School has kissed goodbye the asses of 2005's year 10 group. We've graduated.
Four years of memories: it saw the tragic end of primary school friendships we thought would last forever, the nervous beginnings of new relationships, compulsory use of school bags that were larger than life itself, dumped with what seemed a plethoral workload, and as we scanned through old camp photos - came to a frightening realisation that we were an oddly clad bunch back then (although at the time we thought we were THE SHIT). Who remembers the year 8 camp where I wore some number tee partnered with a red bandana? (GAG!) Like wat the hell, seriously, who in their right mind would wear something like that?
It's the unforgetably unrelivable moments that I will miss dearly. The detentions we may still think we didn't deserve. The times we'd go into a tying-up-our-hair-frenzy because a teacher was coming. The retarted circles that formed our seating positions every recess and lunch. The canteen food. That melodious bell. Going to sick bay so you could get out of a pointless reading lesson, a cranky teacher, a test u didn't study for or delivering a speech you didn't practice.
To the friends who've been and gone, thankyou for being in my life at that particular period of time. Although not all friendships last forever, perhaps there's a reason why God put us together. To share that one laugh, that one weekend, that one conversation, that one realisation, that one lesson. Maybe it was a little more than just once, and just under a thousand times; our late night rants on the phone may have been reduced to a casual hi and bye - but you're all the product of who I am today.
From arriving at school at the same time, meeting at the same place, and greeting the same familiar faces - we're bidding a sad goodbye to a few, and see you later to others.
Maybe we'll return next year changed. Will we keep the same friends? I wonder. For now, let us enjoy the holidays. Sleep in. Go out. Spoil yourself. This may be the last time we can go about our days without worrying about any assignments or exams. After that it's meeting the due dates of senior school, followed by those of you're university/college lecturer, and finally the annoying demands of your egotistical boss.
Happy holidays everyone!
Monday 28 November 2005
Monday 21 November 2005
Dear Mum
Dear Mum,
You'll never guess where I'm writing from.
I'm sorry. Please don't be angry with me. I admit I was wrong, I just wish you were here to hear me say it.
It was an accident, something I truly regret. Do you forgive me? I know I should have let you know before it happened, but I do love you. Do you still love me?
Do you remember when I was six years old? It was scorching hot outside and you were gardening. You enjoyed gardening. You said you loved watching the Purple Dendrobium Orchid Flowers grow; they were your second favourite. But most of all you said that you loved watching me grow; and that one day I too would grow to be tall and beautiful.
I was playing with my water gun. You were sweating from the heat and looked tired. I thought it would be funny if I sprayed a bit of water on you as a practical joke. With little thought my little fingers pulled against the plastic trigger.
I still remember the look on your face. Your icy blue green eyes were suddenly filled with a rage I had never seen before. I was frozen with terror. My heart skipped a beat, butterflies flooded my stomach, and as my mouth fell open I let out a gasp.
Back then my world was tiny. Having to go to 'the corner' was one of the harshest punishments imaginable. There I would think about what I did wrong, but here in this cold and clammy room it aches to think. At least there I was safe, safe from the rest of world. This Earth really is a scary place.
I wish I could go back, and remain six years old forever.
I turned to run inside, fearful of hearing you shout at me; possibly even smack me. They used to hurt, but not as much as the pain I experience writing this letter to you.
I was hit with a tidal wave of puzzlement when a surge of water splattered across the back of my dress. 'Had I run into a puddle?' I thought.
You wet me with the hose as an act of revenge and was laughing hysterically. I had never seen you so overjoyed. I still remember that water fight as if it was only yesterday.
Now at twenty years of age, I wish I had stuck to just water guns. The assembly of fluorescent coloured fragments brimful with water are harmless, they don't cost lives. Metal tubing and bullets are deadly, of course, I would know.
I wasn't the greatest daughter in the world. Now I realise I didn't deserve a mother like you. I rebelled against you, I'm sorry. I was profoundly selfish. Why it takes something like this for me to change I don't know.
