With Every Broken Bone

[I Lived – OneRepublic]

A break from the academic stuff! Except now I’m having a gripe at social pressures again.

Without opening the floodgates of “what the hell is wrong with me?”, I have been thinking about the way that I regard other people around me.

I haven’t been making many efforts to be a ‘good friend’, as such, firstly because I keep telling myself that my 6-7 contact hours a week at uni is so draining, but also because I just want to be home. Many times, when I’m sitting with a group of people with whom I’ve had minimal prior interactions, and there is a lull in the conversation, I wish that I was in front of my computer, doing any old anti-social thing. Whenever I have to make awkward and forced conversation, especially about a future to which I don’t yet know all the prospects, I find myself drifting home.

But, when I’m home, I’m restless. When I am sitting there with my gaming console wondering which mission or enemy I should kill next, I look outside and wonder at the lifestyle of those more active than I. Could I be a person who takes a walk for an hour and comes back with 100+ photos on their camera, a tan line on their arm, and an idea that inspires them? Could I be a person who somehow sticks to a schedule that they set, and actually chase the lifestyle that they envision? Could I put down my comic, and go and write one?

I’m not daunted by the empty page – I avoid it. When I have an idea, I don’t see an empty page for long at all, but when I don’t, I will do anything to not have to look at one.

I have on my weekly planner here that tomorrow I’m supposed to go for a small walk around the area with my new camera, and take some photos for my class. They don’t have to be good photos. They don’t even really need to be of things far away from my house. I could feasibly just go into my backyard and do it; but I shouldn’t.

I’ll try my best to come here tomorrow and attach at least one photo that I took, even if it’s of a frontyard three houses down.

Anyway, what was supposed to be a post about other people turned into my own ineptitude, so back on topic.

Making and acting social cues is hard. When I’m doing it, I do it. But when I have to think about it, I get so tired and irritated. At what point did I start ticking off a list of people with whom I should keep in touch? At what point does someone even make it onto a social to-do list? And what point does someone drop off of one? I want to have those people around, I do, because being around them makes me feel happiness. Except I’m actually having to make a list and prepare to enable that happiness, instead of it naturally being there for me to access. Then there’s that decision to drop someone off the list – except I never realize their name hadn’t shown up until ages later.

Is it okay to do that? Is it okay to slowly just give up on trying to make efforts with someone because there’s no need to?

Enough of that for this time.

I went to some Coldstream vineyards with my parents the other week, mostly so that my dad can buy a few bottles of wine and taste a dozen more. I’m pretty proud of this photo:


Tokar Estate Winery

Don’t worry, I’m not trying to turn into a photographer. My current assignment for class is based on photography, so it’s the flavor of the fortnight. The new camera is for sharing between my dad and me, because he wants to take photos of food, too.


When I Look Into Your Eyes, You’re Not Even There

[Just A Feeling – Maroon 5]

Having a glance over my most popular searches and blog views, it turns out that the post I made years back about Jack’s tutoring in Springvale still seems to get the most traffic. I went to his classes in Yr 12, and I remember in the first year of Uni I was actually emailing people his contact number, but then I changed my phone and lost his number, so I mostly ignored the messages asking me for his number after that.

Is that all I will be remembered for, after all the people who knew me properly are gone? Will the only thing linked to my name (of sorts) end up being my post about how a smart middle-aged man who taught me Maths made a kinda-pretty-sexist joke?

When I told my parents I wanted to be a writer, they said, “Are you going to write the next Harry Potter?” ┬áNo, this isn’t a post about the pressures my parents put on me (that’s for another, longer night), but more about why I don’t try! Why not try to write the next Harry Potter? It may sound really idealistic, but if I just went ahead and not did it, I would miss out on the chance that I may actually be able to do it! There are thousands of writers who write constantly (and incredibly well), only to fall flat and end up at a job that they never wanted, and I could well be one of them, but who is to say I’m also not one of the writers who get published and noticed?

