WE WOULD ALWAYS HAVE TO SAY GOODBYE

So, the time has come where I have decided to part with this blog. I won't deactivate it or anything, because I'll probably still need to get stuff from it from time to time, but just to let you (who ever my readership is, if I even have one) know to not expect anymore posts from me, I am giving you this last mediocre post. Basically I just want to start afresh on a whole new blog. And unfortunately I don't want to post the link here to whatever that blog may be.

We had an okay run. I'll never see you again, and I salute you.

TEEN SPIRIT

How do I suddenly have a craving for something that I haven't even tasted before? Something that isn't good for you, something that I am disgusted by, something that isn't attractive what so ever. I don't even know. These are odd times for me.

I think I have a big pot of angst mixed in with spoiled bitch bubbling up inside of me, waiting to explode everywhere. I don't want to do my homework, I'm questioning a career path that I've always been certain of, I loathe school. It's like all my ambition has just burnt out. Basically I just want to drop out of school and live offsome talent I have in me that I haven't yet discover.

Hopefully this will pass otherwise I'll probably fail year 10 and start wearing a backwards cap.

SATISFIED MIND

I want lots of things. I want an iPhone, I want to dye my hair red and mix in some blonde. I want Blink 182's new album and I want Cry Baby and Ferris Buellers Day Off. I want some more candles. I want a chalk board wall or maybe a completely white wall. I'm talking #ffffff ladies and gentleman.

I want to go sea kayaking and I want to go to Peru. I want to lay out in the sun all day.. I want to go and get noodlebox and share it with some of my lovely ladies. I want to star gaze at my Grannies and I want Summer to hurry up and be here already. I want to be at White Hall and run up and down the old stair case.

I want things that are so simple and I want things that cost money, that will only bring me brief happiness. Where as the simple ones, will give me memories that will make me smile when I think about them 6 years down the track.

We're all materialistic. I'm super materialistic. I get that. But there is nothing better than the sunshine or the pitch black sky on a cloudless night, with a blanket of stars for you to gaze at for hours.

Disclaimer - Remember when entering this blog don't forget to bring your sack of corny-ness and cliche' otherwise you'll probably die of embarrassment by just reading the things that go on in my head. 

THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE SUMMER

I've decided I'd like to do more picture posts. My blog is boring enough as it is, I thought a little colour my tickle your fancies. Anyway, if you hadn't already gathered, I'm aching for summer. I can feel it in the air and I know I'll be completely healed by then. It all just sounds too appealing.

YOU'RE STILL A KID ANYWAY

I never had one of those little cash registers that most little girls do. I remember I would go to my friends house, and she would have this lovely pink and purple one, that even had a speaker so you could joyfully declare a clean up on imaginary isle 5. I wanted one of those so bad. I almost bought one when I was 10. Which seems so young now, but way too old for a fake cash register.
But hey, I found it hard to fully give up playing with Bratz dolls in year 6. Although then I was a complete and utter 'tom boy' so having bratz dolls was sort of secret to most of the people at my new school, although all of my family were well aware. I had 17. And the runway, the cafe, the scooter and the salon. In a way it's still cool. Of course, they weren't as trashy as they are today. But all their little accessories, their tiny earrings and laptops. That's crazy. There is so much detail in that.

In saying that though, I think I'd still be a fan of making your own toys. Although I was always one to jump on the trampoline, and I'd make up a new game every day after school. I'd pretend to be a secret agent that lived a double life, always with an American accent. Sometimes I'd break and sing a song that was in the moment. And I'd even get chalk and draw my room on the trampoline. That was so so great. I'd literally spend hours on that trampoline, and I'd always feel so embarrassed when someone would come out and catch me mid song.
I wasn't a good singer...

"C'EST LA VIE", SAY THE OLD FOLKS

Hello Pulp Fiction, I've wanted to meet you for so long. I always had this feeling in my stomach that I'd love you when ever I heard anything about you. And, what do you know? My suspicions were true. We've met, and I have this lovely feeling about the connection we have. Yes, you were nothing what I expected to be. But who doesn't love the art of surprise? You've given me two new favourite songs, a hilariously lame joke to pass on, new dance moves, endless quotes to include in my sometimes dull life and pop culture knowledge that I needed to pick up sooner or later.

On a non-prat level - I'M GETTING MY SURGERY SOON! In 23 days or something ridiculous like that. I'm excited and terrified and I hope my face doesn't change too much, or well - I hope it changes for the better. Which is what should happen, I mean there fixing a jaw that is out of line, so putting it where it's meant to be should... Oh god I don't know. Hopefully all turns out well and I don't feel too horrid for too long and having ghastly bruises under my eyes and swelling for months.

