stone age graffiti

it's over. blogger is done. dead. dead. gone. dead.

2010-08-07T21:41:00.002+10:00

#30. A letter to a bowl of fruit.
dear fruit,
i love fruit
but this bowl is not full of good fruit
at all.
it's shitty fruit
bruised fruit
i want a fucking pineapple.
watermelon
strawberries
some mango
green apples.
that's it.
maybe some mandarin
rockmelon..
orange..
i like fruit.
love fruit.
love hannah.

bye.

she's not a secret now; but nobody cares

2010-08-06T15:44:00.003+10:00

#29. A letter to a letter you’ve written
dear letters
because i write so many letters, this is hard
so this is just a blanket letter
to all my letters
my letters discarded in people's draws
the ones that probably got burnt
the ones people haven't read in a long while
or the one's up on walls
this also encompasses letters that are really just notes
notes in cds, notes in books, notes
or the embarrassing letters on this page.
i meant everything i said in my letters.
everyone who has one knows this.
you all know how i feel
obviously i like you quite an amount to be sending you a letter
heck, i'm writing one to slamm now.
yes, we send letters.
we send letters when we sit next to each other in class.
i hope that no one threw out those letters and cards and stuff
i know i don't
i keep them in a box.
or if they're one-sided, i glue them
i love letters
write me a letter.
love hannah

SOUNDWAVEKALHGAKLHGAKWAWESOME.

2010-08-05T20:38:00.002+10:00

#28. A letter to a movie you hate
we're nearly done. qotsa are coming out. this is exciting.
and yeah, i realise i changed from writing no. to # halfway through, but really, i don't give a fuck.
dear avatar,
i never bothered to watch you
you looked tacky
overhyped.
dull.
i don't give a shit if you have effects
if that's the only drawcard, i don't want to see you anyway
3d glasses make me look retarded. i wear them over my real glasses.
and apparently the plot is that of pocahontas.
and you know what? i like her better.
she's not blue. and annoying.
sorry i'm not into 'epic' movies.
but sammy d says it's shit, and even if she likes twilight, more often than not, i trust her judgement.
no love, hannah.

i can see that face far away in the crowd

2010-08-04T14:47:00.002+10:00

#27. A letter to band that really needs to break up
there are so many of these, it's hard to pick a favourite..
dear muse,
you're just awful
please stop.
please.
for the good of mankind, just stop
you're almost as bad as the ronan keating my mother insists on playing through her gigantic speakers
you make me want to barf.
i'm so glad i went to dead prez instead of you
dead prez were ballin' and i got gozleme too.
so.. suck it.
no love, you have enough brainwashed fangirls to do that for me, hannah

PRIMALSCREAMPRIMALSCREAM.

2010-08-03T17:59:00.001+10:00

#26. A letter to the future cyborg version of you
dear me,
i'm really sorry about how i whine all the time and never study
i'd say that'd be detrimental to you, future self
but you're a cyborg, so hsc don't matter anyways.
no love for you, we all know the cool kids are self-deprecating
hannah

there's no eyes in your head,

2010-08-02T20:47:00.001+10:00

#25. A letter to Gary Busey
dear gary busey,
i nothing you
in your entire filmography, i've maybe seen one.
that's not enough to make a judgement call
i also don't remember your role in it
fear and loathing is a good movie though.
that's a plus.
love hannah

keep it on the ground.

2010-08-01T12:03:00.002+10:00

fuck you, fat bitch.
sort your shit out already.
stop asking for fucking attention.
stop saying things in order to illicit a certain response;
then shit on it.

#24. A letter to one of your bodyparts
dear boobs
grow damn you, grow.
love hannah

blood running down the inside of her legs.

2010-07-31T18:30:00.000+10:00

#23. A letter to the drug of your choice.
dear weed,
we should do this more often
i had a swell time
see you soon darlingcakes
love hannah

have you ever seen the light?

2010-07-30T17:03:00.003+10:00

i'm fucking off to tumblr because there's more people on tumblr
and harry advises it.
so i'll finish letters on here, but beyond that, tumblr ahoy.
byez

#22. A letter to something you want to fuck
dear something i want to fuck
.cut your hair
then we'll do it.
love hannah

we're finding it hard to be alone.

2010-07-29T16:33:00.003+10:00

#21. A letter to something you’ve owned for 5 years+
dear cd player,
you've gotten me through some tough times.
you've also made them worse.
at times when i couldn't be arsed to change the cd and it made me nostalgic.
but otherwise you're quite good.
for playing discs.
i got quite upset when you used to jump and scratch and randomly turn off.
but you gave up on that, because you're a nice bloke.
sometimes you're there during pivotal moments of my life.
you're actually there for all the in-room times.
from getting ready in the morning, or night, to studying or decoratin' ma walls
you've been there
a good friend, a trusted friend
you played me sonic youth when things got intimate. yeah, you're a trooper.
i love you,
love hannah

