Body clock

Exercise at 9am - morning exercise boosts your mood.
Tackle tough tasks at 10am, when concentration peaks.
Eat lunch at 1pm, when liver enzymes cause hunger pangs.
Go to the dentist at 2pm, when your pain threshold peaks.
Drink wine at 7pm, when the liver can metabolise alcohol faster.
Have sex at 10pm - this is when your libido peaks.
Finally, go to bed at 11pm, when you experience a surge of melatonin.

Phew. 7 o'clock; better have my wine and start getting ready for you-know-what at 10.

Price check on chuck-up chick?

Charlie tried a price check on a chick who chucked up on the check-out chick.
Well that's my attempt at a tongue twister loosely based on my experience at work today.
Don't ever vomit in a staff toilet. I promise myself never to get that close to the stench of Fresh Produce Guy's hairy ass again.

Ta.

Just shoot me

Here's a run-down of the past two days:

Monday
Ben promises to see me after school.
Decides at the end of the day to go to gym instead.
I plan to commit suicide, Justin interferes. I am grateful.

Tuesday
I go to school. Ben texts me during period 3 and tells me to stay away from him because he doesn't care anymore.
I sit alone at recess listening to my iPod.
Ben sits next to me resulting in a panic attack. I scream, push him on his back and kick him in the head/neck area.
I run to the train tracks and stand on them waiting for a train.
Courtney sees me and runs to me stopping me from harming or killing myself.
My mother picks me up and takes me home. I have a panic attack because Ben hadn't contacted me. I hyperventilate and pass out in my bed.
I am taken to see a doctor who makes an appointment with a psychiatrist in Albert Park so that I can be prescribed anti-depressants. The appointment is next Thursday.

Wednesday
My mum tells me to stay home from school. I have not heard from Ben since I kicked him.
I watch television until I have a flashback followed by a seizure. I pass out. I wake up and have a panic attack and run away from home. My dad calls my mum who finds me dirty in a bush two streets from my home.
I am taken to hospital as I am too afraid to go home.
I hyperventilate and attempt to strangle myself.
I am now under constant supervision.

I am on 4th suicide attempt, a 5th will have me entered in a psychiatric ward until I am 18. I don't know what to do. I'm so alone. Ben wishes me dead. I can't believe it.
My life has been turned upside down.

What can I do?

All hope is lost

I kicked him in the head and now he will never talk to me again.
I will be sent to see psychologists and put on pills.
I will no longer see the other side of the world or fly on a plane.
I will never be trusted by my parents again.
I will never feel his love again.

And there's nothing I can do.

Certificate II in Multimedia

I just got home from my meeting at Northland Secondary College to confirm my enrollment for 2009's Certificate II in Multimedia. It was rather amusing seeing only two decent-looking music boys (and one hot media teacher) although the few attractive ones were very attractive.

It seems I've got the leg up already; after seeing me in awe of this year's media work, one of the teachers laughed and became excited, later revelling in me having already filled in and submitted application forms prior to the information evening. He later stated that my last name must be 'Keen'.

Afterwards I laughed at the badly disorganised school photos; there was so distinction between teacher and student, they were all just thrown together resulting in hilarious comparisons eg. David Lewis, aged approximately 13, followed by Henry Leith, aged approximately 300.

Ta.

Dancing with the judges

Today whilst at Greensborough Shopping Plaza I met one of the judges off of Dancing With The Stars, Mark Wilson.

He was really lovely and showed me a little dance. It was great that he was so bubbly and chatty, I was scared he might be snobby but he's the complete opposite. I was nervous asking for a photo but he was wonderful about it and then I helped an elderly lady have her photo taken with him.


Anyhow I'm getting pretty excited for Germany now, it's only 33 days. I have less time left here than I will spend there!

My chest gets tense at the thought.

Believe me Natali

I found out today who my host partner will be in Düsseldorf. Her name is Natali I. and she is 15 years old. She is in Year 9 at the Geschwister Scholl Gymnasium and she does judo.

I have been chatting to her on MSN and I must say she is very nice and down to earth. This trip gets better every day... I'm sure Natali will be a Freundin I keep forever!

x

Dripping

My thoughts bleed out my eyes and ears, feeding angry ants who carry my happiness in molecular droplets back to their Queen. I lay here for hours on end, you lifeless in my arms, asleep. I shudder but my tears on your cheek make no difference to you. You are over me, and I am lost to the world.

