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Tuesday, August 27th, 2002
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9:06 pm - "Baaaaah!", says Frank.
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I hate sheep. But today, on closer thought of the issue I realised we are all sheep. Every single person on this planet. Society makes us sheep, with the options it offers, trying to make us feel individual and independant. No body I know actually does ex actly as they feel they want to. At some point we'll all conform to society's needs and wishes. We force ourselves into being sheep. We buy food from a supermarket when I'd be much happier growing it myself. I use plastics like there's no tomorrow becaus e everything comes shrink wrapped in plastic. I don't think about anything enough. But the scarriest thing about this is that I think a lot more than a lot of people do. (Or perhaps I just think I do.) Some would argue that we are not just simply being sh e ep that this is our culture, our way of life. But I hate it. This isn't cultured. Where's the spiritual significance in not having a REAL choice about where I buy my goods from and what they're wrapped in. Aaaaaagh!!! This world and this life is so frus tr ating that when I get the opportunity to day dream it's normally of banging my head against a wall. I ignore way too many things. I think I'll dye my hair black.ËÈi
current mood:  cranky
current music: Fuel My Fire- L7
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| Monday, August 26th, 2002
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4:48 pm
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I hate this society. I hate the fact it has become more like a machine rather than a body of people. I hate the way that soon all the history of ourselves will be lost. I hate feeling so utterly lost. I hate knowing that I'm not like most people, but I also love it. Where have our morals gone? Where have our rights gone? Where the fuck are we anyway? Who gets to decide these things? Who decided the way society will work? I have such a huge problem with the way these things run, with the way, certain parts of my life will always be decided for me.
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| Thursday, August 22nd, 2002
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11:06 pm - thick
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Some people are so spineless that I feel the need to cut out my own spine and give it to them. But it's amusing to watch people parade around saying they hate others and acting just like them. Spineless little fuckwits. Life must be so horrid for all thos e who have to hide from life itself. I'm so bored with people. I'm so bored with the fact that nobody seems to think about anything anymore. Either that, or they think too much and end up where they started... STUPID.
I'm sick of being surounded by peopl e I don't like and am not interested in. I'm so fucking bored by the human race. Everyone seems so futile, so little and so dishonest. I can't wait to buy a house, go to uni and marry Abatage. And then have tiny little Abatage babies, and bring them up wi th REAL values and morals. I wonder if most people even consider instilling morals into their children, as they bring them up, for any other reason than not going to jail. If so it doesn't seem like it worked on most of the people I know. I wonder if many parents think about their children at all.
I wonder if I would be content being a hermit in a cave with Abatage. I wonder if it were only Abatage and I, would we still be considered hermits? Maybe the aristocracy could pay for us to live in a cave on the ir property and come to our cave and poke sticks at us as we fuck. I know how much joshe loves aristicracy, I know how happy that concept makes him.
I am going to jam with Len.ê
current mood:  bored
current music: touched- Vast
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| Sunday, August 11th, 2002
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8:23 pm - Doody
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I thought this weekend was going to be very eventful... I was wrong.
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| Sunday, August 4th, 2002
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2:42 pm
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2:28 pm
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2:16 pm
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Visionary, revolutionary, vigilante - these descriptions all fit you well. You are thoroughly disgusted with society and humanity as a whole, and you have several rather diabolical plans to reshape it to fit your designs. You're probably a loner, and most people think you're crazy. That's just because they don't understand, though, and you'll show them someday anyway. Heh heh heh. You are known to become very passionate about many causes, have torrid love affairs, and be seen as a either a demagogue or a hero to the proletariat masses.
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Be cool! Take the What Do You Want Out Of Life? Quiz
n
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1:50 pm - Dear Gersh...
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I wanted to talk to you, but you are not home. So I'll have to make do writing to you.
