-hahahaha! I told you! For the past four days I have been having a movie marathon from sheer boredome. Every day when I get home from school, (eventually) i watch a rented movie! Yay, Bridge to Terabithia; Awesome movie, good graphics and imagination. It's about, basically, two kids that find life at school rather dull, and on exploring a forest near their homes (they're neighbours) they discover an 'enchanted' rope, and the rope is the only way to get to Terabithia.

A 'for real' game that was rather clever.

Blades of Glory; Another awesome movie, a must see, trust me, if you like ice skating that is. It's about these two pro skaters who tie for the gold medal in the winter olympics and brawl over it, resulting in a lifetime ban from the mens single skating... horror for them! But, a loophole found by a stalker means that they can enter (stalker of the pretty boy) the pairs competitions...except, ahem, neither male can find a female...and end up being paired with each other.

Hilarious, showing some 'new' moves that are now classics, and a very good take on the, I think, personality and ego clashing of two males.

Spider man 3; Good, decent graphics, spidey gets a swagger! mmm....sorry, he's nice eye-candy when he's swaggering...elsewise Toby Miguire (who plays pidey) is just...meh, so what? Even if he -does- have a good body, or so the costume leads us to believe. Some crying moments, some moments of 'God you are an IDIOT!' and...yeah. I'd recommend you see this one too, if you haven't already that is.

Um... Oh! Eragon; Brilliant graphics! Absolutely sensational, they manage to remove that distinction between the real and the fantasy with Saphira, you could genuinely believe that you could walk outside and see creatures like her soaring the skies, that's how good the graphics and cinematography was! The book was brilliant, is brilliant, and, as I haven't read the book recently enough to know the storyline intimately, the movie does it justice, more than. A stunning work of shooting, I think, and again, if you haven't seen it, go for it! There's fire, and fighting, and a bad guy and a really ugly looking evil badguy destroyed, love, caring, heroics and 'oh no, they cant die!!!' moments and on the edge of your seat anticipation of -- what's going to happen!?--

I, personally, loved it. In case you cant tell :P Of course, having read Eldest as well, I know certain things that inhindsight, make me admire a certain character alot more...ironically. Ah well, I cannot wait until the next movie comes out...or the next BOOK even. Argh. I hate waiting. It's a stupid idea, having to wait for stuff.

And that's all I have to say today, Until next time folks and remember, keep smiling!!

I paaaaassed!!!!

I don't care about the rest of my exams, (even though the only one I'm waiting for is my math at this point) I PASSED HISTORY!! I always fail history exams, always always always, and this one I passed! By four percent, but a pass is still a pass!!

Lit; 56%

Human biol; 59%

History; 54% <-- woooot!

Math; Fail, highest mark is 62% but bleh, still waiting for it to be returned.

and thus ends the short update, and I'm poofling!

Sometimes...

You know that period in your night, when you’re neither awake nor asleep, you’re just hovering in this nebulous black cloud of creeping unconsiousness, perhaps you’re watching the black tide advance, your eyes wide open, staring at your darkened ceiling, watching the blackness seep in over the corners of your eyes, seeping in closer, enveloping more and more of that grey patch of your ceiling until you see nothing but darkness? Or perhaps, once the illusion was complete, you’d blink, and the black tide would retreat, and you’d return to staring at your ceiling, waiting, watching, knowing that it would return, that it will return and overtake your vision, but until then, you’re just going to lie there, unsleeping, unseeing, just staring at your darkened ceiling…

You know when you are so exhausted that when you lie down to go to sleep, you can’t? Your mind is just too keyed up with the task of keeping you awake when your body is screaming out for sleep, screaming itself hoarse with exhaustion, but you cannot sleep just yet, there is something you absolutely –have- to do, and so when you can actually go to sleep, after ignoring your body’s cries, the pleas for rest steadfastly silenced by your mind, you find that you can’t find that off switch? It’s as though, for a few, long minutes, perhaps even hours, your mind has forgotten how to relax, how to shut down and rest, how to sleep, after you have been ignoring the sleep, the creeping, insidious need that makes what you see waver, flickering lights in your eyes, the ground rock beneath you and the air seem like thick, sludgy molasses, until breathing through your exhausted lungs seems like way too much effort?

You know when you wake up after a long nights dreaming, your body rested but your mind ready for more sleep, but you have to go through the day with this energetic body, this normal, functioning of impulses but with a mind that is half asleep from exhaustion? When your arms feel like lead and you can’t concentrate on the words right before your face, as they blurr, shift, and dance across the paper, forming lines like soldier ants that scatter beyond your comprehension when you try to pick them up?

Sometimes, I wish I didn’t feel like that. Sometimes, I wish that I might get a normal nights sleep, one without dreams, one which I didn’t go to bed exhausted before, and one that I could sleep through. One where I didn’t watch the creeping tide of unconsiousness like some enemy that had to be fended off, where my mind didn’t have to search for that off switch, search to find the right situations in which to relax, the need to hunt through mounds and mounds of paperwork to find the written warrant saying ‘yes, you can sleep now’. Wouldn’t that be nice, to be able to wake refreshed and ready to face the new day, eager for it even, and to then, go to bed not exhausted, but pleasantly tired, where, if I pushed I could go further, but I don’t have to push, so I wont, and then, to just…sleep? To rest without dreams, without worry, without having to be wary of sleep and what it might hold…(like vampiric Velcro felt strips…a dream two nights ago, long story, and freaky as all get out too, but that’s another tale..)

Wouldn’t you like that too? To be able to just… but then, the majority of you won’t have any idea what I’m talking about, right?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PS, graduating THIS sunday, the 21st of October heeee!!!!!one!!!!11!!!!eleven!!!

Okay, I'm over it now. I'm good.

I am...

I am a ghost. A spectre, a shadow. My existance is but a fleeting thing, it is only the absence of another embodiement. My considerations contain no weight, my interpretations have no meaning, my life has no journey to follow.

I am but half of what I was, and even less than that half am I now. I do not consider my consiousness an existence, merely a status of fact, a status that can and will be nullified. When, you ask? I do not know. All I know is that I cannot endure as I am.

I step through the shadows, through the memories of what people once had, I stand in their absence. I stand in the memory of what was, but no longer recalled; I am forgotten.

What has brought this about? The knowledge that I am, and always will be, completely worthless. And don't go throwing the blame on my mother either, she and I are getting along well enough now, it is her boyfriend that I am having problems with.

I don't mind being accused of things that I've actually -done-, like leaving the occasional cheese wrapper on the bench and whatnot. I know my room is a mess -- one of his main complaints that he, and I quote 'don't want to go in there for fear of something biting me' <-- a="" accuses="" alone="" am="" and="" aparantly="" as="" being="" br="" cat="" cruel="" do="" down="" five="" for="" he="" her="" him="" i="" in="" just="" kitten="" leave="" locked="" locking="" looked="" me="" meaning="" minutes="" mother="" my="" of="" offer="" on="" out="" patiently="" room="" s="" sat="" she="" since="" sitting="" tactile="" taking="" that="" the="" to="" tv="" up="" was="" watched="" while="" you="" your="">
....

