Well isn't that a sorry thing when you look back at your last post and realise it was half way through the bloody year. I feel like I have just been spat out of some time vortex where its only been a minute for me yet here we are months on. That vortex in fact was university and it finishes up with my last exam on Monday (can't you tell the procrastination thats going on here?) anyhoo I feel the mood for writing coming on, and what better time, It's 930pm a small candle and an old halogen lamp dismally light my mostly darkened room, a hot water bottle is slipped neatly down my pants (because someone has forgotten to tell Melbourne its not winter anymore) my nose(ical) is at any minute about to snap off my face and new ideas are being to caress my mind softly.... so softly.
More to come....
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Great Day
I achieved today. Got up and walked to the growers market. Had a warm coffee and a bacon and egg roll to start me off, then perused my way through many stalls manned by their very own crier touting the latest specials for the day. Loaded up with fresh fruit and veg and bunch of beautiful smelling flowrs, I headed home. Got my bakers groove on and baked muffins and date and pumpkin scones. Also made a flower garland for my hair. Settled into my warm bed and now listening to the rain on my tin roof.
Awesome.
Pity about my football team, but I guess you can't have it all.
Awesome.
Pity about my football team, but I guess you can't have it all.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
I am the mistake in you, you are the mistake in me, we are the mistake in each other
The broken doll, watery eyes, her delicate skin
Over years, emotion too bold has scratched her paper thin
A soul, in time, blackened with lies and slush
From the very man she thought she would be able to trust
Told to play in the garden, mocking her with this farce
this marks the spot where she attended life class
that between her legs, little cunt, not worth much more
An innocent version now, soon to be someone's whore.
The hatred runs deep and over years, daddy dear
I know I'm not worth more than what you paid for that beer
For myself, be assured, that I won't gamble
or dare to even think, you may be slightly culpable
But appear he did, in an unconventional tide
the broken boy, too,matched my pattern, similarities couldn't hide
I was swept into his soul, a patchwork quilt like mine
the promise of a fix, it would only take some time
I never felt so high, my desperate fingernails clung in cracks and all
So this is what it's like to be free, floating up on a pedestal
the passion, custom cut, soft felicitation
But this euphoric little band-aid covers nothing of the fatal laceration
Foolishness gags me, lies sit heavily on my chest
With one whisper, poison is infected in his breath
holding up the mirror, truth and hope again are torn
the scars reminding me, of nothingness, my skin adorns
You threatened to drain this new life, this cure from my veins
Cannot you then see, that this unlocked insane
He wanted you to feel, I wanted you to see
The crude oiled pain that was infected into me.
But alas I take my cue, and now play out my part
Slowly killing what little left there is of my pathetic heart
The shape of a circle, the message that it sends
Tells me this fiery red hell of mistakes will not ever end.
Over years, emotion too bold has scratched her paper thin
A soul, in time, blackened with lies and slush
From the very man she thought she would be able to trust
Told to play in the garden, mocking her with this farce
this marks the spot where she attended life class
that between her legs, little cunt, not worth much more
An innocent version now, soon to be someone's whore.
The hatred runs deep and over years, daddy dear
I know I'm not worth more than what you paid for that beer
For myself, be assured, that I won't gamble
or dare to even think, you may be slightly culpable
But appear he did, in an unconventional tide
the broken boy, too,matched my pattern, similarities couldn't hide
I was swept into his soul, a patchwork quilt like mine
the promise of a fix, it would only take some time
I never felt so high, my desperate fingernails clung in cracks and all
So this is what it's like to be free, floating up on a pedestal
the passion, custom cut, soft felicitation
But this euphoric little band-aid covers nothing of the fatal laceration
Foolishness gags me, lies sit heavily on my chest
With one whisper, poison is infected in his breath
holding up the mirror, truth and hope again are torn
the scars reminding me, of nothingness, my skin adorns
You threatened to drain this new life, this cure from my veins
Cannot you then see, that this unlocked insane
He wanted you to feel, I wanted you to see
The crude oiled pain that was infected into me.
But alas I take my cue, and now play out my part
Slowly killing what little left there is of my pathetic heart
The shape of a circle, the message that it sends
Tells me this fiery red hell of mistakes will not ever end.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Goodbye Prahran, Hello Abbotsford.
I should be packing. right now.
But of course packing is the pits and so I am procrastinating on the net, oggling other peoples blogs wishing I could write, take photos, style, review as well as them.
Already I have come to the conclusion that I own copious amount of shit that has no real use at all on my life. I sit and wonder how I have managed to accumulate so much stuff in the last 29 years - where did all this stuff come from? You begin life with nothing but your bare naked self and then suddenly you need a massive truck to move all the things you own.
Although moving is.... well..... such a pain in the arse... it is also a time of opportunity. To shed. And be free from everything tying you down. To start a fresh. To lighten your load. I have moved that many times I'm not sure I could even count them any more. I just recently found out from a work mate, as we walked the beaten track towards the coffee shop together, that she has never moved once in her life. Not once. She bought the house she grew up in from her parents. I can't even imagine this - and it scares me to imagine what stuff has not been gotten rid of because of it. I can't imagine living in a world with no new starts, no change, no freedom.
