Just some thoughts

I'd much prefer an apple turn-over to celery and peanut butter, maple syrup dripping from a stack of pancakes, to raw carrot dip plastered onto whole-meal toast.
I'd much prefer fresh carrot juice to a smoothie, a blue heaven milkshake over a cup of black tea.
A glass of water in the morning, not coffee. Fruit loops, not milky porridge. Milky porridge any day, not weetbix.
I usually enjoy continuous stimulation, mentally and physically.
The family around a large, warm-food-filled table, debating philosophy politics and religion, not the feet statued on the coffee table, eyes sewed to the sport on TV, with a pizza at hand.
I like warm lighting and coconut vanilla things. Flowers and soy candles. Thick rugs as you walk in the door, a place to hang a wet coat.
I like, moments that are easily laughed at, the time machine in itunes, writing to do lists, over coming to do lists, the continuous notability of the fact that thought is constantly happening, the fun made in shops, the singing in public, feeling a stretch work.
I like seeing a cake transform. I like not worrying about anything. I like my ability to sleep on things and subsequently losing most, if not all negative emotions towards it. I like the satisfaction of being healthy for a fairly long period of time, and the feeling when you finish that health-kick with a delightfully smooth piece of chocolate cake between your teeth.
I love how a kiss is never the same. I like emails that aren't from petition websites. I like hand written letters. I like becoming closer to people you know but never took the time to know. I like rhyming poems, I really do. I like descriptions. I like being able to experience something of some-what impossibility through a lens.

Old scripts

On our first meeting,my stomach fell twelve floors, and crumbled down onto a block of ice.

________

Down in my toes, they tingle
with the beat of blood circulating, up into my high hopes.
I dance inside my skin at the sight of your name.

I barely know you, but for whatever reason it makes no difference
an explosion escapades from my eyes
A grin against this lit up face

Something tweaks between our footsteps
Something lays in the back of my mind.


________

Blue quartz eyes, stained my green hazel
Ice cotton hair, grazed through chocolate speckled hands.
His skin of white peach, sprung angel coral in the summer.
A tongue of laced rhubarb
Young cherry lips.

Ever- more a letter than a blog post -

Being caught in between, all you wish for and all you've seen.
Will you help me to understand, because I've been caught in between, all I wish for and all I need.
Or maybe you're not even sure, what it's for, anymore than me.



I'll find my way, we'll bask in happiness, because when I opened my eyes and you were there; there was not a single other thing I thought about. You're extraordinary.

Everyone's past effects them, it is impossible for it to not.
I'm hoping, you'll hold my hand and not let go, because all I want is to be with you; there are things I must push aside and accept as the past, and it might take some time, but I just need to know that you'll be here for me, and know I'm in it for you, not anybody or anything else, ever.

It was all a blur,

It was all a blur, but a hot summers day.
I was invited to a park; the field covered in barren, grounded yellow grass and far into the centre sat a house. It was built out of old wood that had chipped in the rain and beat-up pieces of furniture to hold it up and provide bedding and all the other luxuries a shelter would have.
I looked at the two divided parts of the house, there were large breaks in the junk-made walls that would allow wide rays of sun to streak in, or a warm flush of wind.
As soon as my eyes gazed in the house I felt warm, so comfortable; it had the most adoring vibe I had ever felt, it was so relaxed and honest, it was such a happy place. I wondered whose it was.
'Ours' was the word a lanky red haired boy had said in reply to my thoughts, not catching eye contact.
It suddenly made sense why I felt so loved, so steady.
I gazed at my main focus, the reason why I had came; I needed to speak to him, to figure things out. He had said to come to this place, and now I knew why.
When our eyes looked into one another's we knew everything, we understood each other.
In my mind it was clear that the block of land was partially his shared; he had no where else to stay but there most other nights, and it was the reason he had not come and stayed with me, he already had somewhere, and it was with his closest friends.
The group told me and a few other indescribable persons about the joint, it was where they went to get away and live. They played jokes on one another but all in good spirit.
It was all a blur, but a hot sweat in my bed.
I tried to remember the dream for the rest of the day, it wouldn't come to me, but I knew it was important. I searched and searched and did not find it.
I reached the peak of pleasure, and it hit me. The dream blasted through me and let me lay on my bed awkwardly, how was I supposed to react? The person I loved was right in front of me and had given me such happiness, yet the timing was horrendous. Was it just a dream or did it mean something? All I knew is that it definitely affected me, I couldn't really be my complete self after that. I felt terrible that the moment I orgasmed, such thoughts filled my head. what I saw was, for the first time in a long time, me in first person; looking at him in the bungalow he lived in with his friends, and finally understanding.. but consciously.. to this very moment I still haven't the slightest idea what that understanding is.
All I know is that I must contact him and apologise... I need to.