Okay, great. Accusing a girl that sees a TV show in it's ENTIRETY that -she- chose to watch maybe once a MONTH, of sitting down and watching the news that more often than not she has no interest in!?

I have had enough. I was -this- close to bringing it to blows with him, and I'm not a violent person, not in that manner! I was -so- angry that I actually growled. Well, snarled would be a better word I suppose, like a dog would, the rumble in the throat and everything. I haven't been so bloody close to hitting someone since I was twelve. I almost couldn't control it, I had my hands fisted so tightly that I was actually hurting myself. So while mother tried to calm him down, I sat on my bed, tears streaming down my face as I snarled -- primal, primitive sound of pure rage -- I don't get angry, I get furious when people royally piss me off.

Only one other person annoyed me to that same extent, and he freaked out and ran when my eye's changed. They're usually blue, a nice, bright blue with green around the iris (a little bit, and it's only if you look closely that you can see it) but when i'm that pissed, they go purple. The angry, roiling purple of a thundercloud, complete with the swirling. That's what others have told me, I don't recall what actually happened, only that he ended up with a massive bruise and a fractured rib or three.

*sighs*

Come new years, I am out of here. I'll have to be anyways, since the majority of the uni campases are in Joondalup. About two hours drive from where I currently am.

I wonder...

I wonder what it would be like, to fall off a cliff. To just step off the edge of the world and fall, fall through the air until the water hits you, slaps you and then cradles you as you sink down, down through the darkness of eternity.

I wonder if I would pause, hesitate at that final step and look behind me, look behind me for someone that I know who will not be there. But of course, they wouldn't be there, I would be alone. And so, with a final, soft smile for the beauty of the world marred and destoryed by mankinds greed, I would take that final, little step, and fall.

The wind flowing through my hair as I fell, tangling and knotting it, plucking at my clothes like so many invisible fingers, ruffling, flapping the fabric as the water drew closer, closer, the waves lashing at the rocks beneath me, the rocks holding up the world until it reached up and hit me, slapped me and stung my flesh in reprimand, but forgave and then accepted me into its soft, icy, yet soothing hold. The air jarred from my lungs as I'd start to sink, bubbles of life drifting up through to the surface, a surface steadily vanishing from me as I sunk, down, down through the water until the filtered blue-green light of the sun was replaced by darkness, replaced by the silence, the perfect solitude, the serene blackness of infinity. The beautiful calm, the emotionless patience of eternity.

I wonder what it would be like... I wonder if I would let the water hold me, forgive me for my wrongs and then swallow me into its unknown, or would it reject me, as has everything else, and leave me, bloated and malformed on some rocky beach somewhere, to be rejected again by those that found me.


I wonder...

Nightmare.

I don't have nightmares often, more often than not they're dreams. I barely even have bad dreams, it just doesn't work. Especially when you tend to take charge and turn the terrifying into the ridiculous. Unfortunately I couldn't do that in this nightmare, I swear I have never been so glad to wake up on a school day.



Here we go, what happened.



Me and this group of scientists researching the paranormal were in this old house, there were numerous reports of screaming heard within when it was empty and the like. It started off pretty low key, I mean, the odd shimmer in the air, a glowing spark by a door, that sort of thing. Little stuff that got us really excited. It's like -yes- finally we'll have proof of the occult! And then things started to go downhill.



It turns out that the family that lived there, were all horrid mean people, you know, the self-righteous arrogant toerags that occasionally crop up? Yeah, the parents were like that. The father was very strict and overbearing and the mother was selfabsorbed, selfish, and bitchy. There was a daughter of about 18 and a son of about six or so. First all we saw was the daughter as she went about her day, cleaning, washing, cooking and so on, it was like we weren't there. And then she started noticing us -- not good as she got rather aggro when she saw us. Screetching and everything, and that woke up the rest of the family. They possessed my partners, and they went mad, thinking that they really -were- the ghosts.



Something happened with my vision when they were possessed, and I got double vision, I saw the ghost possessing them -and- them. It was very weird. We couldn't do anything, but the daughter possessed me and took me through the fateful night when the entire family died, or what was left of it. Since the previous winter the six year old son got locked outside in the snow, the mother saw it standing there, knocking on the front door (there was glass in the door) and pleading to come in, but she only smiled, returned to the letters she was reading before walking away. Person number one dead, as they froze to death in the middle of summer (winter) when the son died.



The father tended to beat both the daughter and his wife, so i was trying to escape a beating and the mother (I was like, possessed remember?) and then the ghost goes insane and kills the mother and the father before I eject her from my body. She screams at me and we fight. I pin her against the wall (really odd, having your hand around a throat you can't see) when she started -laughing- at me! This maniacal laughter that was -really- irritating. I look behind me and there's this shadow of the father bearing down on me, I squeak, release her, duck his attack and go to the front door, it's locked, but I've got my keys, yay! So I unlock the door, get out, expecting to have some cold hand pull me back or something nasty to happen, but I get out, shut the door and start running. About halfway down the driveway I turn and look back and freak, its my fathers house, with the tree's either side and everything, and there -she- is gloating.

She sends this ghost wolf after me -- now don't get me wrong, I love wolves, normally, I always think they're beautiful creatures, even when snarling and everything, they're gorgeous! -- but not this one, it was like, black, midnight black, all teeth and red eyes and snarl and me, being the sane, normal person that I am, I ran from this six foot thing...that's at the shoulder people. You'd have run too.

So I'm belting down the road, the bitchumen hurting my bare feet, getting winded, my legs complaining, and it's just loping along behind me. (In hindsight, I don't think I had to have run...but yeah) I ran about 500m down the road to where there were two driveways either side of each other, saw a heap of cars go into one driveway and then vanish, like, pass through the gate and then poofle. Alarm bells started ringing there, and I was standing in the middle of the road for about five minutes (uneaten) before moving off the road. I looked behind me and the wolf had shrunk down from that monster thing to a more normal size, it flopped down in the path as I backed away, asking it to go and leave me be. It's response? "You are my Mother, I could never hurt you." Before getting up and loping down the road and vanishing.

Then a crippled cousin of mine -- or perhaps she was an elder sister-- who'd broken her knee and was on crutches was going towards the driveway where the cars had vanished into and I went over to her and said "Wait no! you don't want to go in there, come one, we have to go over here..." And so on, getting her out of there and then my grandma and eight year old sister were on the -other- side of the road going to a birthday party. (I don't have any sisters or grandmothers at all) So I dragged my elder sister to the middle of the road and left her dazedly standing there before fetching the other pair of relatives. Then i got a phone call, it was the ghost saying that my father had just called and was wondering if my number was 0407 105 991 or something else but I had no signel so I couldn't call my father and and and....

