"I don't think that being a strong person is about ignoring your emotions and fighting your feelings. Putting on a brave face doesn't mean you're a brave person. That's why everybody in my life knows everything that I'm going through. I can't hide anything from them. People need to realise that being open isn't the same as being weak."

- Taylor Swift

Monday, March 29, 2010

Empty Criticism

Mood: proud. and proud of being proud.
Listening to: 'Love Me or Hate Me' by Lady Sovereign
Hungry for: some respect.

Last year I complained bitterly on my blog about being accused of being 'proud', and how the teachers were giving me hard time about it. I've since appealed to higher authorities, and the offending individuals have been, for want of a better phrase (not really) forced to shut the fuck up.

But now it's back. Students.

One thing I've found bizarre about modern Anglo-Saxon culture is that pride is something of an unspoken evil - a temptation that you simply musn't succumb to. Australia, at least for generations Y and Z, is not a meritocracy - it's a delicately fragile ladder of class and order and propriety that collapses every six seconds. There are three classes - proud, normal, and depressed. Being the crazy out-of-place part-Westernized Asian that I am, I wildly bounce through each category constantly.

I've failed to recognise - what is so bad about pride? Growing up, my parents always told me to have a good idea of what you're good at and what you're not good at, instead of pretending you're mediocre at everything. My parents taught me to be proud about what you can do and humble about what you don't. And I've been like that - I've stuck to that advice like The Bible (not that I actually stick to the Bible - but that's another story) and yet I constantly get payed out for it.

I wish I could say 'I just wanna clear this up once and for all', but that never works. There is always someone out there that has this idea in their head that I parade around thinking I'm the best thing since sliced bread, but I assure you, from the bottom of my heart, that I am not. I just wish people wouldn't make me feel so shit about feeling good about myself, and then turning around and saying I'm depressed with a low self esteem. And I have battled depression, image and self-esteem problems for a couple of years now, and the people I blame are those so-called friends I have, those so-called 'teachers' who 'only want best for you'.

I'm tired of trying to be nice. I'm tired of having to apologise. I'm sorry if I rub you up the wrong way, but it's really not my problem. People are always telling me to grow a thick skin, but I'm telling you, grow one yourself. If I complained about everything people do that annoys me, then I'd be here till Christmas next century. So I don't. I button it, and tolerate it. And so should you.

If I can do things better than you can, then, yeah, I like that fact. If I can't, then, yeah, I just accept that. I can't be everything. Someone *please* tell me what is wrong with that. Take a look at yourself. Stop beating yourself down, and stop beating other people down. Do you know what it's like to have depression? It stinks. It's really truly godawful. You feel like no-one loves you and no-one appreciates you for what you are. And that's what you're doing every time you 'try to do something good' and reprimand people for loving themselves.

It's popular, but it's not really, but it's kinda popular, I mean, you have to not like it but pretend to you like it but not like it...

Mood: dry (as in the humour. dry humour.)
Listening to: 'Baby' by Justin Bieber
Hungry for: common sense
Bella says: 'Mummm??? I'm sleepy, I'm on the couch, BUT DON'T YOU DARE DISAPPEAR!!!!!'

Did the title confuse you enough already? Yeah, that's the kind of shit I get every day at school.

It's this Justin Bieber dude. I mean, I like his songs. I love his lyrics in the same way I like Twilight. It's like meaningful un-meaningful stuff. It's kind of difficult to explain - as in, neither of them are classics, but they're both strangely addictive.

Sure, Justin Bieber sounds like an eight year old and puberty is going to hit him like a train, and he looks stupid doing that hand-heart thing that he always does and equally stupid with his cap that is clearly way to big for him and fails at trying to disguise himself (hoodies just don't cut it these days), but I like his music. I also, in some bizarrely strange way, like his melodramatic cheesy videos, in the same way I lap up Robert Pattinson's stale and dishevelled Edward Cullen.