I am sorry and I love you

I want this to go out into the world and reach you; may it heal you and I wish you the happiest life,

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, and I love you.
I love you a lot.
I'm sorry for the way life goes, but everything happens for a reason.
I love who you are.
The rest of the world will love you too.
You will love yourself.
I love you and I am sorry.

Peanut Butter On Toast

Peanut butter on toast; possibly the greatest feeling your mouth can fondle.

Tomato Pasta and Soy Cheese

Oh pasta, what would I do without you? Perhaps a size 8.. but never mind that. You are long and the perfect texture, a brilliant orange and soon you will be the chum inside my stomach.
And beloved cheese.. you never tasted so good in soy; you taste as though you were pumped out of a cow,  made from the juicy green fields... but instead you came from the juicy green soy bean plant.. and then mixed with water, and some other stuff...
But you two delicacies together are better than macaroni and cheese. that is saying something.
okay, you taste exactly the same.. but that too is saying something for soy cheese :D

Whole self

Sitting here, being my completely, whole self.
I can't do anything but write. write and ponder upon old songs I had forgotten the name of. listening to new songs, the ones full of joy and discovery.
Pulling back the blind at any chance, pressing buttons to check for anything other than a missed call from parents, acting completely crazy.
Anything important really isn't, anything that usually doesn't mean anything, does.
I was confused for a moment, for an hour I wasn't exactly sure what I felt.
I'm back in place and can't feel anything but tingling toes... down in my toes they tingle...

Why don't we just dance

Well, it might be me, but the way I see it

the whole wide world has gone crazy
so baby, why don't we just dance?

It was written in a book.
A gold, painted, world-atlas-design, hard cover.
The book was lost, somewhere in her cupboard, beneath old toys, or perhaps it was picked up by somebody, somebody who cruelly refused to own up, or even inconspicuously put it back.
The book contained many of things; but most importantly it held the beginning, and the moment a girl was swept up once again and floated on such heavenly waters.
She was confused to the exact moment, it wasn't as clear as what she had expected, but it was true all the same.
It was summer time, the sun sparkled across his creamy hair and stars shined from inside two small galaxies that deepened into the universe of the brightest blue.
The blue of the sky that afternoon.
The blue of what was the whole world for that girl.
Cross legged they saw each other, for who they were.
Each held a smile; buoyant enough to keep up with the wave of love that swam inside of her.
The girl remembered that moment, and would always remember that moment; it was the moment she saw something indescribable, and felt something peculiarly incredible.
They danced, a lustrous dance

This is a story of a girl

This is a story of a girl

who cried a river and drowned the whole world

and while she looks so sad in photographs

I absolutely love her

when she smiles

They kissed intensely passionately; and then the feeling electrified her.
She felt it touch the tiniest of nerves and spring back through her blood.
She couldn't hold it in, the greatest urge overwhelmed her and she had to express it.

She took her lips away from his and looked up at his large glittering eyes.
"Yeah?" he smiled, mouth shut.
"No, you'll think I'm crazy.." her eyes darted to the poster on the wall and then to the window with the wooden shades down the other side of his bed.
"No I won't. I promise." His eyes were more focussed now, and seemed to see through the girl as if she were a pristine window.

The girl took a deep breath and shyly blurted it out.
"I love you"

The space between them seemed to shorten yet he seemed so tall, too far to hold.

"I don't think you're crazy at all... I love you too"

I'll drink some water.

I can't concentrate on anything.