I guess after dad had gone, I turned to the wrong friends for comfort. The sort of 'friends' who convinced me into believing partying, crime, getting high and smoking would help keep my mind away from my problems - instead they only created more.
Of course, I wasn't always like that. You and I used to be close; we would talk about everything till the cows came home. I miss those moments. I would bring home good grades; I wanted to be a doctor, and you believed in me.
A few weeks ago we were arguing. I arrived home at six in the morning with a massive hangover. I stumbled through the door - hair messed, eyes red and on the brink of conciousness; you were sitting down in the living room reading a magazine with the phone close at hand. Before I had time to lie and blurt out a new lame explanation to excuse me for coming home so late, you slammed the magazine down, and I could see tears forming in your eyes.
You started yelling at me. You said that you didn't know the person who I had become; come to think of it, till now, neither do I. You told me I was throwing my life away, that I was better than this, that it wasn't too late to start fresh. Apparently it was best if we moved to another state, new house, new school, new everything.
'But what about me?'. Everything was about me. I was where I belonged, or so I thought.
We argued for ages. For the first time you hit me across the face. I was angry. I don't know what I was thinking, I didn't do it. It was the alcohol, or maybe the drugs.
I retrieved the gun from my pocket and shot you. Everything else from there is a blur. I wanted to wake up and realise it was all a dream.
'Guilty' said the judge in a cold tone. Now here I am in gaol writing you this letter. Maybe this is where I belong.
A creative writing task I did last year. Hope you enjoyed.
You'll never guess where I'm writing from.
I'm sorry. Please don't be angry with me. I admit I was wrong, I just wish you were here to hear me say it.
It was an accident, something I truly regret. Do you forgive me? I know I should have let you know before it happened, but I do love you. Do you still love me?
Do you remember when I was six years old? It was scorching hot outside and you were gardening. You enjoyed gardening. You said you loved watching the Purple Dendrobium Orchid Flowers grow; they were your second favourite. But most of all you said that you loved watching me grow; and that one day I too would grow to be tall and beautiful.
I was playing with my water gun. You were sweating from the heat and looked tired. I thought it would be funny if I sprayed a bit of water on you as a practical joke. With little thought my little fingers pulled against the plastic trigger.
I still remember the look on your face. Your icy blue green eyes were suddenly filled with a rage I had never seen before. I was frozen with terror. My heart skipped a beat, butterflies flooded my stomach, and as my mouth fell open I let out a gasp.
Back then my world was tiny. Having to go to 'the corner' was one of the harshest punishments imaginable. There I would think about what I did wrong, but here in this cold and clammy room it aches to think. At least there I was safe, safe from the rest of world. This Earth really is a scary place.
I wish I could go back, and remain six years old forever.
I turned to run inside, fearful of hearing you shout at me; possibly even smack me. They used to hurt, but not as much as the pain I experience writing this letter to you.
I was hit with a tidal wave of puzzlement when a surge of water splattered across the back of my dress. 'Had I run into a puddle?' I thought.
You wet me with the hose as an act of revenge and was laughing hysterically. I had never seen you so overjoyed. I still remember that water fight as if it was only yesterday.
Now at twenty years of age, I wish I had stuck to just water guns. The assembly of fluorescent coloured fragments brimful with water are harmless, they don't cost lives. Metal tubing and bullets are deadly, of course, I would know.
I wasn't the greatest daughter in the world. Now I realise I didn't deserve a mother like you. I rebelled against you, I'm sorry. I was profoundly selfish. Why it takes something like this for me to change I don't know.
I guess after dad had gone, I turned to the wrong friends for comfort. The sort of 'friends' who convinced me into believing partying, crime, getting high and smoking would help keep my mind away from my problems - instead they only created more.
Of course, I wasn't always like that. You and I used to be close; we would talk about everything till the cows came home. I miss those moments. I would bring home good grades; I wanted to be a doctor, and you believed in me.
