CrushCrushCrush

Now lets discuss crushes
bastards

I havent had a crush in a while and id be lying if i didnt say i had one now

well la-di-da its a dead end

now lets discuss the horribleness that takes place in having a crush

not that im obsessive..

ok maybe i DO get a bit obsessive

but then again doesnt everybody?

from what i remember from having a crush, and im pretty sure that many teenage girls have experienced this

you feel like everything you do, they see

every flaw

like i feel like once theyre on like msn or something you kinda want to  immediately talk to them

but you dont because you dont want to seem obsessive or whatever

just hoping theyll start the conversation

so instead you distract yourself

opening lets say, other tabs or going on sites constantly refreshing it to find something that will take your mind off them

but in the back of your mind you know you can just type "hi" and your stress will be all over

but then you think

oh god, am i annoying them?

and youre in this cycle of distraught until you realise that they are no longer online

depressed youre like

oh god why didnt i talk to them?

this goes on for so many days that eventually you two never talk anymore

and your relationship shatters

not really shatters

thats too dramatic

more wilt

like the rose on a summer day! 

then eventually you never ever talk anymore

and you regret so much

gah

then you think

what if someone was like that to you?

youre causally online

and someone on the other end is fretting about you?

that they say "hi" to you and you see it as nothing and you merely reply with a "hi"

and they took up so much courage just to do that

absorbing each little thing you say like a sponge, looking for signs if youre interested or not

and its like

it sounds so obsessive but its true

this is what emotions fucking do to us

ugh but ive had worse, much more stalkerish attributes to reveal

like facebook stalking!

considering everything they say as a sign that they may like you back

at one point

but i let it fucking slip

our convos shortened and he barely replied anymore

and every time his name would appear on my

...


"social network/messenger"

i would just stare at it

hoping he would talk to me

but he never does

sigh

oh what a world

why cant..

i just..

ugh

you know??


What if i did go to that outing with him? what if i talked to him? what if? what if? what fucking if??????

oh the single life

its fucking sucks.


man i finally got over him too

for some closure i deleted his number
our texts
our photos

i had to record the number of days that i DIDNT go on his facebook

i didnt think about him for what? a year? 2?

now it has come back

he was so cool

man

fuck

life sucks

seriously tho

there is no such thing as love

 only obsession 



Love From at

hohoho

hey yall

so lets talk about today

well i have yet to mention one of the best days of my life but anyways

went to apply for dymocks and got an abrupt interview
lets all hope i get the job man love love love books

and yeah jess and i had a pretty fun day

the day before snez and i went para which was also pretty fun cause i was meant to study

i also applied for this gaming store

and they had a card tournament and i asked how to play magic

and some nerdy asian bum bum was like "THATS NOT MAGIC AHHAHAHA"

and im like.. what a cunt

LOL fuck him he'll never get laid, he sounded so crude as well mannn

and yeah walk around went back to cabra and met with Danny and William

they ate ham and carrots and potatoes and drank some cola

it was nice

i took a nap while they were studying chemistry

that was about it

fun hanging out

yeah now lets get down to the nitty gritty

CHRISTMAS LIST!!!!!
  • NOTHING BEATLES PLEASE, there is a high chance i already have it LOL
  • NO WAIT I WOULD LOVE THE "HELP" movie tho, the beatles, but thats it
  • pulp fiction poster
  • BONSAI TREE LOL
  • John lennon glasses
  • heart shape sunglasses
  • "cat eye" sunglasses found at sports girl, they also have another vintage looking one
  • Band shirts (led zeppelin, pink f, jimi hendrix, the smiths, rage against the machine, the cure)
  • ANYTHING TAME IMPALA
  • velvet, just a shit load of velvet material
  • etch-a-sketch (mini)
  • 10TH DOCTOR ACTION FIGURE 
  • va books, i love drawing
  • tartan shirts, i dont care what colour, i just love em, BIG MUST BE BIG!!
  • BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS ( i am a MASSIVE fan of penguin paper backs, orange books)
  • the beautiful and damned 
  • Catcher in the Rye 
  •  a clockwork orange
  • frankenstien
  •  the hounds of baskervilles (sherlock <3)
  • Jane Eyre
  • Doctor Jekell and Mister Hyde
  • nineteen eighty four
  • ulysses
  •  American psyco
  •  to kill a mockingbird   
  •  the perks of being a wallflower
  •  wuthering heights  
  • Slyvia Plath or Edgar Allen Poes collection of poerty <3 
yeah i suck an zstufffff





Love From at

HOME


Home

The warm air envelops me as blissful smell of spring greets my senses. The school bells chime and I am hit with the feeling dread of knowing that only isolation is yet to come. 3:05. Home time.
Day by day my walks home have gradually slowed down meaning my happiness will be extended. Euphoria runs through my veins as I frolic, feeling the cool soft wind through my hair and hearing the clatter of my thick leather school shoes on the pavement. The freshly cutgrass, the fragrant roses, the splash of the sprinklers on my bare calves, I wish I could wander forever.
From a distance I hear the cry of children. My feet begin to swerve as I turn toward the park. Crunches of breaking sticks and crumbling leaves direct me to a series of youngsters, flying high on swings and dropping down on slides.
I sit, for a bit, on a splintered, graffiti infested chair all weary and black. A man catches my eye with his darling little girl decked in a red tartan dress and pigtails aged around 5.
She grins graciously as her father holds her tiny palms tightly. On a short stonewall he lifts her, telling her “spread your wings and fly!” If she were to fall he will be there. She reaches the end and with a jump, he catches her and holds her above his head. “I’m flying daddy!” she exclaims with a joyous laughter. Without a moment I zip home.
My hands shake and my chest have some sort of ache, feeling the anxiety raise I take short abrupt breaths to somehow calm down. Aimlessly walking I feel my throat turn into saw dust; somehow I am outside the door, my door.
Once I drop myself on the couch I freeze, remising about what I saw in a cycle of emotion, downing in envy, my wide eyes begin to sting but nothing happens.  I am paralysed in this plight of angst and anxiety, and I can’t even shed a tear.
Hours pass and I remain still until a jingle of keys snap me out of whatever I was in.
“Did you eat anything yet.” He scolds, not even a question in a tone nowhere near friendly. Not even a hello, not even hi.
“What the hell are you doing?” he continued in voice which stabs you in the heart a million times over, making you feel worthless “lazy girl, get changed! Why are you still in your uniform, goddammit you do nothing all day!”
His mutters and complaints are ongoing as I rush up the stairs and change into my pyjamas. Coming back downstairs in no time I stare into the dark silence “Dad?”
He left. He’s gone, like always, not even a goodbye.
Slowly I drift back into my cold mattress and I watch my ceiling. So alone. So numb. The horrible, neglectful, lonesome, loneliness concave my body like hard cold waves on the prickly, invasive sand.
A loud thump wakes me up, he is home, and the stale drench of alcohol fill my nose, as his loud heavy footsteps count each step, sounds of hesitation and confusion are outside my door. My heart races.
My door swings open and I quickly bury myself under the sheet, I revert back to my childhood, thinking of a monster trying to get to me but can’t reach me with this blanket on my head. But deep inside I know otherwise.
        My bed tilts as his radiating warmth is by my feet, I don’t react, I try and keep deep breathes although I’m almost shaking. His hand is on my foot and my heart races ten times faster, then I hear him slur.
“I'm sorry,” he mutters through drunken lips “I wish I can be a better father, but you don’t really get lessons do you? My beautiful little girl I’m sorry”
He shuffles and gives me a kiss on my head and head back to his room.
I cant help but smile and the tears come naturally. 
Love From at
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)