Intricate Patterns.

listening to: questions for an ex-lover - loveisastory.
reading: my desperate love diary pt 2 - liz rettig.

watching: this screen.

eating: air.

drinking: apple & blackcurrant juice with green jelly.

i don't think there's anything that actually makes me happier than those people, you know the ones. the types that you have no previous connections with, that you only just discover what a diamond in the rough they are, only less lame. more sort of the life on mars that you didn't think was there, but then you realised it was on amerika's tortured brow all along.

a world that is constructed of inside jokes and laughter chokes.

the types of people that you love just sitting there and talking to, the types where the conversation lacks direction, but somehow is fulled to the brim with tear jerking and ideally explicit content. the type that is just like you: r-e-b-e-l-l-i-n-g against the system, the club of scrubs, the leaders of breeders, the races of laces. (those dr martens won't tie themselves!)

mashing buttons with the greatest of timing, with the sound of our power-ups chiming.

i think this world would be so much better if we had more people that are more ideologically stimulating at 10pm, after their second cold-meat dinner, than those types who are only briefly stimulating after their 10am stimulants. (you do the math, unless you're more creatively inclined.) i feel like i've forgotten something, only the problem is, i can't remember what i forgot.

just a heads up: what i'm listening to is probably the saddest song i've ever heard. so in short, refrain from listening, or you may die of broken organs. and we all know that broken organs, when they repair, have the tendency to fit back broken and mutilated.

fortunately for me, as t-w-i-s-t-e-d as my laughter is, it brings smiles. :)

Ohkrana-rama.

listening to: two weeks - grizzly bear.

reading: my desperate love diary pt 2 - liz rettig.

watching: that 70s show.

drinking: water.

eating: air.

so i've come to the conclusion after many discussions with kids like smaz and punchie-boo, that the thing that frustrates me about IGS is the fact that the teachers have their own gestapo going on, like a secret police that stalks everything we do.

they are the ohkrana, the gestapo, the ankhar...with all seeing eyes, like a pineapple. (boy overboard reffs)

they are everywhere.

don't think your blogs, facebook, or parties are safe.

chances are, if it happens, if it's sent, if it's posted. they are gonna know about it.

i'm not going to lie, some of the kids in the student leader group i wasn't very happy with.

i wasn't expecting or wanting to get in, i just honestly wanted a group of kids that were genuine and genuinely wanted to make our houses and school place a better environment.

genuine being the key word.

but i have complete confidence that a few of them will manage to do that, however, i believe that some people did deserve to be student leaders that didn't get in, like georgia davis (love that girl) and nat earl (would've made an excellent gura boy leader!) but what are you gonna do? life was meant to screw you over.

on a slightly happier note, i found out today that i will indeed be keeping my legs (everyone who gets this, do a bit of a victory dance) and that my parents by order of the hospital will have to have diabetes for a week! take that mum. (testing when i test, injecting saline, eating at correct times etc)

it is going to go off.

Broken Legs.

listening to: basic space - XX.
reading: my desperate love diary pt 2 - liz rettig.
watching: that 70s show (eric forman have my babies)
eating: dried apricot and walnuts.
drinking: water.

love is so fickle, it starts with a flood,
and ends with a trick-trick-trick-trickle.

i honestly fleetingly recognised how amazing it is having people that still appreciate the importance of coming up with a sincerely good quality code when you can't be stuffed listening to patulny rant on about "exploring the definition of murder" and "what self-love really is". thank you smaz for making this morning's english lesson one of the best this year so far. i honestly couldn't have been more amused. i've decided we should turn it into a font on our computer, simply because we can (in the way that iago "simply could" destroy jon othello).

turtle moment of the day: no sir, i don't think it's appropriate that after five months of failing to acknowledge my existence, feeling that it's okay to neck pinch me and chat to me. even if you did believe me to be your pretty lady friend.

an interesting fact for everyone: did you know that super low calorie nutrient water tastes like what would happen if you mixed armpit sweat with strawberry panadol? my tongue basically fell out of my mouth and bailed hard on me (but unlike that beer ad, it didn't bring back a tasty cold hahn for me. devvo.)

this voting buisness was so much more intense than it needed to be. i'm not going to lie, student leadership is so stupid. however, when those pretty year 10 girls came up to me and directly told me they had voted for me, i suppose all those surpressed years of unpopularity came to fruition, and i suddenly felt very happy and included. i would actually l-a-u-g-h if i got it.

what an excellent leader i would make. topping my year for tardiness to school. baha.

