I am sick and tired of writing the same words.

I seem to be the living incarnation of one step forward two steps back. laadeedaa where the hell do we go from here....

Right now I would be very happy to be the happy idiot. Oh the joy of leading an unexamined, blissfully bare life. I think I would like that very much indeed. Fuck self analysis and awareness all that ever got me was dug into a cramped little hole. It might be my wonderfully addictive personality but of course it cannot just be a poignant thought or considering the consequences of something...it has to be a full tear the house down, cavity search style invasion. Nothing can ever be simple god forbid! thats bloody bleasphamy....i really shouldnt be using words I cannot spell but that would drastically reduce my vocabulary. Its like when you stare at somethin too close for too long..your eyes start to hurt, it gives you a headache more importantly you arent actually seeing anything but a blurred mess which could be a subparticle of some whole that you will never see just because you are too fuckin close. Step back you idiot! god its hard to teach a fool. haha...

This is all getting very confusing and silly. I feel like the really fat girl who wants to be a pagent queen. And she tells people and they all have that look, ..u know the look. The like fuckin hell u'll be a beauty queen. The polite ones dont laugh out loud..well they wait till she leaves first and she walks on....insisting on being oblivious to the irony, crying about the other skinny girls who she will never look like, screaming about horrible standards and unachievable goals and then starves and screams more trying to fit into the gown . Now maybe that wasnt a good analogy because this has nothing to do with fat and even less to do with beauty pagents..but the general idea is there. The point is why do something you dont love. More importantly why do something you have no inclination towards. I seem to be misappropriating this whole ambition.Anybody can rant mildly amusing bullshit but that doesnt equate to an ability or affinity for writing. So I need to be content with being average and find somthing to do within the limits of that scope or pick a new goddamn ambition. When I grow up I want to be....

maybe I'll be an acrobat. Now I'll just have to work on touching my toes...wait..do acrobats even need to touch their toes?....answers.com is not being helpful on that one. boo!

first off...Nicole, you do not laugh in real life so stop typing fake laughter online. I have told you this many times already. and estacy...hahahah one word nicole...BULLSHIT!

and now on to the non- Nicoles....ah well Im trying to be good. I am trying to have a good week. I dont have all the excuses that I once relied on so this is kind of unnavigated territory. Its weird...but I spent so long trying to get away and be normal. And now that im somewhere in the vacinity thought I concede that I will never quite accomplish normal, It might have to do with the great deal of awesomeness that surrounds me but anyways.. where was I.. ah Normal. Yes so now Im at a place where Im not in continual pursuit of being a complete blithering idiot with every breath. Im not doing stupid things and being a general pain in my own ass. I am not trying to actively destroy every possible permutation of the future. I am not hating getting out of bed in the mornings. heck..I am actually getting out of bed in the morning. Well some mornings But all the same yay! for me...

Its just that little bit more that just will not come to me. perhaps its about discipline and will both of which with a regualrly functioning head I should be able to come up with. But I dont really think ive ever been remotely disciplined...or strong willed. And therein the problem lies. Im not being a lazy fuck but ..ugh...

Well I wrote a bit. just put down ideas in a notebook, yes a new one cause you always need a new note book. There isnt too much noise.. there are actual words, well more like a general idea.. which is seemign to huge to ever actually come together, but that isnt something for me to worry about is it. Just fill up the pages and the rest will work itself out somehow.. I think.

i've gone and jinxed it...

..........That pretty much says it all really.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/dylan-snow/19586/in/set-600/

I love that tattoo so much...Its actually what inspired me to want to get the lines from blake tattooed on me. Now all that stands between me and a lifetime with those four beautiful lines on my arm is money.

secrets and lies.

So I made notes today about that little book that Im never going to write. I mean seriously, I opened the book and my head was screaming who the fuck are you trying to kid..you're not actually ever going to write it. But I did scribble a page. Thats a start. Its more then I did yesterday.

