So you know how I quite adore impressive facial hair....

stuntman89, you never cease to amaze me

Pick apart
The pieces of your heart
And let me peer inside
Let me in
Where only your thoughts have been
Let me occupy your mind
As you do mine

You have lost
Too much love
To fear, doubt and distrust
(It’s not enough)
You just threw away the key
To your heart

You don’t get burned
(’Cause nothing gets through)
It makes it easier
(Easier on you)
But that much more difficult for me
To make you see…

Love ain’t fair
So there you are
My love

Your heart’s a mess
You won’t admit to it
It makes no sense
But I’m desperate to connect
And you, you can’t live like this

Love ain’t safe

You won’t get hurt if you stay chaste

So you can wait

But I don’t wanna waste my love

Akwardly ever after

I've come to realise that I always have to feel akward. I can't stand being comfortable, I can't stand how bland life is when I know what's happening, I can't ever feel settled. I guess that's why I'm always just that little bit weird, like how I don't mind my bowl cut, or that day I thought it would be fun to dress as a lesbian, or how much I loved it how people hated my red hair.

I can't stand to feel normal, or fully part of the group.

Recently, well actually not so recently, I departed from the longest relationship I've ever been in, with every girl's definition of the perfect guy. I was feeling so comfortable with him; everything was predictable and like our future was mapped out, and like we'd all live happily ever after. I really couldn't stand this, even though it is what he wanted. I'm not proud for how much I hurt him, but I'm not one for subtlety, so when it came to breaking up, it wasn't as gentle as it probably should have been.

In that relationship, which was all predictable and secure and such, he treated me like a princess, like every girl wants (or so I'm told). In a relationship that keeps me guessing, that keeps feeling complicated and exciting, I get treated like shit. The guy will never buy me flowers or write songs, and he will probably cheat on me, then break my heart, and I'll end up broken to pieces.

Why don't guys ever chase me? It is always me doing the chasing. I decided a little while ago to stop chasing, and to let things come to me. So far I'm left alone.

Philosophy Walking

Lately I've become really fascinated by people looking familiar. Have you ever thought that two people look alike, but then told by someone else that they look nothing like each other?

How do our brains discern between similarities in people's features? Do they have like markers that match or don't match up, depending on the overlap?

I'd really love to find a research paper on this, it is captivating.

Deary me

The wife of a north Queensland politician is learning the perils of ill-considered Facebook postings.

Townsville City Council deputy mayor’s wife Tegan Crisafulli labelled the people of Mackay ‘‘ugly’’ and ‘‘freaks’’ after attending an Amateur Cup race meeting on Saturday.

In a return spray Mackay Amateur Race Club president Kerry Woodman has suggested Ms Crisafulli may have had her ‘‘Carlton beer goggles’’ on, the Mackay Mercury reports.

On Sunday Ms Crisafulli posted on Facebook that she’d had a great day.

‘‘I still can’t believe how many freaks were there,’’ she continued.

‘‘I’ve never seen so many ugly people in the same place at the same time.’’

Ms Crisafulli even suggested a photographic competition to decide on the ugliest person at the race meeting.

Her comments drew flak from several who attended the meeting.

Mr Woodman said women there were dressed up and looked terrific.

‘‘Maybe she was looking through her Carlton beer goggles because from what I saw on Saturday the women looked spectacular,’’ Mr Woodman said.

Ms Crisafulli told her local newspaper in Townsville the comments were light-hearted, and her husband, David, supported her, although questioning her judgment.

‘‘She wakes up beside me every morning and my head is rougher than anything I saw on that day,’’ the deputy mayor said.

Ahh, watch what you say.

I before E, except after C

A woman, without her, man is nothing.

A woman, without her man, is nothing.

Punctuation and spelling are important! I'm starting to get really freaked out at the sheer number of people who still can't use English properly. It reminds me of the girl who came into work one day, with a massive tattoo of a bird on her back, about A4 size, with writing around it that says "Your the wind beneath my wings". Perhaps tattoo artists, and the people getting tattooed, should spell-check anything, before it is emblazoned across their skin forever.