Poignant, But Deluded.

listening to: amazing - blue october.

reading: my desperate love diary - liz rettig.

watching: the channel that dictates whether or not to mass suicide if TA becomes PM.

eating: air.

drinking: pepsi max.

i scratch at your waistline, your doll hair.
i dig up the thought of how your eyes glow.

i've come to the realisation (yes, today's epiphany) that it takes two of each kind.

noah and his fammers had the right idea. see, in a relationship (friend or more) i honestly believe that the "opposites attract" rule applies heavily to at least 80% of relationships.

there has to be a talker and a listener.

but tonight driving back in the car with dad, we explored this theory in greater depth, and actually discussed the misconceptions that people hold of those particular stereotypes.

a talker doesn't necessarily mean all they do is mindlessly ramble on. albeit that's what i do 90% of the time (yeah, i'm a talker. shock. horror.) there are other times when i say valid, constructive things and make fairly structured and sensical points.

a listener doesn't necessarily always listen, they do infact speak, however they ponder their thoughts more rather than spewing out word vomit, and tend to drive the conversation with ease, with perhaps one question that leaves everybody discussing.

it's difficult to find people like that, i would say. hard to find people that you easily click with.

but i've found a good group of kids. and i appreciate the fact that i can speak to people on the same intellectual level as me, and actually properly engage. cheers guys.

Heart And Soul.

listening to: still thrives this love - k.d. lang.

reading: my desperate love diary - liz rettig.

watching: love, actually.

eating: blueberry yoghurt.

drinking: valencia orange nutrientwater.

there seems to be a bit of a theme going on here.

i don't understand how k.d. lang's beautiful voice can sway my mood and my hips simultaneously.
her voice is absolutely astounding, and if nobody has had the pleasure of listening to her, i highly recommend it. just make sure you have your lover next to you, hawhaw.

her lyrics are naught but genius, and her amazing tone control...i can't comprehend someone to be that talented. she's the perfect mixture of modern with the old fashioned dirty dancing.

if only i could actually dance, i would be right now...

guess it's time to find a tall, attractive boy to do the cute "let me put you on my feet" thing.

Compliment Each Other Like Colours.

listening to: at this particular moment in time - playradioplay!

reading: a clockwork orange - anthony burgess.

watching: nothing.

eating: subway cookies.

drinking: blueberry tea.

what do you do? (when your life's a disaster) i take it slow because i have time.

what do you say? (when you know something's right) back to the days when you were mine.

i won't be 'aving none of this appy polly logies. i'm doing quite alrighty right right on me oddy knocky. and to be swank, i couldn't glove you more than me german rooty toots and everyfin else that came along forthwith to the sociables. yes sir, no more dare i say than the casio-tone black and whites, no more than the sweets to the sweet sense of givin' a malenky bit of a t-o-l-c-h-o-k-i-n-g with the bolshy big boots, no more sir, than the horrorshow feeling of belching out the stinking tunes of me forefathers, and dare i say i shall never glove you in the way i glove this uvver 'ere malchickywick.

(enough nadsat for today, i should imagine)

now for the real part. i guess this is basically about many topics.

like how great chilled blueberry tea is after a mighty long bikeride, or perhaps how fantastic it is when somebody says you remind them of the "graveyard girl" in an m83 song, or a vampire in a very non-twilight show. or perhaps even how great it is to go walkies in the dark of night, hand in hand with an old friend, respecting those that are passed, being careful not to step on the gravestones. or maybe it's about how through absolute devastation, one can rise up to a feeling of utmost happiness.

i'm sitting here, thinking about all the silly things i did when i was 15. how i went from the most innocent of beings to what can only be described as...well, not sheltered, i guess. sure, i've made some mistakes, but i'm only human (and i'm man enough to face 'em today - eminem. wot.)

