Shatter

It’s funny you know, at how swiftly you can go from being relatively normal to the brink of shattering, to where you have to hold onto yourself so very very tight, tight enough that your teeth grind against each other and your bones squeak in protest, yet if you let go, if you relax, you’ll shatter. Shatter into a million teeny tiny pieces that will never be picked up again, put back together, because each shard is sharp enough to kill, sharp enough to die, sharp enough to hurt and not care.

I almost shattered last night, shattered into those teeny tiny pieces, shattered because...well... because I hate myself. I really do. I’m horrid. My boyfriend will now no doubt agree with me, I’m a dreadful heartless bitch. Too distant to be touched, too distant from reality to care about others. I don’t know. I ...I warned him. I told him, I don’t care easily, I cannot love. Not the way you would love, or anyone else for that matter. My ‘love’ is selfish, it’s simply really a desire to not be so alone. But then, I deserve to be alone. I deserve to be single all my life, a spinster, a hermit, someone that goes to work then comes home and immerses herself in the electronic banalities of society.

I don’t have friends. Not really. I have people I interact with on a routine basis. Those I talk to occasionally in/before/after class, the occasional chat I have while working, perhaps a talk with my mother, the brief interactions with the people online, but that is all. I don’t ...stress I suppose you could say, that I don’t have a clique of friends to spend the weekends with – I’m usually working anyways so it’s no big.

But...

Well. If -you- are the one that is initiating a break up, aren't -you- supposed to be not effected by it? I don't know. I've never.... I...

I really can't...I don't know. I'm shattering again, I can watch the fractures creep across the fragile inner me, creep creep ...spike...crack. Crawl across who I am like a disease, or the way that glass can crack into a million pieces just before it falls from the window. I'm ...afraid. Terrified. If I let myself shatter, if I ...stop desperately holding myself together, containing what I am, then my shattering will be fatal. And it scares me. It scares me so very very much.

If you had said to me, two days ago 'tomorrow you're going to try and dump your boyfriend and the day after see suicide looming as a very great possibility on the horizon' I would have laughed. I wouldn't have believed you. Two days ago, breaking up with him wasn't on my mind, I would have had a thousand other things hammering for attention -- movies to watch, books to read, or assignments to do which are still glaring at me in their unfinishedness. Suicide? yeah right, that was -last- year, I'm good this year. I've been to a counsellor, I'm 'fixed' or something.

But now ....


I can see it. I can see it through the fractures. If they fall, there won't be anything between me and ... I'm terrified to shatter, petrified. I don't want to shatter, I don't want to be nothing but depression and hate so I'm holding the flaws, holding the hate to me, holding it so tightly that my arms are aching, my teeth squeak against each other as I grind my jaw, my lungs are short of breath from the so tight grip I have on myself, that tight, fist hold that I need to have.

And already ....I know ...I can see ...I can't keep this iron grip forever. One day, something is going to knock me, nudge that fragile fracturing and all my careful grip has done was stave off the inevitable, and I'll shatter.

I'll shatter into a thousand, million, teeny tiny pieces of hurt, of hate, of self-loathing. One part of my mind is trying to deny this, deny that I'm so absolutely terrible, but it is a small part. A very small ...quiet...voice saying 'no no no, you're not. You're better!' and it's over powered by the voice that says 'you're a piece of worthless shit, you have no heart, you're heartless, empty and filled with a black, cold void of nothing. There is no light, no life, no love. You -deserve- to be hurting like this, you deserve to be hated, you deserve to be alone. You don't deserve him. You don't deserve anybody. It's only a matter of time until the world realises how very worthless and pathetic you are. You've done the deed, or at least he thinks so, and is hurting because of YOU. You don't want to hurt any body? Keep going like you are and you'll hurt EVERYBODY and they'll hate you. And you deserve it. You know you do. Because you're just a worthless piece of shit, a fat, stupid, pathetic piece of shit. You didn't even THINK of giving him a call to break up, rather than doing it over an IM, you piece of shit, you piece of fucking shit, you're the dirt -beneath- the shit, not even worth that much. Fucker. Deal with the fucking consequences you idiot, you fucking worthless pile of emptiness. You don't deserve any body. You don't deserve to be comforted -- after all, you brought this on yourself. He didn't initiate it, -you- did, so deal with the consequences of being worthless, of less than a fucking piece of shit.'