Consider my day made.

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/

This blog is absolutely hysterical.

I can't sleep

I'll never be enough for you, no matter how hard I try, or how much I want you.

So why don't I just leave you, and give up?

Oh wait, that's right, I love you. It's all I ever did, and its not enough.

You're the only one I feel normal around, the only one who can make everything make sense. I've got more people around me know than ever before, but I still feel alone.

All I ever do is chase things, but I'm not chasing anymore. I'm here if you want me,

getchya geek on

johnny was a chemist's son
but johnny is no more
what johnny thought was H2O was H2SO4

backflip

I just got an interview with a modelling agency. heck yes.

I've been without internet for a month, but I blogged in my notebook

Picture this:
Jetstar flight JQ889 makes a sharp bank to the left after takeoff, to head in the opposite direction. I notice a small speck on my window, and my eyes focus on the close up object, rather than the full landscape.
Then I open my eyes. I see the wider picture; the layers and types of cloud, the sun, the rivers, the houses.
I'd like to think that looking at that speck was like my life in mackay, and my broader view, with limitless boundaries represents my new life in Brisbane. It's time to change my life, to clean up my act.
I need to be more proactive, less lazy, more focused on the goals I've set myself.
I've made changes to initialise a fresh start; a clean slate: new hair, different clothes, surrounding myself in different people. I need to focus on the big picture, even when the sun hits the clouds and hurts my eyes. Wish me luck.




I'm in Brisbane now, and I love university, I've finally found a place where I really belong. Living on college makes it hard to just be alone sometimes, but I try to make time for it. On one of my so called philosophy walks, I wondered why the english language is so set in stone. The worlds of Science, Medicine and Technology are constantly evolving, as new developments are made, but our language, not slang but serious formal language, remains the same. There are still things the English language can't account for, and it doesn't look like changing anytime soon, or maybe I just had too many tablets for my cold.

fiammifero

So as of today, I've got red hair, very red.

It is so strange, people started making allowance for me, like they were taking pity of me, or maybe this makes me somehow superior/inferior.

Either way, people give me an encouraging nod, let me go infront of them at akward pedestrian intersections or even just plain gawk at me as they walk past.

It feels so refreshing being so different.

I google-image searched 'ranga' and low and behold, the first result was an Indian chap, oh the dismay; I was hoping for a Summer Heights High reference.

I like skirts with frills on them.

Finding the departure gate for the Virgin Blue flight to Mackay from Brisbane Airport was the easier than tripping over while wearing heels on a cobblestone street. I didn't even need to consult my ticket, because it was so blatently obvious by the attitudes, mannerisms and dress of the slumping tourists at Gate 41 were from Mackay.

Don't get me wrong; Mackay is a beautiful place, I just have a problem with the people who live here.

I went to Southbank for New Years Eve. The whole night, I heard one person swear. I saw around ten dressed ick-ily and didn't see any drunken brawls. Take this situation, minus the community-minded and tolerant Brisbane residents, and replace them with people from Mackay. Result : all hell would have broken loose.

People in Brisbane dress so tastefully and well. They actually pay attention to the style, colour, cut, and look of their clothes, and generally don't turn out looking foul. Why is this never the case in Mackay?

My theory has alot to do with respect. In Brisbane, children are brought up to respect their elders, environment, friends, family, and most of all, themself. In Mackay, everyone simply expects and assumes that no-one else has respect for them, and as a result, we're left with tumbling litter, drunken violence in public and an extremely profitable franchise of Supre.

I don't mean to sound cynical, I don't mean to seem like a snob, but seriously, wake up.

four seven four oh!