but you know, like jon said, i'm happy i've got a great group of friends that don't feel the need to destroy their lives in order to live to the best of their ability.

i love the fact that ru knits.

i love the fact that chelyne knows almost every song from the 80s off by heart.

i love the fact that arielle still plays pokemon, and knows all the themes.

i love the fact that lasry and lambie still have nerf gun wars. (NERRRFFFF)

i love the fact that passas speaks japanese, even though he's greek.

i love the fact that jordan won't eat unsulfured apricots.

i love the fact that sam hardly ever speaks, yet he still gets all my jokes.

and last but not least, i love the fact that even though i've been one of the most emotionally charged, angsty, frightened, clingy friend pretty much ever to walk the planet, my dear marebear stuck with me the whole time.

i'm sticking with you. because i'm made out of glue.

anything that you might do. i'm going to do too.

so there are different kinds of love, i've come to realise.

there's the sort of love where you enjoy the basic company of someone, and you can't imagine lunchtimes without them, because they always make you laugh.

there's the sort where you have a friend who you can tell a lot of things, and you know that they'll be there when they can, and your secrets are safe.

there's the kind of love where despite everyone telling you someone is a bad person, you put it all aside and love them through thick and thin, and you form your own opinion.

there's that love where you absolutely adore someone, and you can't imagine the rest of your life without them, they complete you, and if they ever left, you'd be empty, like a hollow shell.

and then there's the best kind. the kind of person that will love you forever, and despite some arguments, will never let you down. they are always there, doing everything with you, never abandoning you at the drop of the hat. the kind of person i'm talking about, is the type of person that cherishes every moment with you, comes away from you smiling, the kind of person where your heart jumps into your throat and you want to glomp them aggressively every time you see them. they are your soul.

this my friends, is the biffle.

it's a rare phenomenon amongst teenagers, and to find a completely trustworthy and beautiful one is very difficult to come by. and i thank old bog every day that i have someone as special as her. :)

Sugarfoot Dancing.

listening to: schism - tool.

reading: my old journal.

watching: fosters home for imaginary friends on cartoon network.

eating: air.

drinking: water.

so much for a viscereal experience. the only thing i experienced was stale cereal when i got home. there's something dangerous about growing up, i feel sort of similar to T.S. Eliot, he's getting all caught up in the conundrum that is time, and i'm sitting here having a whinge about the same thing. now i finally understand how he feels. getting older SUCKS.

right about now, i'd be sitting here with my close friends, on my dull and lifeless grey carpet, eating baked goods and practicing to be handy-crafty for when i became an old nana, knitting bedsocks for my grandkids (and i still miss my oma's socks & gingerbread), but i guess the saying goes "i'll do it tomorrow", when i don't feel like my stomach is in my toes.

today is going to be a day of change. i'm throwing out all my old clothes, and tomorrow, i'm going shopping for an entirely new wardrobe. say hello to dark greens, deep reds, chocolate browns, blacks, white, greys and my brand new terracotta boat shoes. i finally feel like i'm getting somewhere with my personal style, and all i have to do now is lose a decent amount of weight so i'll look excellent in it all.

but i still pose the question: what the hell is yaleto?

(am i right, easyway-ers?)

Somewhere Around Here.

listening to: an imagined affair - elbow.

reading: gad's travels blog.

watching: happy tree friends, season 3, episode 7; this is your knife.

eating: milk chocolate.

drinking: water.

i'm back home again. can't say it's the greatest feeling ever, infact; i think i'd much rather be in s-l-o-wbart.
had an amazing weekend with the people i am most at ease with. can't say i didn't completely melt at the prospect of my saturday night being spent making gourmet pizzas (cutting them with scissors!) and getting pwned in halo by gads. best part was when bogcheese got scoped and annihilated. haha.

zoom. a-i-m. BANG.