And then I woke up. I saw the sunlight on my window, breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. I swear, I have never, ever, been so glad to wake up 10 minutes before my alarm on a school day.

Monday night.

What do you do on a monday night with no homework but a buttload of study to do? Get a text from work and rock up. -_-

Although, it was an easy night, monday nights always are, since it's the start of the week and all that. I had my drive thru jobs done by 8pm, and I didn't finish until 10. So, I spent the next hour and a half (got sent home early, 9.30) flipping boxes for paperstock. Fun fun. One box of regular chip boxes, two boxes of dinner boxes later...time to go home yay. Go the hour and a half of makework.

They seriously -didn't- need me, I mean, come -on- people, I remember working mondays during which there were only -five- people on. INCLUDING the kitchen hand. One in box, one in drive pack, one on burgers and one on lobby, and the fifth? The kitchen hand. Oh and then there's the MOD of course. So having one, two, three, four, five, six...six no, seven people on, me, burgers, drive pack, two on lobby and two kitchen hands for a MONDAY night, where we're lucky to get that many on a FRIDAY night, one of the busiest nights we have...Oh for pete's sake.

End of that rant.

You may all bow and go 'ooooh' in awe at my awesome 75% on a history cognitive test. That's right, bow down, bow before my glory! Yes. Gloating over. I'll crawl back into my box now.

Oh look, isn't this nice, two posts in ONE week, my, I think I might be spoiling myself...or you, whatever. SOMEONE is getting spoiled.

I am not like you.

I am not like you,
you who walk in the day,
you who live, love, breathe,
hope and of course, pray.

I am not like you,
you who walk in the night,
you who hate, hurt, loathe,
bleed, and of course, fight.

I am not like you,
those who walk the street,
steadily walking down a path,
stones steadily passing beneath your feet.

I do not walk a path,
nor hope, hate, love, loathe,
live, bleed, fight nor pray.

I stand at the crossroads,
watching as you pass,
watching where your road leads,
where you stumble, where you laugh.

