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One month to go

Well it's July now and that means there's less than one month until my due date!
We had the baby shower on Tuesday, it was amazing and eveybody's gifts were fantastic.
Googs and I are so excited but nervous haha. I can't wait to meet our baby! A little girl!
I never thought I'd have children and to have them so young is really unexpected but I'm thrilled to be about to be a mum. I'm sure she'll be beautiful like her father.
Will post again soon.
Ciao.

Who knows?

I want money. Money, money, money. And I want stuff. Lots of it. Useless, meaningless, plastic shit. Fill my house up with it. I'll love it.

Swallowholzer

Today my Year 12 Studio Arts class and I travelled into the city to view two of the most prominent exhibitions currently available to the public, the first being Ricky Swallow's The Bricoleur.

Swallow's work was utterly awe-inspiring and at times hard to believe - we often were left standing, wondering how on earth a person could make hardwood seem so soft, delicate and real. Killing Time was fantastically detailed, although my personal favourites were Salad Days and Flying On The Ground Is Wrong.

Holzer's gallery was entirely different - in a sense you were forced to become part of the work, but at the same time confronted by the fact that even you, as a part of the art, do not fully understand what it means.

The main part of her exhibition was made up of a room covered in scrolling projected poems, too huge to read comprehensively but obviously there, and heat-sensitive bean bags that you unwittingly left handprints and silhouettes all over for a full ten minutes before realising just how much of a mark you had left on the work, literally.

I am looking forward to seeing Ron Mueck's exhibition at the art centre in a month or so; it should be just as fascinating albeit slightly creepier haha.

Toodles.

Jellies?

Give me jellies!
I'll love you all forever if you ask me a question, any question, at http://formspring.me/alyssajayne.
:D

Fatness sucks

It's shit when you're one of those few teenage girls who are fat. I'm not gonna sugar-coat, that's what I am, and other girls my size, you're fat too. I'm not being mean. I'm just saying what we're all thinking.

Don't tell me I can get rid of it with hard work, I know that, I'm not spastic. It's just that it is hard work.

Anyway, I have to go to the beach for 8 days tomorrow with my boyfriend's family. Do I want to go? No. Fuck no. I want to force myself to be sick so that I can get out of it. Is that fair? Of course not. But the thought of being there, exposed, with all those slim people having fun, makes me want to curl up in a ball and die. Sadly, I can't do that, so I just sit at the computer crying.

Fuck my life.

Newlyn; the place to be?

Well I'm not sure how many of you are aware that I've been seeing my new boyfriend Googs for about 3 and a half months now. Anyway, he lives about a 2 hour train ride away, but close to 3 hours all up, in Newlyn (it's about a 30 minute drive from Ballarat, near Daylesford).
Anyway, I figured since I haven't posted in a while and I've just got back from spending the weekend up there, I'd dedicate a blog to some photos of the area; it's really beautiful haha.

We're dirty

Sunlight doesn't love me, but the potheads can't resist.
This dark and lonely basement, my very first kiss; pale, chapped lips.
You’ll walk beside me all alone, ‘cause we’re no more than ants to them.
The grimy walls of corridors that lead nowhere and back again.
This is the anthem for all who’ve lost nothing and nobody, not yet.
The weeds creeping slowly toward our tired ankles – we’ll never forget!

Battering lamb of god

Force our way in through the gate
The city burns in our wake
Smash it!
Smash it!
No wood or fire used to break
Ere lamb of god your town will quake!

Battering lamb
Battering lamb of god

Smash its head into the door
From ears and eyes foul blood shall pour
Smash it!
Smash it!
Slammed so hard its skull will crack
Fucked from behind til its neck snaps
Smash it!
Smash it!
Entrails ripped and thrown at mobs
Slaughtered lamb to please our Gods

Battering lamb
Battering lamb of god
Battering lamb
Battering lamb of god

No more whimpers, no more bleating
The lamb has suffered my cock beating
Your homes become our blasphemy
Your screams become a symphony
Cocks in bleeding, frozen cunts
Victimized, I fuck and grunt
Smash it!
Smash it!

Battering lamb
Battering lamb of god

Summer is just a sweatier cold

My arms shivered, thousands of tiny hairs standing up like little soldiers trying to fend off the cold, but they couldn't. There was no army strong enough... because the cold was inside me.
It was a muggy summer evening, legs hanging over the warm white tiles and dangling small, pale feet into the chemical blue pool water. A longneck with a little foam still dripping from the mouth rested on its side a few inches from my right hand. The air held the sweet scent of freshly cut grass and chlorine, but inside the peeling white weatherboard house, I knew it smelled of manmade cold, that familiarly dusty yet pleasant aroma that the old air conditioner gave off.
For the first time in my life I wasn't looking back, I wanted to be right there where I was, right then. I wanted the tiny little kitten scratches on my hands, the broken toe nail from kicking the bedpost. I wanted the pretty, wavy beach blonde hair and I wanted to walk to the milk bar late at night for raspeberry slurpees and TeeVee snacks. Everything was perfect, except for the damn freezing cold that kept creeping through my veins and over my crawling skin.
They say that when you shiver, somebody's walked over your grave. But I know that isn't true. Not for me at least. I shivered because I was dying.

Where are my eggs?

If somebody has seen my eggs, please - let me know!
Reward of $25,000 ffor the return of my beloved eggs.

Massive aggressive

Well, I received my Massive Aggressive fan box and t-shirt today after pre-ordering it a few weeks ago, hoorah.