/clean cut./

i've been in a strange post-tassie blues. listening to elbow songs on repeat because they're so melancholy and slow. got lots of new music with lots of different moods and sounds, and am enjoying it greatly. it was pleasant to come home, however, and find my darling cat (not you, finbar, the other one) curled up on my bed waiting for me. she meowed like crazy for what seemed like minutes on end, and smooched all up on me and followed me around like a lost puppy. it was cute, in a pathetic sort of way.

today whilst purchasing my dodgy dinner of vegetarian hokkien noodles and a strawberry boost, the cute boy alex who works there remembered who i was, and asked me for my number. not knowing what to do, i scribbled it down, threw it at him, and ran off. sometimes i doubt the people who believe i'm socially apt.

i have to say for the first time in something like five months, i'm not feeling sad or unloved. infact, today at school, despite having only three hours of sleep the night before, i realised that a lot of people were actually pleased to see me, and all stopped to say hello and have a chat. also, i'm not hopelessly wishing that the only person i ever cared about will have a sudden change in t-w-i-s-t-e-d heart, infact, i have (after a very long healing process) moved on to a different person. a kind and loving person, who doesn't lie to me, and doesn't treat me with disrespect.

although i don't think he knows i exist.

it's so fun being a dorky brunette who looks at wookiepedia in her spare time (star wars wiki), designs new futuristic weapons on paint, sits on her own and plays left for dead two & team fortress two (and who could forget good old counterstrike source?), knows all the moons of the planets in star wars, is fluent in nadsat, and dreams of the day when she can own an /authentic/ star trooper print apron.

love my life.

Forever Young.

listening to: faster the treadmill - i fight dragons.
reading: knit two by kate jacobs.
watching: flight of the conchords, season one, episode four; yoko.
eating: air.
drinking: water.

it's actually really quite frightening when after a few years, you truly realise how much you've changed. and the worst part about being a teenager is, even though majority of us really don't like ourselves (unless we're conceited arrogant bastards, i could name a few) we have to suck it up, and take all the things we like and accept the rest for what it is.

i was speaking to two very good friends of mine earlier on today, both who had m-o-v-e-d away to different parts of our planet, and now they are both back for their respective time slots. we discussed many interesting things like putting toothpaste up nostrils, why people eat pre-sliced meat when you can cut it yourself, early pregnancy and steroid in cream form.

but it made me think, and i realised that there situations would be so completely different had all of this occured when we were much younger, and it got me thinking about how i valued who i was so much more as a kid. i don't know whether or not i should do something about this, or if i even can.

can you possibly restore innocence? or is that something that just leaves along with your dignity when you turn sixteen? i don't know if i can handle growing up. i'm seventeen next year. it's the fail age that doesn't really signify anything except for "suck it up loser, you're going to be a legalised adult in a year, so you better get all your angsty teen hate out now while you can."
and let's be fair, even if it does suck to be angsty and hateful, we're totally not going to be allowed to do that when we hit twenty.

so basically what i'm trying to say is:
you need to be innocent because you're afraid of how much you've changed?

do what i do.
swear less, eat fruitcups and play neopets.

Den Of Thieves.

listening to: your hand in mine - explosions in the sky.

reading: emily booth's writing.

watching: doctor who, season 3, episode: the long game.

eating: dried fruit and nuts.

drinking: air.

being dangled over a pit of shrinks your entire life isn't exactly the kind of thing you enjoy when you're a reclusive, bookworm, boot-stomping, j-o-u-r-n-a-l-l-i-n-g hermit of a teenager. i'm getting sort of tired of all of the poor analogies that they use, and they're relentless, repetitive one-liners ("and how do you feel about that?"), and who could forget the methodical, admirable-sympathetic prowess ("how do you do that? coping with all of that? i wish i could do that like you do!").

we're all pretty /darn/ sick of it. in short.

"morgan, have you ever eaten a food that you adored as a kid, but now you hate?"

"uh yeah, pickled onions."
"morgan, you are his pickled onion."

(oh my god, you've got to be joking...)

"morgan, you're like a strong building, with three main foundations."

"which are?"

"well one, your school, that keeps you in routine and keeps you busy."
"mm, right. and?"
"the next would be your family. they love and support you."

"HA. yeah, keep going."

"why did you laugh?"