You know I want our band to work, just as much as you do. But at the moment it feels very much YOUR band, not mine. I want to be a part of the creative side of it, I want to write with you. Even if it means that I write a song and then we change it until it suits both of us. I don't care about that. I want to marry our styles and make something new, and different. How amazing would it feel to be responsible for creating a whole new style of music? To change the face of music forever? What more, I ask you, could a musician want? I believe if we combine everything we have musically, we could make a new style. I've realised that my style as a singer/songwriter is set, as is yours, so if this band is going to have any chance i think this is what we're going to ahve to do. This doesn't mean that I want to make our, YOUR, music softer, but combine everything we have 100%. How amazing would our sound be? It would be full and rich, and most importantly different. Anyone can choose a style and play if, not everyone can creat a new style. I don't want to become just another Enemy Of? That isn't the point of music.
I think we could be big; I think we have the balls and the stamina to make it. I need this band to define myself as a person. I need it to be able to set myself apart from those who can't see a point to this world. I need it so that I can find myself again, so that I will know who I am. So that I can believe in something.
Think this over for a while.
Love R.
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| Tuesday, July 23rd, 2002
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10:41 pm - Turkey Neck
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Hold it in
bottled inside
you've nothing to say
no reason to be here
On this day
your eyes like razors
I know you feel me bleed
I know you know
this
but what about Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes
what about the blood they shared
what
and why and when, not now...
all those I've loved have turned their backs on me
Find a reason
of your own, not mine
if the one you loved
could only find joy
in the pain you felt, would you oblige?
Not me, neither I, can find your reason
You'll find yourself begging
on the floor
for a love, for the only love
that bleeds like razors
for you're not alive if you can't feel trauma
feel the trauma of the question
What if?
and why, why not
all above and beyond
your simple plane of thought
I feel so human
how distressing, how wrong
to be humbled by love
it's thick tendrils thrown around
(my neck)
in the change of the moment
the heat of the gaurded one.
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10:29 pm - Silence
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Listen to the way the silence unfolds
listen, how fast the silence becomes us
we scramble through cities
that have grown upon our thoughts
seemingly forever stuck between the buildings
lapping up grime in alley ways of dirt
sifting through syringes, used condoms
our disease
once again, in the darkness, I've found you
on your knees.
I will choke upon, no longer love
I will bleed with you
through the suicide
through our own suicide, we have come
a long way now, down the road.
& We can't turn back, we're in too deep
but through the shades of darkness come
the fresh new colours of the dawn
and amogst the dew we blossom forth
this love has survived our darkest hour
our cities have all crumbled now
replaced by a jungle, thick and moist
silence can't exist in this plave
where pure noise bleeds from your eyes.
ˆ
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10:04 pm - Tom has re-entered the building!!!
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Oh happy day!!! When Tom came home!!! OH HAPPY DAY!!! Last night in our excitement Abatage, Sally and I made a big banner saying WELCOME HOME TOM and hung it off the Crafers foot bridge. Which was an exhilarating experience all by it's self. Watching huge trucks come towards you on that thing, missing you by mere inches, or so it seems, is a rush. This morning when Sally and Mem went to get him the banner was there, when they came home it was not. So Tom will never get to see our lovely handywork.
That's a shame, we would have been his best. So I ran over to tom's place this morning before school. It's very nice indeed to have Tom's place on one side of school and Abatage's at the other. Couldn't be more perfect if it tried. But yes ran over to Tom's plac e to be greated but disgruntled and very sleepy Mem and Sally... Then from around the corner caught a glimpse of Tom, ran and jumped into his arms and stayed there, suspended in his arms for a few minutes. That was such a good, safe happy feeling. To have my best friend home again. Yay for Tom. Then was present time... Yay!!! I scored a little black T-shirt that says "I love Roma" in silver and red glitter and three snow domes (Paris, London and Venice). Very happy with that. Then off to another day of fucked over schooling. Fucked up time tables, and different teachers every three seconds and an art room without paint. Yay Heathfield. Then to Josh's and back to Tom's. Tom and Sally weren't home from their shopping yet so Joshe and I broke in a set up a small welcoming party, with sushi, san pelegrino and lindt chocolates... Tom has fine taste, what can I say?
