Have you ever thought about what drives two people together?
They say that opposites attract, a fatal attraction; two extraordinarily different people. His shy nature rocked her boat of unsinkable confidence.
I was thinking about this, and realised that similarities play just as significant a role in relationships. What about two people drawn together by their desperation, lonelines, and a shared longingness to feel loved?
Sure, opposites are great. What one person has a passion for, is able to share with someone who has never experienced such a joy - or bore at that. David's* passion for cricket enabled Jill* to learn the ropes of such a game, and found that she, too enjoyed it. Through watching the games on television together, and occasionaly witnessing them live as a couple, David* and Jill* created a tradition for years to come. That was until they broke up. David's* new girlriend Fiona* took no interest in cricket, knew how much it meant to him, and didn't take it personally when he was too consumed in the game for kissing and hugging.
On the off-hand, similarities can be just as disastruous as in-breeding. As most people are aware, similar DNA - like those common within a family, when bred, carry the complicatins of deformities in the new born. In the same way, a little something called compromise would be foreign to a stubbourn couple, where each party wants things done their way.
Desperation for appreciation, love, company or even sex are not legitimate reasons to engage in a relationship. It's these insecurities which cause problems later on; they aren't as grateful anymore, they don't show they love you enough, they're no longer around as much, you're not getting enough sex. Still, it happens.
Most cases of heartbreak are self inflicted. Go into a relationship with self worth, self respect and dignity. He's lucky to have someone like you. It would be an honour, not a given if he ever got into your pants. You're too good to be screwed over - emotionally and physically.
Love isn't something you gain from having a boyfriend; it's something that develops: starting with the love you have for yourself. Love your figure and know that someone lucky out there will appreciate them. Love your sense of humour and never let it go, you'll need it to brighten his rough day. Love you for your talents, qualities and abilities because one day you'll be able to amaze him with it. Love yourself because you don't throw yourself at anything with a dick and moves, because you're just the kind of girl he'll want to take home to his parents.
Call me naive, but it's no wonder people feel unmotivated, suicidal, meaningless, insignificant and empty without a boyfriend. They're looking for happiness in all the wrong places.
In this case, opposites repel. Someone clingy and protective is anything BUT attractive to someone outgoing, self motivated and has a zest for life.
I found that the best kind of relationships are those with enough enough similarities to establish a sense of being able to relate, and enough opposites to avoid the feeling that you're dating the male version of yourself.
Thursday, 26 January 2006
Sunday, 22 January 2006
Inside the mind of a nerd
I can't wait until the commencement of school. Hey, at least I'm honest about it.
I love this season; post-Christmas and kind of pre-Easter. It's that time of year when 90% of advertisements are chock-a-block full in promoting back-to-school sales.
I've had more than six weeks to miss the company of all my friends, bumping into them in shopping complexes aren't the same as that huge get together at school, passing notes during class about the what's ups for the coming weekend, picking at each others food during recess and desperate late night pleas for help with homework.
Today I had the joy of purchasing brand new stationary. There's nothing like a brand new packet of 20 kilometrico pens to inspire you in putting pen to paper, and handwriting the school year away.
And the good news is, my new purchases are right where I left them - in my pencil case; not borrowed and not returned. That won't be for long though. I went through an umpteenth number of pens in my schooling years. Hollywood should make a documentary: "The Secret Life of Pens Gone Missing".
My "spend less money" new years resolution isn't working. During these holidays I've been spending every cent I earn. See, that's what happens when I don't have assignments to distract me. I buy more clothes than the number of times I actually go out to wear them. Life was somewhat better when my mum kept my keycard.
Too much thinking, not enough time to write about them...but in short...
It's funny how some things never change. It's funny how people change. It's funny how things in life work out. Life, overall, is funny. Both ha-ha funny and that peculiar sort of funny.
What's love? We all have our own standards and definitions of it.
Like the 'ideal' size 6, tall legged, immaculate supermodels - we as society tend to conform to the ultimate image of things. But as (I hope) we all know, curves are beautiful, feminine and sexy. Just look at Beyonce Knowles, now there's a woman who knows what's good for her.
In the same respect, we all tend to aim for the fairytale definition of love: a tall dark and handsome knight in shining armour to sweep you off your feet. And unless he's as romantic as Noah from The Notebook, to risk his life hanging off the top of a ferris wheel, or renovate an old run down thing that looked like something from a horror movie into your dream home, with white shutters and a red door - that it isn't love.
Beautiful might be a size 14 with hyptnotizing eyes. Beautiful might be average height with aristocratic cheekbones. Love might be the longing for someone when they're gone, and the time that flies by too quickly when you're together. Love might be as simple as a glance while they walk past you.
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then love is whatever YOU make it to be. Nobody can tell you otherwise, it's nor right or wrong, it just IS.
I love this season; post-Christmas and kind of pre-Easter. It's that time of year when 90% of advertisements are chock-a-block full in promoting back-to-school sales.
I've had more than six weeks to miss the company of all my friends, bumping into them in shopping complexes aren't the same as that huge get together at school, passing notes during class about the what's ups for the coming weekend, picking at each others food during recess and desperate late night pleas for help with homework.
Today I had the joy of purchasing brand new stationary. There's nothing like a brand new packet of 20 kilometrico pens to inspire you in putting pen to paper, and handwriting the school year away.
And the good news is, my new purchases are right where I left them - in my pencil case; not borrowed and not returned. That won't be for long though. I went through an umpteenth number of pens in my schooling years. Hollywood should make a documentary: "The Secret Life of Pens Gone Missing".
My "spend less money" new years resolution isn't working. During these holidays I've been spending every cent I earn. See, that's what happens when I don't have assignments to distract me. I buy more clothes than the number of times I actually go out to wear them. Life was somewhat better when my mum kept my keycard.
Too much thinking, not enough time to write about them...but in short...
