Truth

Could you let down your hair and just be transparent for awhile?
While we all try to figure this out and hopefully come up with a compromise that will work out for all.
Honesty is a hard attribute to find, when we all want to seem like we've got everything figured out.
I won't kid myself into thinking that all is where it should be, for there is no such thing as the perfect situation.
I'm just too tired to try and find faults in something that only feels wrong.
But evidently I'm not the only one.
And it's at times like this that things either break or mend, with a little push.
When it's way past time that neither should, would, could happen.

Let me be the first to say that I don't have a clue, I dont have all the answers
I'm not going to pretend like I do.
Indeed, when you strip this whole thing down to it's bare bones, you'll find that I'm probably more confused than most.
All the details just gliding discreetly over my head while I try to grapple with what I've managed to wrestle down.
So don't look at me and ask me what to do.
I don't know where we will go, what we will see, what will happen in a years time or even tomorrow.
Let's just hope there is something kind, out there, that will turn us towards what's good.
In the end, we're just trying to find our way out the best way we know how.

Well I haven't memorized all of the cute things to say, but I'm working on it.
This is an art form that I plan to master someday.
Just as communication is more complicated than any maths puzzle you can make.
Say something to me, anything.
Because, like you, it doesn't really matter now, what we say.
It's the voice being there that matters and we're all just as needy and lost as yesterday.
If I really just quoted famous lines off the top of my head.
Will you be happy, or will you understand every word I'm trying to say?
And in the end, we're just trying to find a way to voice all the things we already know anyway.

I haven't gotten it all figured out quite yet, but even if it takes my whole night, I'll get to the bottom of this.
And if I should fall asleep, then it'll still be alright.
Because I'll be one step closer to you and my dreams will carry my conscious into a place
Perhaps better for thinking than this distracting reality we're living
I'll figure out this somehow, and we'll still be trying to find our own way to each other.
Either way, we'll be together as long as we keep up those steps

- "Trying to Find My Way"
   Lifehouse

A question to the sky...

When will you stop raining?
Goddamit. It's suppose to be dry season douche!
And at least make up your mind about whether you're gonna be sunny or raining. Not both.

Fragmentation

I stepped from one heavy world into another as my feet took me away from the doorway.
Suddenly the bleary sun seems much too bright.
Medium clouds streaked paleing skies, and grey pavement sounded with footfall.
Marching on. Tired.
Not quite awake.

The summer heat had not quite settled into our eyes.
Lines were still sharp, stationary objects remained so.
But everything just seemed so far away, and reaching them seemed too much of an effort to make.
A horn blasted. Swish. Silence.

It felt lighter compared to the walls of the house, the strangling curtains, the heavy oak door, the muffling carpet and the subtle stares.
Cold war.

There was a crowd. A ringing phone. Then many.
People shuffled left and right, packed tightly into a gargantuan mass, and yet all utterly alone.
Awkward whispered permeated the air, people coughed, people avoided eye contact, people stared into ipods and phones.
Wouldn't be less awkward if people interacted in such a small space?
School girls in packs. Giggling.

The train comes, first in the grating squeal of the tracks, in a dull rumble, then in a rush of air.
The door rattles open and the people crowd around seeming eager.
No doubt it was the exact opposite of what they felt.
Still, it was a necessity to appear so.
A familiar face.
An unfamiliar situation.

Locked inside. Laughter. Dignity put temporarily aside and all forgotten.
A miscalculation that was right.
A wave. A smile.
Carry on.
Awkwardness and an attempt to look comfortable.
An introduction.
A stretch of silence.
Destination.

Once more, you willingly enter my domain.
Who said who belongs?
Who dictates.
Not I.

Lost.
I'm lost.
Looking for the lost.
Looking for fellow losts.
The losts morphed into founds and disappeared into the crowd.

Another familiar face, but this time, it would be wiser to run.
Another average day.
A disturbing continuation of the last.

Store of books, shelves, tiers, rows, aisles.
Work. Change of routine.
Not wanting to return home.
A reminiscence of days. And nights. And a frame of mind.
Never again will they haunt the living.

A confession, forgiveness, and despair.
Perhaps despair is not the right work.
Given up.

I despise everything numerical ... *teacher speaks, pauses, then chuckles*
I didnt expect that, he says.
I didnt either sir. I didnt either.

Just another day.

Unexpectingly Overheard

"Love life, and life will love you back"

Black hair.
Blue eyes.
Auther, reader.
Tall, strong.
Successful, rich.
Luke Hynes.