Queen Victoria Market

The thick smell of hot jam goo-ing out of squishy donuts pours into your mouth.. and then your eyes spot seventy people down the cue, next to the man and the big issue. The hustle and gabbers around mountains of fruit and vegetable; $1 here, $1 there. The tinkering of rain on rocky pavements as boots scuff through, onto laid out cardboard. Bunches of greenery, fresh herbs; the ones you rarely find out of packets, grounded. A bowl of white bread and spoonfuls of cinnamon, fig and apple jam, chutneys and pasta sauces. The floury haze over pumpkin and poppy seed fettuccine, and sourdough bread sitting pluffy in the wooden cabinets. Filo pastry sitting soft and heated with spinach and ricotta inside, steam swimming out of jumpy mouths and napkins slither with olive oil. Figs stuffed with cheese and coconut, honey liquor melting on your tongue and sweet syrup oozing out of juicy dates, straight from the tree. The acai berry man talking about fluoride and water; it is not at all good. and the juice bar grazing your throat with ginger.
Jackets sit high on racks and price tags beam, the hagglers, the schmoozers and the gentle, quiet sellers. Best price and best quality, novelty sport tops and rattling koala bears- to send back home with an Australian woolen fleece. Home made candles and carved wooden blocks to hold the burning incense. Jewelry glitters around each bend, a table just for thick socks and trapper hats.
Bags in each hand, stuffed to the brim with potatoes, pumpkin, bananas, onions. The folded jacket, first quality winter favourite. Three loaves of bread; white, linseed and olive. Fresh pasta, herbs, gifts, empty food containers and wrappers. The boot of the car is filled, our arms relax and we drive away.
A day at the Queen Victoria Market.

Open Your Eyes

Today was different.

I was in new classes, one of which was out of lack of a better alternative.
I spoke to people I hadn't spoken to in months and some even years, I was open to everything that came my way and things started happening. It was like 'Yes Man' but.. not.


PE was my first class; I practically vowed to myself in earlier years that I wouldn't go near the subject once it wasn't compulsory, but of course I found myself in it and picking up everything, going with the flow completely. I was invited to a party during that class, by an old friend who I didn't particularly like anymore. My intuition told me it was because I was walking next to her, and another girl who mentioned the party that got me invited; but other friends were going, I hadn't been to a party in literally a year and I didn't at all care, but it was a shock; I was invited to a social event- weird, but it was opened to me because I stepped out of my comfort zone.

I was moved into a different version of math, one of J's friends were in it. He was the only one I knew, or at least cared to talk to, so I sat next to him and found myself enjoying the lesson. A huge bludge in terms of work and learning math, but I learnt so much biology and our friendship became, more of a friendship.. rather than just being acquainted. It's always been a worry to me that I wouldn't get along with my boyfriend's friends, I would hate to seem like I'm a girl without a personality, sense of humour or brain, yet happens to be with the most amazing person in the whole world. I would seem like a waste. And although it's J's and my relationship, not anybody else's.. it's nice knowing you're accepted by your boyfriend's friends. you know?

I found out I wasn't pregnant. that's always relieving :)

I expected to be late for my next class, I was hopeful to see my new class and teacher, jump straight in there fresh and get top marks. While two students went to find our missing teacher, there were two people left standing in the door way of a highly brightened room. She was a girl I had spoken to in year 7, I'm unsure of how we were friends, or if we were at any point, but I remember speaking to her. She spoke much more than I expected and the more she did the more her face seemed to deepen. She was a plain girl initially, thick orange curls clumped on her shoulders, glasses and an unexpected, relatively high-pitched voice. She was a lot more confident than any of her friends(the ones I knew anyway), conversation followed us until we reached our lockers once told our teacher really wasn't coming.
I was going to meet new people, I could tell.

I hopped on the train and saw someone I knew.
He had dark, galactic circles around his small, soft eyes and had dusty ginger hair parting from his centre forehead, falling past his ears. He knew who he was but he seemed... some-what.. scared. I didn't know him, not personally; as soon as I walked onto the train we caught each others eyes, I instantly smiled and when I sat a few rows away from him, he smiled back and winked. I wasn't expecting that. I looked away without appearing too rude.
He was in his late twenties or near about, and I was surprisingly not worried, not initially, not until my logic gurgled and made me questioned if I should get off at a station earlier and walk the rest of the way home. I had a feeling he would get off at the station before me so I sat where I was and when the train stopped at the station before mine, he got up and walked to the door directly at my left. 'Knew it. My head-phones were in and playing, but I saw him smile and say what I believed to hear as 'cya'. I smiled back and watched him walk down the station somberly as the train past, he was not happy person, not at that point in his life.
It's doubtful we'll ever cross again, but we met, we crossed, we parted. Perhaps we did once know each other, or maybe he just looked like someone I recently saw in a movie; who knows? The point is that it was exciting, today had an adventurous spirit!


The day had been so refreshing. It wasn't anything fantastic, but it was different, exciting.
Small joys come from the unexpected. sometimes.