Wait a minute now you just can't run away
You got no money and you got no place to stay
Things are bad but there's always another way
How would you know if you never ever saw me?
Oh no! When I look at you I see
Why you looking so crazy?
Why you looking so lonely for love?
What do you wanna feel now?
Why you looking so crazy?
Why you looking so lonely for love?
What do you wanna see now?
Wait a minute, it's all wrong
Wait a minute, it's all gone wrong!
Wait a minute now you just can't hide away
You got no money and you got no face to save
You think it's bad but there's always another way
How would you know if you never ever saw me?
Oh no! When I look at you I see
Why you looking so crazy?
Why you looking so lonely for love?
What do you wanna be now?
Why you looking so crazy?
Why you looking so lonely for love?
What do you wanna be now?
Wait a minute, it's all wrong
Wait a minute, it's all gone wrong!
What do you wanna see?
Oh yeah!
What do you wanna be?
What do you wanna feel?
Oh yeah!

i like this song and meerkats because they're both talkin' about being crazy. and they get lonely. and hysterical. they remind me of me. and it's sayin' what do you wanna be? and everyone keeps asking me that. imma work at a publishing house. suck on that.
i hope this weekend works out nicely. that'd make me so happy.
but if worst comes to worst, BRMC SUNDAY will lift the spirits/motivation. which has plummeted. plunged even. into a gaping cavern of moodswings.

help me out, i need it.
bullshit, you need me.
fuck you, i need you.
NEEDNEEDNEED.
WANTWANTWANT
BITCHBITCHBITCH.
can't you do anything on your own?

check out this sweet meerkat:

and i'll drink it by myself.

2010-07-28T17:30:00.002+10:00

#20. A letter to an animal you think is fucking stupid
dear chihuahua
you give dogs a bad name.
you're so shit and small and annoying and little
you may as well be a fucking cat.
not cool. stop being like that.
grow up
no love, hannah.

Shakin' like the Devil when she lets me go
Got a new place, and how it's so much better
Falling over myself, the televisions' on,
I turn it off and smile
Oh, Jennifer, you know I always tried
Before you say goodbye

Leave the bourbon on the shelf
And I'll drink it by myself
And I love you endlessly,
Darling don't you see I'm not satisfied
Until I hold you tight
Give me one more chance tonight
And I swear I'll make it right
But you ain't got time for this
And that wreckin' bell is ringin'
And I'm not satisfied
Until I hold you

Jennifer, tell me where I stand
And who's that boy holdin' your hand?
Oh, Jennifer, you know I always tried
Before you say goodbye

Leave the bourbon on the shelf
And I'll drink it by myself
And I never liked your hair or those people that you lie with
But I'm not satisfied
Until I hold you tight
And I love you endlessly,
Darling don't you see I can't be satisfied
Until I hold you tight

Leave the bourbon on the shelf
And I'll drink it by myself
And I love you endlessly,
Darling don't you see
I'm not satisfied

ALTERNATELY

The unknown distance to the gray beyond
Stares back at my grieving frame
To cast my shadow by the holy sun
My spirit moans, with a sacred pain

It's quiet now
The universe is standing still
And there's nothing I can say
There's nothing we can do now
And there's nothing I can say
There's nothing we can do now

And all that stands between the soul's release
This temporary flesh and bone
And know that it's over now
I feel my fading mind begin to roam
Every time you fall, and every time you try
Every foolish dream, and every compromise
Every word you spoke, and everything you said
Everything you left me, rambles in my head

And there's nothing I can say
There's nothing I can do now
And there's nothing I can say
There's nothing I can do now

Up above the world, so high

Everything you loved, and every time you try
Everybody's boxed in, and everybody cry
Stay, don't leave me, the stars can wait for your sign, don't signal now

There's nothing I can say
There's nothing I can do now
And there's nothing I can say
There's nothing I can do now

Goodnight, travel well

Goodnight, travel well

There's nothing I can say
Nothing I can do now

Goodnight, travel well

ALTERNATELY

Lazy days help me through the hopeless haze
But my oh my
Tragic eyes I can't even recognize myself behind

So if the answer is no
Can I change your mind?

Out again, a siren screams at half past ten
And you won't let go
While I ignore that we both felt like this before
It starts to show

So if I have a chance
Would you let me know?

Why aren't you shaking?
Sent back in time
Graciously taken
Oh, you're too kind

And if the answer is no
Can I change your mind?

We're all the same
And love is blind
The sun is gone
Before it shines

And I said
If the answer is no
Can I change your mind?
If the answer is no
Can I change your mind?

in a room with a window in the corner, i found truth.

2010-07-27T18:18:00.001+10:00

i am not what you want
i don't know how long i'll be here.

#19. A letter to an animal you like
dear meerkat
you're flipping sweet.
you and sloths.
you just hang out, poppin' out, really small, going about your business
like a boss.
i like you.
get tame and be my pet, plox.
love hannah.

can't we just have sex already?

2010-07-26T23:06:00.002+10:00

#18. A letter to a website that ruined your life
dear blogger,
if it weren't for you, not everyone would know how pathetic i am
uncool. uncool.
i didn't give you permission to make this revelation to the world.
oh wait, yeah i did.
fuck. my bad.
love hannah.

seriously, is all they do on skins fuck?

crazy? what are you then?

2010-07-25T22:39:00.000+10:00

sunbeam, stop tugging me
Pull that door shut quietly
Darling, what are you doing?
We don't have time for this

Crazy what are you then?
Give me an hour and I'll give you your dreams...

Don't make a sound
Shh and listen
Keep your head down
We're not safe yet
Don't make a sound
And be good for me
'Cause I know the way to somewhere out here

Leave it I won't go back
We have to do it 'cause it's not been left here
Don't care what do they know
I've seen them, baby, and I know it's real
Sure, in time, I knew they'd come
Oh, are we having fun or what?