But then Justin Bieber, much like Dolly Magazines and Twilight and Hannah Montana and High School Musical, are in that 'grey' group. I know everyone secretly indulges in at least one of them, but I don't understand why these are like secret, guilty pleasures. To make things even more complicated, you have to not like them but pretend that you like them kind of but really not like them. Something along those lines.

I think I'm the only person in my grade who openly reads Dolly and Twilight, listens to Justin Bieber and watches High School Musical and Hannah Montana. I know heaps of people secretly like these things, but they'll never admit it. I know some diehard Twilight fans force themselves to say that it's a load of crap through their teeth. I just don't get it. One of my more recent posts, Dear Hayden, is basically what society does to every single one of us - and even if it doesn't, we always imagine it does. And what do I get? Criticized for being too mean. But this is what happens! I'm just demonstrating reality. I'm just saying what you're all thinking. I'm just stating what we all know.

When I was younger I used to crack under this pressure, and then I very recently went through a 'I genuinely give a shit about not giving a shit' thing, where I purposely did eccentric things for the thrilling combination of attention and daredevil and 'make me stop' kind of defiance. Growing up in a mixed culture in a very hypocritical and harsh age, I've always found it difficult just to be myself. I always feel like I have to conform, or be like, the next Lady Gaga. Do any of you feel like that?

My Baby Bella

Mood: estatic
Listening to: 'Baby' by Justin Bieber
Hungry for: milk

I got a new puppy!

Well, she's not really a puppy. She's a young female, a Silky Terrier, and she's so gorgeous! Her name is Bella, and we got her on Sunday from death row at a pound about two hours away from where I live. She's a little bundle of joy, so cute.

I would have blogged about her earlier except for the fact I actually can't type when she's on my lap at the computer - I have to have at least one hand fully employed in scratching her belly. She loves having her belly scratched - she'll stop in the middle of the staircase for one if she thinks you'll bend down anytime soon. She's very small, much smaller than our other dog, and I've hardly heard a yap out of her - although she did apparently bark at a park ranger that she didn't like the look of today at the park.

I call her Belly, or Belly-Boo. She follows me around everywhere - like quite literally, everywhere - and rarely goes out of my sight. She's terrified of the doggy door (ironic, much?) and we both get seperation anxiety when I go to school. Today was my super-long day - a full day of school plus choir practice in the morning and orchestra rehearsal in the evening - but when I got home her little roly-poly cuteness made my day.

More on Belly later.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Dear Hayden

Dear Hayden,

This outfit is fail in absolutely every aspect. Let's start from the top.

Well, for starters, you've got a gorgeous cute-as-pie fiancee walking beside you, and at this point in time she probably doesn't even want to know you, let alone marry you. Rachel Bilson is one of the style icons of the century - she never has a hair out of place. She always gets it right. Yet she's about to marry someone who's just got it so, so wrong.

Look at your hair. Kevin Rudd gets away with the puffy side part - you don't. You're way too young and hot and drop dead sexy.

And then there's the shirt. It's a nice colour on you, but the cutting is utter fail. It's way too low - what are you trying to do? Show off C-cup cleavage? And your chest hair is poking through. That's disgusting. In Star Wars you didn't have chest hair - why change that now? Borrow Rachel's razor.

And the sleeves are way too tight - in fact, the whole thing is too tight. You look like you're a female gymanst on her way to the Olympics. And it's far too short. What kind of guy wears a shirt that ends at the navel, especially with such low cut pants? I don't know where guys get the idea from, but three inches of blandly visible underpants is just not a sexy look.

And what is with that horrible vest thing? It's the most dreadful colour, and I have no idea what it's for. Life jackets? They belong on the water, honey. I don't think it scores many points for buoyancy, but you'll scare all the sharks away, that's for sure. And then the straps dive in to your pants to who-knows where...what were you thinking? To save our eyes from permanent damage, we insist you shop under Rachel's constant supervision from now on.