I mark the divergance,
I watch what you do,
I note the change;
I am not like you.

~~~~~~~

A curious little thing I came up with yesterday, you know when you have a poem just waiting to be written? Or maybe you don't, but it was like that for me, it was wonderful, happens so rarely now, unfortunately.

What else shall I tell? Oh yes, I had a human biol exam this week, well, last week, I got the results this week, it had two parts, theory and practical, 63% of the theory (ahem, too many questions attempted, sadly) 78% on the practical though! and as each was worth 5% that lifted my average mark from 54% to 62%!!! And I'm like, -score-. Fairly chuffed there.

I'm doing pretty well in lit too, I think, I hope. I've got to check what my score there is as well too, I said as much to mother dearest, and you know what her reply was? 'It doesn't matter, do better'. To that i'm like...oh thanks. Great. What's the point of doing 'better' if you don't know if the 'better' actually does anything.

So, while on some aspects my relationship with my mother has gotten better, in others it hasn't.

Take not five minutes ago for example, she yelled at me because I didn't go and wash the seven year olds hair, when I wasn't sure when she'd start her shower or anything like that, I mean, -i- am not the one that has to take care of her and all that. Fair enough she asked me, but when I told her that I wasn't sure, and what with th epropensity she (the kid) has for wasting time, who knows when it would have happened?

And then, because she growls at me, and growls at her boyfriend, I"m the badguy. I can understand that, honestly. But her argument, that because she's working tonight she shoudn't have to do anything, doesn't wash. I mean, if you made school into a 'job', i've got two, and on my weekend, the only day when I'm -not- working, ie, sunday, I shouldn't have to do anything, or rather, have time to relax adequately, which she seems bent on removing from me. *sighs*

Ah well, life will go on, as it always does.

Why do I bother?

Honestly, some days -- most days -- I don't know why I bother trying. Trying what you ask? Trying anything. Take for example yesterday; I get the results of an essay I'd written -- 70% -- which was great for me, considering that before then I was generally only just scraping a pass. Consequently, I was in a good mood, a bloody brilliant one in fact.

I was gloating and strutting and proud of myself, I got a 70% in lit!! I was stoked -- note the -was- here people-- I get off the bus and start walking home, no problem. I was still in a good mood, got around 3/4 the way home and mother dearests boyfriend picks me up, I say hi.

Silence.

Are you alright?

Got some growled reply with the general gist of me not caring that he's had a foul day. I lapse into silence, when you try to be friendly and get snarled at, prudence tells you to shut up.

So, getting home, mother dearest asks; how was your day?

Pretty good -- it had been, up until then you understand?

good because it's about to go to shit.

Okay?

Okay?! -- in that mocking, patronising tone, you know the one, where they're mocking your ignorance, like you should already know what they're about to go off their nut at you for.

So I dump my stuff in my room and go back out. Fifteen minutes later I discover what the problem is-- I didn't say 'good morning' to the boyfriend this morning.

I get my arse chewed out and accused of being a rude little bitch that had better change her attitude or she'll be -walking- everywhere, like I haven't heard that fucking threat before. I can deal with that, I don't mind walking/riding/getting places under my own steam -- I dont' care, it's what happens.

But what got me -really- riled and upset, so much so that I'm -crying- as I write this-- fucking weak of me I know-- is that mother dearest said 'and because you fucked up last night (sunday night) you don't have your internet priviledges on Sunday'

As if it wasn't enough taht she's fucking cut down my sadly pathetic social life to one seventh of what it was-- she now has to remove it entirely! Why, I ask you, do I fucking bother? I do good in my studies, I behave as best as I can and for what? For -this-?!

Oh and get this, the reason mother dearest was 'explaining' this to me was because her boyfriend wanted to slap me!
Quote verbatum; the only thing that stopped me from beating you this morning, was the shit I'd get into when your mother came home and saw you bleeding on the floor. Karate or no karate, I've been kicked by a cow and compared to that your puny fists won't stop me.

So.

I am going to be really, really stupid and confront him tomorrow. Provoke the prick, fucking challenge him. You wanted to beat me yesterday, leave me bleeding on the floor you said, mother heard you, so why don't you eh? what's stopping you from beating me until i'm bleeding, lying on the floor? You said my karate was useless, so go ahead, fucking hit me! I'm sure once you explain this to mother dearest she won't blame you, knowing my pox-rotted luck she'd throw -me- out. Go on, hit me, mess up my so called pretty face, fuck up my body, do some -real- damage, then maybe you'll stop fucking lusting after me and keep your eyes where they fucking belong!

If that doesn't provoke him enough I'lls tart getting violent with more than words. Oh don't hit girls? That wouldn't have made a difference to you yesterday!

I am royally pissed off/upset/whatever.

Then, once he'd done that, I'll run away. Screw school, screw their plans for me, I'll apply for uni once I"m 21 as a mature aged studen. But first I'll fucking vanish from their life. And if that doesn't work? Well, we all know I've got a lovely sharp knife in my handbag...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, that was yesterday written, I didn't get beating. Coward that I am.

Update coz I have time.

Things are rolling sort of sweetly, I freaked myself out the other day, when it was predicted to hail and the morning dawned bright and clear, and I said, when seeing it, 'it'll rain after lunch'...and it does. From a blue sky to bucketing down in a few hours. It's a little bit disturbing you understand?

What else...oh, in a lit debate, I got 85% for it, so I was rather proud of myself. Seems my lit teacher -likes- you to go really out there with interpretations of the text, so long as you can back it up with proof. It was fun. For those of you that have read Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, I can assure you that the frame narrator marginalises women. How you ask? By not mentioning them! Yay, brownie points for going out there in a wacky interpretation. And the knitting woman and the receptionist? 'Ave!' Old knitter of black wool 'Morituri te Salutant' -- Hail, those who are about to die salute you'. Latin, from what the roman Soldiers used to say and so on...I had them as margianlisted because they were listed as being virtually executioners, this little old lady and her daughter! Hehe. Yeah, I'd post the thingy, but I'm a lazy bum and my laptop hates me, it keeps on freezing so I won't tax the RAM any more than I must.

What else...

Um...oh, of course, I miss you all desperately! One day a week just doesn't cut the mustard you know?

Oh! and I have a boyfriend...of sorts. Heh, he's on the other side of Aus to me, hence the 'sort of' part. It's so sweet, he's hell romantic and a wrestler and everything, so theres two nights a week, one for training, so he's muscular and strong and... *drools* but. He needs a haircut. One flaw I think. He's hoping to be coming over here in November for a few days, I'm looking forward to that but well....School's got priority.

Speaking of which, it's four weeks as of monday until the mock's, then three days of school, graduation, two weeks wait, and then TEE exams and then fiiiiiiinished. Stuff leavers, I don't want a criminal record, nor spend a week getting drunk. Bah. Boring.

So yeah. That ought to do well enough.

I had a dream...

yes, another wacked out dream. This one had an actual message in it, god knows what, but there you have it.

I am standing in a dark room, not dark as in a lack of light, but dark as in the decore, the feel of the air. At my feet, kneeling, is a girl weeping, with short ragged cut hair hanging down over her face, covering it. She is weeping, her shoulders shaking under the robe that once was white, but is more the interminable colour of dirt. I just stand there, looking down at the top of her head, and she whispers between sobs "if only you knew, knew what I know..."

A few moments of silence, and still she weeps, another soft whisper "What I know, I would not wish on you, but I must..." I'm just looking there, looking down at the girl at my feet as she sobs, not saying anything.

She looks up and I get a jolt, for she has no eyes, just ragged holes, black as night where her eyes were, gazing up at me and she says, ever so softly, still with crimson tears dripping down her cheeks "I would not wish your path on any, for I have walked it, and would not wish you to..." and there she stands, my height, I blink, another jolt, she is me, me a few years from now, but still me. I am not me but something slightly other, something else, but she embraces me, holds me gently, and then steps into me...and I know, know what made her weep. Know what made -me- weep.