Yeah...

Don't make a sound
Shh and listen
Keep your head down
We're not safe yet
Don't make a sound
And be good for me
'Cause I know they're waiting somewhere out here

I feel good all over
I feel good all over
I feel good all over

Even inside out...

i could still be yours.

2010-07-25T12:14:00.001+10:00

lalalalalalala.
i want to go back to bed.
30 rock time.

hahahahahahahahaSTOPLAUGHING.

2010-07-24T22:33:00.001+10:00

I cried myself to sleep last night
And the ghost of Carl, he approached my window
I was hypnotized, I was asked
To improvise
On the attitude, the regret
Of a thousand centuries of death

Even with the heart of terror and the superstitious wearer
I am riding all alone
I am writing all alone

Even in my best condition, counting all the superstition
I am riding all alone
I am running all alone

And we laughed at the beatitudes of a thousand lines
We were asked at the attitudes
They reminded us of death

Even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated
Are you writing from the heart?
Are you writing from the heart?

Even in his heart the Devil has to know the water level
Are you writing from the heart?
Are you writing from the heart?

And I cried myself to sleep last night
For the Earth, and materials, they may sound just right to me

i love you so much, never forget.

2010-07-24T20:12:00.005+10:00

i'll tell you why i don't want to know where you are, i've got a joke i've been dying to tell you
the silent kid is looking down the barrel to make the noise that i kept so quiet
kept it from you, pitseleh
i'm not what's missing from your life now, i could never be the puzzle pieces
they say that god makes problems just to see what you can stand before you do as the devil pleases
give up the thing you love
but no one deserves it
the first time i saw you i knew it would never last, i'm not half what i wish i was
i'm so angry, i don't think it'll ever pass, and i was bad news for you just because
i never meant to hurt you

good night.
another bad morning.

just kidding, i'm the puzzle pieces.

but honestly, let's talk about stuff.
so it begins:
the last time i wrote was just before bouzo's. and i'm writing now because i don't feel like studying. sunday can be study day.
during that day, i went out. i saw get him to the greek again with a friend, and it was quite lovely. i was quite happy. he said he'd call while i was away. i didn't believe him.
bouzo's was a lovely evening. not because i was especially drunk, and not because i was dancing well, but because everyone was gathered and we all had a chat and a smoke and a drink and a laugh and a dance and it was all quiet pleasant. thanks bouzo for the hospitality, a lovely evening. devastated i had to leave early when there was still sangria left to drink, but you know, the plane beckoned.
so then i went to hamilton island, and let's say this much, i am not a fan of queensland. i really don't like it. i don't like it's image, i don't like the prices, i don't like the monopoly, i don't like the tropical weather, i don't like it's consumerist symbolism. and these thoughts invaded my little brain for the first couple days. day #1 i recall wasn't much. we got there and that seems to be about it. i think that was 'let's explore the island!' day. the island is small. the island has an airport, and a beach which we first saw at low-tide. not impressive. the little beaches in the morning though, the secluded ones, very impressive. but we were on the marina side anyway, and we had one fourperson buggy for seven people. not cool. so yeah, we ended up having a bit of a nap by the seaside because we're all lazy and like to nap. plus most of us had evenings out the night before. as you do when you're about to go on holiday. i think we spent the night watching louis theroux, it seems like us.
day #2 was quite the day as well. i was grumpy to woken up early, but the beach was beautiful. quite a trek to get there though. lengthy, predominantly uphill. not fucking cool. but i took model shots of my brother i may post one day. he's a keeper. anyway, the usual beachside antics occurred. lots of dunking, carrying and dacking, both voluntary and involuntary. because that's how the fam relates. i think there was tennis in the afternoon, and i'm quite awful. and was disappointed because the arcade didn't have big buck's jungle safari. then after dinner we watched woody allen. watching gene wilder with a sheep is awkward when you're with your fam. and can't hold your bourbon. but i can add that to my list of sexual movies i've watched with my parents, after superbad. oh god. and dave called, so woot. i had someone calling to replenish my sanity.
day #3 was much better. i woke up not so grumpy, although still early, and we went on a boat. we went on a boat to the middle of the outer reef to snorkel. i was '14' so it would be inexpensive. funny, no one says anything ever. not so funny when i try to get into a club at the end of the year with a legitimate id. i tried to study on the two hour boat trip out there, and on the one back. i took some notes for my englishes, so that's at least something minor i accomplished. it would have looked strange though. what kind of a 14 year old needs to study? it took us ages to even figure out what year i would have been born in.. but anyway, saw fishies, saw turtles, saw whales, we had two different snorkelling spots and some sick floatation devices. aww yeahhh, i'm manly. i think we watched louis theroux all night again. that and the mighty boosh documentary thing. and slamm called like a champion.
day #4 we woke up nice and early to go speed boatin' over the whitsundays. pretty much my favourite place we've been. it's the picturesque queensland you imagine when you think of an tropical island. unlike hamilton, which is homo. so we had our beachside times, and the water was beautiful, and everything about it was beautiful, and i love it, and i don't even like the beach that much. but i should go more often. i loved it when we went australia day so i should do that more often, i think. anyway, we only got an hour there, and then had to go back. some of the fam went walkin', but i stayed in to watch woody allen and 'study.' then dinner and some QI (YES. STEPHEN FRY. YES.) and most probably, more louis. then of course sammy and slamm called. awesome.
day #5 i was woken up even earlier. this time told, 'if you want to go on a helicopter, get dressed now, we're going.' which wasn't really enough notice for me, but whatever. i pulled on pants and a jumper and was off. changing top halves is for lame people. so me and the parents (and no one else, NERR) went in a helicopter, and it was a sweet ass view and there were even tricks at the end. and i recognise i've been writing this whole time like a five year old, but i don't care, george orwell says simplistic language is totally cool, so shut up. and then we landed because dad was all nauseous and being a big girl about it, and then the whole fam up and gathered all our stuff for check-out and sat around near the marina. and then we thought, LET'S GO TUBE-RIDIN'. and we did. we enjoyed it so much, we did it again. minus one, and plus a different one. we were advised, thumbs up means faster, thumbs down means faster, stop means faster, any screaming also means faster. the five of us kiddies went on first, me and kylie and vinnie in between, because v. doesn't trust the other two, and the other two on the other donut thing, and off we went. and it was amazing fun. although v was screaming slower, and i was doing the thumbs down on his behalf because he's a wuss and wouldn't let go of the handle. as soon as andrew came careening off the first time vincent decided to get off and hop onto the boat instead. anyway, we had almost gone the whole way, holding on tightly, not too wet, with only timmy and andrew falling, until timmy decides, hey, let's grab the girls' handle and pry hannah's fingers off, yeah, that's a good idea. and he did that, and off she fell, and wasn't it a lovely moment. but so fun. but he fell off too, said it was worth it. and so kylie was the winner who didn't fall off. and then we went again, but with dad instead of vin, and this time the guy told us that we could do whatever, commando style, guerrilla tactics, the whole bunch. so this time was hella dangerous. people hurtling all over the place, swappin' tubes whilst the boat was still driving, lots of pushing and shoving and sacrificing of yourself for the sake of making someone else fall off. great fun. and at the end everyone was off except myself. so i raised my arm in victory and came crashing off also. in conclusion, tube riding is the boss. so then we ate. and walked to the quad-bikes so vinnie could ride for free. we hung at the driving range instead. the fam discovered i was not atrocious at hitting golf balls. and then off the airport, and off to brisbane and back to sydney and all quite tired and woot.
and then back in sydney, i don't know if much happened. we went for an economics study day, we had some time in the city, we spent an evening with i love you man, paris j'taime and dorian gray (the last one is awful. just awful. colin firth was just so amazing, and dorian was so good looking that.. it was.. almost bearable..) and then there was surry hills and major photos. and i think the next day i watched a serious man by myself. it's quite depressing, just saying.
and then school went back, and my social life disappeared again. been librarying it to get my study on. have some days off school where i will spend a good 12 hours at the state library, i reckon. i know, pretty fun, right? but whatever, i saw a good friend for a short while one afternoon, and today we got chineses and illchayed.
so upcoming events seem quite lacking really, because there aren't many. there's some parties, a gig, BRMC!!/thelineforit!!!, maybe a hang, pancakes later, i suggest pizza sometime too, schoolies being organised but only one of those will be in the next few weeks because we're all going mental with study for trials. no fun. turns out i could go out tomorrow, but it looks like i need to study, and the fam might get up in my face when i and they get home.
this post got quite lengthy and boring. props if you read it. and if you didn't, well, why am i bothering to write to you?