Can you cure yourself of idealism? Thats been the question of the week. Im one of those foolishly silly people who believes in the power of an idea. And that silliness continues......I think Im supposed to write because it going to help somebody. Just like the way his honesty and his ideas helped me, kept me alive. Whether I could actually be that honest... I dont know. This blog is actually kind of an experiment with honesty. I have a written journal which by an large keeps me sane..and this. . its everything that Im comfortable with someone else knowing. Whats in between.. and how Im supposed to write it without damaging myself, I have absolutely no idea.

I never thought myself to be a good writer, I dont have a particualy way with language or an affinity for prose. Heck I can barely spell but, all this has worked (in my head at least) under the assumption that the one thing I could do was to be honest. About those moments when we'd rather not be or when we're completely isolated... Evidenly not I guess at least not when it involves me. But then again that is the point of writing isnt it.. You get to reveal your deepest darkest secrets, my most horrible thoughts and pass them off as creation..fiction. Something distinct from the person you are everyday. Neither fear nor consequence.

But Im still afraid of everything that these bloody words tell and everything behind them.

Youth Without Youth.

So that was an interesting movie. It ended and I walked out of the theatre not entirely sure if I completely understood it. I suppose if it makes you think about it long after you've seen it then they must have done something right.
I think it was uite nicely shot, weird angles and georgous backdrops, I wish I appreciated that more. But I guess I am by nature drawn to word and themes more then visuals. So I think perhaps its about the transience of time and our own existances. About how we straddle this lifeline thats rooted in the past and the future, what we make of it I suppose depends on our own choices and reaction to the situation. Do we form an emotional connection to all that history that each of us carries with us, whether consciously or not. Or do we live in a future that sometimes our imaginations can bring to be. I wish I understood physics better and the extent to which science can explain time and reality, but I had trouble with the right hand rule so needless to say my knowledge of physics is rightly pathetic.

Or maybe it was just about a guy mind fucking his way through life. He said he could wake up from it if he really tried, that really stuck with me I guess. I mean can't we all. If we really wanted to. Stop lying to ourselves. I for one must stop lying that I am trying. Because I am not and, if I really wanted to I could. Or so I'd like to believe.

Mind fucking........

So wednesday came and went. The story still remains ....languishing. I have barely touched it, its just sitting like horrid boiled bland peas at the corner of my plate. I always hated peas. My mother liked them because they were pretty, green and neat. Strange woman that one. Anyways back to the story....ha... Where did I ever get it in my head that I should write. Me the overly critical chronic procrastinator; nothing would ever get finished. It would all either be too stupid or left for later. Which is pretty much how things are going. Ugh!... I need a new career plan.

Chronic Procrastinator.

If you didnt know what the words meant you might think I was some kind of doctor...or really bendy porn star. um well maybe I need to contemplate a change of intended career. Im not all that flexible so really bendy porn star is out. And my grandma still thinks that after law school Im going to medical school to become a doctor, so thats an option. um...I don't really have many marketable skills to speak off. I can carry five glasses in one hand and I know what goes into a rum and coke but, thats basically it. Oh there was this one job I had where I made sandwiches..but mine always looked kinda messy. Um...So what to do. what to do when I grow up?

The point of this was so I would be pushed to write. Brilliant plan genuis! I still have that one story that has been languishing around while I plan rewrite after rewrite ..in to oblivion. As with everything, I put so much pressure on myself till there is nothing but stomachaches and nerves that result.

"The Adventures of the Loan Ranger and the Cup on the Living Room Table". Ha...It will make sense in context. In context its actually particularly brilliant; I think at least. Wed, Im going to work on it till wed and whatever's left on wed will be the final version because at the rate Im going , I will be writing the same short story when Im fourty seven.

Im 23.. How and when exactly I got to be 23, Im not entirely sure but it is what it is. I think I got left behind at some point.. Well not left behind but at some point I stopped going in the direction that everyone else was going. The way we were all supposed to be headed and now Im in a bit of a woozy place. Good woozy I think.Wait ..Is woozy a word??

Word of the day...

Woozy
1. Dazed or confused.
2. Dizzy or queasy.

Um..so woozy is a word. And here I thought I invented it... Boo...!