Josh was amazing and went to the city all by himself to buy all that shit. I love you so much honeybear!!!
dd
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| Sunday, July 21st, 2002
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1:05 pm
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Tommorow I return to school, after two weeks of holidays and one week of work experience. Like most other teens school is not something I particularly enjoy, but I'll do it gladly none the less. I used to love school so much. I used to wake up excited with the prospect of a new day. But now it just seems all too repetitive and boring, same old people same old actions... same old reactions. I hate the fact I can read these people so well that most of the time a can guess correctly the very next thing they do. I will be happily content if I don't see many of my high school chums ever again. And after two weeks of only seeing who I like and who I would like to spend my time with, that thought sounds pretty fucking good. Back in year nine when P.E. was compulsorary I used to sit on the edge of the gym watching all these people do what ever they were doing and guess about the rest of each of their lives. Most pf the I think will be plumbers and computer geeks, who have no social skills and whose idea of a good night is going to the pub and a quick wank before bed. The rest I think will be very confused for the rest of their lives but in short bursts possibly brilliant. The only person that comes to mind as brilliant all the time, in every way at my sad little school is Tom Parbs, my best friend. Perhaps I am only saying that because he has been in Europe for a month and I am missing him like all hell, but the more I think about it perhaps not. I love Tom so much, he is everything I ever wanted in a best friend, he is everything I always wanted in a female best friend and never got. I have come to believe that if you can find a teenage boy that has gotten past all the sex bullshit then they are a lot purer, calmer and generally nicer than teenage girls. I only know one teenage girl that is sweet and caring to me all the time, and no I'm not going to name her. I miss loving school, I miss loving everyone I met at school... but more than that I LOVE my selection of friends. I love who they are and what they will become in the future. All my friends are going somewhere with their lives, all my friends are going to be someone who takes a chance and makes a difference. I miss Tom. I miss Tom. I miss Tom.
Two more sleeps until he comes home!!!∞
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| Friday, July 19th, 2002
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12:11 am
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12:09 am
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| Monday, July 15th, 2002
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12:01 pm - asphyxia
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Today I am having band practice/jam at my house. Which at the moment I am kinda freaked out about. I don't know why but last night I lost all m otivation for everything and I can't get it back. I put it down to the fact that my best friend has gone to Europe for a month and I know he isn't having a good time. He is staying with a family in France, who he has described as fat, poor, hicks. He so wouldn't survive in that situation even though it is only for a week, he can't survive if he isn't wearing a different colour pair of Calvin Klein jocks every five minutes. Poor baby. What ever shall he do? But yeah I guess I've never been away from him for this long and I just feel a bit empty. Fuck I can't even write poems anymore... I'm useless without him. Pooooooooooooooooooo!!!
But yeah back to the jamming thing, Fim and Isaac are now 38 minutes late and counting. Naughty boys...
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| Monday, July 1st, 2002
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10:49 pm - I saw (faux) ALI G!!!
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Today Josh and I went started work experience with my Daddy. Daddy is a Graphic Designer, Josh wants to be some sort of multimedia designer and I want to be an interior designer, so it all works out quite well. We spent the morning looking over port folios of daddy's past work which was cool. It's great to get an insight into what his day is really like almost everyday of the year. It's something I had always wondered about but obviously couldn't really know. And since I feel as though I'm slipping away from daddy thisis the perfect chance to get to know him again. I'm really happy about this, it's the best thing I could have hoped for in this situation I think. Anyway, somehow by the end of this week I'm going to make him proud of me. I don't know what for but I want to. I love him I really do, with everything I have.