if i can't finish an essay, i can at least finish this letters thing:
#17. A letter to a video game character
dear mario,
you wear red.
i would like to wear more red.
i almost bought red sexy underwear today.
yeah, i bet you like that.
i did buy a superbad shirt though,
i bet you don't have one.
you just have a stupid cart.
sucker.
sweet moustache though.
love hannah.

if you want it, you can have it.

2010-07-24T17:47:00.002+10:00

We're two parties,
Two parties ending

What if you move?
What if you hide?
There's only so much you can miss
Before we both collide

My little tornado
My little hurricano
Last day of magic
Where are you?
My little tornado
My little hurricano

We're two parties
Two parties ending

I'll be the man with the broom
If you'll be the guts of the room
And there's only so much you can hide
Before I corner you

Last day of magic
Where are you?
My little tornado
My little hurricano
Last day of magic
Coming through
The eye of the storm
And I hold on to
My little tornado
My little hurricano

I'll be the man with the broom
If you'll be the guts of the room
And there's only so much you can hide
Before I corner you

Last day of magic
Put a hole right through
The eye of the storm
In a single room
My little tornado
My little hurricano

Cavalry come, cavalry go, cavalry leave me alone

My little serenado
My little cococaino
Last day of magic
Where are you?
My little tornado
My little hurricano

my father is super wise. he knows how to be uplifting.
...'a bit of a wasted day really. but we waste our entire lives..'
yeah, we're all feeling pretty swell right now.
but y'know what? i need some perspective.
so here it is.
i am loved.
you are loved.
take it or leave it.

you, you just walked out, you just left us alone
i, i just held on, i've been holding on for so long
you, you think it's okay, you think it's okay to come around.
i, i just don't care, i just don't care anymore.
you, you were not there, you were not there for me.
i, i just moved on, i've been moving on for so long
you, you think it's okay, you think it's okay to come around.
i say i don't care even though it's not the truth.
you, you just walked out, you just left us alone.
i, i just don't care, i just don't care anymore.

i can't do anything.