On this particular day, he'd found himself without any occupational disasters, good books, exciting movies or pretty women. The deadline for the release of his next book was as far away as he wished it to be, having just recently completely a novel (One Hundred Days; A Romance). A peek in between tightly drawn shutters revealed that some god had decided to bawl her eyes out today. Mr L. Hynes found it hard to sympathize. While he had been flitting from the TV, to the couch, to the kitchen, to the bar, reading a line of his newspaper, then flipping through the pages of a book he knew not the title of, the house shrunk in that suffocating, constricting, frustrating way until even the amount of paces from one wall to another seemed fewer than before and each breath seemed to suck less and less air in, in that small space that progressively grew smaller and smaller in ones mind. He flung himself out onto the veranda, and was promptly soaked to the skin. Pleasant day.

When he returned to the room, nothing had changed besides for the fact that a puddle of muddy water had begun to form where his pant legs met the floor. It was still too limiting for his taste. Disturbing the phone from where it had nestled into its cradle, he pressed a random speed dial. Instinct told him not to press number one. That was his editor. It was better to keep away from sleeping dragons. Number two was home. That was out as well. That left one in seven chances that it would his ex wife, one in three of the remaining chances it'd be one of this latest flings, half of the four buttons left were Sebastians home and mobile, and the remaining two were empty. Sebastian picked up on his mobile. He sounded stressed, no doubt from his hellish twins. God bless marriage.

A sharp swirl of black material (everyone wore black these days), the clunk of heavy boots and a pop of an umbrella was followed by the sound of a key turning a lock. Walking out of the driveway, he pulled out yet another set of keys and his car made an indignant squeak at being woken up on such a dreary day. The growled when it realized Mr Hynes intended to coax it from the warm garage into the muddy, sheeting rain. It wasn't a happy Mercedes right at that moment, not at all. As they wound down the clogged streets of central London, the unhappy Mercedes pondered upon why it was being mistreated so. Stuck in traffic, dirtying itself in spraying mud on the road, winding between battered Toyotas and a Ford or three hundred, and being left on the sidewalk crammed between a dozing 1980's and a motorbike smug in its rainproof covering. It was a Mercedes for heavens sake! Born to carry lavishly dressed women and smart tuxedo men to glittering hotels and left in pristine, spacious car parks. It sighed and promptly went back to sleep.

Meanwhile, Mr Hynes had been totally oblivious to the discontent of his car, being too buried in his own discontent. The cafe he arrived in was small, somewhat dimly lit and chilly. One could see the steam rising up from three coffee cups spread thinly throughout the room. One was perched happily beside an elderly gentleman, looking curiously on to his newspaper. One was contently cupped between the delicate, cold hands of a red nosed, cute looking art student, made obvious by her bright red hair and sketch book lying discarded on the table. Another squatted forlornly on the opposite side of the table to a dozing business man, who had no doubt forgotten all about his coffee in his sleep deprived stupor. It was to this man Mr Hynes greeted with a slap on the back. The man started awake, gazed dazedly at his life long friend then settled back into his seat with a grunt. He remembered his coffee, and chugged. He rubbed his eyes while Mr Hynes ordered a Caramel Latte, and managed to look somewhat energized by the time the waitress turned and sauntered back to the counter on her tethering heels. Both men stared, appreciating the way her skirt stretched tightly over her glutious maximus.

The conversation between the two men were of the kind that developed between two men who had no doubt been brother like in their childhood, mate like in their teenage years, friends in their college experience, and now held a sort of exasperation towards  the total lack of interest in what the other party had to say. They stared at each other a bit, taking in the changes, every new facial crease, every new grey hair, every square centimeter of newly tanned skin and every buffed and polished finger nail. One complained about work, wife, kids and mortgage while the other one exalted clubs, money, cars and mansions. Interest in women was about the only thing those two had left in common with each other. The rest had been swept away by luck all those years ago. So it was to no ones great surprise when the conversation ultimately turned to love. Even there, the differences are evident.

Mr Hynes gazed at Sebastian, with his hands worn from changing nappies, his frame slumped from overwork and his eyes glittering with emotion for his family, and felt a pang of something he could not quite place. Even has Sebastian complained, a tired smile hovered on the edges of his expression. For though he wrote about love, exalted love, made love and recieved love on a regular basis, he'd hardly ever been in love. He was too busy with his career, then too busy enjoying his youth, then too busy funding his expensive habits... And whether he realised or not, he'd soon become too selfish to even consider giving everything he had for someone else's affections. He told Sebastian this, in a very different way of course, and said that he wished someone would just love him for him, not his money, his fame or his looks. He told Sebastian he wished someone would be straight forward with him, tell him his faults and tell him that it's alright to be imperfect. He said he wished someone would shout out to him that they loved him, all of him, even if he was impoverished, ugly and sexually incompetant. The two men stayed in that cafe till the streets outside grew quite, and only the artst-to-be remained in the deserted little shop. With a spoken promise to meet again, this time, at Mr Hyne's house, addresses were exchanged.  The two men drove off in their seperate cars. Mercedes vs Mitsubishi. Mitsubishi won by taking the right turn. Mercedes sulked, and was ignored.

