Soooo.....ball is on Friday ;)

Everything is set. Absolutely everything.

And...I am down to my goal weight for ball - 53kg! WOOHOO!!!!

I'm happy.

i'm 5'3" and intimidating. how sad.

Every day in form there are one or two boys who pick on me incessantly because I am a feminist, as if a couple of sexist jokes will somehow convert me. It's nothing serious and nobody really means anything but it is a very good example of how men are intimidated by feminists.

I don't look like a feminist. I wear makeup and do my hair. I roll my shorts up and my skirts don't go to mid-calf. I'm not always buried in books and I don't give men death glares if they try to talk to me. I'm 5'3", an incurable flirt and a relatively normal person. They just can't take it. I don't fit their brain's prototype of an angsty, aggressive, frumpy feminist.

Which makes me, as a feminist, more intimidating. What do I want? What am I after? How would my desires for the relationship between the genders impact men in this day and age?

Men are afraid of women. It is psychologically imbued into the male brain to be afraid of women. They are scared of how our bodies develop, how we grow and bear children; they do not understand female psychology or female strengths and weaknesses because they are so wildly different to a man's, and this ignorance scares them. Historically, men have not been content with being physically stronger than women and have attempted to claim the political, religious and intellectual spheres of life; but in these, ladies, we are equal, and always will be despite men's best attempts to make it otherwise. Women represent something men have no control over, and as women become more politically and socially powerful we become all the more intimidating. This reflects into many things; social, emotional, mental and psychosexual problems in men; an indifference, fear, or hatred towards women, abuse or violence by men against women or what I am experiencing; a rather weak attempt to put me down, with strong undercurrents of hostility and fear of intimidation running underneath. 

Ignorance feeds fear. Fear feeds violence. The battle for equality, my friends, has only just begun; and our first feud is not with men, or even with sexist men; it is with ignorance.

You cannot bear to see me happy,
You'd rather see me fall.
You'd rather see me sad and lonely,
Defeated,
Conquered.

My smile
Cannot make you happy.

If I built you a house
Brick by boring brick
You'd tear it down
And demand a castle.

Because nothing's good enough,
Nothing's ever good enough. 

If I ruled the world
You'd set it on fire
And tell me
That the stars
Are as of yet
Unconquered. 

Because nothing's good enough,
Nothing's ever good enough.

You cannot bear to see me free
A butterfly cannot flutter unmolested
It must be pinned
And locked
On display.

You must learn that
You cannot control me.
I have grown too big for your
Display-cabinet. 

My greatest misery in this world
Is that you cannot reconcile yourself with
What you have created.
You can only see what I cannot do.
My greatest triumphs in this world
Have been celebrated without you.
Because I am not good enough,
Never good enough.

Could you not see me
As a joy
Rather than a duty? 
Why can't you take your own advice
And be content with your lot?

Everyone I know
Is afraid of you.
Everyone I know
Would not dare
To change you.

You could at least
Return the favour. 

You lost your right to be my friend
When you laid claim to be my jailkeeper. 
You lost your right to share in my joy
When you laid claim to cause me pain.

I'll stop pretending to love.
Because it's not good enough,
Nothing's ever good enough.

fearless.

I told you I'm getting wiser ;)

I've gotten to the point where I'm letting go. I've realized that what I want is so powerful and beautiful and special that I'll always want it, but I won't find it here - not at high school.

It took me a long time to finally give up. I'm a pretty persistent person. But when you realize that you've been in love with one boy for three years and he still pretends like you don't exist, and that you've had a boyfriend for a grand total of three days, you realize that, for the time being, you're pretty much a lost cause.

What I want is what few could offer and even fewer deserve. I truly believe that true love is fearless. I've never had that, not yet. I've always been afraid of all the boys that I have ever loved. I've always been afraid of myself. I've never had the courage to be reckless; I've never had the chance to be fearless. One day, I'll learn the difference between a jump and fall.

I don't need people to say that I'm smart or beautiful. I don't need someone who tells me that I have a pretty laugh and nice hair and then ignores me. I want someone to say that I am fearless...I want someone to say that they taught me to be fearless, and that is the best part of me. 

But for now, I have other things to do. A woman is nothing without education, and everybody is a nobody before graduation. I have my own goals, my own goals that don't involve the fickle hearts of teenage boys, and I'll work on that first. Fearlessness....that will come later.

vulnerable.

I overthink things. My imagination spins out of control. I fall, too hard and too fast; without thinking. I get lost in dreams so vivid and real that when I come back to the real world it's heartbreaking. Sometimes I get so frustrated I break things, rip things apart, get a very brief moment of satisfaction in an act of destruction.

I've lost another battle. And another. You'd think I'd get used to the disappointment and the bitterness, but you never do. You never stop questioning yourself, what you could have done. You never stop getting angry. I the conoisseur and left wanting, just searching, never finding. Bittersweet. 

Friendship is something brittle and fragile and, to me, more trouble than it is really worth. Just when I think that things are going well, I get stabbed in the back, or they turn around and walk away; a holiday's amusement isn't worth the upkeep when school starts.

People can be so wildly insensitive at times. I don't want to hear about parties you haven't invited me to, and I don't want to hear your excuses, and I don't want to tell you what I'll be doing instead - going home, alone, waking up, alone, and then going about another day, alone. Alone alone alone. I'm tired of being alone. 