And, if all else fails, I should probably write a fan-fiction of a hugely popular series, change things around, then BOOM a movie will be made within the year!

I just want myself to matter, to make some sort of remark in this world. Yes, in a hundred years, everyone who ever knew me would be dead, so who the hell cares? And even if I do go down in history the way household names such as Shakespeare, Einstein, or even Rowling did, the world is just a temporary tangible mound of atoms, and it’s still not going to matter once those atoms disperse. But still, it feels good to matter. It feels good now, whenever I watch or read something that a friend wrote, and it mentions my name or something I did, because it means that my actions had some impact on someone else, and that they were thinking of me at a point in time. So it would feel even better if something I did is attributed to an entire field of conversation, such as that I changed the way someone or someones think about an issue, or that I was the inspiration for future sources of inspirations. Then, it would feel infinitely better (even if I’m dead), when a hundred years from now, students complain about having to study me at school.

For now, I think I’ll strive for being an inspiration and turning point in someone’s life. I think if I can influence just one person, my time wouldn’t have been wasted.

Tomorrow I should be going out to eat a chicken wing buffet, so at least I can have something to talk about. I PROMISE I won’t write about myself tomorrow, at least.


Let Love Be Our Light And Salvation

[Looking For Angels – Skillet]

I’m currently listening to this song, and as I was listening (I never have listened to this song closely) I finally realized what the lyrics were saying.

In Creative Writing, our current assignment is about poetry, and we have to write our own poetry. I am trying to get the inspiration to start writing, and just get used to the voice I will need.

This song seems to provide some very good inspiration, on an emotional level at any rate.

Walk this world alone try to stay on my feet

Sometimes crawl, fall, but I stand up cause I’m afraid to sleep
And open my eyes to a new day, with all new problems 4. and all new pain
All the faces are filled with so much anger
Losing our dignity and hope from fear of danger
After all the wars, after settling the scores, at the break of dawn we will be deaf to the answers

There’s so much bigotry, misunderstanding and fear
With eyes squinted and fists clinched we reach out for what is dear
We want it we want
We want a reason to live
We’re on a pilgrimage
A crusade for hope
Cause in our hearts and minds and souls we know
We need it we need
We need more than this

Going through this life looking for angels
People passing by looking for angels

Walking down the streets looking for angels
Everyone I meet looking for angels

So many nations with so many hungry people
So many homeless scrounging around for dirty needles
On the rise, teen suicide, when we will realize
we’ve been desensitized by the lies of the world
We’re oppressed and impressed by the greedy
Whose hands squeeze the life out of the needy
When will we learn that wars, threats, and regrets are the cause and effect of living in fear

Who can help protect the innocence of our children
Stolen on the internet with images they can’t forget
We want it we want
We want a reason to live
We represent a generation that wants to turn back a nation
To let love be our light and salvation
We need it we need

We need more than this
I became a savior to some kids I’ll never meet
Sent a check in the mail to buy them something to eat
What will you do to make a difference, to make a change?

What will you do to help someone along the way?
Just a touch, a smile as you turn the other cheek
Pray for your enemies, humble yourself, love’s staring back at me
In the midst of the most painful faces
Angels show up in the strangest of places

– Looking For Angels


You can still be a prostitute if you want…

Wow this is my second Prostitute related post.

Today we had Regeneration Day, where basically we get to wind down and be motivated to keep going after mid years.

I won’t go into detail about what happened, because they were mostly just speakers. Actually it was just speakers. The first guy, Dobbo, was a very engaging speaker. He trained the likes of Grant Hackett (which he reminds us of constantly). Great guy, and had a lot of insight onto the psyche of girls and guys, and how to tackle problems etc.

Had 2 ex-MacRob speakers come in to tell us about their life after high school, and then had a cop come in telling us about “Safe Partying” which seemed redundant. Especially the part where they were saying how it’s illegal for under 18s to drink and have fake IDs. Yeah, nah.