I look in the mirror off to the side, and I am not me, but I am. I am me, but I am more...

You recall the dream where i was golden skinned with the red tinge? That is me, and the firey glowing orbs of my eyes hold too much knowing...and I know what made me weep, and know what happens in my life...


And then I wake up. Still knowing.

Not pleasant to say the least.

Nyeeeh....I've got serious issues here.

Okay, update. I'm really, really, -really- uneasy living at my mothers now. I mean, mother dearest and I are getting along great, it's wonderful, but there's a teeny, tiny catch.

See, she hasn't been keeping her bf handy, so he's decided to stop being 'hers' and is hunting for new territory. Guess who's in his sights? Aheh, yeah. Yours truely.

I mean, I like him and all, as a -friend- not as a potential lover or anything of that sort, I mean, COME ON, he's 32! Ugh. No. No. No. NO! Not going to happen, ever. Yet, with me being my normal, caring self, giving a hug when anyone needs one, he's set his sights on me and....eeh...yeah.

So now, I have to avoid him while seeming -not- to, and avoid my mother while being sociable and...ugh. *whimpers* I -really- want to move out now, I've got added incentive. A rather...highly powerful one at that.

New subject, although I'm still freaked. Note to self, do -not- volinteer to work 10.5 hours on a sunday, when sunday is the sole day when you are allowed on the net to talk to people. *sighs* Yeah, worked from 11.15am till 9.30pm because the MoD was short, called me at 10.15am (if I'd rushed I could have been there for 10.30 but it was 'when I could' not 'get here now' so nyah :P) so I got up, had a shower, ate, and clocked in at 11.15am. Half hour break, stressing over a friend of mine (he was very sick) and a 2000 word essay that's due next week that I was hoping to do the majority of this weekend. I got the intro, one para and maybe half of a second written before my brain said 'up yours!' and refused to give quality. So yeah.... my life is currently nuts and I am freaked and stressed and seriously unsure about how the devil I'm going to manage this, but manage I will ...

and flee, very very swiftly from under my mothers house.

It's not what you know, but who.

You know that saying? 'It's not what you know, but who' to get around in the world? Politics and the like?

Well, I've got the dubious pleasure of being able to claim such a thing. See, on wednesday night a cousin of mine had her birthday, so it was a family get together. Brilliant, I was related to all of three people there out of a 20 people dinner thing. My dad and my two cousins. The rest was on their mother's side and polish. So, me stuck up one end, those I knew down the other so I'm talking to my in-law grandparents, baba and chacha (or however you spell it) It wasn't too bad, and when they started talking in polish I could follow the odd word here or there. (never learnt the language in my life).

However, back to my Aunt. Or whatever, she's the mother of my cousin and she works at a university, Edith Cowan University for those that know of it, and she's rather friendly with the head of the psychology department. Now, we all know what -I- want to do don't we?

So basically, I can/may/will have a guranteed seat in ECU, in any of the psych courses I want to take regardless of my TER. Isn't it lovely to have a foot in the door?

Little people

Little people sneaking through corridors,
Hiding under cracks in floorboards.
Peeking ‘round corners for the ‘all clear’,
Listening with sympathy while we shed a tear.


Little people whispering out dreams
While we wonder what they mean.
They tell us our secret desire
As we stare blankly at the fire.


Sweeping up the dust we miss,
Giggling over a secret kiss,
Watching us as we sleep,
Speaking, without a peep.


Little people ev’rywhere,
Little people in out hair.
Deep inside
I think you’ll find,
Little people hiding.




*cringes* don't laugh at me, my very first attempt at poetry and it's very bad...I think the last stanza is the best but ..yeah. Ugh. Evil. Bad. Horrid. Never to see the light of day again. Ever.

Rage

Okay, now don’t get me wrong, I’m not an aggressive person, I don’t actively search out fights, but you all ought to know, that if you –want- a fight, it’s right here waiting for you. Consequently, last night when one of our last customers that came in, a drunk, or stoned, or high on something, or all of the above, ordered and decided to be bloody difficult about it, I was …less than pleased shall we say?

So her order, a fillet bacon and cheese burger combo, but she didn’t want the drink so she’d swapped it first up for a desert. That was all fine and dandy, I got her order but, lo and behold, the desert, fresh from the freezer, had ICE on it. So, after yelling at me and saying “this is from the fucking FREEZER, the ice is from the FREEZER?!” I honestly felt like saying ‘well duh, where else does ice come from?’ But, as a token to my self-control (or customer services) I didn’t. So, she changed the desert to potato and gravy.

Well, that was a fun exercise wasn’t it? I returned the desert to the freezer, got a small prep (what we call potato and gravy), a new spoon, and handed to her. But no, this wasn’t good enough was it? “This potato and gravy looks fucking DISGUSTING.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Aren’t you listening to me?! It’s FUCKING DISGUSTING.”

Charming lady, isn’t she? I apologised again and was about to say that the appearance had nothing to do with me, when she threw the prep at the counter, split the container and splattered me oh so nicely with potato and gravy.

It’s amazing at how fast your mind can work sometimes, isn’t it? As soon as that container hit the counter, I was ready to take the fight to her, first instinct- get over the counter and deck her, second instinct- Go through the door to get her since I probably wouldn’t get over the counter. First thought- The manager probably wouldn’t like it if I started a brawl in the shop, and she’s drunk, so it’s really a waste of my time. With a sigh I started cleaning up the potato and gravy as she started storming to the door.

To those of you that know this feeling, the adrenaline rush, for most, on the very edge of a fight? Those that –aren’t- trained, aren’t aggressive, this feeling will just dissipate once the threat has left, not so with me. I have to let it out somehow, and since she In order to give her enough time to be out of my sight –before- I got really riled, I cleaned the counter and then returned to sweeping the restaurant. Unfortunately, she didn’t return when I had the broom, but once I was nearly finished mopping, complaining that her meal had maggots in it.

All of us that knew of her first episode (the whole store) found reasons to be doing things near the front, the MoD spoke to her as she was yelling about her meal having maggots in it. Her burger had maggots in it and her chips tasted like they had maggots in them. Of course, there was the choice insult, and ‘fucking’ in with her speech, and if she had turned towards me and started abusing –me- for giving her a meal with ‘maggots’ in it, well….there wasn’t a counter in the way this time, now was there?

Unfortunately, the MoD (manager on duty) seemed to know that, and sent me out the back. *sulks* I cleaned the mop, emptied out the water, and she stormed off again, to get her meal that had ‘maggots’ in it. I’ve no idea how, since a) the chicken would have been cooked less than two hours prior, and b) we make everything fresh. So if them maggots had survived being cooked for at least 2.31 minutes (the time the chips take to cook) then we have a new breed of super-maggots. Flies the haunt your dreams because the suckers won’t die!

Ho hum, taking the chairs down, and that lovely customer of ours storms back, carrying a bag with what looks to be, the burger in it. Again the forced politeness “I’ve just ordered a fillet bacon and cheese burger combo, but I didn’t want the drink so I swapped it for potato and gravy, the potato and gravy looked so bad that I left it here-“

MoD: You threw it at my staff member.

Her: I handed the potato and gravy here because it looked so disgusting-

MoD: No, you threw the container at the counter and left a mess, some of which ended up on my staff member, that’s not handing it back.

Her: (she’s starting to yell now) I handed the potato and gravy back and I found that my MEAL had MAGGOTS in it. I want a refund. Are you going to give me a refund?

MoD: Can I see your meal?

Her: I want a fucking refund! Are you hearing me? My meal had fucking maggots in it!

MoD: May I just see the burger?

She hands over the back, the MoD opens it and inside is just the wrapper, she says as much.

Her: This is a very serious complaint! Are you going to give me a refund or not?

MoD: No I’m not, this is just the wrapper, there’s no burger in here or maggots.

