Thursday, April 28, 2005

a story i found on a livejournal commnity

disclaimer:i found this on livejournal... someone wrote it and i saved it ages ago... i dont know it seemed sweet. i dont take any credit for it etc etc dont sue my ass




"We sat in a chair on the lawn that overlooked the tennis courts and pool and the field that didn't have any crops or animals (I'll never understand why you needed all that land just for a trampoline). I was barefoot, we both were now that I think about it we had gotten up and out of bed and walked down to the kitchen so that we could grab something to drink out of the refrigerator. I wonder now if I'll ever be comfortable enough with anyone else to walk in and open their refrigerator to ask their mother if there was anything she wanted from inside to play hostess when they have parties to be the one to grab the drinks. I suppose now I know that that isn't normal when you're 16 and barely that, but I didn't know that then. I think that was part of the reason it was so easy.

and it was raining, finely. i wasn't exactly getting soaked or anything but it made my hair begin to frizz around my face and you took your hands and pressed it back against where it was supposed to be. The sun was setting and you sat with your legs wide it was harder for me to sit on your lap that way i had to throw mine even wider to get to the outsides of yours, but i was always more flexible than you and you liked to remind me of it. Your hands were clasped and rested on my stomach and i scratched softly at your forearms (they were wider then, you've lost so much weight now). You didn't like to not be touching me. When we stood in lines for movies we always stood with your arms around my waist. We could never have been mistaken for close friends or anything like that wherever we were you found some way to touch me. You held my hand in malls even when you reached for your wallet to buy something and I suppose it looked strange to people that even when we were rehashing a story or something to friends you held me and kissed at my shoulders, but i got used to it. It's where I began the idle habit of leaning against peoples backs while they buy something or wait in a line, that way you wouldn't have to hold my hand. It looked so much less strange that way.

And so i guess that's why it got so hard for both of us to delineate where you ended and I began. We weren't able to decide what my responsibilities to myself were or to you or yours to me and where that ended, and sooner or later you started being completely responsible for both of us. And that's hard for a boy ( because that's what you are a boy, even now at 19 you're a boy). You shouldn't have had to hold us both up, but i didn't give you that responsibility you gave it to yourself, although i let you. I suppose I'm just as much at fault for that.

I guess that's why on that day in that place when we jumped out of bed and walked downstairs and I ran out of the door and then we sat on a chair in the rain and watched the sun go down while the high grass tickled our calves and my hair curled around my face and you kissed me hard on the mouth it made everything a little better. As if by kissing you made the load a little lighter.

and i used to think about stuff like that all the time. I do it less and less now.

I guess it's cause i woke up one morning and stopped loving you."

i was thinking today, how my granpa donated his body to the uni so they could do pracs n shit on it and im so goin to do the same thing
i dont know how much they pay you, but seriously think of the deals
"i give you my body for 50, and my soul for 10 aye"
you could sell your soul or make it part of the whole bargain. like "body for 50 WITH A FREE SOUL!!!" or you could make them pay foryour soul as well as your body in one of those deals where you HAVETOBUY the soul to get the body so theyre paying for something they cant experiement on anyway.
and think
you could sell your body to unis overseas. you may never get to travel in your living lifetime but your corpse could be traveling to madrid first class

The thing is, as I was saying to someone, it comes back. And every time it happens you get that sense its in you, its your doing, it must be something you have about you that makes them do it.


That it’s in you.


And every time, no matter how small or big the effect, the action, the ‘whatever’ that’s indescribably bad and you don’t exactly know what it was but you don’t feel ok about it, that same guilt that same shame that once again you’ve done the dirty work that you’re the dirt that you’re everything that caused and took place in that situation that you are the issue and the cause and there’s no solution for you because you deserved it for whatever you did.


Honestly, there is shame in saying its happened. It’s not a delicate subject. Its not something you can sit down and talk about just like that.


I don’t know why it happened. I don’t know why it happened a few times. I don’t have many answers. I don’t know if it will happen again. I am scared it will happen again. It’s a possibility that’s there everyday all the time. I haven’t gone to the course for three days because of it. I can’t go tomorrow because I cant. I’m fucking pathetic.


And its not something to be treaded lightly either which makes it completely frustrating.

So I’m gonna stop writing and sleep before I look to deeply.  

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

hey people if anyone's interested in helping me organise a fundraiser to raise money/ raise awareness of fistulas and the fistula hospital in addis ababa, put your name down ... it will be in septmember, or around there so theres heaps of planning time. if anyone can write really really persuasive letters to certain media agents ... to get maggie taberer to it (theres a reason or 6 why maggie t) help is needed cos i canna write for shyte

any suggestions or ideas welcome


plan so far...