And that little, tiny voice is getting quieter 'no no no, you're not, you're better!' so quiet that I have to strain to hear it ...while the other is louder, getting louder all the time. 'YOU FUCKING PIECE OF WORTHLESS SHIT. YOU DON'T DESERVE ANYTHING, DO YOU? YEAH, YOU AGREE WITH ME YOU PIECE OF SHIT'

'no no, you're better!'

Piece of fucking shit. Stop your fucking crying you worthless whore, think anybody cares? YOU DID THIS. You don't deserve anything. You deserve to be alone.

No no, you deserve more, everyone deserves someone to hold them...

PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT. YOU DON'T DESERVE ANYONE, DESERVE TO BE ALONE, LONELY, HATED AND HATING AND HURTING. AND YOU FUCKING -KNOW IT-

Ah...breakups.

Yes...yes. My boyfriend of 9 months ...or something like that ...is being broken up with. And I don't know how to do it!

I mean, I like him and all but...we've got next to nothing in common, and the distance and all ... So our conversations, when they happen, have been all 'hi, how was your day?' and he'd talk at me about his day, then, the reverse would happen for me. And...that's pretty much it. With the odd comment about dinner, or his dad or....y'know?

Not exactly the most riveting of things, understandably.

And we talk -at- each other. Not too. I've got nothing to say about what he says, and he's got nothing to say about what I say. We're strangers that know each other slightly well.

I don't want to hurt him, I don't have anyone waiting on the wings or anything, it's just....I'm bored. I don't know. Gah!

I knew that we didn't have much in common, but it wasn't a problem before! now...i don't know why, but it is. He adores me and all -- except at the moment I'm his least favourite person, understandably -- and because of that I don't want to hurt him...but...I don't want him as my boyfriend any more.

Friend is fine, like, a cuddle friend or ...y'know? The protective sort, but not a boyfriend. There's something wrong with me, he's wonderful really, sweet, kind, patient -- god knows he's patient -- and willing and a hard worker and all things that would make a wonderful provider for a family, the sort of loyal, dependable male that most girls are supposed to crave in a male, stability and everything and... I don't want that. I don't know why, but he's not the sort of male that I can see myself living with really. He's just....gah. I don't know. Looking at this I'm like....why am I breaking up? And my reply is that I don't know, but what I -do- know, is that well...it's stagnated. It's gotten flat. All the buzz and bubble popped out while I wasn't looking.

I just...

Don't know what to do.

Ah...the world is a wonderful place.

Children groomed for sex by polygamist sect: official

Wednesday Apr 9 09:17 AEST

Hundreds of young girls removed from a polygamist sect in Texas were being groomed to accept sex with adult men as soon as they reached puberty, officials said in court records released overnight.

Girls as young as 13 were "spiritually married" to men on the compound and forced to have sex with them "for the purpose of having children," according to an affidavit by an investigator with the Texas Department of Family and Protective Services.

A number of young girls who were pregnant or had recently given birth were discovered on the ranch after a desperate call for help was made by a 16-year-old girl who was pregnant again just eight months after giving birth to the child of her 50-year-old husband.

"There is a pervasive pattern and practice of indoctrinating and grooming minor female children to accept spiritual marriages to adult male members of the YFZ (Yearn For Zion) Ranch resulting in them being sexually abused," investigator Lynn McFadden told the court.

"Similarly, minor boys residing on the YFZ Ranch, after they become adults, are spiritually married to minor female children and engage in sexual relationships with them, resulting in them being sexual perpetrators," she said.

"This pattern and practice places all of the children located at the YFZ Ranch, both male and female, to risk of emotional, physical and/or sexual abuse."

More than 400 children were removed from the 1,700 acre (688 hectare) ranch owned by the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints during a dayslong raid which began Thursday.

They are being held in a historic fort in nearby San Angelo, Texas along with more than 130 women, most of them mothers, who left the compound.

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Teens charged over YouTube cheerleader bashing

Wednesday Apr 9 07:04 AEST

Eight teenagers have been arrested and charged with beating another teen in an "animalistic attack" so they could make a videotape to post on YouTube.