A list of things to look forward to -

23 September - School Finishes
27 September - Hopefully go to Melbourne and Ice Skate or Rock Climb + Shop/Eat/Have a generally good time
29 September - Jaw Surgery
17 November - Kings of Leon
Start of December - School is O-V-E-R
23/24 December - GO TO WHITE HALL FOR CHRISTMAS

Wowowow, when you put it like that it makes it seem like the end of the year is so so close. Which is crazy. That means I'm almost in year 11. And when you're in year 11 you're almost in year 12, and when you're in year 12 you're almost finished school. When you've finished school, well let's not talk about that. If you spend too much time thinking about your future and all the things that are going to happen / you want to do, you'll be dead before any of it will happen.

No, that is completely untrue. I can't even sell my own theory to my self. Sheesh, journalism here I come...

I WOKE UP TODAY

I can't be bothered right now. I just want to listen to this song and then I'll go put some real clothes on. I'll put a bit of make up on, do my hair, drink a glass of water, do the dishes, slowly die and then go to work.

It's hard to figure out where my head is at. I don't want this to be some in depth post or anything. That is ridiculous. I'd be totally contradicting myself, right? Because I make fun of cliche's. Do I? I don't know. Now I'm just spilling out any sentences that make their way into my brain full of swirling thoughts. Swirling thoughts that are lucky to make sense on a good day.

Work is only two hours, that's 20 dollars, plus three hours yesterday, that's 50 dollars. Plus the twenty dollars saved from last weeks shift, 70 dollars. This weeks pocket money, 80 dollars. By the end of work experience this week, I'll have 130 dollars. Then work on Saturday, 160 dollars. You know, that is if I don't spend a dime this week. Which is totally unlikely. If I end up with 150 dollars I'll be happy.

I don't know whether I am looking forward to work experience or not. I'm definitely not looking forward to commuting on the bus every day for the next week. Okay, I don't hate the bus ride. But there is only a few things in this world I hate more than the actual wait for the bus.

Okay, why I am I even being so negative? I'm going to be waiting tables and making coffee all week, and if I'm lucky I'll get free Chai Lattes thrown into the deal. Better than school.

CINEMATIC

I just watched Wild Target and I adored it! Bill Nighy is in it, and he is right up there in my list of favourite British actors. Also Rupert Grint is in it, so it just keeps on getting better. The rest of the cast includes Emily Blunt, Rupert Everett, Eileen Atkins and Martin Freeman. So pretty much, great cast (though I'm not that fond of Emily Blunt).

Rupert Grint's roll as Tony was very Ron Weasley-ish. But that's okay, he was so cute and it was really quite funny.

I suggest you go and download it and have a laugh because it is great, though - I don't think my sister thought as high of it as I did.

I really suck at giving movie reviews, but this isn't meant to be one. I am just telling you I watched it. Because this is my blog. I tell you things. Things in my head. That I think. Things that I do. That I... Do?

Oh my god what am I even saying.

A DILEMMA

I love my family so much, but as of late it seems I have taken a turn for the worse. In my attitude? Or maybe it isn't even me. It very well might just be the way my Mother acts around the company of her boyfriend, Peter. Not always so much around him, but because of him.

When I say I have a 'fight' I don't mean yelling, or physical abuse or anything, I suppose I mean... Arguments? Well, I have had a few of them lately with my Mother. One about me supposedly being under weight (I'm not), and how I perceive my body image (this argument was beyond ridiculous), and then there were other silly arguments over things such as her not being home and going to her boyfriends house when my eldest sister comes home for the weekend. So the topics vary. And in some cases I know it isn't me, but on a whole - are others my fault? It's hard for me to judge sometimes.

Back in the days of year 7, I was a horrible person. To be quite frank, I was a bitch. I was friends with the wrong people, though I know I cannot blame my attitude entirely on the crowd I was apart of. But, at this time, I was so mean to my Mum, and I really wasn't myself. Though again, at the time - I didn't know I was being horrible. I just assumed that everyone was treating me unfairly. I was so self indulgent, it was ridiculous.

So, this brings me to my dilemma. On a whole - am I just turning into another snooty, mean girl? Am I being impractical and hard to deal with? Do I really just need to take a proper, hard look at myself, and find that I am the problem?

I guess, it's hard to say. But, I try to think of it as not to much of a problem. My Mother and I will always be close. And I've never known an entire extended family that is as close as mine. And I value that above almost anything else.

New digs

So I've change my blog around twice today. And there is no way to get my original blog back. I am really sad about this. I just wanna go back to the old days - you know? Oh, the sadness.

Also the plain white background will probably be temporary. My whole blog feels a bit too monotone.

Argh, sites always gotta be changin' doesn't it?

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Art in le city.

Publication

I've never really thought about what would happen if people I know in real life started reading my blog. I mean, I already know a few do. But I barely ever share my link on facebook or anything. And I am not going to start, but I think making a zine and distributing it around my town would be cool. I've been thinking about it lately. As in, what the segments would be, etc. I think I might do it. Though - I do not want to commit to it so soon, because majority of the time when I do - I never end up following through. It's like I am afraid of commitment or something. You know what? That's probably right.

asdfghjkl

I neglect this blog too much. I feel like I use you, blog. I only ever want to write in this when I want to talk nonsense. I am almost certain that majority of my posts on this have no point, nor do they make any sense what so ever. And they are obviously not interesting, in the sense that nobody seems inclined to read my posts.