Meanwhile, the MoD had pushed that handy little button under the counter and called for the police, got security, and while idiot was starting to insult her ‘I used to work at a place exactly like this and you’re a worthless piece of shit that will get nowhere, you’re just a piece of shit, do you hear me? A fucking useless piece of shit’

And then she seemed to have noticed the rest of us (although I was oh so casually leaning against the counter, just three steps and I would have been out the door and –then- she would have had something to complain about) and proceeded to insult –us- for working here ‘you’re all just worthless pieces of shit!’

My, such an impressive insult repertoire. I don’t think I’ve been called a piece of shit quite so many times before. So the MoD is talking to security on the phone, she’s yelling at us and then starts to storm off. I couldn’t resist (the phone call had finished by now)

Me: Do you feel proud of yourself that you can say that? Do you go home at night and feel –safe- because you can insult people?

Her: You’re just a fucking worthless piece of shit!

My, such a pleasant end to the evening no? I –really- wanted her to turn around and storm back, yelling and cursing and insulting the whole bit, until the cops turned up, or, until she decided to get over the counter and attack someone. Then a rather pleasantly …entertaining interlude should follow.

Now, as I’ve said, I’m not an aggressive person, I don’t go looking for fights, I rarely get angry. Not irritated, -angry-. And with her, I was fuming. You do –not- throw shit at me and expect to get away with it, and then, after getting me pissed from –that- little thing, you do not then, insult me and not expect an insult (or more) back.

Honestly, some people are just asking for it.

Blind, Bound, Bleeding

Blind, Bound, Bleeding.

Red hot pain
removed my eyes;
I am Blind.

Burning coarse ropes
bind my wrists behind,
bind my ankles together,
hold my flesh unkindly;
I am Bound.

Seeping warmth, seeping life,
ebbing down my arms,
ebbing down my legs,
seeping through the gaps
in my bruised and broken flesh,
pooling my life beneath me.
I am Bleeding.

Blind,
Bound,
Bleeding.

Alone in the silence,
mute in the darkness,
held in the death
that began my life;
I am Blind.

Torn from the truth,
concealed from the lies,
hidden within their hearts,
I am Bound.

Whispering the silence,
Bound in the secrets,
Weeping for mercy;
I am Bleeding.

Blind,
Bound,
Bleeding,

Within you,
Needing you,
but Ignored.

Arrogance and Humility.

Such as too much arrogance is distasteful and annoying, so is too much humility. There -is- such a thing as being too humble, and it is almost as irritating as arrogance.

One of the girls in my class, she is very smart with languages, and she manages to get good grades in english lit, but she is so blasted -meek- about it, and humble and like 'I think this but it's probably not right so...' ...gah!

Another thing that is irritating, although I've already mentioned it, is when people make mention of something that is stressing them or whatever, and then refuse to say anything further about it!

Gah.

Oh, and the reason why my posts have recently been rather snarky and ranty and aggro and all that...bloody seasonals decide to drop by. Hormones going haywire so between craving greasy, dodgy maccas and HJ's, I snarl at everyone. -_-

Sorry guys.

A lesson learned- Lit camp and such. (long)

Day/night 1

I've discovered something rather unusual about the nataure of ego, and ironically, it was on Lit Camp watching Shakespeare in Love.

Those that are told they are 'good', the 'best', 'pure', more often than not become vain, arrogant and proud. So that when told that they are an angel etc-- the Christian personification of good-- they affect humility, bow their heads and smile in thanks, because it is expected of them.

On the other hand, those that are told they are evil, ugly, hag or witch-like, after perhaps the first few times of hurt, it doesn't inflate their ego to the same extent as if it were a 'pure' compliment. 'Purity' and 'goodness' is evidently something to be envious of others possessing, yet being evil seems to -not- be. Why is that, I wonder?

(I'm one of those people that get called 'evil' on a regular basis, I'm quite proud of it actually, of the fact that there are those that don't care to cross me because I am 'evil' ;P)

After all, do not those you call 'evil', strive to be so? Do they not work at earning that name once bestowed with it? But, while calling a soul a 'beauty', something not earnt nor worked for, they grow vain with it, arrogant, complacent. yet the 'evil' souls merely shrug (or grin), say 'meh' or 'i know' but they don't really care, not in the same way that a 'good' person does.

Day 2

Well, after weeks of almose complete silence -- a comment on my blog here or therel-- I get a text message stating somthing along the lines of 'we haven't spoken for a while, not a decent talk, how are you?'

I replied that I was well and the reason we didn't talk more often was that you never reply to your texts.
That got me the prompt assurance that from hereon, such a thing would not happen.

Suffice to say, a grand total of four texts later, two from the each of us, that covered but the pleasantries, and due to training on his part and perhaps shortly after the preparation of dinner for me, but silence reigned.

Thus the 'in depth' and 'good' conversation played out. It's nice to be contacted but, quite franikly, I find offence and dislike that after a comment promising something of a long conversation, a swiftly supplied excuse and a refusal to converse beyond the greeting...well, i'm sure you get my point.

It's just not nice (sorry, I couldn't leave the topic alone, wrote this down on paper shortly after, emotions are such -fun- things to write with) to set foundations of what might be a decent 'catch-up' conversation and then, not ten minutes later, say that you have to go, after which you outright refused to speak of anything more pointed than the blasted weather!

If you just want to assure your morals or whatever that you care, to play the 'friend' role for a few moments that month, but you don't -actually- want to talk, and you then make that abundantly clear-- I DON'T WANT TO KNOW.

I hate falsity and liars, I have said this numerous times. Unless you are willing to spend the hour or two it would take to catch up edequately, after expressing that self-same desire, spread that falacy of care over some other sap.

I mean, saying that you've had a rough week and then, when asked or offered a sympathetic ear, a shoulder to cry one, whatever, say that it's in the past and that you're looking forward to the weekend... just no.

Can anyone understand or see why I'm a mite annoyed or am I just blowing hot air?

Monday (today)

Contrary to how it sounds, I actually enjoyed myself at the camp. When the people in my chalet shut up and let me sleep. I'm a bit dead on my feet. Here's a girl that is usually asleep by 9.30, not -getting- to sleep until it is no longer pm but am, and then waking up before 7am because she can't sleep very well in a foreign bed... Yes. Well, suffice to say my lovely, charming self made herself abundantly present that last day in waking the morons up (they hadn't shut up until 3am, I woke up a 5.45AM) with a lovely, polite, knock on the door (loud enough to wake the people three chalets down...) since we had to get out of there before 7.30am.

So yes, I am not the best of people when I am tired.

Of course, they complained about -me- because I snored (fair enough, I do, and it's loud) but that is something that I CANNOT control, it's unconsious, but them talking at the top of their lungs into the wee hours of the morning is something they CAN control. Just....*snarl* Yes. I am tired. And at school. And having to do three blasted assignments tonight because they're due in a weeks time and and...argh. Maybe I'll recover from having an average of four hours sleep a night after I graduate.

There were funny parts too, we had to give an interpretation of Othello, the groups chose specific scenes and all, and the last one was -funny- as. It was Desdamona's killing scene, and they over dramatised it something cruel. Melodrama, parody. I hurt myself laughing.

Othello has just strangled Desdamona, and she's there lying on the pillows (pillows laid out along the floor = bed) and (s)he's yapping on "And it is Emilia!" Now 'emilia' knocks "Now it is Emilia!" hehehe.

When Iago kills Emilia, she goes to lay next to Desdamona on the bed only there's not enough room (she was laying wonky) so hup! Dead desdamona shifts over XD

And Lodovico is (to Iago) take away his sword-- Iago now takes -out- said sword (it's a spatula, egg slice flippy thing)

Othello belly-stabs Iago with a ladle (big spoon) XD Gets disarmed by Cassio (who is very injured supposedly), says his bit with Iago and Othello over-glaring at each other, glaring, giving the evils from a whole, three inches of distance between their faces.