It's funny how some things never change. It's funny how people change. It's funny how things in life work out. Life, overall, is funny. Both ha-ha funny and that peculiar sort of funny.
What's love? We all have our own standards and definitions of it.
Like the 'ideal' size 6, tall legged, immaculate supermodels - we as society tend to conform to the ultimate image of things. But as (I hope) we all know, curves are beautiful, feminine and sexy. Just look at Beyonce Knowles, now there's a woman who knows what's good for her.
In the same respect, we all tend to aim for the fairytale definition of love: a tall dark and handsome knight in shining armour to sweep you off your feet. And unless he's as romantic as Noah from The Notebook, to risk his life hanging off the top of a ferris wheel, or renovate an old run down thing that looked like something from a horror movie into your dream home, with white shutters and a red door - that it isn't love.
Beautiful might be a size 14 with hyptnotizing eyes. Beautiful might be average height with aristocratic cheekbones. Love might be the longing for someone when they're gone, and the time that flies by too quickly when you're together. Love might be as simple as a glance while they walk past you.
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then love is whatever YOU make it to be. Nobody can tell you otherwise, it's nor right or wrong, it just IS.
Tuesday, 10 January 2006
BE. Clear & Simple.
They say that love is blind, a feeling not seen, but felt.
If that is the case, when you love someone you provide some sort of fulfilment, satisfaction, happiness and a sense of meaning to life; that all the material objects in the world, combined, cannot offer.
Love is not devouring the Swiss Belgium chocolates your partner gave on Valentines Day. Nor is love the teddy bear that you enclose in your arms, in the absence of that special someone.
Gifts are merely symbols, signifying the bond between two people; a fondness if harboured correctly, once created cannot be detroyed. That's my interpretation of "true love never dies". It may change form, such as hatred, friendship or bittersweet memories; but it happened and it's always there.
Although unspoken, it has become a well respected accord on both sides of the Love Battlefield that when the fighting, accusations, screaming, tearshed and hating-of-guts have occured one too many times - it's time objects symbolising the relationship between you and whats-his-face are annihilated. This speeds up the get-over-him process... but what goes up too quickly must come down eventually.
After all has been said and done, ater the disposing of gifts too painful to look at, after returning his belongings, after burning the photographs and the letters, after deleting his number from your phone... ONE thing remains.
Like the ashes left behind from a raging fire, it's the memories that float around - the products of something once fervid. One may find these memories a detriment from moving on, or a realisation that the sparks are still there.
A relationship held together by endowment can be taken away easier than it is given. If you're only going to shower her with presents, she needs only to dispose of those presents before she moves on. Give her something she can't just throw away.
Guys, we're not complicated. That's some horrible folk tale that's been retold for generations. You don't need a university degree in Relationships For Dummies to figure us out. Simply: talk to her, respect her, make her laugh, make her smile, appreciate her; and do it like you mean it. Ask nothing of her but to be herself. Do it because making her happy makes you happy.
Among many things, it's hard to forget the way you give in to pointless arguments so that we get the last word; as women, we live off moments like these. It's hard to forget the way you look when you're falling asleep. It's hard to forget the hours spent talking about sweet nothings. Actually, all of that was an understatement. It's IMPOSSIBLE to forget.
It's the simple things in life we overlook.
It's the little things that make a big difference.
It's the small things that are easiest to give, yet the hardest to let go.
If that is the case, when you love someone you provide some sort of fulfilment, satisfaction, happiness and a sense of meaning to life; that all the material objects in the world, combined, cannot offer.
Love is not devouring the Swiss Belgium chocolates your partner gave on Valentines Day. Nor is love the teddy bear that you enclose in your arms, in the absence of that special someone.
Gifts are merely symbols, signifying the bond between two people; a fondness if harboured correctly, once created cannot be detroyed. That's my interpretation of "true love never dies". It may change form, such as hatred, friendship or bittersweet memories; but it happened and it's always there.
Although unspoken, it has become a well respected accord on both sides of the Love Battlefield that when the fighting, accusations, screaming, tearshed and hating-of-guts have occured one too many times - it's time objects symbolising the relationship between you and whats-his-face are annihilated. This speeds up the get-over-him process... but what goes up too quickly must come down eventually.
After all has been said and done, ater the disposing of gifts too painful to look at, after returning his belongings, after burning the photographs and the letters, after deleting his number from your phone... ONE thing remains.
Like the ashes left behind from a raging fire, it's the memories that float around - the products of something once fervid. One may find these memories a detriment from moving on, or a realisation that the sparks are still there.
A relationship held together by endowment can be taken away easier than it is given. If you're only going to shower her with presents, she needs only to dispose of those presents before she moves on. Give her something she can't just throw away.
Guys, we're not complicated. That's some horrible folk tale that's been retold for generations. You don't need a university degree in Relationships For Dummies to figure us out. Simply: talk to her, respect her, make her laugh, make her smile, appreciate her; and do it like you mean it. Ask nothing of her but to be herself. Do it because making her happy makes you happy.
Among many things, it's hard to forget the way you give in to pointless arguments so that we get the last word; as women, we live off moments like these. It's hard to forget the way you look when you're falling asleep. It's hard to forget the hours spent talking about sweet nothings. Actually, all of that was an understatement. It's IMPOSSIBLE to forget.
It's the simple things in life we overlook.
It's the little things that make a big difference.
It's the small things that are easiest to give, yet the hardest to let go.
Sunday, 1 January 2006
New Year. New Start. New You.
H A P P Y N E W Y E A R !
A few reminders your mothers have probably nagged you about for years, that I thought I'd repeat...
* Start small... think big.
* Don't underestimate the importance of a little R&R (rest and recreation).
* Before you reach for that packet of chips, block of chocolate, serving of ice cream or piece of cake - ask yourself why?
If it's because you're upset or bored: close the fridge and open your mind - in finding other ways of postponing your problems or passing the time.