I dont particularly like the fact that I seem to have a bit of trouble being a bitch when its warranted. Why the hell should I try to be polite to someone who I dont quite know or like. Other peoples perceptions are messing with me I think. ha..

But to be duely noted. Yes I might drink and party a bit too much and think what you will of that.......with some rum it will barely bother me. But, I dont quite appreciate some drunk mother fucker getting all grabby and clingy on the false perception of what a stupid asshole like himself would assume a girl who likes to drink or dance would like to do. Then again I am talking about a Drunk asshole, so maybe the benefit of the doubt ensues.

Anyways, after a 15hour nap I feel better....Much better...all the rum has left me. And I never want to see another glass of rum and coke..until next wednesday..haha.

TO DO
- stop begining my sentences with conjunctions. Conjunctions join sentences Michelle. Join.!..It gets to a point where its just bad writing doesnt it.
- Read...Michelle ...read.....The gap between my actual knowledge and my level of education is truly tragic i tell you. Then agian I never did believe school taught me all that much. For instance I Never quite learnt how to spell. I probably learnt more from Irvine Welsh and Bob Dylan then I did from hours in class...so more welsh and dylan it is.

I just bought Jon Krakauer's Into the Wild.

In April 1992 a young man from a well to do family hitchiked to Alaska and walked alone into the wilderness north of Mt. McKinley. His name was Christopher Johnson McCandless. He had given $25 000 in savings to charity, abandoned his car and most of his possessions, burned all the cash in his wallet, and invented a new life for himself....

He ended up starving to death in the Alaskan wilderness.

I just find his story fascinating. I cant quite decide what it would take to do something like that, an incredible amount of courage of just studipity, naievity and arrogance; maybe its all of it. My heart would say he's an amazing human being, to have the guts to pick up and walk away if just in search for something truer. My head would tend to agree I think. I would wish for that kind of courage but in the same breath hope to never take it that far.

Perhaps this is the perfect book for me to read right now. I want something new, something too different..but at the same time I love everything that keeps me here. Its not some age old dilemma but I do want both. I want to run away without leaving them all behind. So how far will that take me....Malacca?.....ha...I hate Malacca....oh well

Yesterday was hard. Today will be better. So I would like to believe.

I keep chashing after normal, telling myself I just got to get there and laaddeeeedaaa all will be well. And right now I think Im just at a point where Im fucking done with the waiting. Done with waiting to be normal, done with waiting for things to get amazing, done with waiting for my friend to show up, don with waiting for my hair to grow.....god i swear to you its just not growing, purely to spite me. arggah... well ha guess what fuck u im chopping you all off. Im done with waiting, no need to chase after being some pretty long haired zombie girl Im never going to be. Chop chop chop....so theres one less thing im going to be waiting around for. It might actually be refreshing.

And the rest of the waiting....I dont know. It is left sitting with me and my constant overanalyisis. Do I really believe that carving something into my arm is going to bring about a change in perspective. Yes and No I suppose. Im talking about my tattoo here by the way.. the one Ive been endlessly overanalysizing for months. The last time after endless overthinking I just went and did it one day because I was pissed off. I wanted something all to myself. I remember that day... I did it just to spite her. ha... stupid little girl. Im supposed to be saving for Brazil.. or do I spend my pay check getting a tattoo that I want but Im too afraid to have.

I suppose I have my answer dont I. Daddy is not going to be pleased.

the times they are a changing....

I feel like a recovering addict..ha... Some days its the open road with this bright brilliant future before me and on others its just slip slide skag sad. It pretty much changes with the hour I suppose at least I cant complain that my life is boring.

My meandering pilgrimage has finally taken a foothold i think, i think, i think.....

I have nothing against foreign workers ..but

They will litter the area and make too much noise. They will molest our children. They will crowd up the buses and sleep with our maids. They will pose a security hazard. Basically they will just generally fuck up this pretty little nieghbourhood we've built for ourselves here. Our harmonius little enclave of tolerance and budding cosmopolitan culture.