I think the shirt is probably my favourite of all the ones I have now, not really because of the novelty factor but rather because it's white and just a change from the constant onslaught of black band t-shirts you see on every street corner and in every shopping centre. The CD is, well, Municipal Waste and I'm waiting on the chance to get shitfaced whilst listening; because in my opinion, it's simply the only way to fully experience a great new album, haha. And then there's just the extra goodies that come in the box, the patch, sweatband and a few 1" badges, which are pretty sweet.

Anyway, I'm getting a little bored of blogging to be honest, so I'm gonna down some voddy.

Cheers!

Because I know nothing

We’ll keep to ourselves mostly
We’ll never know
The world that’s around us
Of desert and snow
But one day, just maybe
We’ll take our first steps
And til then we’ll live out
Our lives, quiet and rest.

With small feet and small hands
Oh we’ll never grow
To explore, discover
What makes the world glow
Like snails in the garden
We’ll sleep all day long
And beg of your pardon
We’ve been here too long.

The rain on the window
Betrays winter dreams
The bright yellow sun dances
In golden streams
We’ll leave here, go somewhere
Where it’s all unknown
And maybe, we’ll come back
With something to show.

A little friendly advertising

Congratulations to Andrew, Ben, Joel, Adrian and Merlin for winning last night's Battle of the Bands.
Sorry I could only be there in spirit!
Keep up the great work, and continue to blow us away!
Flesh Decay are headlining at the Macleod YMCA on the 18th of July, can't wait. If you can, I highly recommend you go and support them, they're not only great musicians but top notch guys all round.
x

Justin(e): Soaked in blood

44 days.
I hate him so much.
What a cunt.
xx

En as i dype skogen

43 days and standing strong, friends.
Let's see if I'm still doing as well by day 50.
xx

Lost wisdom

I sifted through the papers, aged like torn, brown leaves scattered across autumn's damp, grassy base, and squinted at the smudged, faded letters, attempting to figure out what word they'd once spelled.

An unusually strong gust of wind found its way through the trees from the east and blew my waist-length hair across my face. My vision was completely obscured by the hair, flowing and shining like honey in the pale evening sun that was dappled across the needled forest floor. I knealt, placing the pages beneath my left knee and using both of my hands to tuck the gently waving tresses behind my ears before continuing to search the papers for something, anything. I wasn't sure. A word, not so deteriorated as the rest, caught me eye. "Ëlothrim," I read aloud, in only a hushed whisper. Fear. It was not safe to speak in a raised voice any longer, even here.

I gathered the papers and set them neatly in the leather cover from which they had fallen. I rose to my my standing height - a full 6 foot, 4 inches - and shook my hair over my shoulders. In any direction, one could see naught but trees. The ancient pines stood tightly together, leaving only small spaces through which one could pass and making it nearly impossible for any who did not know the forest Nífyrre well to travel through. The clearing in which I stood was itself only a few metres across and for the most part was ridden with thick, gnarled tree roots.

Another icy blast of wind rolled through the woods, and seemed to push what little light remained far into the southwest. The forest took on a shadowy, blue-green hue and seemed to creak, the moss and needles beneath my leather boots groaning mournfully at the peril that now lay so close to Nífyrre's vast boundaries.

To be continued.

Wodensday

A house; with a door: 1, 2, 3, 4!
Knock knock - ready to play?
What's the day? It's Wodensday!

So I've decided that every Wednesday I will have a Wodensday Warrior of the Week (note: the alliteration was unintended).
This week's Warrior is Hans Fyrste from Ragnarok and Svarttjern.

He's blonde, well-built and not afraid to get messy... a very important trait in men. Did I forget to mention he's Norwegian? That covers it all then, haha.

See you tomorrow, guys!
xx

I'm so weak

Yeah, so, it's been a day right? Right.
I'm already talking to Justin again. Right now actually.
And listening to Eminem. Whatever bitch, I do what I wannuh!
Let's fuckkkk.
xx

Abandonment

Well it's been a while, that's for sure.

So I haven't seen Justin for about a week now and it's been three times as long since I saw him last. The reason being, he dropped out of school. What a fucker.
So I went temporarily insane, what with the fact that I'm now never gonna see my best friend again. But hey, who cares right?
So he promises me we'll hang this weekend. Well the weekend is here and he's vanished out of thin air - knowing him he'll appear online on Monday night with some lovely tale of his internet being cut off or him falling deathly ill and having no way possible of contacting me.
Well I'm through with him. I'm so sick of the pain he causes me.
I can't keep waiting on him; he was never there for me and he never will be.

As well as the Justin situation, I've become a lot closer to Georgie. She's pretty fucking awesome, I've gotta say - I feel like she actually listens, doesn't just wait for her turn to speak. Cool kid (I mean it, too). So she's coming over tomorrow night and we're pretty much gonna watch Metalocalypse and talk about Tajikistan and Norway with dreamy looks on our faces while she refuses to share Stringy (Toki). It's gonna GO OFF!! Haha.
We're both pretty shitty at the moment, no thanks to mid-years and other shit, but I guess the mid-years are a big "owie" factor in both our lives right now. I did my English and music exams yesterday; both, I'm sure, poorly.

On a lighter topic, I've been buying a lot of albums lately; Burzum, Carpathian Forest, Graveland, Myrkgrav and so on... and I'm really satisfied by it. For some reason just knowing that the albums really belong to me, that I earned them, I dunno. It feels right.

I'll start posting more regularly, promise.
xx