* Laughter IS the best medicine. Laughing activates your immune system which helps fight infection.
* Do yourself a favour and have breakfast EVERYDAY.
It helps boost your metabolism.
* If at first you don't succeed try again. The only real mistakes are the ones you don't learn from!
Last but not least, I leave you with a quote I came across in Readers Digest (a magazine, I believe is crammed with pagely servings of food for the soul):
"Do I make the world better today somehow, or do I not bother?"
- Tom Hanks
Best wishes, everyone for the coming year. Make the next 365 days count!
Love Noeline
xox
A few reminders your mothers have probably nagged you about for years, that I thought I'd repeat...
* Start small... think big.
* Don't underestimate the importance of a little R&R (rest and recreation).
* Before you reach for that packet of chips, block of chocolate, serving of ice cream or piece of cake - ask yourself why?
If it's because you're upset or bored: close the fridge and open your mind - in finding other ways of postponing your problems or passing the time.
* Laughter IS the best medicine. Laughing activates your immune system which helps fight infection.
* Do yourself a favour and have breakfast EVERYDAY.
It helps boost your metabolism.
* If at first you don't succeed try again. The only real mistakes are the ones you don't learn from!
Last but not least, I leave you with a quote I came across in Readers Digest (a magazine, I believe is crammed with pagely servings of food for the soul):
"Do I make the world better today somehow, or do I not bother?"
- Tom Hanks
Best wishes, everyone for the coming year. Make the next 365 days count!
Love Noeline
xox
Saturday, 31 December 2005
Personality - The Best Acessory
What does it mean to sport a pair of Louis Vuitton stilettos fresh from their latest summer line, in comparison to that of last season Nike sneakers purchased at 30% off? To me: absolutely nothing.
Shoes DO NOT determine the person; nor do clothes, perfume, location or jewellery – pretty much everything visible to the human eye.
A 36 karat gold necklace does not compensate for a cold hearted soul. An Oroton wallet does not compensate for a selfish obsession with brand names. Not everyone is as free-flowing as the Lisa Ho dress featured in Madison magazine.
If only we were as natural as Mount Franklin spring water. If only.
Drinking Coca Cola will, before finishing the entire contents of the can, turn you into the goddess of confidence who spends most of her time flirting with boys on the beach. Wearing a Mossimo outfit makes standing in a filth-ridden alley way, massed with graffiti and broken down buildings look good. Who are we trying to kid?
When was the last time you saved up for an item of your dreams and not feel as satisfied as you originally anticipated? Bet they didn't advertise the part about satisfaction NOT guaranteed. Marketing people aren't stupid, they didn't promise it because after all, it was JUST a bracelet, JUST a packet of frozen chips, JUST a handbag and NOT instant euphoria.
Where are the advertisements that endorse a good personality, health and well being? The ones that do exist, though, are lost in between pages promoting the newest mobile technology to change your life, and your how-to step by step guide on the new diet craze to sweep Hollywood of its feet.
Social status only gets you so far. Ultimately, we are all victims of the same time frame, blessed with 24 hours in our day – whether you make them count or not is a different story. We all breathe the same air – spoiled by the same case of global warming. We all have the same fate – death.
These points should be enough to make any sane person open their eyes and see the human race as equal. But it's not. Why? Is it because we're all at least a little bit insane?
Insecure? Indecisive. Insensitive? Indeed.
We're losers to our own game. Upon finally owning the new house, the new car, the new job – we're anything BUT satisfied. We want more. We want the new house with servants and a tennis court – event hough you HATE tennis. We want the new car with rims and the finest quality sound system, fit for 50 cent, dawg. We want to be our own boss to a million dollar empire.
Beauty is a curse on the world that stops us from scratching the surface. All we see is dirt and rubble, not the fortune of gold that lies beneath.
We've built up an appetite for material things, accepting them as substitutes for areas of emptiness in our life. Nothing beats the feeling of helping a stranger. Nothing passes the time better than spending it with people who accept you just as you are, and wouldn't change a thing. Nothing makes you rest easier than going to sleep at night knowing you made a difference in someone else's life.
As my favourite author, Mitch Albom once said: "Devote yourself to something that gives you purpose and meaning". Devote yourself to one or many things, temporarily or permanently.
I devote myself to being positive so that those around me don't have to put up with someone who seems to wake up on the wrong side of the bed everyday. I devote myself to doing fairly well in my studies so that my mother, who raises three children on her own, doesn't feel that her hard earned money to support our education is going to waste. I devote to being a good sister so that my brothers have something worth looking up to. I devote myself to submitting hopefully meaningful critiques so that while I'm exercising my joys for writing, others benefit also. I devote myself to serving God because what you give, you get back tenfold; it's a win win situation.
Know that there's more to life than being the number one fashion brand name victim. It's not what you wear, and it's not how you wear it either – it's what you do while wearing those clothes that makes a REAL difference.
Wake up and smell the roses, then kick off the shoes and feel the sand between your toes!
Shoes DO NOT determine the person; nor do clothes, perfume, location or jewellery – pretty much everything visible to the human eye.
A 36 karat gold necklace does not compensate for a cold hearted soul. An Oroton wallet does not compensate for a selfish obsession with brand names. Not everyone is as free-flowing as the Lisa Ho dress featured in Madison magazine.
If only we were as natural as Mount Franklin spring water. If only.
Drinking Coca Cola will, before finishing the entire contents of the can, turn you into the goddess of confidence who spends most of her time flirting with boys on the beach. Wearing a Mossimo outfit makes standing in a filth-ridden alley way, massed with graffiti and broken down buildings look good. Who are we trying to kid?
When was the last time you saved up for an item of your dreams and not feel as satisfied as you originally anticipated? Bet they didn't advertise the part about satisfaction NOT guaranteed. Marketing people aren't stupid, they didn't promise it because after all, it was JUST a bracelet, JUST a packet of frozen chips, JUST a handbag and NOT instant euphoria.