Othello apologises to Cassio for agreeing to his death and is supposed to take a blade from him for his suicide, only he doesn't, and oh so casually walks around the bed, takes a 'dagger' (a pair of salad tongs, you know, the metal ones?) and hides it behind his back XD

So then Othello says his cut-short suicide speech and lays on Desdamona, who is laughing, and the shoulder bouncing, as they hadn't practised beforehand XD Othello is trying to be dead and there's 'dead' Desdamona, laughing at him.

Very very funny. I rather enjoyed it, hurt myself laughing, but then so did the rest of the class, including the cast XD

Oh, I was also sent after one of the girls, since she was wandering around the rocks and my lit teacher didnt' want her to be alone any more. First I tried to find her, easier said than done when it's cliff faces that aren't flat. -_- But I discovered that I was rather good at tracking things, over shell-studded sand that left like, zippo tracks. I watched her for a bit, waiting patiently for her to notice me, and when she did, she jumped, I did scare her. >_< It was a nice view though.

Another time, I scared the same girl, by walking down the hallway of one of the chalets (little house-like things) and standing, she turns, saw me, and hit her head on the roof. XD

Uhum...what else...

Oh! I bought two books there, I just finished reading one, Kushiels Dart, it's rather good actually. About an anguisette (masochist, very much so) courtesan spy person, intruige, politics, war, prophesy, riddles, sailing ships, blood, fighting, death, sex -- Since the goddess Naamah is the diety of it and whores and the like are priestesses sort of, Servants of Naamah.

I recomend it actually, if you like reading complex storylines where things aren't very easy to follow but you grow into the understanding as the tale continues, as does the character...

Very very nice. A good read. Not many books can move me to tears once, let alone three times, like this one did.

And that I think, shall be the note on which I end this (and the fact that the bells about to go I think), so yeah, two or three days (depends how you count it) of lit camp, and it worked out to be rather ...productive actually.

Lit camp, hurrah. -_-

Yes, I am just -so- completely thrilled to be going on an English Literature camp for the next four days. Yummy. From thursday to Sunday of Lit, solid bloody lit stuff. At least it's on Rottnest I suppose.

But still, I'd rather have a weekend, than nigh on seven days of school. Seriously, wouldn't you rather have a weekend in which to do whatever, than -have- to follow a schedual and learn and whatnot? Ugh. Not my cup of tea.

But speaking of weekends, or rather, school, mother dearest spoke to two of my teachers yesterday, my history and lit teacher, lo and behold because they said that I could- should be able to do my TEE exams and pass with flying colours, mother dearest has got it into her head that she is going to cut out my net time, COMPLETELY. That was the idea she had at the bloody parent/teacher interviews.

Luckily she realised that she had next to no chance of getting me to agree to such a thing, so she's 'compromised' it to be that I can spend ONE day a week on the net chatting. Oh joy. And she's going to be bloody monitoring -that- day too, 'you're not going on for the whole day' yaddah yaddah yaddah.

Oh and dictating to me as well! Check this, 'when you're not in school, you will be either working or studying.' Okay. Right. Like hell.

Point a) if I studied as much as other kids in my class do, then I would have gone through the year's work, four times over by the time the end of the year bloody rolls around, start to finish. That's for -all- my subjects. Point b) I need RELAXING time. She says 'don't fight me on this' so give me some fucking time to wind down! I've got enough to deal with as it is, with tests, assessments and whatnot every week, -without- having to worry about my home life as well.

Of course, if I stay in my room, unless I put a fucking sign on the door saying STUDYING, PISS OFF! she'll be knocking on the bloody thing every half hour to ask why I'm being rude and not 'socialising'. Honestly, I can't win.

I'm also sick of having to humble myself to her bloody boyfriend. It's to keep the peace in the house and the fact that I don't want to be blamed for causing yet another argument, but the truth is, I am -sick- and tired of him telling me what to do! I mean, he's not my father, he has no right to -act- like my father, it's only out of some remanents of respect for my mother that I do as he bloody says, and he exploits that and yells at -me- for not doing what she says, what he says, as they expect his child to do!

Argh, I am NOT in a good mood.

Logic

Okay, walk with me through this road of logic that has me quite honestly baffled.

Our cat is a queen and in heat, so in order for everyone else to sleep semi-peacefully, my mother's bf has been losing sleep keeping her quiet. This makes him tired during the day and snappish.

Mother dearest doesn't liek that he's tired and testy, so they tend to fight.

I avoid the fights as best as I can, and stay out of their way.

Pheonix unfortunately, get's the brunt of her father's temper in the mornings.

So. To keep the peace in the house, I'm not allowed on the internet.

Right.


Mother is pissed at bf, bf is pissed at mother and to keep THEM happy, -I- have to stay in my room and off my computer?

Does any body follow the logic of that? Anyone at all? Aside of course, from the minor little detail that ALL arguments are caused by the internet and it's me, my laptop and the INTERNET'S fault that they're arguing.

I'm just...baffled. and totally not photogenic. Ugh. But that's for another day perhaps, since I don't really wish to deal with the arguments right now.

Causes of the 1917 Februrary Russian Revolution

(infodump essay, so that I can find it later without taking up any memory on my pendrive or harddrive. Oh, and our kitten is now a queen and she's in heat. Bloody noisy nuisance of a cat.)



Intro: The 1917 Revolution in Februrary was merely the explosion from a steady build up of pressure. When the 1905 Revolution acheived next to nothing for the workers and peasants and they realised that, the discontent started building again. Not only had Tsar Nicholas II reneged on the promises made in the October Manifesto, but the Duma he allowed to form supported -him- rather than the interests of the workers and peasants, those that had protested essentially. If this alone was not enough then the mismanagement of the people and politics during World War One certainly would have been.



Before the war

Economic causes- Due to the Industrial revolution, the economy was proving to be more efficient and profitiable compared to the output it once had. This meant that the archaic methods of farming were set aside and updated (around 200 years -after- the rest of Europe), albeit only slightly and industries in the cities and towns were increasing production.

- City population swelled as peasants were migrating from the farms and countryside into the cities for employment. Each factory had 1000+ workers by 1913, which made living conditions poor and labour very cheap. The low wages only increased discontent among the disgruntled workers and the close living conditions meant that it was much easier for word of a protest to get around, since censorship of the newspapers prevented the more conventional methods.



Social causes- While in some aspects the conditions of the peasants and workers -had- improved, in most others they had not, living conditions, equality of status and the right to have an equally weighted vote wasn't among the improvements. The aristocracy and upper/middle class beurgoise(sp? Merchants essentially) retained the majority of the power, leaving the peasants and workers on the bottom rungs of the social ladder.

- Bloody Sunday (February 9th, 1905) meant that the Tsar could no longer rely on the peasants loyalty for his rule (peasants are around 80% of the population). Stolypin, his Minister of the Interoro knew this and tried to get their loyalty back to the Tzar by improving famring -and- crushing the revolutionaries. His method was court marshalls, very abrupt 'justice' systems. 24 hours after being convicted the prisoner would have a trial and within 24 hours of the trial they had to have the execution-- usually by hanging. Hence the gallows became known as 'Stolypins neckties'.



Political causes- The Duma, the Third one formed but the first to actually serve it's full term of 5 years, was made up of wealthy merchants and aristocracy, therefore it was highly supportive of the Tsar and very conservative. The First Duma made a vote of no confidence in the government, Nicholas' response was to dissolve the Duma. The Second Duma was made up of Social Revolutionaries (those that started the Revolution in 1905 and want to remove the Tsar completely from his throne) was dissolved four days before it even took seat on the premise that they weren't loyal to the throne. The third Duma was made and allowed to stay as it -supported- the Tsar's decisions, rendering it rather unpopular with the peasants and workers. --prime hunting ground for the left- and right-wing revolutionaries.