2010-07-23T17:55:00.000+10:00

'A man may take to drink because he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts. ' - george orwell

...you worry me.
drink less.

you stole the sun from my heart.

2010-07-19T21:08:00.001+10:00

i've got to stop smiling, it gives the wrong impression.
i love you all the same.

stacks of green paper in his red right hand.

2010-07-19T18:35:00.001+10:00

I feel like a mime losing his job
But i'm just not sure, i'm just not sure
It's like i'm facing down the wrath of God
But i know i aint, i know i'm not
I've made all kinds of weird plans
That can't succeed, won't ever be
And i spend half my time feeling odd
But what do i know

I feel like a canary who's living underground
Singing through the gas
Still worried about my first big night
As the curtains fall, the roof collapses

Your acting's like the end of the world

And i see rows and rows of fresh ditches
What are they for? it don't make no sense
I need a palindrome to keep witches
And get rolling stoned and drop my defences
All this doom and gloom has got to me
It's taken me to lunch
I'm trying hard not to forget you
I can't take another punch

I get nostalgic thinking about you
Made me laugh until i cried
You were useful in a crisis
But it's harder now to lie

Your acting's like the end of the world

I ain't here to say i'm sorry
It wouldn't help you if i did
Your pain was just too great to bear
And i was just a kid
Well it would seem you're on your own now man
You're sitting at the breakfast table in a shirt
You've joined the chorus line of all those useless things
And wandering all the long while if you'll stay inert
If you'll stay alert

You should move out to the country man
And look after your health
These cities show you to your seat
And then they make you eat yourself

Your acting's like the end of the world

When she left she took much less of me than you
But what am i meant to do?
I try most nights to get you out of my mind
But you're still there silent by my side most the time
I can't help that i let you down
It's too long and too late
And i can't help if i broke your heart
It's too long and too late

it aint gonna rain anymore now that my baby's gone.

2010-07-16T11:59:00.001+10:00

I know you've heard it all before
But I'm sorry for this three year war
For the setting up of camps
and wire and trenches
I'm sorry for the other night
I know sorry it don't make it right
I'm sorry for things I can't even mention

I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm sitting feeling sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very sorry in the Thirsty Dog

You keep nailing me back into my box
I'm sorry I keep popping back up
With my crazy mouth
and jangling jester's cap
I'm sorry I ever wrote that book
I'm sorry for the way I look
But there ain't a lot that
I can do about that

I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm sitting feeling sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very sorry in the Thirsty Dog

I'm sorry about the hospital
Some things are unforgivable
That things simply cannot be forgiven
I was not equipped to know how to care
And on the occassions I came up for air
I saw my life and wondered
what the hell I had been living

I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm sitting feeling sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very very sorry in the Thirsty Dog

I'm sorry about all your friends
I hope they'll speak to me again
I said before I'd pay for all the damages
I'm sorry it's just rotten luck
I'm sorry I've forgotten how to fuck
It's just that I think my heart
and soul are kind of famished

I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm sitting feeling sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very sorry in the Thirsty Dog

Forgive me, baby but don't worry
Love is always having to
say you're sorry
And I am, from my head
down to my shoes
I'm sorry that I'm always pissed
I'm sorry that I exist
And when I look into your eyes
I can see you're sorry too

I'm sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm sitting feeling sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very sorry in the Thirsty Dog

I'm sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very thirsty in the Sorry Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very sorry in the Thirsty Dog

i paused in cosmic reflection, confused and wondering

2010-07-15T23:00:00.003+10:00

expect a bouzo's hamilton island, reestablishment of the letters, more lyrics post later.
maybe some classy photos.
for now though, i have fingerless gloves, and lots to look forward to. and a few new books to add to my cultured collection.
listening to interpol, loving it dearly.
this one is up there on my list.

Yours is the only version of my desertion that I could ever subscribe to
That is all that I can do
You are a past sinner, the last winner, I'm raping all around me
Until the last drop is behind you
But you're so cute when you're frustrated, dear
Yeah, you're so cute when you're sedated, oh dear

Sleep tight, grim rite, we have two hundred couches where you can...
Sleep tight, grim rite, we have two hundred couches where you can
Sleep tonight,
Sleep tonight,
Sleep tonight,
Sleep tonight.

You are the only person who's completely certain there's nothing here to be into
That is all that you can do
You are a past sinner, the last winner, and everything we've come to makes you you

But you cannot safely say that while I will be away, you will not consider sadly
How you helped me to stray
And you will not reach me I am resenting a position that's past resentment and now
I can't consider, and now there is this distance, so...

Sleep tight, grim rite, we have two hundred couches where you can...
Sleep tight, grim rite, we have two hundred couches where you can
Sleep tonight,
Sleep tonight,
Sleep tonight,
Sleep tonight.

trying to remember to remember to forget you forgot me.