Anyway so on our lunch break Joshe and I decided to go in to the city because that's the place where I thought I'd have most chance of getting something vegan. So we trundled of to Rundle St and to get some falafel, and who should we see being driven down the street by his security gaurd? Ali G!!! Of course the first thing I do is ring my mother to tell her of this wondersome spectacle. And then for the next hour we sped around town, bought a disposable camera to capture an image of the great G, until we found him again, only of course to realise it's not fucking him... well wasn't I disappointed! So basiclly all we ended up with after all that was a trail of blood running down my leg, (after ignoring my urgent need to go to the toilet and not realising it was my period) and an almost pissy daddy. But once we explained he was very sympathetic.
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| Friday, June 28th, 2002
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11:29 am - Some EXAMS aren't fun...
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Well yesterday was quite traumatic... As I was writting about yesterday, I had my english exam at 1:30... Or so I thought. Just as I finished my entry my mum bursts in with this look like she's about to die and says "We haven't made a huge mistake have we?!" And just as she says that I realise my exam was acctually at 9:00, and I slept through it. Obviously I was hugely embarrassed, and almost ashamed ofmyself for letting somethinglike this slip through my fingers to that extent. But it is year 11 after all so I sat it today at 9:00 and now it's like nothing ever happened. I hate being caught in situations that you know aren't really going to make and difference in the long run, but still not being able to help get caught up in them and feeling like shit anyway. It sucked the big one.
But Josh came over straight away, from work, to comfort me. So that made it better, somewhat. Then that night Josh and I went to an info night for the TAFE course he wanted to do. He was pretty diasapointed with the presentation, and he was right to be, it was nothing special. It was just basically explaining the apllication form and that's about it. Other than the woman giving the talk saying drawwww-wwwwwing way too much it was disinteresting. But anything for my luffin o'muv. Then we came home and made pasta, among other things, ate it and watched "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back". Then we went to bed because of my exam.
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| Thursday, June 27th, 2002
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11:29 am - Some Exams ARE fun!!!
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Yesterday I had my first two exams! First thing in the morning was Biology. I think I did pretty well, I understand all the biology theory so I'm good at tests and stuff, but I think I'm still failing the subject! Whoops... Nah I'll pass, I wouldn't let myself fail. Then two hours later was my Art exam, which unfortunately didn't go so well. I still did pretty well I think, I just forgot almost every artist from the Rococo period to the Realist movement. Which is almost one hundred years of artists... So how can they expect me to remember.
Perhaps I should have studied more than I did.
Anyway, today, in two hours, I have my last exam for this semester which is English. As English is my most bestest subject, I'm not worried at all. I've discovered I work p retty well in exam situations. So this is the last school related thing I'm going to have to do before three weeks off, I'm pretty happy about that. Well one of those weeks is taken up by work experience, but shhhhhhhh
don't tell, I'm going to work with m y dad!!! Which isn't allowed because it hampers the authenticity of the experience, but I know what I want to do for the rest of my life, so fuck my school for imposing this on me again. I did it last year at my favourite guitar store, Derringers. From that experience I realised I NEVER want to work in retail. I really dislike having to speak to people I don't know in those situations. I met some cool people, and admittedly I just spent most of my time playing the most expensive guitars and basses I could find, but still, not a great experience.
So I'm off to work with Daddy the Graphic Designer!
Which is cool because he works in and office building full of other designers and illustrators, so it's not like I'm not going to learn anything. After all I want to be an Interior Designer, and design is design, the process is the same. I always feel so stupid when I say I want to be an interior designer, like it's a really worthless and superficial job. Which it is in a way, and I guess that's why I chose it, so if my life gets to full on at least I won't have to think about work in any great detail. I guess I'll do other stuff on the side, which isn't quite so superficial, music, art and poetry, the other things I love. But really ideally, I would like to design hospitals and prisons and stuff like that. That get a lot of use and need a good design, to be easier to manage.
Shit it's almost exam time!!!
