It has become evident (after ransacking every pen-selling store) that my favourite pens have disappeared off the face of this planet. That or retailers have made a conscious decision to never ever stock my favourite pens again.
Yay for K-Mart at least they sell the black one's, i was so desparate for these pens that i asked the lady if they had stock, as expected i got the 'what we have there is what we have' response.
Screw you.


Subscribed
Nerd World- Time Magazine.


New font phase.
Size 10 Cambria.

Reading
The God Of Small Things.
It's beyond description.

Listening
Nothing Better- The Postal Service

i do need my friends.
i'll remember this.

Every little mistake i make is being amplified.
Added to the bank of my incompetency, my inadequacy, my inability to fulfill these expectations.
I don't know what's happened. I'm growing frustrated, it seems that everything i do ,i lack the confidence i once had. People point out my faults and i grow more conscious of what i'm lacking.
I don't want to tell other people, because i'd only get self pity. What am i supposed to say? Am i suppose to fish for compliments?
No that's not me. I have to find a way out of this abyss.
Believe in myself.
I used to think i could do anything, even when i failed.
What the fuck is happening.

Am I falling or flying? It's impossible to distinguish between the two. Two distinct feelings, yet i can't say i'm flying and i can't say i'm falling.
Where am I?
Am I suddenly indecisive? The one who falls a little and flys a little- but can never touch the clouds, can never see the stars...can never be there.
Stuck in the middle.
But there's no place for me. This parachute won't hold me up for much longer and i want control, the control that comes with flight.
I'm sick of being a puppet. I want to pick myself up when I fall.

Reading some of my posts is like fruitlessly trying to reframe myself in a self portrait i was never in. I can't believe the amount of things i spill and how much of myself seeps into this. There's frustration, the slight fragrance of cynacism, masked sarcasm. I'm writting as if everything matters and these memories are all i have. I write to myself most of the time, and i can see at times where i thought things mattered, and certain people read this.... My mind over thinks when i'm awake at 1 am

Truncate

A blinding glow
is the street light’s luminescence
you’re eyes
a savage white
equally bright,
though bloodshot
when you strain to see,
the ghost of existence and what isn't there.
a web of capillares,
like the roads
that lead to nowhere.
flickering, ebbing, diffusing...
controlled by the night, controlled by the search.

the middle

Yesterday:

University of Sydney:


Ceremony was in a hogwarts-esque building.

Girl sitting next to me was named Emma Watson. "No Hermione crack jokes please!"

All the boys were nate archibald-esque, albeit the asian boys.

I made friends with a girl named Anastasia, we were mocking all the high class kids,
who had blazers with their extra cirricular actvities embroidered onto them. It was just like woah, aren't they something! (I inadvertently/ ahem not really obscured my school emblem with my tag-a. because no one had heard of my school b. it's a class c school compared to everyone else's! c. thus i shan't draw attention to myself, in such a hobbo state. bahahahaha! )

I could hear snippets of conversations, and everyone was just talking about
school. "Oh yes, Absolute Values..." "No i find english easier.." Funny that.

It was apparent that the University were handpiciking students . ( Count on the amount of times the vice chancellor guy said "i hope all of you attend this university!" comes to a grand total of 158522222!)

I thought it was pretty cool though, i really want to go there.