Suddenly the opportunity of moving isn't seeming so bad after all, here's to the next chapter in my life... and whatever that may bring.
(photos of the area near my house, beautiful no? Can you believe I am moving closer to Melbourne city!?)
But of course packing is the pits and so I am procrastinating on the net, oggling other peoples blogs wishing I could write, take photos, style, review as well as them.
Already I have come to the conclusion that I own copious amount of shit that has no real use at all on my life. I sit and wonder how I have managed to accumulate so much stuff in the last 29 years - where did all this stuff come from? You begin life with nothing but your bare naked self and then suddenly you need a massive truck to move all the things you own.
Although moving is.... well..... such a pain in the arse... it is also a time of opportunity. To shed. And be free from everything tying you down. To start a fresh. To lighten your load. I have moved that many times I'm not sure I could even count them any more. I just recently found out from a work mate, as we walked the beaten track towards the coffee shop together, that she has never moved once in her life. Not once. She bought the house she grew up in from her parents. I can't even imagine this - and it scares me to imagine what stuff has not been gotten rid of because of it. I can't imagine living in a world with no new starts, no change, no freedom.
Suddenly the opportunity of moving isn't seeming so bad after all, here's to the next chapter in my life... and whatever that may bring.
(photos of the area near my house, beautiful no? Can you believe I am moving closer to Melbourne city!?)
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Scene 1 take 5, Rolling, Background action, and Action
Well I don't know what you have been doing for the last two days but I have been making some serious coin for sitting on my arse and having a ball with some stella ladies! That's right, I was being an extra... on a pilot for channel 7, I literally was on set for about an hour and a half for each 12 hour day I did. It;s quite and experience and I would highly recommend it if you ever get the chance. It's a whole lot of chaos, a whole load of wannabe's, a whole lot of catering, a whole lot of streamlined jobs (Mr Ford would be proud), a whole lot of gaffa tape and a whole lot of waiting around. Still beats doing your actual real job.
We were in a scene where we were girls attending our 10 year reunion from our all girls high school. It was quite funny to see art imitating life and vice versa. In two days, 50 or so woman had made their little groups and cliques, we all knew who the bitch group was (it was Kate Nielson by the way, the psycho chick who used to date Wayne Carey before she got fucked off her nut and tried to glass him - hasn't she fallen from Grace, although I'm not really sure she had far to fall. One of her croonies seriously looked like a tranny, in was awkward) there was the daggy group, there were the loners, their were the annoying group, and then there was my group.
Kim, a member of this group reckons we were the cool group, I'm not sure about that but I can definitely say that we had the most laughs and cheeky behaviour. We had a freakin ball. Hanging out in that condensed amount of time was like going out together at least 20 times so of course we had got, very quickly to the sex talk and the dirty jokes. We were a misfit type of bunch and I don't think I would have ever met these ladies had I never been an extra. There were 2 ladies with 2 kids, a youth studies teacher, a jazz singer from Frankston, a sailor tatted metal head from Elwood, an International Studies student from Mildura who was having a long distant relationship with a fat frenchman, a quiet but lovely girl from Interplast (an amazing charity that my work actually sponsors) and me.
Anyway if you see a show called winners and losers look out for me and my girls, we are the ones mouthing the words, knickers, pissing, penis, balls, vagina, cunt, fucking in mimed conversations hoping that some sly viewer will pick it up. We are all adults aged 26 and up, but put us together in a school like situation and we may as well have our skirts hitched, chewing gum, hiding at the back of the building, smoking a ciggie (which we also did!) good times.
We were in a scene where we were girls attending our 10 year reunion from our all girls high school. It was quite funny to see art imitating life and vice versa. In two days, 50 or so woman had made their little groups and cliques, we all knew who the bitch group was (it was Kate Nielson by the way, the psycho chick who used to date Wayne Carey before she got fucked off her nut and tried to glass him - hasn't she fallen from Grace, although I'm not really sure she had far to fall. One of her croonies seriously looked like a tranny, in was awkward) there was the daggy group, there were the loners, their were the annoying group, and then there was my group.
Kim, a member of this group reckons we were the cool group, I'm not sure about that but I can definitely say that we had the most laughs and cheeky behaviour. We had a freakin ball. Hanging out in that condensed amount of time was like going out together at least 20 times so of course we had got, very quickly to the sex talk and the dirty jokes. We were a misfit type of bunch and I don't think I would have ever met these ladies had I never been an extra. There were 2 ladies with 2 kids, a youth studies teacher, a jazz singer from Frankston, a sailor tatted metal head from Elwood, an International Studies student from Mildura who was having a long distant relationship with a fat frenchman, a quiet but lovely girl from Interplast (an amazing charity that my work actually sponsors) and me.
Anyway if you see a show called winners and losers look out for me and my girls, we are the ones mouthing the words, knickers, pissing, penis, balls, vagina, cunt, fucking in mimed conversations hoping that some sly viewer will pick it up. We are all adults aged 26 and up, but put us together in a school like situation and we may as well have our skirts hitched, chewing gum, hiding at the back of the building, smoking a ciggie (which we also did!) good times.
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