2010-07-08T16:25:00.002+10:00

feeling good, feeling great, how are you?
watching beatles footage having just slept like a bitch in recovery mode from a good ol' big yesterday evening.
it was amazing. say cheers to tahren for me.
but then again, i'm a simple person. good food means a good day. gozleme and crust? weow.
and of course no liquor or anything naughty. of course not.
in conclusion, i like to laugh and wear men's shirts. thankyou.

anywho, this is yesterdays song, from playing early morning beatles rock band:
I'm looking through you, where did you go
I thought I knew you, what did I know
You don't look different, but you have changed
I'm looking through you, you're not the same

Your lips are moving, I cannot hear
Your voice is soothing, but the words aren't clear
You don't sound different, I've learned the game.
I'm looking through you, you're not the same

Why, tell me why, did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight

You're thinking of me, the same old way
You were above me, but not today
The only difference is you're down there
I'm looking through you, and you're nowhere

Why, tell me why, did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight

I'm looking through you, where did you go
I thought I knew you, what did I know
You don't look different, but you have changed
I'm looking through you, you're not the same

Yeah! Oh baby you changed!
Aah! I'm looking through you!
Yeah! I'm looking through you!
You changed, you changed, you changed!

day #16. A letter to your bed
dear bed,
can you do no wrong?
i never thought i could love someone as much as i love you
my own bed. for me.
nothing compares to you, to sleeping with you, to spending hours of my time with you
you're beautiful. so comfortable, so gorgeous.
you make everything wonderful
everything feels great. everything feels fantastic when i'm with you.
love hannah.

..also looks like i'm going to have to press pause on this one a day thing. going to hamilton island. should be pretty.

i would grab my shoes and then away i'd walk

2010-07-07T17:01:00.001+10:00

day #15. A letter to your crotch
dear _____
look, it's weird talking to you.
so i'm just going to say i'm sorry.
i'm sorry i like skinny jeans
and i'm sorry you aren't getting any.
okay?
cool.
let's leave it there.
love hannah

any person who uses 'girl power' in a sentence immediately loses all my respect

2010-07-06T13:41:00.002+10:00

day #14. A letter to a word you love
dear fondle,
i think you're a really super word
even if you can't be used often
i just think, boy, it makes people uncomfortable to hear that word.
and you're so minimalist and to the point.
who can mix up the meaning of fondle?
what a great piece of blatant innuendo is fondle?
wasn't that an oxymoron?
fail.
love hannah

rage against the sewing machine.

2010-07-05T14:53:00.002+10:00

day #13. A letter to a word you don’t like
dear facial,
not only are you a disgusting word to write, but what you are about is disgusting.
i i know, some girls are into that stuff.
but the idea of someone touching my face for an extended period of time makes me feel uncomfortable
let alone being that bored for that long a period of time.
bored and uncomfortable are not things i will pay to be.
and plus you are a shit word to write
and almost entirely u seless in most situations.
all you do is sit around all day like a bitch. i hate you.
no love for you, hannah.

wu-tang clan aint nothing to fuck with.

2010-07-04T15:04:00.003+10:00

day #12. A letter to a mythological creature
dear liger
(because you count as mythological because you're not real and are napoleon-folklore)
you're amazing and beautiful.
you're not my favourite animal, but you're pretty up there.
i would like a man in a liger bodysuit. whatsits said he'd do it. pretty sure he was joking. it's the thought that counts.
thankyou liger for being created. that was really nice.
i would like to see you again in something else.
maybe you could be written into the history books somehow.
it might take a little bit of subterfuge, but i reckon i could put it into the files in the whitehouse and everyone would think you existed foreverandever ago.
but i like you better in my imagination anyway.
love hannah

...i now have a pocket book of nietzsche. pretty thrilling way to spend an afternoon, i know.
didn't drink last night but i had a nice enough time anyway. new people, some interesting conversations.
can't help but love them peeps who put on accents.
or the ones who love you despite y'know failing at life.
sall good. sall good.
got some people i'd like to see. it's all pretty conflicting, but i don't care, it'll be well worth it.
'if my heart could write songs, they'd sound like these.'
<3 scrubs marathons in the mornings. and dido. :p

and now you're cutting a deal in your head

2010-07-03T12:13:00.002+10:00

conscience is crystal clear once again
you lock up the skeletons
and i changed my mind again
because what you see's never what you get
but i'll take my chances
and you come back around here again
and you know things now that you didn't know then
well i'll take my chances.

day #11. A letter to your last bowel movement
dear poo.
writing to you is weird.
honestly, i've got nothing to say.
love hannah.

...he's a prick. and you're his prickess.

2010-07-02T18:19:00.003+10:00

day #10. A letter to an alien race.
dear alien race,
please don't kill me.
just come over, we'll chill for a while.
get some pizza.
that would be nice.
you can give me a laser thing and i can laser bad people, and we'll be the best of friends.
we can make an alien-human wolfpack. it'll be hella badass.
yayay.
love hannah

so the school term's over.
it's time to get my drink on and go on holidays.
hamilton island clubs with my fam? being smuggled in? perhaps.
or we'll just chill indoors with tunes. or with the fishies outside.
PLUS iceskating and drinking and nothing illicit. ahem. no smoking either. i never smoke. shutup.
so yeah, got some people to see, people want to chill, it'll be interesting to compare who i should see, who wants to chill, with who i actually see. it's hard to make actual plans when you're a day before person. the only places i'm destined to show at are facebooke vents where i click attending, and even then i'll only figure out how to get to cumming avenue an hour or so beforehand.
salways on the back of my mind.
i hope we can chill tomorrow.
and i hope whatsits and i go somewhere like we say we will.
there's only a couple plans i really want to work out, and baby, you're one of them.
heh, i used to be your baby.
i like to scramble things up a little.
i need someone to delete my messages for me, it's getting a little ridiculous.
i didn't do any work today, i sat in classes doing not much and ate a bunch. slept a bunch. the back page of my economics book is now full of my wisdom.

wear some baby clothes.