"no reason. keep going."
"and of course, your lover."

"eww, don't use that word."

"okay, boyfriend."

"mm, not much better."

"anyway, one of those foundations have fallen out from under you."

"three guesses which."

"and now you will crumble and fall, or end up like piza on a /slant/."

"and the resolution?"

"i didn't have one. didn't really know where i was going with that..."

(double oh my god, are you serious?!)

don't even waste your breath guys. i mean, every teenager (well, that i know) is a resilient beast, and we all do perfectly fine without you people hanging over us when we do or say anything out of the norm. i'm on a road of self-discovery, for goodness sake.

if you kiss a girl, it doesn't make you a lesbian.

if you get high, it doesn't make you a drug addict.

if you are (curvy), it doesn't make you ((fat)).

if you talk with a large vocabulary, it doesn't make you a smartarse.

if you like maths and are good at it, it doesn't make you a nerd.

if you YELL at someone for being a jerk, it doesn't make you a bitch.

p.s. shout out to smaz. i've only just realised that you are probably the most awesome person to have italian with. the fact that you are known purely for drinking the one particular softdrink (and it's the best! solo!) and that you're basically one of the only people that actually GETS me and my retarded sense of humour...i commend you.

Drinking Tea When It's Cold.

listening to: she's got you high - mumm-ra.
reading: yen magazine, issue 45.
watching: my facebook for any messages.
eating: unsalted cashews.
drinking: air.




i don't really understand how julia stone could live on a diet entirely of chocolate and cigarettes.
i mean, that's sort of a paradox. chocolate gets you fat. cigarettes make you thin.
maybe she's like mary, and just wants to plateau, so she stays the /same/ weight.

hah. i wish.

today was a day of gratitude.

i am grateful that i have amazing friends at school, that love me for who i am and don't think i'm emotionally intense or an annoying person to deal with. i love the fact that i can sit in sickbay writing in my journal and drinking chicken noodle soup, wrapped up in a fleece blanket with dolphins on it, that i stole from bronte leighton-dore, and nobody questions it. i love the fact that i have the greatest best friend, who's undeniably loyal to me, and loves me just as much as i love her.

and as strange as it may seem, i love the fact that i have feelings for a boy who is much too advanced for me, and much too amazing, and probably doesn't know i exist.

i absolutely must organise this whole friday night textiles club. i'm wondering which wools to buy, and whether or not everyone has some sort of knitting needles? maybe i should contact people via the only way anyone ever recieves anything.

good old facebook.

Morning Glory.

listening to: we own the sky - M83.
reading: the wonderful message mary wrote me in my book.
watching: happy tree friends season 2 episode 4; meat me for lunch.
eating: air.
drinking: water.

i honestly love you more deeply than i can describe, or maybe my small vocabulary doesn't permit sappy emotional feel-gooders. in any case, you are basically the reason i breathe.
don't think i don't need you in my life, because the truth is:

i really, REALLY do.

today my heart lept out of my face when i saw your soft, pixie-like hair blowing in the b-r-e-e-z-e.
you smiled in that amazing way, that no other human can replicate, and i nearly melted with happiness. i just wanted to kiss you, and thank you tenderly for everything you have done.
because, to be fair, you've done so much more than anyone else i know. and you continue to do things for me everyday. things that i didn't think friends COULD do for one another.

but somehow, you find a way.

soft, mellow synth plays on surround, and my head hurts from the brightness of the stop sign on my wall. it has good intentions, but does it really need to burn into my skull? maybe i should just get lakita to crack it. my thought cards are helping, and i'm sure this beautiful book will too. i love your made-up swears, i love your dark eyes, your vibrant laugh, your beautiful greek nose.
you are so goddamn greek. but it's okay, you'll make an excellent yaya.

i wish you were here with me all the time. but unfortunately, that would make me the clingiest clinger to cling, and that would be simply awkies. but when i do see you, i treasure every moment.

because unlike me, you have a life.
and dreams.
and extra curricular activities.

like i said, i know you love him, but please, somewhere, leave some space in that heart of yours for me. because nobody has ever loved me like you do.