But you know what? I'm okay with that. I am not doing this for publicity, I am not writing what I think people would like. Because if I was I would just make this another cliche', wouldn't I? We all know what sells easy. Good old Ke$ha proved that, didn't she? I may hate her music and I don't exactly have a soft spot her. But she knows whats going to get her rich, and I am pretty sure she's aware that her music is nothing compared to the likings of Madonna or Lady Gaga. But she knows it entertains people, and I don't think she cares who her audience is, as long as it sells. I don't even know. I am rambling. How did I even begin to start talking about Ke$ha?

I don't know what to talk about now because I stopped typing. I swear I stop typing for a second and my fingers stop moving (obviously) and all thoughts and ideas just seep out onto the floor beneath me. Creating a big mess of horrible ideas that I will most likely never remember again, because they were not significant what so ever.

Thats my brain. Ladies and gentleman.

Actually probably not.

Untitled - Prologue

Prologue

The van turned up the long, gravel road. As it made it's way up to the mansion in front. The soft rumble of the engine was like that of the old heater back at her home. It was comforting, and the light streaming through the windows was just like the light that streamed in through her curtains in the early morning. Ariana was safe, she was at home, turning over in her bed, slowly moving her hair from her face. But she couldn't. What was restraining her? Why could she not move her hands? There was something clasped around them, how is this possible? And then it dawned on her.

Ariana's eyes flew open, shocked to see her surroundings, not knowing where she was, or how she got there. She let a scream out, as two, large men, with fangs and giant claws were trying to calm her down, or were they trying to harm her? She kicked, and squirmed, trying to free her wrists from the straps that had tied them to a handle in the back of a van. The men, who seemed to just be huge shadows now - were clawing at her now. Trying to hurt her. Trying to push her down. She screamed and screamed. But no one heard her. No one would ever hear her. Her mind was going blank, apart from the two men that sounded like they were laughing, shrieking, in fact.

Before she knew it, the van had stopped and she was pushed onto the ground. She could smell the sea near, but it didn't seem freeing. It suffocated her. The shadows pushed her through two large, wooden doors. She tried to break free, she did. She tried with all her might. But she was weak. Her bones seemed brittle, and her throat sore from screaming so much. She was pushed into a large white room, with only a bed and toilet. Nothing else. It was painfully bright, the fluorescent lights burning down on her. She couldn't take it. The door was shut behind her, and suddenly the darkness engulfed her. Masked men moving closer and closer to her, their menacing faces smirking at her, as tears ran down her face, and she yelled. Yelled for help, for anyone. They were coming, they were coming for her again, and she couldn't stop it. She was going to die. They were going to get her. And no matter how much she screamed, no body heard her.

I'm ace at life

So I will continue that story. Man, I will. Whether it be backwards like a manga or forwards like all you squares out there. But it will happen! I just have to do something about this holiday homework I have, and trying to organise a dinner/date/time/present for the whole fucking editorial team of a magazine. But you know, it's all good. I'm keeping calm and listening to Edward Sharpe.

Easter was good. Though can someone please enlighten me as to why we get chocolate? This is a rhetorical question as I know none of you are going to answer, and I will most likely go and google it after I finish this post. But anyway, chocolate? Why? I mean, I'm not complaining. I don't believe in God as the man, so Easter doesn't really hold any other value to me apart from chocolate and family.

Sometimes looking at gifs on tumblr make me want to have a seizure. Well, obviously not want to have one. But I feel like I am about to go into one. It's like I am staring into a freaking strobe light. Oh wow guys, I just don't think I am indie enough to handle the best of them. /wrists.

Tomorrow will either be filled with a movie marathon with good company, or playing PS1 games between episodes of prison break. Rockin' the holidays out in style.

This used to just say 'I' it was obviously an accident. I am going to leave it here for sentimental reasons

Daisy did this

Daisy consumed too much today. Daisy doesn't know what to do. Daisy Feels like poo. Daisy feels like a person that is a lot bigger than Daisy really is. Daisy might have to let this seep out of her. Daisy has been bad.

To pro the logue, or to not pro the uh... logue.

So I was wondering if I should write a prologue for the shit of a story that I started yesterday? If I ever decided to actually write another measly chapter.

The prologue would be a recount of the day that Ariana went to the clinic, and how fucked up she was. Just to give you a feel.

I think I will do it, and it is times like these that I wish my three followers and I actually talked, so you could give me some feedback. D':

I will either go ahead with it tonight or tomorrow. Most likely tomorrow as I have nothing planned as of yet. So uh, yeah - look forward to it!