But before we get to your pants, lets look at the item in your hand. It's a cigarette. You are Anakin Skywalker, for crying out loud. Half the male population looks up to you and half the female population drools over you. What kind of example are you setting with a cigarette in your hand? It's just not cool anymore. And I don't know how Rachel willingly kisses you - smokers stink in every sense.

And then we look at the thing in your other hand - it looks like a blue diaper. It's hanging over the top of your pants. Grow up.

Your pants aren't actually that bad - but the belt is godawful. It's stiffer than a slab of concrete and probably just as flexible. How can you wear such a contraption with jeans? No, no, no, no, no. The pants themselves hang too low down on your waist - you don't look manly at all. You look like you have an hourglass figure. You just look like a too-tall, too-hairy girl.

Your shoes are incredibly boring - which means they're not hideous, but still, they're dull. So dull.

I fail to understand how someone as hot as you can look so bad. Sure, you can't act for shit, but that doesn't detract away from the fact that, normally, you look drop-dead gorgeous. You look good as a Jedi, so try and look good without a stylist throwing clothes at you. Please. For all our sakes. I think Padme just turned in her grave.


my sister and I were surfing the net together and we had a good laugh at this pic. I just wrote this for fun. So chillax, and back away from the f word.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Poll Talk #1

Mood: lost my voice :( too much taylor swift...
Listening to:'Cold As You' by Taylor Swift
Hungry for: milk

From my polls, I have gathered:

Most of my readers are female, although I have a couple of male readers and a few who are undecided.

Most of my readers are in the 'under 15' age gap, although I've got pretty much everyone over 10 visiting here.

Most of my readers are here because they're under the impression that this is good writing...but some are here because they think I'm ridiculous.

This is, apparently, girly-girl free zone.

Keep voting!

Tuesday, March 23, 2010


Mood: grouchy :(
Listening to: 'Forever and Always' by Taylor Swift
Hungry for: I don't know. I wanna binge.

No school today!

Our school is drowned. Two offices, an entire building, a corridor and several other classrooms are completely flooded, not to mention cracked windows and a rogue hail stone that smashed the stain glass window in the heritage-listed building.

You might have heard about the storms that wreaked havoc on Perth yesterday evening - and my God, they were spectacular. I don't think I've ever seen hail before, but there they were, smashing the stained class windows and crashing down onto the concrete.

So I'm at home, bored, with nothing on TV. We were all scared out of our wits last night, but now we're just bored.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Neglecting Splinters

Mood: nostalgic
Listening to: 'Forever & Always' by Taylor Swift
Hungry for: sleep

Some of you may have been part of my private blog that I shared called 'Splinters In My Heart', which was basically where we unloaded all of our miseries and had a good cry with our virtual friends. I made it when I was going through my first heartbreak when I was twelve years old, two years ago.

As some of you may have gathered, I've (not so) recently come out of another heartbreak, this one much more painful and drawn out and confusing than the last one. But I didn't blog about it, much, except for a few unsubtle hints here. I didn't mention it on Splinters, which is now largely defunct. It's not as though I haven't tried, it's just...I don't know. The pain was beyond blogging. I couldn't write about it.

I'm completely over it now, except for a couple of down moments of 'What could have been?' and 'What did I do wrong?', but I know that it's over and I've gotta keep marching on. I thank you all for your continued support and I especially thank my mother and Lady Renegade for being my rock(s), and keeping me sane. Love you all.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Playlist to Perk You Up

Mood: musicky (that should be added to the Oxford Dictionary :))
Listening to: 'Forever and Always' by Taylor Swift
Hungry for: music.

It's kind of a mix of the airy-fairy idealistic, angry break up songs to lose some steam and the feel good I don't give a shit stuff. Why cry when you can pump iron and sing your guts out?