Where are the advertisements that endorse a good personality, health and well being? The ones that do exist, though, are lost in between pages promoting the newest mobile technology to change your life, and your how-to step by step guide on the new diet craze to sweep Hollywood of its feet.
Social status only gets you so far. Ultimately, we are all victims of the same time frame, blessed with 24 hours in our day – whether you make them count or not is a different story. We all breathe the same air – spoiled by the same case of global warming. We all have the same fate – death.
These points should be enough to make any sane person open their eyes and see the human race as equal. But it's not. Why? Is it because we're all at least a little bit insane?
Insecure? Indecisive. Insensitive? Indeed.
We're losers to our own game. Upon finally owning the new house, the new car, the new job – we're anything BUT satisfied. We want more. We want the new house with servants and a tennis court – event hough you HATE tennis. We want the new car with rims and the finest quality sound system, fit for 50 cent, dawg. We want to be our own boss to a million dollar empire.
Beauty is a curse on the world that stops us from scratching the surface. All we see is dirt and rubble, not the fortune of gold that lies beneath.
We've built up an appetite for material things, accepting them as substitutes for areas of emptiness in our life. Nothing beats the feeling of helping a stranger. Nothing passes the time better than spending it with people who accept you just as you are, and wouldn't change a thing. Nothing makes you rest easier than going to sleep at night knowing you made a difference in someone else's life.
As my favourite author, Mitch Albom once said: "Devote yourself to something that gives you purpose and meaning". Devote yourself to one or many things, temporarily or permanently.
I devote myself to being positive so that those around me don't have to put up with someone who seems to wake up on the wrong side of the bed everyday. I devote myself to doing fairly well in my studies so that my mother, who raises three children on her own, doesn't feel that her hard earned money to support our education is going to waste. I devote to being a good sister so that my brothers have something worth looking up to. I devote myself to submitting hopefully meaningful critiques so that while I'm exercising my joys for writing, others benefit also. I devote myself to serving God because what you give, you get back tenfold; it's a win win situation.
Know that there's more to life than being the number one fashion brand name victim. It's not what you wear, and it's not how you wear it either – it's what you do while wearing those clothes that makes a REAL difference.
Wake up and smell the roses, then kick off the shoes and feel the sand between your toes!
Tuesday, 27 December 2005
My Philosophy
Live to no one elses standards but that of your own.
Compare yourself to no one but who YOU were in the past. Don't strive to be anyone but a first rate version of YOURSELF.
S m i l e m o r e. Smile Frown less. Sad
Surround yourself with good people.
Be good to others as if it were the final step towards world peace.
Forget sex, a simple kiss will do. Forget a fancy bouquet, a single flower says it all. Forget extravagant dates, designer clothes and expensive jewellery to make us smile - your presence should do the job. When you wrap your arms around us. When you hold our hand. When you look us in the eye. Sometimes that's all we want, nothing more. Sometimes, it doesn't get better than just that.
Remember that it's the imperfections that make someone truly beautiful; perfectionism is just a figment of our imagination.
Without flaws there would be no compromise.
Know that nothing lasts forever but enjoy it while it's there.
Don't indulge in materialistic things - even that diamond ring is too heavy to take up to heaven with you. Rather, fulfill your life through sentimental means: How many people you made smile, how many people you made laugh, how many times you gave without the expectation of receiving and how many times you put others before yourself.
There are no such thing as strangers, only friends you haven't met yet. Enemies are the result of ignorance and lack of capacity to understand.
The grass is no more greener on the other side so appreciate where you are
RIGHT NOW.
In the situation where a problem arises don't point fingers on who did it or why it happened; only focusing on a resolution will make the problem go away.
Accusations only create more.
If you didn't land your dream job, win the lotto, or if your last relationship didn't work out, sorry honey but:
GET OVER IT!
It wasn't meant to be. The world keeps spinning, the river keeps running and time keeps ticking. It doesn't stop for one second to feel sorry for you.
It moves on, and so should you.
It happened and it was good, but it's God's way of telling you there's more, perhaps better things out there.
Don't linger in what used to be or could have been - like a broken record. Broken records are annoying. And there's a point where even your best friends tire of your miserable proclamations.
Instead, fix yourself up and press play. Make your presence the music to someones ears. Finally, realise that it wasn't you after all - it was the record player that stuffed you up. So yes, shop around and find someone who WORKS for you. It's called compatibility.
Love your family. Like the trackside team to an eager F1 driver at the starting line of a race, it's the family who equipped you for life the best they could.
It's the friends you meet along the way. They may not be riding alongside you forever - but they DID get you further than you would have by yourself.
Every now and then, do something you enjoy - paint, read, go for a walk. Keep yourself occupied and you won't have time to dig yourself into a hole of negativity.
If you don't know something... ASK! He who asks questions is a fool only for a moment. He who doesn't ask questions is a fool forever.
When you say I love you - mean it. When you mean it - show it. When you show it they'll be so convinced you're worth loving back. When this happens, the hard part is to continue showing it. Keep going, ensure that it wasn't an act and that they made the right choice in giving you their heart. As long as you're true to your word you can never tell someone too much that you love them. Don't die with the regret that you didn't say it enough.
If you've been stopped in your tracks on a bad hair day or wearing the daggiest outfit on the face of the earth - look the person in the eye and they won't notice a thing.
Sure, $50 might buy you a night out clubbing with your friends, but
the best things in life are free.
Quite a bargain price if you ask me.
All things happen for a reason. It's only when you stop complaining that you allow yourself to see the reason why.
Don't criticise. It's you mind's subtle way of telling you that you've got personal issues with yourself that need sorting out. It's through criticising people that you make yourself feel better... temporarily. So don't involve other people in your misery.
Dying is easy, it's the living that's hard. So congratulations to anyone reading this, because obviously you're alive. Stay in there!