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| Tuesday, June 25th, 2002
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8:04 am - Rani is pissy!!!
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I feel like shit. I feel useless and worthless and very very small. Recently I have, almost continously, the urge to either slice my veins open or pump drugs into them. I've had enough of me for a while, I want to let go and be somewhere else, just for a little while. Maybe a holiday would do the same thing, but who knows. I just don't want to feel like this for much longer. I feel sick, i sicken myself. Constantly thinking of why I'm not good enough, or telling myself to try harder at something I don't w ant to do. I make myself scared, and alone. Over and over, I do this to myself, willingly I fall to my own belief system that I could never be loved and over and over I feel like a failure or a cheat or a liar because of it. I could blame so many things f or this, I could blame my father figure problem or my exams... But I know the only one to blame is myself. I bring this upon myself everyday, and then the veins in my wrists and hands start to hurt, like they're crying out for something to make it all s top, even just for a little while. I get so caught up in this pain that I can't speak, or move, or love. I've often wondered what it is that makes it hurt so much, maybe it's just adrenalin or something, but why specifically my hands and wrists?
My natur e, I've been told is very addictive. So my being straight edge is a good thing, I've no doubt about that. But there's something in me that just wants to get out...
All this is made much much worse by the fact that my father doesn't speak to me and if he d o es he doesn't look at me. I feel like a failure in his eyes. When I was 12 and started my period, he stopped talking to me. I remember my mother sat me down and told me he was very upset and he cried when she told him. So of course I thought it was my f au lt, and ever since then I've felt like a failure. So I guess it isn't that much of a surprise that I feel like a failure every three seconds with my boyfriend. If I discover I've done something wrong in his eyes, I won't let myself forget about it. I'll nag and nag myself untill all I want to do is crawl up in a corner and die. Then I'll never be able to let anyone down again. The he asks me what's wrong and I can't speak because the pain in my wrists has started and I shut myself into a self-ind uced stupor. Then all I think about is how I can make it up to him and what I can do to make it better, and not be a failure anymore. And time and time again I come up with the same answer to myself, which then makes me feel worse, in the hope that I can ma ke him f eel better: Drop to your knees and suck. This is quite often the only thought I have pounding through my head for hours.
I can't think of anything more degrading to impose on myself than that. But I never do... I know he wouldn't let me. He knows how I feel about that so he wouldn't allow it. So this is the thought I'm stuck on... over and over, it has always been the same. All through out our relationship, I get caught on thinking about this, usually untill I cry myself to sleep hours after anyt hing has happened, and long after he has fallen asleep.
So Josh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for every time I've done this and made you think it's your fault. I'm sorry for tonight. I know you're trying so hard to make this better for me, for us. I love you so mu ch, I don't know what I'd do without you.
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1:02 am - Go Jerry, Go Jerry!!!
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As I'm supposed to be studying for my exams tomorrow I thought it would be appropriate to start my day by watching Jerry Springer. The title of todays quality program was "Honey, I'm sleeping with your Dad." It was just dandy, full of incest and other suc h wholesome things. My mother hates Jerry... more than anything else on TV, and I agree, it's horrid. But there's something that draws me to it still, and today I think I discovered some of the reasons. The list goes something like this...
1) Are these r eal people or actors? That's just something I can never answer to myself. Of course you would think no-one could be so stupid or so revolting, but we have to accept, these people are americans, so who knows?
2) These people ARE americans, so it's fun to point the finger and laugh about these stupid people who seemingly see Springer as some sort of demi-god. I'm always well amused by the end of the show when audience members get up and do a little song and dance about their love for Springer.
3) What be tter down time for your brain can you think of? This show requires zero thought process, and it's comforting to know that when you can't stop yourself from thinking, these people couldn't start in the first place.
So from now on I'm going to be a happy l ittle hypocritical Jerry watcher, and chant along with the audience in admiration of a man with such high morals. GO JERRY, GO JERRY!!!!†8
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