1. Love Me or Hate Me - Lady Sovereign
2. Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne
3. Girlfriend Remix - Avril Lavigne ft. Lil Mama
4. Losing Grip - Avril Lavigne
5. Nobody's Fool - Avril Lavigne
6. Unwanted - Avril Lavigne
7. Tell Me Somethin' - Selena Gomez
8. Party in the U.S.A - Miley Cyrus
9. I Still Believe - Hayden Panettiere
10. One Less Lonely Girl - Justin Bieber
11. One Time - Justin Bieber
12. Picture to Burn - Taylor Swift
13. Should've Said No - Taylor Swift
14. I Heart Question Mark - Taylor Swift
15. Change - Taylor Swift
16. Forever & Always - Taylor Swift
17. You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift
18. I'm Only Me When I'm With You - Taylor Swift
19. I'm Not Missing You - Stacie Orrico
20. My Life Would Suck Without You - Kelly Clarkson
21. I Do Not Hook Up - Kelly Clarkson
22. Never Again - Kelly Clarkson
23. Don't Waste Your Time - Kelly Clarkson
24. Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson

Works. Trust me.

There are many perks of having a playlist like this - singing releases feel-good endorphins. It's a good energy rush. It lets out all sorts of emotions you can't show in the big bad world, only in your room screaming into your hairbrush. Burns lots of calories, too. So it's a win-win situation.

Polly Want a Cracker...

Mood: blue :(
Listening to: 'I'm With You' by Avril Lavigne
Hungry for: milk...been milk deprived...

So...you might have noticed I have put up some polls lately. I'm going to have about three circulating at any one time...just so I can get to know my audience a bit better. Please vote on them - it's really not that hard.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

The Plasticine Anology

Mood: selfish...in a good way
Listening to: 'Unwanted' by Avril Lavigne
Hungry for: nothing much...

So, in philosophy, we're learning about the suppression of selfishness. You may think that this is a good thing. It's not.

Because, you see, all human beings...all life forms, really, are essentially selfish. It's one of the very few common traits that all living things share. Our primary instinct is simply to stay alive.

And then, of course, society had to warp all of that. No, it's not cool to save your own skin, you've got to save your friend. Who's probably going to be so guilty that you died instead of him he'll commit suicide anyway. Lovely.

And then there's the other classic example that I'm looking at in philosophy: it's not cool to be happy, you've got to give your happiness to someone else, who then has to give it to someone else, and the useless cycle goes on.

Don't get me wrong, I think it's good to help people, but let me tell you about my plasticine anology.

Okay, so all human beings are children sitting around a table. There is a giant blob of plasticine in the middle of the table, and when it runs out, a grown-up (who could represent God or Allah, if you want), puts another giant blob of plasticine on the table. The plasticine represents happiness.

Logically, every child should take a hunk of plasticine to play with, and if there was not enough, or they wanted more, the grown-up would put more down for them to take.

But this is what really happens.

The children stare at the plasticine for a considerable length of time, daring each other to take the plasticine first. Finally, one child (Child A) reaches out and tears off a hunk. Instead of following suite, the children's eyes move from the big blob of plasticine on the table to the small blob in that child's hand. Under the silent pressure of awkwardness and social morality, the child quickly passes the plasticine to the child next to him who, after a few seconds, passes it to the next child. And so the plasticine gets passed from person to person in this senseless manner, without anyone benefiting from the plasticine.

Finally, one child (Child B) stops the cycle and says that this plasticine is his, and that everyone else has to take their own from the abandoned blob in the middle. The other children just stare at him, and some start shouting abuse ('I'll dob on you! That's so unfair!'), whilst others try another kind of blackmail ('My mummy says we should listen to God and God says that we should all share').

But the kid is just a kid. He eventually cracks, and surrenders the plasticine to the waiting hand of the child next to him. And so the cycle starts again.

After a while, a child (Child C), who was brought up in a no-nonsense Atheist family, stops the cycle and repeats what Child B says, only he stands firm. He starts making his plasticine into different shapes, even taking more from the pile in the middle. The others are utterly disgusted, but eventually give in and finally take plasticine of their own.