Seven of the accused remained in juvenile detention on Tuesday, authorities said. A boy who was charged as an adult had been released on bail.

Victoria Lindsay was attacked on March 30 by six teenage girls when she arrived at a friend's home, authorities said.

One of the girls struck the 16-year-old cheerleader on the head several times and then slammed her head into a wall, knocking her unconscious, according to an arrest report.

Later, according to a clip of the video that was released by the Polk County sheriff's office, the teens can be seen blocking a door and hitting Victoria.

"It's absolutely an animalistic attack," Sheriff Grady Judd said Tuesday on NBC television's Today show. "They lured her into the home for express purpose of filming the attack and posting it on the internet."

Victoria's father, Patrick Lindsay, said the teens intended to post the video on the video-sharing website YouTube.

Christina Garcia, mother of one of the defendants, said her daughter had turned the tape over to police.

The sheriff's office said that after the attack, three of the teens forced the victim into a vehicle and drove her to another location, where she was told she would be given a worse beating if she contacted police.

All eight suspects were arrested April 2 and charged with battery and false imprisonment. The three teens who took Lindsay to the second location are also charged with felony kidnapping.

Lindsay was treated for a concussion, damage to her left eye and left ear, and numerous bruises, police said.

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Isn't the world a lovely, darling, -wonderful- place? Doesn't this just INSPIRE you to go out and ...love...your fellow man? Love them so much that they get a great big love hole in the back of their head from your shotgun of love? Yes, we all want to love our fellow man. Some of us though, *sigh* sadly, cannot do it. So the few that have the skills, and guns enough to endow our fellow man with proof of our love, must bear such a horrible, horrible burden.

Share the love people, go out and share the LOVE you have for your fellow man. Share until they cannot move from the awe of your love. From the blinding impact of reality, of the obvious in that 'oh god! I am so LOVED'.



On a brighter note, I -love- multiple choice tests. (No sarcasm this time :P) They're like sooo.....not hard. You don't have to strain your brain coming up with adequate, coherent and cohesive answers, you just colour in a little dot. It's wonderful. You've got a 25% chance of getting it right, and when you're told that it's usually B or C that's a 50% chance of passing, 25% chance of failing, and a 25% chance of being a progedy and getting them all right! Whoo, lets aim for 100% lotto slikpick!

But MAN wednesdays are -killing- me. Get up at 6.30, get home at 11.30pm and, liek now for example, be asleep by MAYBE 1am. Ugh. Tired.

Lets vote to get rid of Hump day! It's not the start of the week, nor the end, it's the hump in the middle. Remove Hump day!

I'm 18 now.

And it's delightful and boring at the same time. There's this ...thrill... as you walk around, knowing that there is literally nothing you can't do. You're a legal adult, you can go to pubs, nightclubs, adult stores, vote, drive, gamble ...the world is open to you! You can go conquer the world and no one can tell you not to!

Yet....yet at the same time you feel exactly the same. I'm exactly the same as I was two days ago, yet I can do so much -more-. Like drink legally.

Speaking of drinking, it was hell funny on my birthday (yesterday, April 5th). My mothers boyfriend, Shane, tried to get me drunk. He wanted to get me seriously maggoted, plastered, well marinated so that I was, quote, 'wurring my slurds' or, slurring my words. Well....that was the plan.

Such a pity that Shane fell asleep on the couch after four glasses non? Mind you, there was a shot between each glass, Baileys and milk mmm. I got mildly tipsy, but that's about it.

What'd I get? A 9carat gold bangle from my mum, a 24carat or something, necklace and pendant(a heart with a butterfly, the body of the butterfly one side of the heart) from my boyfriend, and a platinum (white gold) necklace from my dad, that has more diamonds in it than metal! It is -very- nice. Very flash. I love it! all my lovely shinies.

And NO, I didn't get a hang over. I drank lots of water, well, not lots, but some, and that combated the dehydration. I'm tiptop and raring to go, so much so that I'd been up for 15 minutes and had started on some homework I had to do. Law homework none the less, so not exactly easy.

Which brings me to now, or rather, later today. I discovered (was pointed to) a poor girl that would be the poster child for reasons to have an abortion...

http://i.somethingawful.com//sasbi/2006/08/elpintogrande/
04-julianabirth.jpg

(copy and paste, the link is fragmented)

It is real. Very real. Poor Juliana.

