I'm pretty old

This is going to be a super duper short blog; I just wanted to let you all know that I'm celebrating my 5,660th day on earth and boy is it great to be alive! Soon enough I'll be wrinkling, and not just when I'm in the bath.

Fifty-five days, I says

It's only 55 days until I head O.S. and I am completely bewildered and amazed at hoe quickly time how flown since I first decided to go to Germany. Way back in 2006, in fact! What do you know. Yes, back when I was 13 I had a dream. A dream to travel outside this barren land and see the snow and - god forbid - rain. Maybe they have grass there. What a trip! I wonder if there's wind in Europe.*

So here's a little countdown to watch while I wait, it's sure to bring me joy with each passing day. Germany is the reason I actually started this blog in the first place so once I finally get there you'll never stop hearing about it!

Argghh, I can't believe it's so close, yet so far away!
Excitement overload, much?

*No, I'm not being serious.

Robotic

Four days in and I feel I've been consumed by this holiday madness. Hours running into hours, days running into days. Day and night no longer transcend from one to the other, they merely crash into each other to blend one whole, dim life. My surroundings a watercolour painting, lacking detail and sustain. It feels I'm collapsing in my own shoebox diorama - the show must stop. My once neat little world has been catapulted into disarray.

Working. Hours of standing, dusting, greeting, speaking, packing and pretending to be human. I don’t care about these people.
Recreation. Laying in my room crying with the television on, wanting him to be my own, not hers. Why her?
Sleeping. Tossing and turning in nightmarish convulsions, rapping my raw, red knuckles against the bed post until my father hears and comes to see what all the noise is.

Is this life? Just drifting through the stages, lifeless, doing things without thinking because they’ve been keyed into us like a machine? If I walk, I don’t know where I’ll end up.

And I'm so afraid.
Somebody, please.

Help me.

A blasphemous eulogy

A suicide nobody noticed; a love letter nobody read.
Is this how you thank the girl who held your head against her chest?
Who forgave you time and time again for letting her heart break,
Who sat through all the torture moaning because you preferred it fake?
She yelled and cried and cut her wrists but nothing ever changed,
So now she's given up trying to make her life a better place.
She heard a word, it tore her up, she nearly burst into tears.
But she hid it because she learned to from these two long, awful years.
Drowned in sorrow, burned by guilt, she kissed another man.
And now she's cut her throat to see if then you'd hold her hand.
For over a thousand deadly days she slowly faded black,
A memory soon forgotten because you wouldn't take her back.
She apologized, laid the world at your feet but it never was enough.
Tear-stained and bloodied, two teenagers, victim to a love so rough.



I loved you.

Rotund rebels

Today was rather fun. Cameron, Joel, Blair, Nathan, Julian and I decided to crash Macleod park's gazebo and boy was it exciting. Nathan aka Lionel's phone is better than mine because it has water in it - he can drink it through his nose! And Cameron is apparently now my boyfriend. All is well in Candyland.

But ohhh no - watch out for the shiny red Holden! Zip down Aberdeen Road came Papa G with his foot on the pedal and his mind of a crisp new pack of Horizons. So up I jump, out of the mighty 'tund and into a nearby wattle. Heck that thing was scratchy! My eyebrow still has a little red mark. God bless Australia.

Nathan being excited by his water-filled phone.

Joel being completely pussy-whipped.

Cameron playing handball (back: Ice Truck Killer!)

Anyway that's about all for now.
Toodles!

Two thousand and sicks

My breath is short and my heartbeat is slowing down to a tightening pace. It makes my chest feel inflated and blocked off from the rest of my body.
My head is light and dizzy. Year 8 is leaping up into mouth, begging for freedom. I wish I could let it go. I spray my Fa deodorant. My throat locks up. My eyes flicker. Is this really happening?
I waver and nearly fall. I can taste beer. I can feel his head in my lap, stroking my leg. Leave, fucking get away. I don't want that. Not that. The rest is okay. Just not him.
My blonde fringe swings in front of my eyes. Huge, blue eyes. Two fat, chunky rings clink on the front of my teeth as I grin wide and bright. Fuck yes. This is it. My hit. My drug. Year 8...

xx

Snapshot

Well this will just be a short one, I'm advertising my dA account as my deviations are pretty comment-lonely at the moment.

I do try to take a few nice photos every now and again and I'd love to hear some honest feedback so I can improve.

The link is http://alyssajayne.deviantart.com/.

I hope there's something there you like!

xx