And so this continues, although they are very reluctant to take more plasticine from the middle if they need it - the effort is just too much, apparently. So there is endless stealing and then consequent bickering, and it drives them all mad. And then, just as the wind changes direction, it suddenly becomes 'not cool' to steal from each other. You have to take from the middle pile now - that is cool.

And then there's the particular way of taking from the middle pile...which is a ritual in itself. The lists of 'cool' and 'uncool' go on and on, and this is just about happiness. If we all cared for ourselves and got happiness for ourselves without worrying about other people, we'd all be happy.

Note that this anology doesn't apply to third world countries.

You probably didn't get it, anyway. Too confusing much.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010


Mood: strange
Listening to: 'Nobody's Fool' by Avril Lavigne
Hungry for: grapes

Some people here hate me,
That I know,
They hate that I'm different,
I don't go with the flow.
I've got many names here,
They're not nice at all,
But there's one I don't mind: strange.

Strange is a sense of being,
It's a frame of mind,
It's a token of individuality,
It's a badge of pride.
I'm strange, so what?
By being strange you get the most out of life.
Put your hand in the fire,
And get what you want.

Sunday, March 14, 2010


Mood: meh
Listening to: 'Teardrops on My Guitar' by Taylor Swift
Hungry for:...


Well, not really. Black with red highlights. Still, pretty cool.

I've wanted to get red streaks in my hair for a long time - and it surprises a lot of people. At my school, all Asian girls have the exact same kind of hair - black and long and straight, with blunt ends and choppy bangs. Not that there's anything bad about that, but I want to break out of the mold. I always want to.

I consider my hair my best physical asset. On good days it's thick and soft and silky...on bad days it's dreadful, but then, that's why it's called 'bad hair days'. But it's always been jet black. Jet, boring, black.

There is not much you can do with black hair when it comes to dying and colouring - especially Asian hair, which is known for being pretty much impenetrable and stubborn as hell. You can use bleach to dye it yellow (like, cheese yellow) or a strange kind of brown, or you can use very strong hair dye and dye the whole mop a very dark brown - think Bella Swan in the Twilight movies - but ashier.

The funner, wilder option is streaks - and red is pretty much the only option. But black and red looks striking. Black and red says 'don't mess with me'. Black and red says 'I don't give a shit'. Black and red says 'So what? I'm awesome'. Black and red says 'I refuse to blend in'. Black and red says 'I refuse to bow down to anyone'.

That's what my hair means to me. It's a statement. I am Lady Renegade.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Your sister...

Mood: musicky (i know that's not a word)
Listening to: 'Things I'll Never Say' by Avril Lavigne
Hungry for: nuthin...just ate...

My sister gets 'your sister...'ed all the time. No, it's not like getting 'yo mamma'd - it's not as funny and twice as annoying, apparently.

You see, I'm known for being a bit of a weird one at school. Smart at things I shouldn't be. Incredibly dumb at things I should be good at. Eccentric. Different. Rule breaker. That kind of thing.

And then people forget that I do live in the same house as my sister, and also forget she's my sister, not my mother and constant minder. So she gets 'your sister'd all the time. Like, 'your sister had a strange hairstyle today' and 'your sister was getting told off just then', or, occasionally 'your sister was crying at recess' or 'your sister was having a yelling match with some dude'.

That kind of thing. It's not that my sister doesn't care about me, but this is the 21st century, and she is my sister. She generally knows all this stuff, and if she doesn't, she isn't gonna die without it.

Do you get 'your sister'd? Does your sister get 'your sister'd'? Do you 'your sister' people? Intentionally or not?

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

And it's the feminist thing. Again.

Mood: tired
Listening to: 'Losing Grip' by Avril Lavigne
Hungry for: milk

And here we are again. Back to feminism.

Lately I have been asked a lot, mostly by boys 'so you think women should rule the world?'.

You might think this is a funny thing for fourteen-year-old boys to ask a fourteen-year-old girl, but I've kind of built a reputation of being a feminist. And I don't mind in the least. I'm damn proud of being a feminist.