Most of all I cannot wait until friday when I'm going to have an absolutely terrific time, with the person I adore most, J. Because I want to. Genuinely. Really. really really REALLY :)

The Questioning Sort

I'm still questioning love.
Well not.. love itself, but if what I claimed to be love ever really was.

Perhaps it was love, but the simple sort that my brain created with chemicals.
Perhaps it was the love of caring, but not the 'flying' sort, not the sort that lifts you up to see your spirits twinkle together.
Perhaps it was the physical sort, the play-mate sort, the priority-of-self-learning sort. The questioning sort.


Not that it matters now, but I promised myself long, long ago that I wouldn't say or believe that I loved someone unless I was sure of it.
Well I broke that promise years ago, that was naivety, but I guess thats part of the process.

Tofu

I got home and heated up some tofu. Got some tomato paste, mixed it with water and added garlic, chilli and cumin into the package and heated it on the stove.
I tried a piece to taste and instantly burnt my tongue. the very tip. It is now burning more and more each time I eat this heavenly food..  dammit.

The deleted

I miss you

I miss you.

It doesn't feel right with you not here.

And the continuous play of love songs playing out in the living room for the family and neighbours, is not helping. My third blog post tonight

Ima keep smiling :)

What I have found about music.. my insight,

Music can squeeze us to tears, throw a bucket of ice on top of us, or send us to bliss time and time again; it's all the vibrations, the lyrics and beat. The beat that is pumped with the flow of our blood, it forever sticks with us, it takes you back to an era, a place, person or situation. It could have been years since you heard a song, but the moment you hear it, regardless of the fact that you have no idea how it turned up in your itunes on first glance, it takes you back to that moment, place or person. You notice the familiar taste and your subconscious brings the answer forward, you instantly know where the song came from, who gave it to you, what happened, what you felt. 

It's fascinating what a song can do, and although you can listen to it over and over, if you had once listened to it at a specific time in your life, or for a fairly long amount of time, although you may not hold anymore emotion, your memory is enhanced as if you're in a dream; knowing every aspect of your subconscious, and you're taken back for a few minutes, to a place you might have left a long time ago.

It doesn't hurt though, it doesn't bring you anymore emotion. It stuns you, you're captivated by it's some-what magic.

Sometimes you can't take yourself away from it, and others you have to immediately stop and change songs, or perhaps in some cases you might delete it.

All in all, music has that effect on people. 

Lyrics are incredible things too. Sunken into our minds at the earliest point, and when life replicates those words, the song sketches back into your head, you may not even know the song, or you may have only heard it once. But it always seems to work, the words always seem to match up some what to your life. Your mind recognises the process and is like, 'are these the words you need?'

Music can reenforce emotion, can open new aspects and solutions, it's something quite incredible I never really took notice of until tonight.

I now 'disagree' with screamo-music(again, some-what), it is setting such negativity in peoples minds, and the words don't even get into our conscious mind so we can have that connection and relief that there is someone else going through the same thing as ourselves, it's drilled into our subconscious and I suppose it expresses inner emotion, but to listen to on a regular basis, when you're sitting in class or on the train, is really quite depressing; if you are depressed or on that path, I'm leaning towards being certain that it will not help, at all.. 

Maybe I'm just biased in that aspect, but music does things good and bad, like everything. But for something so moving, having negativity thrown into it is extremely concerning knowing that living things are listening to it, having it apart of their lives.

I personally think music should be a festive thing, to relax, revive, celebrate and enjoy life with. 

It is a powerful instrument :D

Needed a new post.. may as well be this

I have a tendency of not following through on long-term goals.. the ones that include strict diets and daily strenuous exercise to form the more toned me.
So I am beginning a series of short-term goals.
Weekly goals.
It's bound to stick.