Last of all, don't mistake happiness for perfection. The Macquarie Dictionary defines happiness as contentment, fortunate or lucky.
Be content without the big house and the big income because you're fortunate to be blessed with good health and a roof over your head. Be happy that you're lucky to be alive.
Compare yourself to no one but who YOU were in the past. Don't strive to be anyone but a first rate version of YOURSELF.
S m i l e m o r e. Smile Frown less. Sad
Surround yourself with good people.
Be good to others as if it were the final step towards world peace.
Forget sex, a simple kiss will do. Forget a fancy bouquet, a single flower says it all. Forget extravagant dates, designer clothes and expensive jewellery to make us smile - your presence should do the job. When you wrap your arms around us. When you hold our hand. When you look us in the eye. Sometimes that's all we want, nothing more. Sometimes, it doesn't get better than just that.
Remember that it's the imperfections that make someone truly beautiful; perfectionism is just a figment of our imagination.
Without flaws there would be no compromise.
Know that nothing lasts forever but enjoy it while it's there.
Don't indulge in materialistic things - even that diamond ring is too heavy to take up to heaven with you. Rather, fulfill your life through sentimental means: How many people you made smile, how many people you made laugh, how many times you gave without the expectation of receiving and how many times you put others before yourself.
There are no such thing as strangers, only friends you haven't met yet. Enemies are the result of ignorance and lack of capacity to understand.
The grass is no more greener on the other side so appreciate where you are
RIGHT NOW.
In the situation where a problem arises don't point fingers on who did it or why it happened; only focusing on a resolution will make the problem go away.
Accusations only create more.
If you didn't land your dream job, win the lotto, or if your last relationship didn't work out, sorry honey but:
GET OVER IT!
It wasn't meant to be. The world keeps spinning, the river keeps running and time keeps ticking. It doesn't stop for one second to feel sorry for you.
It moves on, and so should you.
It happened and it was good, but it's God's way of telling you there's more, perhaps better things out there.
Don't linger in what used to be or could have been - like a broken record. Broken records are annoying. And there's a point where even your best friends tire of your miserable proclamations.
Instead, fix yourself up and press play. Make your presence the music to someones ears. Finally, realise that it wasn't you after all - it was the record player that stuffed you up. So yes, shop around and find someone who WORKS for you. It's called compatibility.
Love your family. Like the trackside team to an eager F1 driver at the starting line of a race, it's the family who equipped you for life the best they could.
It's the friends you meet along the way. They may not be riding alongside you forever - but they DID get you further than you would have by yourself.
Every now and then, do something you enjoy - paint, read, go for a walk. Keep yourself occupied and you won't have time to dig yourself into a hole of negativity.
If you don't know something... ASK! He who asks questions is a fool only for a moment. He who doesn't ask questions is a fool forever.
When you say I love you - mean it. When you mean it - show it. When you show it they'll be so convinced you're worth loving back. When this happens, the hard part is to continue showing it. Keep going, ensure that it wasn't an act and that they made the right choice in giving you their heart. As long as you're true to your word you can never tell someone too much that you love them. Don't die with the regret that you didn't say it enough.
If you've been stopped in your tracks on a bad hair day or wearing the daggiest outfit on the face of the earth - look the person in the eye and they won't notice a thing.
Sure, $50 might buy you a night out clubbing with your friends, but
the best things in life are free.
Quite a bargain price if you ask me.
All things happen for a reason. It's only when you stop complaining that you allow yourself to see the reason why.
Don't criticise. It's you mind's subtle way of telling you that you've got personal issues with yourself that need sorting out. It's through criticising people that you make yourself feel better... temporarily. So don't involve other people in your misery.
Dying is easy, it's the living that's hard. So congratulations to anyone reading this, because obviously you're alive. Stay in there!
Last of all, don't mistake happiness for perfection. The Macquarie Dictionary defines happiness as contentment, fortunate or lucky.
Be content without the big house and the big income because you're fortunate to be blessed with good health and a roof over your head. Be happy that you're lucky to be alive.
Friday, 16 December 2005
Super-update Me
Expect this blog entry to be like that of Streets Rainbow Paddle Pop ice cream - a bit of this, a bit of that, and not exactly the BEST tasting (to me, anyway). My holidays could be described much the same, like ice cream that has been consumed so quickly, that it seems unfair we couldn't savour the taste for just a second longer.
Have you ever looked at the clouds? I mean, REALLY, TRULY, ACTUALLY looked at them? I hadn't, until last week. Remember those holographic Pokemon cards, or holographic Goosebumps bookcovers. Yeaaaah, admit it, they were the bomb first time you laid eyes on such an optical illusion. Well, on that particular day, the clouds resembled something like that. While at the sametime, reminding me of puffs of white fairy floss hovering just a few metres over the errr...biosphere. The night had a beauty all of its own. Driving home, the trees looked like silhouettes against a sheet of deep purple.
They might say that small things amuse small minds, but I'm just observant - maybe OVERLY observant. Better still, I'd rather be on some level of observant than not see the things I'm looking at. Confused? It's like watching a movie but not giving your full attention. Sure, you saw the movie, but you didn't exactly watch it.
During the week the familia and I went to Centrepoint Tower for lunch. One word: Scrumdidlyumptious! Tongue I advise everyone to go there at least once in their life. The views are a tad bit high for my liking, but nothing short of specacular. My cousins (Geri, Jon & Raynald) took a freak load of luvo photos (they should really consider making luvo-ness an Olympic event) and had our full of oysters - taking advantage of the whole all-you-can-eat thing. Jon and I developed a fetish for taking photos of neatly presented desserts. I dunno, maybe it runs in the blood.