But, it's back to more myth debunking.

1. Feminists want women to rule the world.

The correct term for people believing in female supremacy is gynocentrism - feminists believe in equal rights for men and women.

2. All feminists hate men.

I am living proof that that is not true - I'm utterly boy crazy. It is perfectly possible to fall in love, be friends with, and be physically attracted to men, and be a feminist.

3. All feminists are lesbians.

Not true. I'm 200% straight.

4. All feminists hate children.

That is like saying 'All people with blonde hair don't drive Toyotas' or something stupid like that. There is no connection between feminism and dislike of children.

5. Feminism is irrelevant in the modern world.

That is untrue. I have statistics to prove it. In even the most developed countries, wages for women are lower then the wages of men in many professions and trades. Women are discriminated against in occupations such as cooking, engineering and building. 3/4 of all abused children are female, and 2 in 3 women would have experienced some kind of abuse or assault in their lives. In less developed areas, honour killing, wife beating, FGM, rape, breast ironing, bride burning, daughter selling and forced arranged marriage is all still common. Female literacy and access to education is lower than that of men. The majority of women of all ages, races and backgrounds will have been subjected to some kind of sexual assault, abuse, and/or prejudice in their lives and women are still perceived as weak sexual objects in popular culture.

6. You must be a woman to be a feminist.

Some feminists believe otherwise, but I believe that men can be feminists, or at least feminism-supporters. Being a feminist is not betraying masculinity or giving way to femininity, but is confirming that you have some sense of human emotion in you. It takes a great man to be a great feminist.

A feminist is someone who believes in equality between men and women. We are essentially human rights activists at heart - we fight injustice and seek peace. Feminists are often discriminated against, and 'feminist' is now a degratory term - but we wear the name as a badge of pride. Feminism is about being proud of being a woman, seeking respect for being a women, respecting other women and men, and seeking ways to ensure all women are respected for who they are. We fight for women's suffrage and equal rights, through any means necessary. We demand to command respect, and in return we respect our supporters. And remember, the battle is not yet won. But one day, we will stand together, united, man, woman, black, white, at the dawn of a golden era.

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Book Review: Jasper Jones

Mood: meh
Listening to: 'One Less Lonely Girl' by Justin Bieber (still waitin' for my valentine's day fantasy to become a reality)
Hungry for: dunno

A book review!

I won't give you any more spoilers than the stuff revealed in the blurb, promise.

I got this book from the Perth International Writer's Festival - Jasper Jones, by Fremantle-based WA writer Craig Silvey (writer of Rhubarb, which is apparently good but I haven't read.) And I must admit, it's good. It's a nice break from the stiff classics I've been poring over - very good, modern read.

The cover is orange, with an apple motif, with A Novel: Jasper Jones scrawled over it, with the author's name. But don't be fooled by the bright cover - the pages narrate an eerily dark and sinister story discussing deep and shady topics like sexuality, racism, sexism, murder, discrimination and torture.

The story is set in the fictional country town of Corrigan, which is somewhere in Western Australia. Just a bit of background info: Australian country towns have a bit of a reputation of being old fashioned and prejudiced. Not all of them, obviously, but some of them. The narrator of the story is Charlie Bucktin, who dreams of being as bold as the dashingly rebellious outcast Jasper Jones, who is half-Aboriginal, so he can somehow pluck up the nerve to strike up a conversation worth remembering with Eliza Wishart. One night, Jasper Jones taps on Charlie's window and leads him to a horrific crime scene that chills Charlie to the core. How can Charlie help Jasper when the whole town is against him? How can Charlie keep this horrible scene a secret?

So, as I said, eerily dark. It's not a book for kids, obviously - both the themes and language are very strong - and it's a very moving book with a very unpredictable end. The chilling crime story is balanced off by some very funny conversations between Charlie and his Asian buddy, Jeffrey, who, despite his bullying, has a very bright take on life.

