just thought i'd come by today,
to see how you are doing,
a little call just to say,
and to check that you're not brooding,
alone,
like someone else i know.

with an ulterior motive,
this may be awkward, a dangerous climb,
but i need to be forward, this is the time,
my missing link,
you may be the right one.

are you even listening?
your glazed eyes and your pale cheeks,
the silent sighs and reluctance to speak,
make me think,
you may not be home right now.

my hands are shaking,
through the silence you are taking,
to find some words to say.
in an emergence of urgency,
patience mistakens me,
and looks the other way.

just thought i'd come by today,
but i see that you're working,
ring me if you ever have a day,
where you become sick of lurking,
alone,
like someone else i know.


post #500, how momentous!

general rant post

i'm usually pretty good with money, thrifty, stingy, whatever you wish to call it. it's probably because i don't enjoy shopping, especially clothes shopping, and so don't, and the money just sits in my bank account wondering why it was made. but i am quite ashamed to say that i have embraced e-bay, browsing and clicking buttons quickly, making my real money feel like play money that i earned by wasting hours on a couple of online games. and it's basically all anime, which i justify by saying i would buy them here anyway, but for double the price, so i might as well buy two, and shipping is halved for each additional so i should buy any i might want in the future now and thus save more money and oh god i've become an addictive consumer. it's quite frightening, i used to laugh at the girls who would talk about clothing sales that way and i'd be all "spending money doesn't save you anything", "you'll see it next week cheaper". anyways, i got hit by the regret this morning for spending $300 (including shipping) on twelve complete series of different anime, (for 296 episodes, just a little over a dollar for an episode) which is very cheap but also very excessive and i go back to uni next week so where am i going to pull the time to watch them from? gah! i suck. i'm still telling myself i should have spent the money, but i know i shouldn't. grrr. who has a random $300 to spend anyway?

double click, click, scroll, pause. scroll, double click, double click, scroll, right click, click, click, right click, click, click.

Wind-chimes tinged once and then twice, the sound echoing through the dark house. the cool draft that had tickled the hanging, metal tubes danced on Brian's sleeping features. His right cheek spasmed slightly, an involuntary flinch that may or may not have been brought on by the draft itself. It could have, of course, been part of his dreaming situation that his brain picked up and expressed physically. The same notion as a leg suddenly extending itself to stand on a step that only exists in one's mind and instead flailing into the empty space below the foot or a neighbouring object/person causing and jolt of surprise or pain, either way awakening the dreamer. Brian didn't need to worry about hurting any neighbouring persons though, as he slept in the otherwise deserted house. His only companions were those in his head with which he was holding riveting conversations and extravagant dinner parties. He didn't need to be told that he was a little overweight, a little overworked and a little old to still be sleeping alone, because in surreality he wasn't. Something of a social and psychological mutation convinced Brian that he can always dream it away, that if he dreamt enough, the dreams would become reality and the harsh reality would become sleeping hours, the balance reversing itself. He didn't want to remove himself from life, just from his current one of nine to five worthless crap that'd drag on to six or seven or eight depending on which satanic supervisor wasn't on an island somewhere holidaying. He wanted conversation that at least sounded two-sided and views that stretched further than to the bricks of the next building. He wanted to run his hands through grass that wasn't synthetic, and smell flowers that weren't concentrated into bottled and just coffee that actually tasted like coffee. And he could have all that, fabricate it all, live it up in a world where he's the main attraction. A lie that tells third world countries that they're not hungry because they've just eaten. Sturdy tones uttering "keep in mind, that peace is a piece of mind, that war is a mind set, so war is greater than just one peace". A bloated misstatement waddling the streets with illegible signs and irrational reasons. One that screams "we don't need peace because we already have it". A rasping voice whispering "the sun will come out, tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that..."
A tear runs down Brian's right cheek as he opens his eyes and looks into the darkness, he truly understands that he cannot escape, it is what has broken him.