Yesterday was Benjo's No Reason Pool Party. Sunny skies. Fried Chicken. Sunscreen flavoured lollies. Coke & Sunkist. A whole lot of H2O...FUN! So much for that 'NO PUSHING' rule they taught us in primary school. We were a bunch of teenagers acting like little kids. It just goes to show that you're never too old to be young. I had to leave early for work. Elle came with me. Another luvo session, this time on the bus.
Today Chester came over. A day well spent considering I thought it would be Revenge of the Boring. Bumped into, almost everyone at Liverpool Westfields.
Other than making you Smile happy Smile , boyfriends are also good for holding any loose papers, your hand bag (until my mum told me to stop being slack), and anything heavy. Of course, my mum would know. Chester ended up carrying two shopping bags of...let's just say fragile heavy stuff. So yes, mothers benefit too.
Chester and I played the good old game of tic-tac-toe. He won twice, the rest were all ties. It was an outrage, for me. Angry
Quote of the day:
Chester: Let's play S.O.S.
Noeline: How do you spell that?
Chester: gasps for air to support his laughing fit
Noeline: I mean, how do you play that?
In case you were wondering, he won another (box) game too. DAMMIT!
Apologies (not really) for all those times I hit you (hard, apparently). Yes, I'm one of those 'abusive' girlfriends. Like Jay and Kyle said, before you know it you'll be on those ads featuring the slogan: Abusive Girlfriends - Australia says NO!
Yeah, and for the record he got his hair streaked a blondey-orangey-light brownish colour. Looks KOOLIES, I rekon.
♫ It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas ♫
I think that most parents are proud victims of festive season syndrome. Mum thought it was time we bought a new Christmas tree with built in lights and stuck on decorations. Its the summer Christmas holidays. Which means a whole lot of getting red/black (depending on how your skin reacts to sunburn) and getting fat, due to all that food and lazing about. Oh well, come school and we'll stress it all out.
I turned 16 three months ago, and unlike other sweet-sixteeners out there, I'm yet to get my L's. There's little hope when I don't know the first thing about driving cars.
More reflective, hopefully inspiring and insightful blogs to come, like the ones you were used to reading before. Lately they've just been about the everyday yarda.
Till then, here's some food for thought I might write about later on, quotes and random stuff I found interesing.
"We all love the idea of being in love. Just the reality of it sounds kind of interesting" Orlando Bloom
Personality - the BEST accessory.
It's called a B R E A K up because it's B R O K E N.
"Baby they build you up only to tear you down" Nelly Furtado
"Too much of a good thing can be bad... less is more" Joss Stone
Have you ever looked at the clouds? I mean, REALLY, TRULY, ACTUALLY looked at them? I hadn't, until last week. Remember those holographic Pokemon cards, or holographic Goosebumps bookcovers. Yeaaaah, admit it, they were the bomb first time you laid eyes on such an optical illusion. Well, on that particular day, the clouds resembled something like that. While at the sametime, reminding me of puffs of white fairy floss hovering just a few metres over the errr...biosphere. The night had a beauty all of its own. Driving home, the trees looked like silhouettes against a sheet of deep purple.
They might say that small things amuse small minds, but I'm just observant - maybe OVERLY observant. Better still, I'd rather be on some level of observant than not see the things I'm looking at. Confused? It's like watching a movie but not giving your full attention. Sure, you saw the movie, but you didn't exactly watch it.
During the week the familia and I went to Centrepoint Tower for lunch. One word: Scrumdidlyumptious! Tongue I advise everyone to go there at least once in their life. The views are a tad bit high for my liking, but nothing short of specacular. My cousins (Geri, Jon & Raynald) took a freak load of luvo photos (they should really consider making luvo-ness an Olympic event) and had our full of oysters - taking advantage of the whole all-you-can-eat thing. Jon and I developed a fetish for taking photos of neatly presented desserts. I dunno, maybe it runs in the blood.
Yesterday was Benjo's No Reason Pool Party. Sunny skies. Fried Chicken. Sunscreen flavoured lollies. Coke & Sunkist. A whole lot of H2O...FUN! So much for that 'NO PUSHING' rule they taught us in primary school. We were a bunch of teenagers acting like little kids. It just goes to show that you're never too old to be young. I had to leave early for work. Elle came with me. Another luvo session, this time on the bus.
Today Chester came over. A day well spent considering I thought it would be Revenge of the Boring. Bumped into, almost everyone at Liverpool Westfields.
Other than making you Smile happy Smile , boyfriends are also good for holding any loose papers, your hand bag (until my mum told me to stop being slack), and anything heavy. Of course, my mum would know. Chester ended up carrying two shopping bags of...let's just say fragile heavy stuff. So yes, mothers benefit too.
Chester and I played the good old game of tic-tac-toe. He won twice, the rest were all ties. It was an outrage, for me. Angry
Quote of the day:
Chester: Let's play S.O.S.
Noeline: How do you spell that?
Chester: gasps for air to support his laughing fit
Noeline: I mean, how do you play that?
In case you were wondering, he won another (box) game too. DAMMIT!
Apologies (not really) for all those times I hit you (hard, apparently). Yes, I'm one of those 'abusive' girlfriends. Like Jay and Kyle said, before you know it you'll be on those ads featuring the slogan: Abusive Girlfriends - Australia says NO!
Yeah, and for the record he got his hair streaked a blondey-orangey-light brownish colour. Looks KOOLIES, I rekon.
♫ It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas ♫
I think that most parents are proud victims of festive season syndrome. Mum thought it was time we bought a new Christmas tree with built in lights and stuck on decorations. Its the summer Christmas holidays. Which means a whole lot of getting red/black (depending on how your skin reacts to sunburn) and getting fat, due to all that food and lazing about. Oh well, come school and we'll stress it all out.
I turned 16 three months ago, and unlike other sweet-sixteeners out there, I'm yet to get my L's. There's little hope when I don't know the first thing about driving cars.
More reflective, hopefully inspiring and insightful blogs to come, like the ones you were used to reading before. Lately they've just been about the everyday yarda.