2010-07-01T19:12:00.003+10:00

day #9. A letter to the coolest person you’ve (n)ever met
dear you,
you're pretty cool because you like the same stuff.
and you made me happy.
cheers.
it's hard to sit here and think of someone cooler, so i'm just going to go with it.
you're gosh darn fantastic.
no one could equal you.
not even me, and i'm pretty rad.
being distant is lame, but it could be fixed maybe if we were bothered.
it doesn't seem like we are.
but that's okay, because no one can erase their minds and memories and such.
unless they like get that thing from harry potter which allows you to
or they get sick.
but that wont happen, because you're too cool.
so every now and again there'll be illin'
and everything will be ay okay.
much love.
love hannah
xxx

i changed it because i couldn't decide between all the cool people i haven't met.
hsc sucks my will to live.
i'm going to have an astronaut party. you in?

the line is my song of the day. good morning, starshine.

I am the line, I hold you near,
There is no burden left to bear, I can see clear,
You're in suspension, you know no love,
There is no story left to tell, You have no wisdom to pass on,
I am the soul of absolution, No man can hurt his own illusion,
My hands are crippled from the pain, You are the splinter in my vein,
You put your head between your hands, and understand, Nothing it is,
I feel the answers keep you scared, I've put the harm inside myself.

I am the line, I hold you near,
There is no burden left to bear, I can see clear,
I am perfected, I know no void,
I have no conscience to keep clear, I understand there's nothing more,
You try to kid yourself with questions, Pleading in time for some correction,
I found you tied onto the cross, with judgement on your every thought,
You know my words all mean the same, you've buried here to isolate,
And in this prison in your mind, Well you were born without a spine.

When did you stop caring?
When did you stop caring?
Where did you stop caring?
Where did you stop caring?

All along,
I've been waiting on the open invitation,
Your silence shown me no relation,
In the rising calm,
Don't you feel alone,
I'll be standing with your sorrow,
Oh he's left me's gone away tomorow,
And we may never be here again,
We may never be here again.

Pull me up on either side,
Don't leave me standing alone in the light,
Pull me up on either side,
Don't leave me standing alone in the light.

All along,
I've been waiting on the open invitation,
Your silence shown me no relation,
In the rising calm,
Don't you feel alone,
I'll be standing with your sorrow,
Oh he's left me's gone away tomorow,
And we maynever be here again,
We may never be here again.

this version of you; more like somebody else, but not enough.

2010-06-30T16:27:00.000+10:00

day #8. A letter to a giant space robot
dear mr roboto,
i think you should come down from space one time and we can hang out.
we can jump on trampolines
and you can crush infidels.
and it'll be beautiful. and romantic.
and as the sunsets, you'll say, why that was a nice day.
and i'll say, why yes, yes it was.
and i'll be content with where we're heading.
love hannah.

i can't for the life of me figure out where i went wrong.

2010-06-29T16:26:00.002+10:00

day #7. A letter to a historical event
dear cuban missile crisis,
i don't get why you're such a big deal
or why the us take all the cred.
i like that russia were all leave cuba alone or we'll bomb you.
solidarity brother.
and you're all righteous, it's a quarantine, not a blockade, when really, what right do you have to be searching everyone else's stuff?
maybe they weren't missiles, maybe they were sharing russian hats.
why do you have to interfere like that?
and then call russia pussy bitches when they turn around.
maybe they didn't want you to see the ship was full of condoms or something.
you promised to leave them cubans alone. which was good, and made russia happy.
so they bailed.
why take the cred for that?
you were exploiting ANOTHER central american country and they got pissed off and said, fuck off and die, i'm communist now.
leave them be.
they have better healthcare than you.
fail.
to conclude, i would rather not write about you, cuban missile crisis.
because i don't think either of them had the balls to make it war ever.
seriously.
kaythanks,
love hannah.

when it's late, she's still talking about california.

2010-06-29T16:24:00.002+10:00

i now own a handbag. and a functioning wallet.
it's disconcerting. it seems wrong. i'm kinda worried about the change it means.
but it also means i can fit an entire big bag o' chips in a handbag. which impresses me, at least.

...Hey, I'm sorry I wasn't there
but I never lied it's a shame
That you don't believe I care
& neither do I

Baby you can take your time
& maybe tomorrow you can change your mind
I got my friends
I got a bottle of wine
& I'm feeling fine

I don't miss you now
I don't miss you at all

Time, it's pulling us different ways
It's starting to show I'm afraid
that you don't believe I'll stay
So I gotta go

Baby, you can take your time
& maybe tomorrow you can change your mind
I got some pills
I got a bottle of wine
& I'm feeling fine

I don't miss you now
I don't miss you at all

Baby, you can take your time
& maybe tomorrow if the sun don't shine
I'm gonna walk around until I find
Somebody to treat me
to treat me kind

You can take your time
You can change your mind
Change your mind

I don't miss you now
I don't miss you at all

i think someone owes us all an apology, yes, he does

2010-06-28T16:27:00.002+10:00

day #6. A HEARTFELT letter to some food
dear crust chicken peri peri pizza,
fuck you're beautiful.
i've never met someone quite like you.
i would marry you if i could.
but that would be odd
and i'd be socially ostracised.
i do love you though.
love hannah
xo

wanna die and cry and die again.