clatter, clatter, rumble, grunt, pause. rattle, clatter, bash, bang, oo, ee, oo, a, a, bing, bang, walla, walla, bing, bang.

i went on a road trip with a couple of buds to yarrawonga (on the border of VIC and NSW) last week, if you were thinking that i just had one of those lazy streaks of no writing for two weeks. i drove my car up, which was very exciting, and stressful, 3 hours of driving does that to me, but it was more like 3 and a half, because i was told to turn left instead of right in the middle of nowhere, and then it was my fault for being on the wrong road to start with (one we'd been travelling down for a good 20mins). but it was really nice a relaxing once we got up there, we managed to get out of the house everyday and wonderful lincoln cooked us dinner every night. joey brought his wii, and we had 4 nds' between the six of us, and uno, scatagories, pictionary and charades from '95 with a good quantity of alcohol to make it all run smoothly. i'd prepared a vodka watermelon, though most of it was alright, there was just a bit too much and one of those "i don't know if i want to be eating this, but i'll keep doing it anyway" experiences. amanda bought us all these one person inflatable rafts which were ab. fantastic, floating down a strip of the Murray then dragging it back up and drifting down again.
this blog kinda feels like a "what i did on my holiday" report for primary school. hmmm... spent valentines up there too, now i've got a mental blank. anyways, hope you're all doing fine and dandy, tally ho!

The Lament of Pretty Baby - Cursive

I saw something I was not supposed to see
A ghostly memory that keeps on haunting me
The kitchen door was open a crack,
So naively we peeked inside

Oh, darling sister, have they hurt you, have they hurt you?
Oh, Pretty Baby, they won't touch you
They won't touch you again
We will fix this incident

I don't want to be seen as a pretty thing
'Cause it's the pretty things that we're always breaking...
And now she whispers into the mirror: I'm broken.

Oh doctor, doctor, can you fix me, can you fix me?
Oh Pretty Baby, you're so naive, but it comes off so cute
We don't want to fix you
We love you just the way you are
The butterfly pinned to the page
The nightingale locked in the cage, won't you sing for me?
Sing for me,
Yeah, we love you just the way you are
Crushed 'neath fashion magazines
Trampled by circus pony dreams, won't you kiss me?
Won't you kiss me

Oh please, mister, can't you fix me, can't you fix me?
Someone, anyone, won't you fix me, won't you fix me?
Oh, someone, please, the moon has raped me
I can feel it inside me
Oh, mama, please let someone fix me
Let them fix me,
Let them fix me,

So cry yourself to sleep
Cry yourself to sleep 'cause I am strong and you are weak
Wait, you are strong, and I am weak
Fuck, just cry yourself to sleep

the last straw hit her like a tree. buckling at the knees, her pretense failed and everything came out. all of the horrible bile that had been burning inside her chest escaped in a sudden, wretched motion. insults and annoyances had matured into elaborate reasons of distaste and scolding words of melted truth. she tried to pick up the last straw again, in an attempt to take everything back, to wear the fake smile again. but she stumbled every time, hindered by the continuation of the unheeding release of fermented emotion. the somewhat guilty party just stared and eventually turned away, this wasn't their problem, what could they do anyway? the final straw disappeared in all of the commotion and she was left alone to sort through and clean up the disgusting remnants. she doesn't carry straws anymore, just glazed, empty eyes, indifference winning over as an easier standing point.

and he just waits, to externally combust, so his outside can be more like a window, and less like a front.

it's funny how you can spend all day dwelling on a feeling, but when you decide that you should try to write it out, it swims in too deep to be caught by words. you sit not so patiently, hands on keyboard, waiting for it to tug on the line and be brought to the surface. nets and hooks can't catch it, minutes tick by and the feeling starts taunting you, visible but unexplainable. like describing a colour...
goodness i'm tired. 45mins spent writing this, writing and rewriting and deleting and rearranging and deleting... seems like such a waste...