So I was horrified that on Friday I ate nothing but a lot of sugar and bread and butter. I said I'd be healthy the next day to kind of detoxify from it, well today is the next day, and again I ate sugar all day. Yeeaah its the weekend, but it's not even the superficial side of it that really gets to me; I've been more tired (and yes, maybe that is also because I've been getting minimal sleep every  night :p) and my stomach has just felt frail, I feel physically inept. somewhat.
I am proposing, that for the next week, I detox.
I go to hot yoga to release the toxins and have one whole week of rejuvenation, that means more raw foods, or if cooked they will be steamed or stewed to keep maximum nutrition, fruit up until 12pm and loootts of water. It may just be one week, but it will be one hell of a week, and perhaps I'll find a change to the way I feel (probably) and come to make it a reoccurring thing, I mean, it shouldn't even be something that I have to set as a goal.. as a vegetarian I should just be eating like that anyway.
No, I should be eating balanced.
But I guess this is to mentally stimulate myself some what, to grab my will power back and have brilliantly luminous eyes at the end of it also.... okay maybe that will take longer than a week.. but it will happen :D




Oh and tomorrow I make home made masala chai... :P ..caffeine free ;)

It turns out I'm a girl

This is more for my sake than yours.




Until the end of year nine, my family thought I was going to be a lesbian.
I burped as loud and abruptly as my dad, disliked wearing nice things, hated the colour pink, was a total slob, didn't care if I had mud and grass stains all over me, and if I did it was because I was scared at the yelling I'd get from my mum who did and still does my unbelievable amount of washing. When I was fourteen I loved guys clothing, I loved big baggy jumpers- hoodies with no zips to be precise, I loved my old shoes and comfy jeans, I refused to wear any make up(and still do) and I cursed more than a sailor. (and of course the burping and other things still continued). OH and I told everyone I didn't like guys up until I got my 'first boyfriend' (it sounds like I'm a man eater if I don't put in the '')
Now I am sixteen, all of my traits are the same, however I've started to like wearing nice things.
That's about the only thing that has changed. oh other than J, who I love dearly.. and is a boy.
But I have come to realisation.. that I'm not straight. 
I mean, why go write this on my blog? Who cares right? like why put it out there unless people ask for it? hmmm..  I'm excited about this discovery, or more.. honesty.
It lurked through me every time I looked at a girl, I could be taking photos of half a boob with my best friend to send to some guy she liked and be wishing that we'd just start making out, and then as I was falling asleep I fantasized about some big, round breasted, long blonde haired, loud-moaning naked chick bouncing in my face.
That was a weird night.


Further more, it was then that I came to terms with my sexuality. I laughed and kept it to myself. I had people I hardly knew ask me if I was but my answer was always no, no and no.
And the thing is, I couldn't 'be' with a woman, I don't think I could ever be in a relationship with one, I don't understand how men do!
We're wingers, moody, a lot of us are insecure thus hideously jealous, the most of us talk about absolute crap and always expect some sort of conversation, we like being the centre of attention(or maybe that's just me:P) and we get hell bitchy on one another. I really don't know how men stand us, all the same I am heavily appreciative :D My point is, I just find women ravishing, sexy... ultra appealing.


So, I'm a bisexual. funny how that happens... HOWEVER, I am predominately attracted to guys, guys are.. guys.. they're.. aahh, guys are just meant to fit with girls. nature made them perfectly.. it made all of us perfectly.... but nature made one guy in particular with a bucket of blue beryl, that whispers through his eyes and grew him hair of golden-deliciousness, it threw in some magic and let his jaw mature so it could hold the grand, bone-steps behind the most luscious lips you could ever imagine and a tongue of treacle.
That is only to describe his outer appearance, the way the world sees him.. just imagine what you find behind those ocean lit eyes.. a soul as magnificent as the sun, I can tell you that.  




Oh and I completely forgot why I started this post, oh yeah.. well I can't really be bothered now.. but I was going to talk about me loving songs that remind me of J, and as soon as he leaves the room after kissing me I jump around in a circle with delight, his name lights up on the screen and does the same in my heart. I'm a girl, what can I say?

Scones

You know what annoy me? Scones.
The mixture is so crumbly unless you kneed it together.. 'do not over-kneed' becomes a problem.
I am on a quest to discover the perfect recipe for the perfect scones, or at least the perfect technique to make the perfect scones.

Around the corner from my place is a cafe, the woman who owns it makes the most fluffy, voluptuous rounds of scones you could imagine! They are currently looking for someone to work there.. maybe I could jump in and then grab a few tips while I'm there and then once I've got the skills.. ditch....
The only problem to that is I couldn't do it; I don't have the heart, nor the bother.

Okay so my mistake last time was accidentally using plain flower, and only realising once it was too late to put baking powder in.. this time I think they were over kneeded, but they're not that bad.. just not..
                                       voluptuous...
                                                               fluffy...
                                                                                     rounds..       of scones


aaahhh I will get you scones! Just you wait     >.<