My emotional decay running free like wilderbeast, I needed you, and you were there. Weeping into your chest, secure and safe from the rest of this war-torn world. Protected by your cold embrace.

You whisper sweet words to make me think that I'm not insane, that there is still hope. The light at the end of my tunnel will soon fade. This is all too good to be true.
You'll turn your back on me soon. And then nobody will hear me scream.

Not even me.

Bodies

Hair; hairy. Skin; skinny. Ears; eerie. Nose; nosey. Mouth; mouthy. Neck; necky. Hands; handy. Legs; leggy. Feet; footy. Toes; toey.

We are a descriptive bunch, aren't we?

Fliegst du weg, Mädchen

We shed a tear as we bid Sam farewell. She is somewhere far away now, having fun I hope. The airport was a funeral parlour for teenage girls, huddled together to wish their friend a wonderful trip. It really was as though someone had died. Seeing their faces in such agony forced a tear or two out of me - it was hard to cry knowing that in just over a month I would be in Germany with her, but I still did.

Goodbyes flew and heartstrings ached as we watched Sam leave, all alone, tears streaking down her face while her parents looked on in opaque concern. It’s rare to see people so openly... existent. Emotions are so often hidden in today’s life that I often wonder if we are just robotic beings, inhabiting this earth as the aftermath of man’s technological destruction; completely oblivious to who and what we really are. But then I see something that reminds me of what it is that makes us human – the tears shed, the laughter – for once everything isn’t hollowed out from the inside. It’s in those brief few moments I accept that we aren’t just shells. I no longer think of men as walking wooden figures… maybe there really is something more than what’s skin-deep, and my perception of all people as termite-filled corpses is false.

Maybe I’m the only monster.

But I saw something else that day - laughter. As they cried, one laughed. His mouth wide and his eyes shining, all emotion set free as Ben watched his sister walk out of the departure lounge. Is this a monster, like me? Or is this a cover up? Such maniacal bliss, I could never quite understand – maybe I’m still learning how to be empty… because my tears were real.

Tide hold

Two days ago, on the first of October, I ventured out of my cave and went to the beach with Ben. The train ride to Brighton was a rough one; I was groaning in agony whilst clutching my stomach and praying for mercy the entire way there. (This is the beauty of suffering endometriosis*. Also, as I recently discovered, thanks to my having this condition, there is a 30-40% chance that I will become or am already infertile. Learning this broke my heart.)

Anyway, once we got there I felt much better - Ben was still a little worried about fellow train passengers thinking I was in labor - so we went and sat down in the sand.
The sunset was amazingly beautiful and I just had to admire nature's ability to form the most miraculous sights for me each day.

Farewell.

Winter's farewell

And so in these recent days I say my last goodbyes to a winter that has nurtured and protected me from the world. I have been able to escape, hidden behind layers of clothing and blankets, curled up on the ducted heating vent. But now the days are fast becoming hot and dry - thick, sweaty air pressing in on me, telling me it's time to take off my jumper and woolen stockings in favour of a singlet and tiny shorts.

I hate summer. It's so... revealing. Everywhere I look I curl my lips in disgust at this modern day fashion. Such disregard for one's own privacy revolts me. Especially the adolescent girls who think they're "all that", parading their newly discovered breasts and bottoms in the tiniest bikini on sale. Although, I cannot argue that it is their fault. In a time of hardcore pornography and, of course, softcore pornography (see any and every film made for teens since the late 90's) it's nearly impossible to live up to standards unless you go to the beach in your birthday suit and not much else.

Aside from being a jealous tyrant in the past few years, I really do have valid reasons for disliking this particular season. It's sweaty, still, you could cut the air with a butter knife and it is unbearably hot. Sleeping becomes a privelage rather than a right, if you can manage it. Although the warmer time of year isn't completely without reward - especially this year. I can't believe I'm spending part of Australia's summer in Europe's winter, actually seeing the snow, the lights, the Christmas markets and drinking in all the delicious little details that make their world so far from ours. And when I arrive home two days before Christmas, there will be decorations and presents galore.

Maybe summer isn't so bad after all.