The War
Effects on the people- Low wages--> due to a great number of workers going off to the war (around one in three soldiers were conscripted) businesses were failing regularly, unless of course they were part of building and creating armaments, ammunition, guns and so on, supplies for the army essentially.
- Inflation and high bread costs--> again due to the number of people in the war there weren't enough peasants working the land and farming crops to supply food for everyone, let alone the army, this pushed bread prices through the roof, a precious commodity.

Effects on the Army- Shortages --> Food, arms and ammunition were short, obviously, due to the fact that the Tsar had left about one tenth of the working population to -work- and provide the food and products for the rest of the country. It got so bad that at one stage the soldiers had to wait until their comrades holding guns fell and died to pick up their weapon and march on.
- Heavy losses --> frequent defeats to Germany and the officers treating the war like a race to Berlin resulted in a loss of morale. The individual officers advanced ahead of their supply lines and not as a uniform force, one flank would advance further than another and have to retreat. Rather than forcing the Germans out of Russia in a unified force. The Officers, generals, captains etc were made up of aristocracy, given their positions from favours and rank (ie, Lord such and such) rather than on -merit-, their capabilities as a leader was never previously tested.

Tsar Mistakes- The Tsar dismissed his uncle, Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaevich and took personal command of the army. This was a bad move because the defeats the Russian army took in the face of the German's were now blamed directly on Nicholas II rather than on his ministers and officials. Further loss of morale and supportive loyalty to the Tsar from the civilians, army and almost everyone.
- His second major mistake was leaving the Tsarina (his disliked GERMAN wife) and Rasputin (disliked 'priest' that was introduced to the family because the heir had haemophillia and the doctors couldn't do anything about it, Rasputin managed to help somehow.) in charge. In an autocracy, the autocrat canNOT leave the centre of power to stand on the peripherals, not without commiting virtually political suicide.

Tsarina and Rasputin- The Tsarina was German and disliked before the war, now that she was in power and they were at -war- with the Germans, her popularity plummeted. Essentially she was seen as a German spy and distrusted as well as disliked - now hated.
- Now Rasputin is a bit more complex of a character. He was a peasant that was raised up through the ranks by becoming a clergy minister, of sorts. He was a mystic, a rather disliked mystic because he damaged the Royal Family's reputation, -and- because he was an advisor to the Tsar, advice which the Tsar took. Rasputin had religious 'councelling' sessions with the aristocracy. They ended up being sex orgies as numerous rituals needed to be performed 'naked'. (side note of random information, aparantly he was 11". Ouch. Perhaps his appeal was hidden beneath his cassock?)

The Revolusion- Coldest winter on record, with an average of -12 deg C compared with the -4.4 deg C of the year before.
- Low food, low wages, low comfort. On the 23rd of February--> International Womens day and thousands of women marched in a protest. They were joined by their menfolk as they marched onto the Winter Palace.
- General Khabalov tried to introduce rationing when the food shortages ran low --> very bad idea, too little too late. Should have rationed -before- then.
- Then Khabalov lost control of the army when they refused to fire on the women protestors and joined in the riot. The Tsar couldn't get the army to supress the revolution if the army didn't follow his and his general's orders, so he was forced to abdicate without the power of the army behind him to enforce his rule.

(There we go, info dump complete.)

Arrogance.

Okay, two things, first; if you don't like my point of view or my opinions as I voice them here without worrying about insulting someone then, I assure you, you are under NO constraints to continue reading.

This is MY blog, MY head and if you don't like what you find here then go alt+F4 or move onto another site. I know I'm arrogant, I know I'm far from blameless in NAY category, I make no excuses for it, I accept it and I try my bloody hardest to change it, mostly. But if YOU think to judge me, condemn me for what you find in my head after I INVITED YOU IN, then you know where the 'x' in the corner of your screen is, USE IT.

Okay, rant on that topic over.

I hate the cause for my post today, as it is horribly hypocritical, but other peoples arrogance -really- pisses me off. Well actually, it's just this one girl. My RE teacher was speeling off about quantum physics and philosophy, and because -she- was bored with the topic or couldn'g understand it, she kept on saying 'no, no, stop. You cant. Just no.'

Of course, she said it quietly but it was the tone of voice that riled me. It was that... pompous silver-spoon upper-crust attitude, as though because -she- was sick of it, everyone else should agree with her attitude.

And I've probably offended Xin, again, with that comment.

I wasn't born into weath, I'm still not PART of wealth. I don't conceal the fact that I'm a 'poor breed', even in my previous school, a country town, I was still a 'poor breed'. That colours my judgements, I know it does, it means, ironically, that I'm ever so slightly prejudiced against rich people. Especially those that 'waste' money. You know, those that go out every weekend and blow upwards of $100 a week, on their 'me' time, or shopping or sociallising or whatever, you get my point.

The arrogance that comes with being priviledged -really- annoys me, it's like the do-gooder Christians, those that want to go out and convert the 'barbarians' and 'heathens' into their 'civilisation'. It sickens me, that they preach about doing the 'Lords' work and love thy neighbour and all that fruit, just so that they can go and be a 'good' person, and have something to bloody brag about on Sunday!

Bloody hypocrits (yes, I'm including myself in here, I'm a bloody hypocrit too, wonder why I loathe myself?)

Morals

You know, sometimes I hate having such high morals that I do, and what I hold as value, since it tends to create such arguments among those around me.

I've just had an RE class to do with morals and arguing with almost everyone else in my class because they quite frankly, can't see beyond their own blasted nose! I mean, it was to do with capitalism and how the more selfish the society the higher the level of mental illness is etc, but we got to arguing about people having choices. The general opinion was that -everyone- chose what they did, if someone raped another they CHOSE to do so. Fair enough, there is -some- choice in the matter, but more often than not there is next to no choice, not as you would consider a 'choice' to be. It's not always black and white, right and wrong.

I tried to bring in the point of prostitutes, how not all of them -choose- to be streetwalkers, it's the only way they can support themselves, their families etc. One bright spark said 'well become a waitress' and from there the argument went on. *sighs*

So, I got fed up with them condemning those that make 'bad' choices and I just -had- to say something. I said "This will get me yelled at, but from what I'm hearing, you are all from rich families, you have to to go here (it's an expensive school) so you can't know what these other people face to make the 'choises' they do, it's not always a choice. So get down off your high horse and away from the assumption that EVERYONE comes from the same background as you, on the same pedastle that you oh so regally look down from when they DON'T. Walk a mile in another's shoes before you judge them.'

Yes, well, that got me royally yelled at. Fair enough I could have phrazed it more delicately than I did, but you can understand that I was a bit pissed off by this point. They're saying that no matter what happens you can always make a choice yadda yadda yadda. I mean, COME ON people, the world is NOT perfect, get down of your horse and walk the streets for a while, get your lilly-white feet dirty and THEN you can tell me that they made the fucking choice to steal.

I'm an openminded person, extremely so, I don't cast stones, not without having been in that exact same situation and I have reacted in a way different to them. The girls in my class were all for saying 'who do you think you are? You don't know me, you don't know what I've been through' etc, and too right, I DON'T know whaty THEY have been through, but I DO know what OTHERS have. And it is from -that- knowledge that I condemn them for 'lording' it over the 'lower class'.

Yeah, Australia is a classless society my foot.