White jellybean liquorice

She's the one who's always there
The one who stands beside
The one who holds the world
The one to whom I confide

The one who waits at the station
For a bus that never comes
She's the one who does her homework and
Who equals me at sums

She's the one who reads my rhymes
The skeptic of them all
The one who thinks twice
The one who wishes she was tall

The one who won't eat apples
To keep the doctor away
Unless the doctor's cute!
Is what she'll always say.

Big Head

It's slowly dawning on me as VCE unfolded to us all; this was all one big competition. Friends turn into competitors in the bid to come first. The awards, the recognitions, the money; all acting as one big facade of achievement and happiness. Not at all. It created a ranking order, a food chain. The unfortunate were spelled under the glory and triumph of a DUX. "Bow down to my strength, my intelligence. Bow down before me." The recognitions also created a black market within a select entry structure. Many passed through the system unnoticed. They fed on the disappointment, the falling of grace of those who were so close but yet were so far. They leeched them dry of hope and spirit, until they fell to a crumbling pile at the psychologists front door step, and someone else stood up to take their place. This repeating cycle rolled through us all, creating waves of power and knowledge.

My brain feels like a slug. Or two.

Today is one of those days where everything feels like an effort.

Your brain feels like a slug and your head is just there and it's really heavy and you don't move it much in case it falls to the side and just keeps falling.

Your eyes are heavy but you don't feel tired. You can't pull a smile even at the hint of something funny. Your expression is the loosest but tightest that its ever been.

Your teeth just sit on one another and if you concentrate your mind on them they actually hurt.

Your arms feel like they're detached from the body entirely. They just hang by your sides and don't do anything. They don't fidget or throw things. They just sit there.

Your legs are just there. You can feel a faint thumping in your foot as if you can feel the blood pushing itself back up the body and towards the heart. Your feet are cold but they're covered in socks and shoes and the room is warm.

The voice inside your head is a deep one.

It tells everyone and everything to go fuck itself. 

If you go to sleep in this state, you'll feel even more tired when you wake up.

I don't like this feeling.

Wishing the wall wasn't green

A friend of mine wrote this. Check out her blog at:

http://randomdoodlesofmine.webs.com/shortstories.htm

Year upon year, in desks we sit

Quiet halls filled with rows of quiet students

Shoe watching teachers

Tear stained papers

And everyone wishing, the wall wasn't green

Times written on the board, getting slashed one by one

The clock on the wall, tick-tock, tic-tock

Pens scribbling, fruiously

Erasers rubbing, vigorously

Staring at the wall, wishing that it wasn't green

The last ten minutes, then five, the one

The sprint to the finish or a stroll to the line

When the teacher calls out, "Stop!" and "Pens down!"

You know you should follow, or shit will go down

And all the while wishing, that damn wall wasn't green 

Your mother loves you

A bicyclist, an activist, a perfectionist, a mate.
A chronologist, an erotist, a conceptualist, one to absolutely hate.
A feminist, an irrationalist, a narcissist, a tipsy plate.
A playlist, an optimist, a revolutionist, a lightweight.
A dentist, an educationist, a paleoanthropigist, an overrate.

Loving from afar

I want to sing it loud and clear,
That this loving from afar,
I don't want this secret;
I want the world to know.

You look the other way
When our paths cross.
I bite my tongue
This loving from afar.

From across the room
I realise I'm just a willing fool;
A confident spark
Burning like an ember long forgotten

So this is how we must remain
Silence is a blessing
Must it be so?
This loving from afar

It shouldn't come as a surprise
With those bright blue eyes
What I'm feeling
This loving from afar

I'm stuck on this plate
That someone spins so wildly
Tipping toppling turning;
You were the clown that stopped me

This loving from afar
I understand.
Silence is a blessing.
It must be so.

Goodbye

The development of artistic flair is an education very few receive but many more could master.

Define 'cringe'

Cringe: The face you pull when you realise someone else in your house drinks straight out of the milk container too.

Figures

I have what he has; a good right hand and an explosion prone tendency that accumulates over time, getting you when you least expect it. What a figure I am to look up to...

When clouds are grey and the sky is grey

I was forever doomed to the shadows of an eclipse before I met you. I turned all those good hearts away, caught up in the darkness that permeated the air around me. I cowered and hid in this world of little consequence.

But you came into my life burning so bright like the sun, taking away all of my shadows and replacing them with the vibrant rays that you emit upon the earth. You are my brilliant star; you are my sunshine.

I cut my hair whenever the depression hits me hard. Bit by snippet, snippet by bit. Using blunt scissors is probably not the best idea, but what's ruined hair to compare against my already ruined life?

The fact that I have to write down that I contemplate suicide at my darkest hours makes me realise the lack of communication I have with others.
How depressing.

The beginning of an end

Basking in victory, he sat, soaking up the bliss and euphoria, oblivious to what he had coming to him.

I never lost.
No-one could take that title away from me.

I filled my expression with as much happiness as I could muster, in the off chance, if there one, that my looking were to be noted, noted it would be that there was no hidden scorn beneath the clever double-facade.

She pursed her lips in thought, considering his endless string of questions; monopolising the situation. Every time she went to voice, shot down she was with another round of questions.

Doll

The sheath of silk brought that hint of lustre to life, leaving behind an image of the beautiful doll to mind, long after she was taken away. He let the fabric glide through his fingers as a single tear slid down his awed face.

He watched her as she stared blindly into the darkness, paralysed with fear.

Blind though she may be, deaf she was well not.

And so there comes the time when the light illuminates the secrets of darkness. Deep shadows are overthrown and eerie is driven away. It is a time of hope, of truth, of revelations.


That time will come, so long as we still want it to.

It wasn't always like this; there once times of other; where dreams superseded reality, and something nonchalant could be mystical.

His eyes danced as he hastily repeated the message to his audience. His enthusiasm was catching, so within mere moments everyone was eating out of the palm of his hand; begging for more information that would momentarily allow them to forget the world around them. Ecstacisity was written all over the group's faces, as if they were the rustling pages of an open book, words leaping from their pages.

A lone gull awaits the slightest disruption of the water, waiting in turn, for its daily catch.

Jetting along was a boat built for speed, disrupting the calm and serene waters until once again there was a silence well beknownst to the locals as the lapping of waves. Peace and tranquility lay here.

The Red Captain

The burning sensation of the blood rushing to your cheeks, as he placed his hand on mine. Some days I think my uncontrollable blushing will never come to an end. But what does that matter? I'm happy, this is my only chance at life, so I'll live this moment like its my last one; there's no time for fear, no time at all.

I smile and push pause.

Christmas comes but once a year...

Christmas is coming. Dreams coming true. Busy days, late nights, though always smiling. The cheer and joy that this holiday season brings, crafts smiles on the poor, softens the cold hearts of the rich. Everything unexpected; waking to the crisp cold air of fresh snow, random acts of kindness...

A season for all to stop and take in their surroundings; don't blink! In a flash, as soon as it started it finishes. The hope and joy of the moment disappears, stored away for the next. Christmas comes but once a year...

Coming of the Seasons

Rain tapping away at my window, luring my curiosity outside into the light snow that leaves behind a glowing blanket. Cuddled up in the warmth of darkness, we drift into a whole new world. Twirling about we are, laughs echoing from our dazzling smiles, leaves spinning softly amongst us. Tread lightly we take care, bending down to smell the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers. Water trickled from our cans on these beauties, as if waves do crash around us. Splayed along the sand lie our belongings, basking in the heat of the day. We splash droplets of water at one another, tipping bucket-fulls of torrents pelting droplets all around us.