Its just makes me angry. These residents getting together in their little groups, making their little petitions with all their horrendous claims of monstrosities that will occur once these people invade their neighbourhood. Dont get me wrong, I hang out at gardens all the time and I like it the way it is.. The laid back kind of chill out vibe, I want that to stay. But at the same time there is something to be said about tolerance and basic human decency.

Oh we have nothing against them. We respect what they do for our country. We just dont want them anywhere near us. On some level its understandable, its a reaction to a change most see as affecting them negatively. Im sure these people are good people on most days but come on .....dont couch your words with pleseantries and assume you are justified. Dont throw baseless accusations and paranoia driven "fact" around as evidence. Take one step back and call it what it is. Racism. Bigotry. All these "justifications" seem so rational at the time I suppose but they also sound eeriely familiar. These precepts are founded in ignorance and double standards. The same foundations of things like jim crow laws. Hindsight, history, education, tolerance all these seem to have no value when its at the cost of some inconvenience towards us I suppose.

I just have one question. What if it were you? What if you were the foreigner living in a strange land, miles away from your family and all that is home to you. What if a group of people ganged up against you and said that they didnt want you to be there ,whether it was because of the colour of your skin or the menial jobs that you slog at to send money back home or because of the horrible things groups of you might do. What if these people who dont speak to you or interact with you loudly hail judgements about "you and all your kind". And be very clear it is you and your kind that the protests are against. There are no petitions going around to prevent the other kind of foreign worker from invading the heartlands. You see we call them expatriates. They make the area more cosmopolitan, you urinate in the streets. Let just be honest about the situation and call it what it is. Maybe then I might have a minute ounce of respect for all those signatories. Im sure they are all good people. They always are. And they have potentially falling property prices to be concerned about as other like minded folk would inevitably steer clear of the area.

Im not saying there arent going to be issues and stuff to be concerned about. Yes. But in a nation that depend on these people for the development of our country there has to be a better way. We cant just keep them away, keep moving them somewhere else, where they are separate but equal-thats the kind of bullshit they threw around justifying racial segregation.

Maybe I am being unduely critical I mean every city has its problem with the unwanted, the immigrants, the homeless, just those people you would rather not live near by. But I'll remain the idealist and say there is a better way and its starts with checking yourself and your perceptions of other people. It starts with looking at your own prejudices and recognising them as just that; prejudices. Perhaps its too hard to always lead principled lives but sometimes its too dangerous not to try. Im sorry but separate and equal just does not fly.

I am tired and hungover. Generally kind of bleah.....

But bleah is good comparatively, I mean its not ugh... but its a start. Things seem to be coming together despite the best of my efforts. Maybe its the law of attraction paying of from months gone by, all those positive fucking vibes I sent into the universe with all the benevolent intention of them coming back to me. I am good. I am trying at life. I get dressed. I get out of the house. Occassionally I make it to school. I have a job that I quite like. People whom I genuinely like. Only one potentially major pimple on the way. Things seem to be progressing quite nicely, just tiny little irrelevant bits seem to be coming together.

I want to get another tattoo. I think I need to. Maybe its crazy hippie talk or maybe its quantum physics but I think those tiny little pulsating molecules of pain set something into motion. I believe that my tattoo helped me. No i dont look at it and remember, it doesnt serve as any reminder, Heck there probably arent any lessons learnt. But there is some value to its presence and its permanence, to saying this is here, this is real. On some cosmic level, in some flufie way it steadied my resolve and I think I need that again, some semblence of certainty.

one small step.

I want to write .. or so I tell myself and I sit and I do nothing. I am too old to still be this stupid or maybe I just dont really have anything worth saying. but...one small step ..lets keep it going people. Dont want to lose the momentum.

I want to write. These meaningless little words. Yet just the thought of anyone reading something I wrote terrifies- another said meaningless little word that I throw about with far too little fury. Today I wish I were eighty and had lived long enough and learnt and seen and felt enough not to care about the stupid- to let that which does not matter truely slide. But Im still twenty three dreading twenty four and far too old today.

ok...ok we'll try again tomorrow.