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.