I may not be beautiful or conventional or...sane, but nobody gives me a chance. I have so much to give. Loyalty. Sincerity. Trust. Love. Does nobody value these things anymore? What else do I have, if not that? What else does anybody have?

I am not one content with being alone, but I get broken, again and again, by human company.

I'll pretend I'm okay. I'll pretend not to cry. There's nothing else I can do.

So, ultimately, your attempt to get into my good books failed.

Three years ago a little, shy girl fell in love with a boy in the back of her English class. But there were always others, many others, for me as well as for you. But  I don't feel bad about that, because you didn't know or care in the slightest.

The time has passed when I would have done anything for you. I would have been content to be your friend, but that time has passed, too. You and I, we live in different worlds, and I was a fool to try and change that. Because the truth is I could have been your best friend in the whole world - I could have been anyone's friend - but nobody seems to want that, least of all you. And I understand that. I am used to being nothing to no one.

You aren't the kind of person I can just have a normal conversation with, and then walk away. That's more me than you. I can't be friends with someone who has so much control over what I feel. I'm tired of excuses, of apologies. I have been lied to all my life, and you are the least convincing of them all. So we'll go back to what we were before; you ignore me, and I'll pretend to ignore you. Friends are a petty luxury at the moment, but one day something more meaningful will come along, and I'll be okay. You taught me what not to do, and now I know how not to screw it up. 

I promise you, you won't miss me. You know that already. You're probably laughing as you read this, and to be honest, I'm laughing too. You barely know me, so there is nothing to miss.

safeandsound.

there is nothing like
the feeling of helplessness
and spiralling dispair

of being strapped to a gurney
and moving without
legs
or
feet
towards
hell.

to smell the stench
of rubber pressed
against your cheek

as the sicklysweetether
smothers you
slowly
slowly
slowly

it is like being killed
to be saved.

there is nothing like
having tears running down your face
and having no hands
to brush them away

there is nothing like
staring
at a
hard

cold

light.

is there a war raging on the other side of those
plastic doors?
why does everything seem to be on fire?
it feels like there's a
drug addled
losing battle
inside my head

creeping slowly
down my breast
to claim my heart. 

hold me close
whisper in my ear
tell me a mother's lie.

hold me close
don't let me go
say everything will be alright. 

promise me
i will be
safeandsound. 

Note: I hope this doesn't sound too depressing. I'm not really depressed at the moment. This is inspired, in part, by Prufrock by T.S. Eliot and Safe & Sound by Taylor Swift. But mostly...it's what was going through my head when I was in hospital when I was fourteen. It was a pretty intense experience.

Operation Get Fit: All izz well.

I must apologise for only posting poems and stuff about losing weight lately - my life has become something very confusing and contradictory and, at times, painful; I feel like I must talk, must write, must get it out, but I can only really describe it in abstract. Except for Operation Get Fit, which is going well, and would be weird in poem form ;)

I have hit a record weight of 53.5kg! Heeheehee. I'm skinner than I was on my thirteenth birthday. And, considering how high I was on ramen back then, much healthier.


Slight problems: my leavers jacket is a tent, I can't wear my school skirts, I swear my girls are shrinking and I've been borrowing a lot of stuff from my sister's wardrobe lately...;P

seventoeight.

I don't really want you to know
That sometimes I sit
And watch
And wait
For the numbers to flip
From seventoeight.

You have become my
Tom Riddle's diary
I don't want to be
With or without you.

But
Just now
I had the most horrifying image.

I saw myself sitting
All alone
In a
housethatwasnotahome,
Cupping in my hands
A mug of tea.
 
I'm watching something you don't like
And even though I'm "home"
I've done my hair the way you like.

You finally walk through the door at
halfpasttoolate,
Back from people who don't
Scare you like I do. 

And I press "pause" in the middle of the best part
Ready to become a heavily edited
fine tuned
watered down version

of the passion and sordid fantasies
I keep hidden inside. 

And just when I think we've become teenagers again
With our
mindlessemoticonbanter

And that you're laughing too much in your
funnydeepvoice

I look back and realize

When I was sixteen I said you were a shadow of what you really are.

And when I was sixteen I swore I would never turn my back on
meforyou.

So I don't know...

I don't see...

I don't think
I should spend
any
more
time
Watching the numbers flip
From seventoeight.

my dear rochester.

It takes me a little while to forget
And then remember

That in person
You are a mere shadow of yourself

Metaphysically
You lack the transparency
That defines you in person
More than anything.

But you live in the kind of world
Where who you are
Not what you are
Is the question.

I know
I do not fulfill your criteria
But you cannot deny
That I am rather interesting to talk to

You are a charmer
But only half the time
So you're only half the charmer,
And therefore hardly worth my time.

You are such the consummate actor
Sometimes you even have me fooled
But I have faith
That mask is not you
But I am scared of
Hewhoisnotyou,
You've turned this femme fatale
Into another one of your simpering ingenues. 

Although
Sometimes
I admit.
I do not know
Whether you pretend to care
Or you pretend not to.

You go
onandonandon
About all that you've done to me.
If you truly feel guilty
Why can't you mend your ways?

Eventually
You will come to realize
That without
Your soul
You are nothing

ergo...nothing to me?

I jest

I am just that fool
Watching
The numbers flip
fromseventoeight

There are other people
In your world
To do that for you.

But...

If you fly your true colours
I can guarantee that blanche will leave.
She subscribes
To your philosophy. 

...but jane...jane might stay.