This is an extreme example of Treacher's Collins Syndrome. It's similar to having a cleft palate but instead of missing just the roof of your mouth, you're missing your entire mouth. And in the case of Juliana, jaw, orbit bones (thats what the eye sits in) and basically everything that's below the cranium.

You always get advocates as to why you -shouldn't- abort a child well...No offence to my religious friends, but consider what happens when you -don't-. Juliana, as sad as this sounds, should have been aborted. She's had to have surgery to breathe properly, and think of the stigmatism, the ostracizing, the hate, the bullying, the general mean nature of children, -and- adults that she'll get through out her life because of something she cannot change? The flinch and aversion of eyes that -everyone- will give her on first meeting? She has a completely cognitive, coherent mind, no brain damage, and there in lies the true tragedy. She will know, exactly, that she is different, she is less, she is considered to be 'deformed'. And there's not alot surgery can do to help her. there's nothing for bone to be grafted onto, nothing for plastic and metal to be supported from.

She'll have to spend her entire life like this, living as a 'freak of nature', because of lobbyists voting for the right to life. Ever considered that creatures that wouldn't live without our technological advances, shouldn't? I'm not going against abortion mind you, if the mother was a victim of a rape and a child is the result, abortion is fine. If its just cost, adoption. Likewise for the 'oops', adopt the child out if you don't want it.

Euthanasia. People that are too sick to live, have fatal illnesses and that the only way for them to exist longer is in a vegetative state with machines breathing for them, pumping and filtering their blood, feeding them, stretched out through pain an endless cycle of pain, should be allowed to die. The extremely old and infirm, where the body has given up but science wont concede the fight, people who are in a coma for years and years and years with 0% chance of waking up should have the plug pulled on them. You can't kill something that is nothing more than a body lying there performing bodily functions like breathing. It's not possible.

How is it humane to keep another in a state of agony, of perpetual existance where all they can do is listen to the beeping of machines and watch the shadows move over the ceiling?

My themesong.

Bad Boy by Cascada.


Remember the feelings, remember the day
My stone heart was breaking
My love ran away
This moment I knew I would be someone else
My love turned around and I fell


Be my bad boy, be my man
Be my week-end lover
But don't be my friend
You can be my bad boy
But understand
That I don't need you in my life again



Won't you be my bad boy, be my man
Be my week-end lover
But don't be my friend
You can be my bad boy
But understand
That I don't need you again
[Bad Boy lyrics on http://www.metrolyrics.com]

No I don't need you again

Bad boy!

You once made this promise
To stay by my side
But after some time you just pushed me aside
You never thought that a girl could be strong
Now I'll show you how to go on

Be my bad boy, be my man
Be my week-end lover
But don't be my friend
You can be my bad boy
But understand
That I don't need you in my life again

Won't you be my bad boy, be my man
Be my week-end lover
But don't be my friend
You can be my bad boy
But understand
That I don't need you again
No I don't need you again




And the song with lyrics. Yay for youtube ^_^

I just, personally, think that this song is absolutely me. It's wonderful. I adore it. <3 src="http://www.metrolyrics.com/images/l/569864765.jpg" height="1" width="1">

Two things...

One, mucho importante! It's my birthday in a week and three days from today. That's April 5th if you're being lazy. I'm soooooo excited. I'll be 18!!!!!!!

Two, I'm hyper. Okay that makes three points...bear with me, I'll get to the third! Getting up at 6.30am isn't fun. I hate mornings. They were only invented to stop night and afternoon from bumping into each other (note, it goes afternoon, EVENING, night) so, at 2.45pm I had a mocha. On the theory that when I get home from work tonight, I'll actually be able to sleep!!

Lets see how well that works out. I'm actually tired, again, now, but with that buzzing that tells me I won't be able to sleep. Y'know when your sleep isn't actually -sleep-, where you spend periods of deeper unconsiousness interspaced with listening to the wind and the creaking of the house? Asleep but aware? That's what the majority of my 'sleep' last night was like. Hence why I had caffeine.

Aaand the second (now third) thing. A poem!

(don't blame me if its dodgy, it's the caffeine)

Picture on the Wall.