Till then, here's some food for thought I might write about later on, quotes and random stuff I found interesing.
"We all love the idea of being in love. Just the reality of it sounds kind of interesting" Orlando Bloom
Personality - the BEST accessory.
It's called a B R E A K up because it's B R O K E N.
"Baby they build you up only to tear you down" Nelly Furtado
"Too much of a good thing can be bad... less is more" Joss Stone
Wednesday, 7 December 2005
Don't blame it on the sunshine
My life recently..
My much loved Auntie Gloria and Uncle Jeff touched Australian ground for their month long holiday from the United States. Auntie Gloria is the coolest auntie of the bunch, boasting her iPod – comprising of tunes from the soulful Joss Stone and the super kawaii Gwen Stefani. Uncle Jeff has the warmest eyes I've ever seen; like gazing into an unopened book of wisdom.
Their arrival gives the relatives an excuse to do a little sight seeing them selves. I was fortunate to tag along on one of their sight seeing days.
It was then that I discovered there was more to Bondi Beach than the surf and sand. If you took the time to notice there were footpaths that traced along the coast, and on foot you would find spectacular views that are more than capable of taking your breath away.
I wondered to myself what it was that people thought about as they gazed out into the seemingly endless expanse of ocean. Were they gambling against odds their chances of developing skin cancer as they laid about sun tanning? Most probably not. Were they missing a loved one? Were they pondering the meaning of life? Were they retreating to a place of solace hoping the sea would wash away their troubles?
I know this may sound nerdy but there were little caves formed in the rocks, so far below the surface it went against your imagination to believe the water level was that high, millions of years ago.
We had Hungry Jack's for lunch. Even though I didn't pay for it, I couldn't help feeling odd to think I used to get bags of it for free. After that we had some lip smacking ice cream. Words just can't explain, but it was good!
As if catering to my wishes, we headed off to the art display of UNSW. I love art to bits, but if there's one thing I hate about being in an art gallery: it's that you can't stay in there forever. It's amazing the things a paintbrush and a little imagination can concoct.
Formal was five days ago, memories still as vivid as ever. Everyone looked fabulous. With little expectations, I made plenty of room for surprise. It wasn't great, but it was, nonetheless better than I expected – and that I'm thankful for.
YES, the food was crap and the music was craptacular, but it's the friends that can turn any situation around. It was a night of Kodak moments and lots of dancing.
♫ Don't blame it on the sunshine
Don't blame it on the moonlight
Don't blame it on the good times
Blame it on the boogie! ♫
Yesterday was quite eventful. Kristine, Kathreen, Frances, Carmela and I were so close to purchasing concert tickets to The Backstreet Boys, had it not been for the broken ticket printing machine. It didn't help that all the remaining seats were situated at the back, and our height wouldn't have balanced that set-back.
So instead we headed off for a day of shopping.
A pat on the back to Frances who gave into my friendly peer pressure which caused her to blow her well earned dosh. Thanks to me that convenient yet flashy handbag, black jeans, shorts and bikini are now hers, and not admired from a distant memory like they would be, had it not been for me.
I bought myself black three quarter jeans, a trinket badge and vest.
Here's a little segment of our day...
Two pigeons lay about on the grass of Macquarie Street Mall in a public display of affection.
Everyone: Ewwwwwwwww! Look at the pigeons.
AJ: Leave them alone. They're just making eggs.
Noeline: What?! Do birds lay eggs?
Carmela: OH MY GOSH! You did not just say that.
Everyone (except Noeline): laughs
Kristine: Noeline, what do you think nests are for?
Noeline: Ohhh yeah! Comes to a ground breaking realisation.
After a satisfying session of retail therapy, the remainder of the day was spent at Awards Night. Congratulations to everyone who received an award. I myself received the Academic Achievement Award for Visual Art, Outstanding Contribution to the College Chior and funnily enough - Outstanding Class Contribution in PDHPE. How I managed to get that when I'm absent most sport lessons and suck when I'm there remains a mystery to me. Oh well, a smile and a half from me.
I've ascertained one of life's hidden little pleasures. Put a twist to those milk and cookies and try cholate milk with Hershey's caramel chocolate. It's to die for.
I was watching Oprah today. They were promoting awareness of child sex slavery. If you think it's ludicrous that twelve year old girls are being sold off as sex slaves by their family, try grasping the concept of seven. These girls hadn't even hit puberty yet.
Concentrated in south Asian countries, it is communal belief that having sex with a young girl will bless the male with strength and well being.
Virgins are of high demand. The younger the girl the higher the price. But is ten dollars for oral sex worth defaming the respect, spirit and self worth of a young girl? I most certainly think not.
But get this: European tourists are the top customers of such a service. There is little hope when police and judges are easily blackmailed in releasing those undoubtedly guilty of inhumane offence.
Where's the justice when fifty dollars can buy a man out of years, possibly a lifetime in prison. Where's the justice when fifty dollars can grant these men a lifetime to recommit crimes of child sex slavery.
It made my realise a little bit more how lucky I was. Hopefully you do too.
Shout outs to my G.F.A. (pronounced geh-fa meaning Ghetto Farm Animals) girls! Featuring Frances the pig, Danica the horse, Carmela the dog and Noeline the slut. You've all been so good to me.
A happy birthday to my Westie gangster Kathreen who turns sweet 16 today.
A heartfelt lojevano hug to Vii who is holidaying in the Philippines, I miss you!
Toys: you're a barrel of laughs! Thankyou for every single smile and laugh you've given me over the past two months. It's just too bad that I'm so much more mature and intellectually advanced than you. The scoreboard says it all. 16-30. And that's the way I like it!
♫ We've had such a great time in these past two months
I've never laughed so much in my life
It's been all about us...♫
I've decided upon my New Years resolutions for 2006. They are to get fit and take risks. I might look alright on the outside but I'm rotting on the inside. I'd hate to see the state my muscles and bones are in. You know that saying think outside the square you live in? Well I stand firmly grounded right in the middle of that square, just where the two diagonals intersect. Boring much.