Fistula fundraising


 



  1. Bracelets, book by catherine hamlin...

 



  1. Tesfa Ineste – let’s give them hope in ethiopian, motto of hospital...

 


 


3.   needed



  1. Cinema – Wallis/Kensington preferable.

  2. Media personality – Maggie Tabberer – read biography

  3. Fliers – melly!

·        Front page – ‘Tesfa Ineste – let’s give them hope’


·        Inside introductory, Fistulas and information about doctor Catherine Hamlin 


·        Maggie Tabberer


·        Plot of movie


·        Wheelchair access


·        Website, contact details


·        Thankyou to sponsors like cinema, Harry m miller, schools


 


 



  1. African food

·        Ingredients


·        Description


 


 



  1. Movie appropriate to cause – women based, 30-60 age group, comedy/drama. Not action.

 


9.        Local advertisements.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005



dave, my friend, you are a genius...

Monday, April 25, 2005

Playing with my dog in the snow while my husband lights a fire and pours me a glass of wine (which I'll feel even more because of my diet pills and valium and the fact that I haven't eaten all day and then I'll sneak a joint in the shower


 


Insomnia makes me a tad loopy


So moonie is now writing in a blog… not too sure how it will go. Livejournal was a bit intense and since I cant find the friends-only device on this damn thing I’ll have to stick with it.


So after 3 horus of lying in bed listening to Betchaupda’s Spill the Light on repeat I’ve come to a few conclusions


mobile phones are a waste of space unless in emergency.


I am fearing failure. In fact I’m terrified of it.


 


FAILURE <<an ugly ugly word


 


Scared of getting less than A = not bothering to studying at all… why bother etc.


I do not try hard st-studying BECAUSE I set high standards (everythign must be A. everything) and ofcourse when I get stressed out I don’t tend to study I tend to do er… nothing.


Because after a while you realise you’re so far behind the class that there’s NO POINT studying. So I do badly. Because I didn’t try hard enough because I was paranoid I’d get a B. in actual fact I could’ve managed an A but because I was scared of getting a B I didn’t try.


Solution: setting realistic goals, iming to get certain amount of work done per day. Sticking  to schedule. And hoping for the best obviously


 


 


Rejection from friends, being ‘dumped, left out, etc =Not calling friends, cutting off communication, not making effort to see them


Thankyou paranoia. Seriously. The worst feeling is when you think someone doesn’t like you anymore, or is being particularly cold or distant so you assume you’ve done something wrong when in actual fact, you frigid cold aloof ice queen, they’ve felt exactly the same thing coming from you. It’s like a vicious circle…


So yeah here’s the problem especially coming to this whole ‘I’m going into town’ shit.


What


The


Fuck


And what’s real polite is going to someone’s 18th and then people leaving to go to town. Thanks … ‘course that’s quite suitable depending on the company.


I can’t wait til I turn 18, and go into town, prolly get pissed depending on the atmosphere… but please hit me or slip it quietly when I go overboard and forget that not everything revolves around the exchange/the gutter.


I figured the Friday after I turn 18 I’ll have something for everyone who’s not 18 or doesn’t fancy drinking to excess or whatever. And Saturday night I go to town and do that stuff. But I am also having an outing with –lumberjack- which means no drinking because I respect his views a lot more than I respect my own and he’ll only have 2 months in Australia by then L so making it worth it. Anyone who wants to meet lumberjack should tagalong. But no drinking please that’s just disrespectful.


I find a lot of what I hear about exciting but its just annoying that I cant somehow be a part of it all or be a contributor to people having fun or something. Lately all I can do is sit back and moan and watch and moan. Because it makes you incredibly jealous after 7+ months of not going out, not getting drunk with friends (getting drunk on two vodka cruisers on the weekend with my parents friends did not count. They were not technically my friends. I would not picture myself discussing interesting stuff like how hot the builder next door was.)*


Oh wait and another thing, saying, “Oh wait you cant come you’re not 18 haha” is neither elegant nor dignified.


But apart from that, every week I’m going to start anew and make sure I keep in contact with people… well try to, writing letters and this means people I haven’t spoken to for a while so if you chance across this and hey presto you get a letter don’t be surprised. I’m going to write a letter to Lauren. I haven’t communicated with Lauren since stephs and defying other reasons therefore there are no reasons not for me to not write to her. << Couldn’t write that properly.


But whatever. It’s worth keeping in contact with people even if they fall into the category of acquaintances. And what’s more you learn a lot more from other people than you learn from yourself.


 


So that’s basically the two main most important fears of failure. Next day, or later I’ll take a look at boys (gurgghhrr) and food (nnnerreeghh) and fascinate myself with the amount of psychiatric issues relating both with and between those two.


 


 


*He was so hot!! you don’t understand… I had a pair of binoculars on him for 2 hours… he was like 50 but from 400 metres away and with those legs…. Phwoar.


 


 

Travelling swallowing Dramamine Feeling spaced breathing out listerine I'd said what I'd said that I'd tell ya And that you'd killed the better part of me If you could just milk it for everything I've said what I'd said and you know what I mean But I still can't focus on anything We kiss on the mouth but still cough down our sleeves

Travelling swallowing dramamine Look at your face like you're killed in a dream And you think you've figured out everything I think I know my geography pretty damn well You say what you need so you'll get more If you could just milk it for everything I've said what I said and you know what I mean But I can't still focus on anything