Picture on the wall
you tore my love away,
made him sail away
sail to the distant shore
and forget all about me.

Places of mystery,
land where there's gold,
rubies, dragons and fortune,
and he forgot about me.
Forgot me,
for you,
you picture on the wall.

Pictures of far away places,
places of mythology.
Where dragons, unicorns,
monsters dare to roam.

For far away places
my love sailed away,
was torn away,
by you,
you picture on the wall.

Paintings of promises,
promises of lies,
lies of beauty,
illusions to reach for.

With promised illusions,
beautiful lies,
my love sailed away.
Went away,
left and forgot me,
forgot the world he knew.
For you,
you picture on the wall.

The king promised a fortune,
I got a penny; now a pauper,
waiting for my love to return.
Return from far away lands,
in a painting on the wall,
from you,
you picture on the wall.

The Grassy Hill

‘See that hill, the one hidden away, out of sight?

If you sit and wait, quiet-like, watching till night,

you might see something few have seen before,

a rare vision gleaned straight from old folk-lore.

A something hidden, something secret,

something I doubt you will ever forget.

‘Hush now, the sun has finally gone,

do you hear it, that faint wafting song?

Sit sit, do not move, else you might not see

this mystery, this beauty I know you want to be.

Look there! Do you see it, see the slight change?

Patience now, if you want to see it, you will manage.

‘Do you see them as they peer out,

searching for watchers they’re sure to be about?

The little creatures that shy from Man,

yet are found all throughout the land.

They search the grass around their little door,

though they freeze at what they think they saw.

‘Hush, hush. Ah! Here she comes from below

the minuscule little lady that runs this show.

The regally glowing Queen of the creatures hidden

beneath the surface of mortal woes to gladden

the heavy heart with joyful dreams

where nothing is what it seems.

‘She throws gleefully coloured balls

deep within her soil crafted halls,

where all the creatures come to dance

and hope to make a memorable entrance

before their delicate crystal Queen,

Ruler of the Realm of the Mortal Dream.

‘There, you see her now, her crystal form

glinting in the moonlight as though torn

from the mysteries of a half remembered dream,

a delicate nightmare that makes you want to scream?

Do you see her, the delicate crystal beauty of her,

and in seeing the ethereal beauty of her, do you fear her?

‘Now, now, don’t look at me like that

you know this is not fantasy, but fact.

Can you not feel the urge, feel the need

to turn and run with a blood-curdling scream?

Her fragile form holds an ice-cold heart,

you would know this, if you were smart.

‘See her subjects, as bright as bright can be

dancing joyous in coloured gaiety,

they twirl, spin and dance,

their performance’s sole purpose is to entrance

the unseen watcher beneath the full-moon

knowing that helpless, they will come out of hiding soon.

‘There, the magic is set, the trap is ready,

will you resist, though the urge to move is heady?

You want to join them, surely there is no harm,

not a movement, not a twitch that might cause alarm?

The twirling dance goes on and on

moving to the distant wafting song.

‘Your finger twitches, tapping in time with the soft beat

and before long, it is joined by both your feet.

Go on then, go and join them. Stand.

For after all, you are only a mortal Man.

So stand and go, yes you will,

and dance with them, into the grassy hill.’

Some faint sense twines through the spell

as the hill closed behind him, tolling a death-knell.

He turns and tries to run and flee

but the song snatches him up with glee

and gently sweeps clean his mind;

till there is not a thought to find.

‘Welcome to my Realm, the world beneath the surface,

a world filled with lies and endless grace.

You shall know, no more, no hate nor joy.

Well mortal, did you like my crystal decoy?

There, there, mortal, no need to cry

though you will never again see the sky.

‘Little mortal, you came to me willingly,

though I lured you with words, you see

there is none to blame but yourself,

but you will not grow old and placed on a shelf,

this age is yours to forever enjoy

while you spend eternity as my mortal toy.’

And in so hearing the mortal cried,

wept for the death longed for and denied.

Their fate sealed as they danced under the hill,

not knowing the Queen moved in for the kill.

Now they spend eternity at the feet of the Ice-Queen

soundlessly screaming, in this nightmare of a Dream.



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

I don't recall if I've posted this previously, but I think I have. It is a nice poem none the less, I think in any case, so I'll post it twice, just to bask in my own brilliance. Yes, arrogant of me I know, but I'm allowed to be arrogant, at least a little I think. If not, sue me.