Wish me luck, I'll need it.
My much loved Auntie Gloria and Uncle Jeff touched Australian ground for their month long holiday from the United States. Auntie Gloria is the coolest auntie of the bunch, boasting her iPod – comprising of tunes from the soulful Joss Stone and the super kawaii Gwen Stefani. Uncle Jeff has the warmest eyes I've ever seen; like gazing into an unopened book of wisdom.
Their arrival gives the relatives an excuse to do a little sight seeing them selves. I was fortunate to tag along on one of their sight seeing days.
It was then that I discovered there was more to Bondi Beach than the surf and sand. If you took the time to notice there were footpaths that traced along the coast, and on foot you would find spectacular views that are more than capable of taking your breath away.
I wondered to myself what it was that people thought about as they gazed out into the seemingly endless expanse of ocean. Were they gambling against odds their chances of developing skin cancer as they laid about sun tanning? Most probably not. Were they missing a loved one? Were they pondering the meaning of life? Were they retreating to a place of solace hoping the sea would wash away their troubles?
I know this may sound nerdy but there were little caves formed in the rocks, so far below the surface it went against your imagination to believe the water level was that high, millions of years ago.
We had Hungry Jack's for lunch. Even though I didn't pay for it, I couldn't help feeling odd to think I used to get bags of it for free. After that we had some lip smacking ice cream. Words just can't explain, but it was good!
As if catering to my wishes, we headed off to the art display of UNSW. I love art to bits, but if there's one thing I hate about being in an art gallery: it's that you can't stay in there forever. It's amazing the things a paintbrush and a little imagination can concoct.
Formal was five days ago, memories still as vivid as ever. Everyone looked fabulous. With little expectations, I made plenty of room for surprise. It wasn't great, but it was, nonetheless better than I expected – and that I'm thankful for.
YES, the food was crap and the music was craptacular, but it's the friends that can turn any situation around. It was a night of Kodak moments and lots of dancing.
♫ Don't blame it on the sunshine
Don't blame it on the moonlight
Don't blame it on the good times
Blame it on the boogie! ♫
Yesterday was quite eventful. Kristine, Kathreen, Frances, Carmela and I were so close to purchasing concert tickets to The Backstreet Boys, had it not been for the broken ticket printing machine. It didn't help that all the remaining seats were situated at the back, and our height wouldn't have balanced that set-back.
So instead we headed off for a day of shopping.
A pat on the back to Frances who gave into my friendly peer pressure which caused her to blow her well earned dosh. Thanks to me that convenient yet flashy handbag, black jeans, shorts and bikini are now hers, and not admired from a distant memory like they would be, had it not been for me.
I bought myself black three quarter jeans, a trinket badge and vest.
Here's a little segment of our day...
Two pigeons lay about on the grass of Macquarie Street Mall in a public display of affection.
Everyone: Ewwwwwwwww! Look at the pigeons.
AJ: Leave them alone. They're just making eggs.
Noeline: What?! Do birds lay eggs?
Carmela: OH MY GOSH! You did not just say that.
Everyone (except Noeline): laughs
Kristine: Noeline, what do you think nests are for?
Noeline: Ohhh yeah! Comes to a ground breaking realisation.
After a satisfying session of retail therapy, the remainder of the day was spent at Awards Night. Congratulations to everyone who received an award. I myself received the Academic Achievement Award for Visual Art, Outstanding Contribution to the College Chior and funnily enough - Outstanding Class Contribution in PDHPE. How I managed to get that when I'm absent most sport lessons and suck when I'm there remains a mystery to me. Oh well, a smile and a half from me.
I've ascertained one of life's hidden little pleasures. Put a twist to those milk and cookies and try cholate milk with Hershey's caramel chocolate. It's to die for.
I was watching Oprah today. They were promoting awareness of child sex slavery. If you think it's ludicrous that twelve year old girls are being sold off as sex slaves by their family, try grasping the concept of seven. These girls hadn't even hit puberty yet.
Concentrated in south Asian countries, it is communal belief that having sex with a young girl will bless the male with strength and well being.
Virgins are of high demand. The younger the girl the higher the price. But is ten dollars for oral sex worth defaming the respect, spirit and self worth of a young girl? I most certainly think not.
But get this: European tourists are the top customers of such a service. There is little hope when police and judges are easily blackmailed in releasing those undoubtedly guilty of inhumane offence.
Where's the justice when fifty dollars can buy a man out of years, possibly a lifetime in prison. Where's the justice when fifty dollars can grant these men a lifetime to recommit crimes of child sex slavery.
It made my realise a little bit more how lucky I was. Hopefully you do too.
Shout outs to my G.F.A. (pronounced geh-fa meaning Ghetto Farm Animals) girls! Featuring Frances the pig, Danica the horse, Carmela the dog and Noeline the slut. You've all been so good to me.
A happy birthday to my Westie gangster Kathreen who turns sweet 16 today.
A heartfelt lojevano hug to Vii who is holidaying in the Philippines, I miss you!
Toys: you're a barrel of laughs! Thankyou for every single smile and laugh you've given me over the past two months. It's just too bad that I'm so much more mature and intellectually advanced than you. The scoreboard says it all. 16-30. And that's the way I like it!
♫ We've had such a great time in these past two months
I've never laughed so much in my life
It's been all about us...♫
I've decided upon my New Years resolutions for 2006. They are to get fit and take risks. I might look alright on the outside but I'm rotting on the inside. I'd hate to see the state my muscles and bones are in. You know that saying think outside the square you live in? Well I stand firmly grounded right in the middle of that square, just where the two diagonals intersect. Boring much.
Wish me luck, I'll need it.
Monday, 28 November 2005
Going to miss...
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!
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, 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.
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