Thanks to Urban Dictionary, I found quite possibly the best description of Mackay that I could ever dream of(look down at the bit in italics).
This town (no, it isn't a city; there isn't a cathedral) is by large, devoid of culture, creativity and tact. Society has become similar to a strict religious cult, with most people adhering to a uniform of sorts, depending on their age group. A group of friends will more than likely have the same hairstyle, makeup, brands of clothes, fashion, mobile phones, iPods, sometimes even shoes and cars. There is no air of diversity whisping through the minds of Mackay youth; no one wants to look different and no one wants to stand out. No one wants to take that leap of faith and actually make a decision for themselves, and instead turn to the rest of the followers for what would be the accepted thing to do in a particular situation. This lack of ability to make individual decisions leaves society lacking any individual morals or ethics. This has snowballed into a youth culture which feels it is acceptable for people to just follow everyone else, and drink until you pass out every weekend, not to mention the drug culture which is due to an increase in disposable income, in an already high socio-economic area.
Mackay lives for the weekend.
When the weekend comes, it tries as hard as it possibly can to kill itself.


Mackay
A town in north Queensland filled with whingers that fall under the following categories : Rich miners, Hard-done-by farmers, Intoxicated Truck drivers, Shallow women (ie miners, farmers and truck drivers wives) and residents who secretly wish they could be one of these, but can't so they whinge even more. The most common form of whinging is done via text message to the local paper.
Girl: Hi fellow mackay resident, what do you do for a living, want to go out?
Boy: I am a farmer that drives trucks at the mines who enjoys working under the influence and I also like to send whinging sms's into the local paper.
Girl: Oh wow. I am a shallow, materialistic, money obsessed attention seeker!
Boy: Awesome, we are perfect for each other
Girl: Yay.

we are the sound

I love sound.

I am fascinated with its power to connect people.

I am captivated how something with no mass, physicality or tangibility can hit people with such force, like when you feel the bass pumping in your chest, or when you press a sub up against a wall and can feel it at the other end of the house.

The only reason I've ever enjoyed being in a church is at a cathedral, when the acoustics have been so beautifully planned that any sound saturates your body and immediately, your mood changes.

I love how sound can change a mood.

Just this morning I was so moved by a song that I completely broke down. Just one song. The sound of sadness.

Just last night, the music made me so fucking happy that I couldn't keep the smile off my face. The sound of love.

Just last week, the music was so loud, I could feel it ringing in my ears, but yet it wasn't hardcore or rock, it was an age old song on bagpipes. (I'm a highland dancer okay). The sound of pride.

this time baby, I'll be bulletproof

I'm falling yet again.

I hope I dont get hurt this time, I hope I'll be ok.
I hope this will be as good as it seems, in every single way.

Space your Aero

i'll thumb your tack in a minute if you're not careful

eeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
Brooke forgot to blog for a while there
I was busy at work, getting harassed by customers, only to get the minimum wage.
For future reference:
1. It is NOT OKAY to greet the me with "hello tiger". I don't care how much fun you're having 'on the prowl', just don't do it.
2. It is NOT OKAY to try and hold my hand as I give you change. ew.
3. It is NOT OKAY to ask me if I know your grandson, or if i'm interested in meeting him. I only work at the shop, I myself am not for sale.
4. It is NOT OKAY to find out when I finish work and wait out front in your convertible with the top down, as the wind whistles over the liverspots on your balded head, and ask if I want a ride home.


With that out of the way, my doily dress a little over half done. Sorry to anyone else in Mackay who went thrifting to buy doilies, there are none left after I've been on a mission. Oh wait, maybe you wouldn't know my plan.
Op shop ball is coming for St Pats (I know, I shudder too when I read St Pats) and I wanted to go a step further than the usual 80's shoulder pad dress, because I bought my formal dress from salvation army for $4.50 (nothing like a half price sale at a thrift shop). Instead, I'm making a dress out of doilies. epic win.

You Had Me @ Hello

So there's this boy. Let's call him @.
I love @, and have done so for some time. However, I'm not dating @, I'm not his girlfriend, he has no commitment to me.
When I'm with @, it feels like nothing in the world could go wrong, but lately i can feel my chances with him slipping through my fingertips like a japanese silk scarf. Have you ever held Japanese silk? It feels like nothing. I'm beginning to notice that my relationship with @ really is silk; its nothing.
It kills me to feel this distant from the one I love, when he is so close.