I had a relevation today, by the way, a startling one indeed. My sense of time is -extremely- screwy. Like, the passage of it doesn't matter a whole heap to me. Something obvious, for instance: the Twin Towers. 9/11 2001. I'm like...that wasn't that long ago, was it? It was only two or three years ago, right? I'm -sure- I was older than 11 when it happened...

And a friend of mine, who got married and is now onto kid number two. I was like wait...hold up, wasn't she only just pregnant and talking about baby stuff? WEREN'T YOU ONLY JUST MARRIED!? it hasn't been 9 months yet, has it? And he's like heh, yeah. Kid two has just come.

O.o

I lament my sense of time. It is very bad. Why? Why do I have issues with time when I am a very organised person?! Whyyyy?

Sweeney Todd

'There's a hole in the world like a great black pit
and the vermin of the world inhabit it
and it's morals aren't worth what a pig could spit
And it goes by the name of London.
At the top of the hole sit the previlaged few
Making mock of the vermin in the lonely zoo
turning beauty to filth and greed...
I too have sailed the world and seen its wonders,
for the cruelty of men is as wonderous as Peru
but there's no place like London!'

' Mrs. Lovett

A customer!
Wait! What's your rush?
What's your hurry?
You gave me such a...
fright! I thought you was a ghost!
Half a minute, can't ya sit?
Sit ya down!
Sit!
All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer for weeks.
Did ya come here for a pie, sir?
Do forgive me if my head's a little vague.
Ugh!
What is that?
But you'd think we had the plague.
From the way that people
keep avoiding!
No you don't!
Heaven knows I try, sir!
But there's no one comes in even to inhale!
Right you are, sir, would you like a drop of ale?
Mind you I can hardly blame them!
These are probably the worst pies in London.
I know why nobody cares to take them!
I should know!
I make them!
But good? No...
The worst pies in London...
Even that's polite! The worst pies in London!
If you doubt it take a bite!

Sweeney Todd (spoken)

Ugh!

Mrs. Lovett (sung)

Is that just, disgusting?
You have to concede it!
It's nothing but crusting!
Here drink this, you'll need it.
The worst pies in London
And no wonder with the price of meat
what it is
when you get it.
Never thought I'd live to see the day.
Men'd think it was a treat
findin' poor
animals
what are dyin' in the street.
Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop.
Does a business, but I notice something weird.
Lately, all her neighbors cats have disappeared.
Have to hand it to her!
What I calls,
enterprise!
Poppin' pussies into pies!
Wouldn't do in my shop!
Just the thought of it's enough to make you sick!
And I'm telling you them pussycats is quick.
No denying times is hard, sir!
Even harder than the worst pies in London.
Only lard and nothing more-
Is that just revolting?
All greasy and gritty?
It looks like it's molting!
And tastes like...we'll pity.
A woman alone...with limited wind
And the worst pies in London!

Ah sir, times is hard,
times is hard...'

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I was going back through my posts, adding tags and whatnot, when I noticed this one and was all...omg...I never posted it! Just a draft! Tsk tsk, bad me!

~ShaedowDancer~

What's the colour of a two cent coin?

(sung to the theme of 'camptown racetrack')

Coppa....coppa...

Clad in blue and in pairs they roam; Oh the two cent coin!

It's funny y'know, the amount of two cent coins that wander around train stations as the sun is going down/after it has set. You'd think they'd be around more during peak, when y'know, people can steal handbags and the like easier. But no, places where you're lucky to see TWO, you see eight at 9.30pm where there is like NO ONE AROUND.

But hey, it's all good.

Oh! Uni. I am having a BLAST. It is so much fun ^_^ Fair enough we haven't done anything much yet, and I've seen the course doohickies...outlines, for two subjects, essay in week four, report in week six, another essay in week eight, and week ten, and a report in week....sometime after that XD

Um...Oh! I got a couple of books for my courses, and four ringbound -- you know the sort with a wire forming the 'rings' and working its way down the spine of the book? -- notebooks and three pens. Damage? $145 all told. Only $25 was for the notebooks and the pens. -_- this is for ONE subject mind, and not even all of the books for one of them! ...well, two and a half subjects then.