I recommend this book to adults, older teens, and younger teens who can stomach crude language, dark crime, strong themes and stuff like that. You'll be hooked from the first word, I guarantee. The pace is swift but not rushed, complex but not overly confusing. Perfection.

Sunday, March 07, 2010

It's All In The Balance

Mood: relaxed
Listening to: 'Breathe' by Taylor Swift ft. Colbie Callait
Hungry for: juice

At school, I cop a lot of slack for being the only nerd to own foundation and wear makeup to school.

I really don't see what's wrong with it. Sure, I'm smart and I like getting good grades, but I also pay attention to how I look. After all, no-one wants to be the brainless barbie, or the smartass who looks like Shrek. It's all about the balance.

Most of my classmates fail to see how you can be in this balance - it's like x + y = puppydog or something. But I think academics and looks is important, you know?

I think all women should care to a certain extent about their looks - or at least, if you can't be bothered putting in the effort to look good, try to put in the effort to not look bad. Just the little things, like NO SOCKS WITH SANDLES and BLUE EYESHADOW PINK CHEEKS AND RED LIPS WILL NEVER WORK NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRY.

And of course, there are the girls who spend three hours in the morning tonging their hair, two hours painstakingly applying fake eyelashes...all to go to school to receive another stack of F's and a detention for wearing stilettos. How is either of those extremes attractive? Why can't you be the best of both worlds?

I'm a nerd, and proud of it. I also know how to apply eyeliner and do a smashing smokey eye. That's just me. Don't like it? Tough.

Saturday, March 06, 2010


Force me into silence,
Death stares,
Ghastly stares,
Blank, cold eyes...
My greeting.
Their voices icy,
Their gestures frosty,
Dying of cold...
No warmth.
The sun does little but blind,
Does nothing to cut through the chill.
It's supposedly a warm day,
A hot day,
But I'm cold and getting colder still.

My blood boils,
My heart aches,
But they fail to warm me,
My senses heighten,
My nostrils flair,
But they do little to warn me.
Their whispers seem louder than screams.
'What's she wearing?'
'What's she doing?'
Their whispers cut worse than knives.

But I have my own sun,
Something else to keep me warm...
The calm flow of the ink from my pen.
It keeps me safe,
Blocks them out,
And with my pen,
I am happy.

Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Wuthering Heights

Mood: tired
Listening to: 'One Time' by Justin Bieber
Hungry for: milk!

I am currently addicted to the 2009 two-part series of Wuthering Heights, starring Tom Hardy as Heathcliff and Charlotte Riley as Cathy Earnshaw.

I love Wuthering Heights.

Okay, so I haven't actually read it, but I've read enough Twilight to get some direct quotes. I love the storyline.

The last time I tried to read Wuthering Heights was two years ago, and I couldn't get a word of it. I'll try again after I finish Jane Eyre.

I love Heathcliff. I love how he's so dark, so evil, so wronged, so passionate. Heathcliff, I think, has beaten Romeo, who has a stupid name and is too girly and cowardly for my liking, and Edward Cullen, who's hotter than Heathcliff, but boring. Two dimentional. No-one should be so exquisitely perfect as he is.

Writer's Festival

Mood: nostalgic
Listening to: 'Cold As You' by Taylor Swift
Hungry for: dessert

Writer's festival...

Can I describe the atmosphere? I can certainly describe the heat. Blistering, contrasting sharply with the air conditioners on overdrive in the theatres. I don't think I've ever been with so many people of my kind. I don't remember being myself so much for so long.

I love writers. I think they're the best kind of people They're all smart, they're all freaks, they're all cool. I've learned so much, laughed so much...I wish school was that fun. I'd take the heat a thousand times over if I could just forever stay at the festival.

I bought two books at the festival - Jasper Jones, by Craig Silvey, and The Imperfectionists, by Tom Rachman - got them both signed, too, which is cool. The authors were there, giving talks and signing books, and they're both very nice and inspirational. I've read a couple of chapters from each and I'm addicted. I recommend them both to you.