The next day, what sounded like the steady hissing of a steam engine woke Mr Hynes from a rather enjoyable dream. He winced as the harsh sunlight triumphantly defeated the receeding blinds and stung his eyes. A crowd had gathered at the foot of his three storey house, surrounding someone with red hair waving around what seemed to be a flashing placard. He dressed and tousled his hair in the mirror on the way out of the door. He froze, halfway between the outside and inside of his house, gaze fixed on a giant screen that flashed his life before his eyes.

L. Hynes + Lilien Harold = Love

Blink

L.H x 2, it's a Sign!

Blink

Sexual Incompetancy is Nothing!

Blink

I (heart) Your Weird Underwear!

Blink

The art student from yesterday gazed with wide, expectant eyes. The crowded alternated between "awwww"s and hysterical fits of laughing. A few old ladies looked scandalized. A few eager youngers snapped away with their cameras. As for said Mr L. Hynes? Well he took a step forward, rippled where he stood, then promptly passed out.

And no, those two never did end up getting married.

Day Break.

I guess I haven't written a personal blog for awhile, so here's one about my life so far.
Firstly, my first week as a senior was a bit, a lot, different to junior school.
I'm already buried in homework and reports and essays and tests and it's only the first week!
What happened to that breaking in period where everyone just lets their brain rot for awhile to get used to the fact they have to start grinding their way to a start?

The good old days...

Also, there have been some new members of ATOMS! But don't worry, we won't forget the people who left <3
Welcome: Alison, Bri, Grace and Vivi!
And I'm also confused. Has Elena joined scrandoms? Shes never there anymore.

I have a feeling, this year's gonna be a good year =]
So many exciting things!

Aaaaah, so something about today. Maths. I don't hate it so much now. I have talkative friends ha ha.
In the corridor, got barred then death glared by Elena.
I guess she's in a bad mood as always.
I swear I'm scared she'll run a javelin through my body.

CHEM! Report! Our experiment kinda died... was still wet T___T
er... then what. Oh yea, recess. Woah, so many kids in senior vocal.
I really shouldn't call them kids.
Most of them are taller than me.
Shame.

Learnt a lesson today.
If there's something to say, then there are two options.
One, be tactful and keep it to yourself. Two, say it to the person and watch their reaction with glee.
I guess theres a third option of just whispering it around the corners, but thats just so anticlimatic.

Bio report. Yup, another one.
And the CIA, the Soviet Union, and the anti Kennedy Americans all got together and killed the President.
All english teachers are cynics.

One last thing.

Elena, if you do ever take the time to read my blog, or someone please link her.
Please, at least have the courtesy to reply when your friend is calling out in concern to you on a train.
She is wasting enough time on you as it is.
 But then, I guess that's just my opinion.


Bella.

Highlights '09

And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town...
English with shorty. steph, lauren, sab, me. good times

There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea...
Year 10 vocal, group love.

Cuz you and me, were meant to be, walking free, in harmony...
Scram '09. we are unbiased

We'll stand together, for one night, and this evening, we'll be heard...
Rice. What a night.

Candy coated prison bars, and chains of popcorn and jewelry...
French Rev. Ahhhh....

Don't stop the music, wooaaaah, let the notes strike down our broken hearts...
Remember raving on marble tables? Karaoke ftw <3

First night, this is our first time, the chance of a lifetime to show the world...
NSB/G benefit concert, our first.

Let's escape into the unknown, do things we've never done before...
Spur of moment decision to punch holes in my ears.

Washed away by the never ending waves, let love gather like sand on the shore...
Cronulla. Purple rice love.

Cuz we'll be friends forever, friends forever...
"that's not a group, thats a GANG" bday love.

Cuz you'll be in my heart, yes you'll be in my heart...
Crashing ruse to find Anna and Marilyn, never forgotten <3

Dazzling lights spread out below in the city night...
Opera house, pancake on the rocks.

Sea of black, Walls of glittering stars, and notes...
Gala concert. Wasn't that fun.

We sing for you...
Charities. Scrubbing cars. GG

When I grow up, I wanna be famous, I wanna be a staaar...
Trying to get on sunrise. LOL

We wish you a merry xmas, we WISH you a merry xmas
Aaaah, red hats and black, in north sydney.

I got a feelin, that tonight's gonna be a good night...
Sea of Black with suspended colors, gorgeous girls at our first ever formal!

Cuz we're young and we're free and we're not afraid of anything
BEAAAAAAACH!! MEAAAAAAAT!!!

Colours in the sky will light up our lives tonight...
End our year with a BANG of fireworks =D