A few weeks ago we were arguing. I arrived home at six in the morning with a massive hangover. I stumbled through the door - hair messed, eyes red and on the brink of conciousness; you were sitting down in the living room reading a magazine with the phone close at hand. Before I had time to lie and blurt out a new lame explanation to excuse me for coming home so late, you slammed the magazine down, and I could see tears forming in your eyes.
You started yelling at me. You said that you didn't know the person who I had become; come to think of it, till now, neither do I. You told me I was throwing my life away, that I was better than this, that it wasn't too late to start fresh. Apparently it was best if we moved to another state, new house, new school, new everything.
'But what about me?'. Everything was about me. I was where I belonged, or so I thought.
We argued for ages. For the first time you hit me across the face. I was angry. I don't know what I was thinking, I didn't do it. It was the alcohol, or maybe the drugs.
I retrieved the gun from my pocket and shot you. Everything else from there is a blur. I wanted to wake up and realise it was all a dream.
'Guilty' said the judge in a cold tone. Now here I am in gaol writing you this letter. Maybe this is where I belong.
A creative writing task I did last year. Hope you enjoyed.
Tuesdays with Morrie
Quotes from my favourite book
Tuesdays with Morrie - Mitch Albom
"AN OLD MAN, A YOUNG MAN, & LIFE'S GREATEST LESSON"
"Love wins. Love always wins."
"So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they're doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your lifeis to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning."
"Let go, let the tears flow, feel it completely - but eventually be able to say, 'All right that was my moment with loneliness. I'm not afraid of feeling lonely, but now I'm going to put that loneliness aside and know that there are other emotions in the world, and I'm going to experience them as well' "
"Do you know how they brainwash people? They repeat something over and over. Owning things is good. More money is good. More property is good. More commercialism is good. More is good. More is good. We repeat it - and have it repeated to us - over and over until nobody bothers to think otherwise. The average person is so fogged up by all this, he has no perspective on what's really important anymore... These were people so hungry for love that they were accepting substitutes... but it never works. You can't substitute material things for love or for gentleness or for tenderness or for a sense of comradeship."
"People haven't found meaning in their lives, so they're running all the time looking for it. They think the next car, the next house, the next job. They find those things are empty too, and they keep running."
"If you're trying to show off for people at the top, forget it. They will look down at you anyhow. And if you're trying to show off to people at the bottom, forget it. They will only envy you. Status will get you nowhere. Only an open heart will allow you to equally float between everyone."
Tuesdays with Morrie - Mitch Albom
"AN OLD MAN, A YOUNG MAN, & LIFE'S GREATEST LESSON"
"Love wins. Love always wins."
"So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they're doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your lifeis to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning."
"Let go, let the tears flow, feel it completely - but eventually be able to say, 'All right that was my moment with loneliness. I'm not afraid of feeling lonely, but now I'm going to put that loneliness aside and know that there are other emotions in the world, and I'm going to experience them as well' "
"Do you know how they brainwash people? They repeat something over and over. Owning things is good. More money is good. More property is good. More commercialism is good. More is good. More is good. We repeat it - and have it repeated to us - over and over until nobody bothers to think otherwise. The average person is so fogged up by all this, he has no perspective on what's really important anymore... These were people so hungry for love that they were accepting substitutes... but it never works. You can't substitute material things for love or for gentleness or for tenderness or for a sense of comradeship."
"People haven't found meaning in their lives, so they're running all the time looking for it. They think the next car, the next house, the next job. They find those things are empty too, and they keep running."
"If you're trying to show off for people at the top, forget it. They will look down at you anyhow. And if you're trying to show off to people at the bottom, forget it. They will only envy you. Status will get you nowhere. Only an open heart will allow you to equally float between everyone."
Tuesday 15 November 2005
All the leaves are brown
All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey. It's currently pissing down rain. Ironically enough, it may be because there aint no sunshine when she's gone.
Sucks balls that the smallest things relate back to the last person you want to be thinking about.
What if - this
What if - that
Definitely - over
Maybe - later
Sucks balls that the smallest things relate back to the last person you want to be thinking about.
What if - this
What if - that
Definitely - over
Maybe - later
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