Tomorrow is a horrible, horrible day. My first class starts at 9.30am. Do you know what that means? That means that I have to get up at 6 IN THE FREAKING MORNING to get there on time! Considering that I have been late for the start of all my classes so far....this is not looking good people.

And I've so far found Uni to be way EASIER than highschool, even my final two years when there's all this stress and stuff to perform. Sure, sometimes the times suck royally, but I'm only there for an average of....what, 3 hours a day? Four hours travel time for three hours of lecture...bleh...but seriously. You get BREAKS in the middle of the lecture! And they rarely (so far) haven't completely filled up all the time, we get to leave 15, 10, minutes before time, have a drink, a quick snack, and then onto the next part or go home! It's absolutely WONDERFUL. I <3 university ^_^ (college, for you yanks)

Moonshine...

It's a late night,
late in the moonshine,
too late for sunshine
I fear.

It's a dark time,
dark in the starlight,
dark in the moonlight,
too dark to see.

Silent shine,
shimmer and glow,
cover the now
in moonshine.

It's a dark night,
a lack of moonlight,
a hint of starlight,
hiding below.

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Lets all cheer for a super-short poem from Yours Truely. It is...1.05am and I really should be sleeping, instead I am typing up a post on my blog, my mind is spinning with half formed thoughts of what to say -- maybe I shouldn't have had an iced coffee before working tonight -- and it takes real effort to -- did you know that I like flying? there's something effortless about gliding through the air, no friction, no resistance like you get from the hard ground -- keep what I'm saying coherent. Or even mostly.

At work tonight -- because over the last three days I've had a grand total of seven hours sleep -- well, more before work, I had an iced coffee. I'm starting to think that maybe I shouldn't have -- it was to keep me active at work, and now, with nothing to burn off the excess -- think three year old on a sugar high drinking red cordial -- I'm a little bit whacked out. As you can no doubt tell from the way my sentences jump from topic to topic and back again.

Oh, work. Right. -On- track this time >_> --that reminds me of a joke, two blondes are walking down a path when they come across some tracks. One pipes up 'Oh! it must be kangaroo tracks' the other argues 'no, it's emu tracks'...back and forth, back and forth they argue, hours, 'emu tracks' 'kangaroo tracks!' until, while they were arguing, they got hit by a train -- sad fact of blondes really, that I can see that happening. Where was I? Work!

There was me, the manager, and one kitchen hand.... out of about nine people working, that were -not- trainees. Fun fun. I was on drive pack, and the person that was 'helping' me was a kitchenhand getting crosstrained and OH MY GOD was everything slow! It was absolutely horrid! I couldn't concentrate, couldn't focus, and took FOREVER to get rid of cars -- mind you the timer was broken so I don't know how long it actually took -- but seriously! -- did you know that when you're watching the clock, your perception of time changes and a minute -feels- as though it has lasted longer than it really has? -- like watching a pot boil. You know the adage, a watched pot never boils? It actually does, it takes exactly the same amount of time, it just -seems- like forever -- I did it again didn't I? Went off on a completely irrelevant tangent? -- A tangent is a 45 degree angle from the intended path -- oh! oh oh oh!

A friend of mine, who is absolutely brilliant, I think, in the way the genuine intellectuals are -- no common sense what so ever -- managed to fail his English Lit exam. I'm like O_O how the devil did you do that? I was generally lucky to scrape through on 55% all year, and he was up in the 80's+ range. And he -failed-. Got 40% or something like that. How's that for screwy? I mean seriously, GO FIGURE.

In other news, Uni starts on moooonday and my ever so wonderful mother dearest THREW OUT my timetable. Lucky for her, I wroted it down! ...Just not, y'know, -where- my classes are, just the times. Ah well, I'll print out another timetable and staple it someplace so she -can't- throw it out (I'd magneted it to the fridge as IMPORTANT INFORMATION and she threw it out!!!! garrar! alskdfagnawoeiWELFFKASDGNWELASDKFNAGOWESD!!!! Pronounce that ha!

Al-sked-fagna-wo-eee-well-fehkasd-deg-n-welas-duhkfna-go-wes'd.

hehe, that was fun.

I Think I'll stop now, before I degenerate from random to disturbed.