Then had Lawrence Leung come in! Highlight of the day. Pity he didn’t actually talk much he only just showed us the final ep of his “Choose Your Own Adventure” TV show and told us that we can do whatever we want, it’s okay not to know now. He had (on the show) a crossbow made out of cardboard tubes and some rocket fuel stuff that shot out flames. Ace.

I won’t be able to blog for a little while, maybe until the end of the week. Can’t be bothered going into reasons, but basically yeah.

Take care,


Nothing like inspiration

Okay so I just read D.M.’s blog (not sure yet whether she’d appreciate me advertising it so I shan’t) and she had a pretty long ramble about life. And actually, it was inspirational. She didn’t talk about the everyday shit I crap on about, like school and problems with other people. Nup. She talked about herself. And her future, and her past influences. She had a set few on the things in life. Plus she had an awesome picture of a grass pushing its way through asphalt. Which, by all standards, is AMAZING.

I meant the weed, but yes, D.M. is pretty amazing too.

So I thought to myself, “Defluffe,” I said (well I didn’t, I used my real name. I don’t know. Whatever) “maybe it’s time you get a bit existential as well.”

So, what are my future plans?

Right now, I just want to get out of home. I know that in some ways I am spoilt and selfish and all that only-child shit people tend to believe about only children. I don’t know if my parents love me (I don’t think they love me per se, more like the idea of me) but I’m sure when my mom told me she rather I wasn’t her daughter, that was some sort of inkling. No, actually, can’t I just not be able to stand my parents and want to move out and be free? D.M. is so sure about her own morals because of her mom’s, and I’m sure of my morals because of the same thing, but from a different angle, and towards a different direction. D.M. wants to be like her mom. I would rather kill myself than become anything similar to my mother. Once I found myself doing an action that she does, and it nearly made me gag.

I sound like a whingey emo right now, don’t I? Some people would do anything to be able to argue with their parents, because it means that their parents are there. I won’t say that I wish I had their life. In the past I wished I had someone else’s life, or someone else’s parents (still do about the 2nd thing) but now I figure, my life is rockin’ at the mo’, ‘cos I got some really good friends. I mean, if there is anything I will take out of high school, it is that I made some really solid friends.

Wouldn’t it be sad if I revisit this post a few years later, and read back at how naive I was to believe that I would still keep those friends? I’d hate, and I’m scared, to think that I would come back on my 21st birthday and think to myself, “well that friendship went down the drain after graduation.” So I have decided that I would actively try to keep bonds with my closests. I won’t lie to myself, there are probably 90% of my current friends who I won’t bother trying to keep in touch. And included are some people who I say I would keep in touch. Maybe I would initially. But out of sight, out of mind, right? Of that 10% that I would try to keep in touch with, I don’t know who would reciprocate. (ha) maybe I’m not as loved as I’d like to believe.

Postsecret.com, had a postcard of someone saying, “I plan to be hit by a car, just so that when I am in hospital I can find out who my real friends are.” I think that’s quite a…well twisted enough, I think that’s quite an idea. “Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone?” I’ve said this to D.M., “sometimes I wonder what I can do to make them see what they would lose.” She said it was the most depressing thing she’s ever heard me say. Hindsight, yeah. But, nowadays I’m frequently thinking that. Perhaps the stress is getting to me. Perhaps, I am just plain mental. I mean, what, 2 out of 10 people are mental? (Made that up completely) so maybe I’m that 1 out of 2. I mean, not EVERYONE can be those 8, so SOMEONE’s gonna be one of those 2. Probably me.

It’s past nine, and, under my PARENTS’ regime I have to go to bed. I guess it keeps me healthy, except I wake up every morning more tired. The only thing that gets me out of bed is knowing I can see their faces again. This is getting to be a mid-life crisis at 17.

De Fluffe. Out.

P.S. Thank you D.M. for inspiring me. You are definitely in that 10%.