2010-06-28T00:07:00.002+10:00

can't sleep.
can't study, too tired.
i am sweeney todd.
i own sweet post-it notes.
and the coolest shirt known to mankind.
i should be happy and sleeping.
but instead i'm almost happy and almost sleeping.
which isn't fantastic at all.
i want crust pizza and holidays.
NAPNAPNAPNAP.
if we sleep together, i might like you better. if we come together; move it, now or never.

they want your head on a plate.

2010-06-27T15:13:00.001+10:00

day #5. A letter to a celebrity you want to kick in the face
dear celebrity,
grow some balls.
you need to get kicked in the face so you'll stop whining about your life.
oh wait, it'll make you whine more.
it's not my fault your voice hasn't broken yet.
quit having a stupid face.
love hannah.

woahwoahhwooooh

2010-06-26T17:49:00.002+10:00

saw toy story three today. it was amazing. LOVE toy story.
bought the ben sherman shirt i alawys wanted.
yes, i'm hannah story, i wear ben sherman shirts and sleep in till 12. YAYAY. LIVING THE DREAM.
ti's amazing, and will be worn as soon as possible. i love it dearly.
it was for hella cheap too. yayay me!

day no#4 A letter to someone you want to kick in the face expressing why you want to kick them in the face
dear dickface,
you should be kicked in the face because you have a dick on your face and that would hurt extra much.
for cereal, placing party blockades is for five year old pussy bitches who like to go for younger and younger models each time because it helps retain their youth.
it doesn't, you just look like a cunt.
your haircut is also stupid, and i didn't mean what i yelled at you.
or this letter, i think you're super.
but would like to kick you in the face, to add physical violence to the pains of my verbal barrage.
i love you to the moon and back, sister.
love hannah.
x

stop being on facebook and go somewhere.

2010-06-25T21:14:00.003+10:00

we like the same stuff and that makes me happy.
even if he's awkward times a billion.
he thought of me while listening to life on mars? yay?
...i could be out tonight, but i don't want to. it's complicated. she should want me there though, i am a 'regular.'

...last school carnival ever.
athletics. i got a bit into it.
went a bit overboard with my zombieness.
but it was well worth it for the pictures.
when a really great one from samm's camera surfaces, should be brilliant.
but for now, this will suffice. also an album on facebook.

yeah, i'm your graveyard queen.

he's a player

2010-06-25T13:14:00.001+10:00

day #3. a letter to a movie character
dear pete,
you're much prettier than your droogs.
i love you the most.
you have morals.
but i still love alex.
love hannah.

2010-06-24T20:22:00.003+10:00

i love you. i actually love you. and it's because i've gone ahead and idealised you, because it's been however long and i haven't filled the space yet. the void, the chasm, gaping, empty, etcetera, etcetera.
and you can try and fill it with pretty words, songs and photographs, with study, or even other people, but it's not the same.
because i don't love him. he's alright, yeah, someone to see every now and again, a bit of sparkle in an otherwise dull day, but beyond that, beyond that, i don't know him at all. i know he likes art. that's not really enough though, is it?
and you could find a multitude of replacements, but they wouldn't be the same as my mind's fabrication of you. so reality is obscured by this perception, and who you are has become entirely irrelevant.
from what i remember, i was happy.
are you happy? i don't think you are.
but i know you were. for a little while there.
it's scary. no one's happy, and we're all alone. even if we're together, we're alone.
i'm never talking to you again.
this is the end.

whatever you want, whatever you do, wherever you go, whatever you say.

2010-06-24T18:18:00.002+10:00

day #2: a letter to a dinosaur
dear dream dinosaur,
i think i know how you can be perfect.
you'll have a long long long neck. and a grinning little face. but you'll also have two big motherfuckin' legs to stand on and tiny arms. except they wont be tiny, they're actually extendable.
and that way you can munch munch munch on all your prey with your long arms and long neck
except you'd be crap at hide and seek.
love hannah.

they are night zombies.

2010-06-23T18:20:00.000+10:00

His father was a drinker
And his mother cried in bed
Folding John Wayne's T-shirts
When the swingset hit his head
The neighbors they adored him
For his humor and his conversation
Look underneath the house there
Find the few living things
Rotting fast in their sleep of the dead
Twenty-seven people, even more
They were boys with their cars, summer jobs
Oh my God

Are you one of them?

He dressed up like a clown for them
With his face paint white and red
And on his best behavior
In a dark room on the bed he kissed them all
He'd kill ten thousand people
With a sleight of his hand
Running far, running fast to the dead
He took of all their clothes for them
He put a cloth on their lips
Quiet hands, quiet kiss
On the mouth

And in my best behavior
I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards
For the secrets I have hid

.....i got my school photos back today.
looking sharp.

anger is all like, super awesome and stuff.

2010-06-23T16:16:00.002+10:00

today was my angry day.
i yelled at kids for being in my way.
multiple times
sometimes it feels good to be the eldest in the school.
anyway, here starts harry's day list thing he found on his dashboard.
go go go.

day #1: letter to an inanimate object you hate.
dear chair,
why do you have to be like this all the time?
how come you need four legs?
why do you have to be so codependent?
why couldn't you share the legs with someone else who needs legs?
that's selfish.
you're not even that comfortable, i don't get why everyone loves you so much.
i don't.
i hate you.
i think you're lame, and that you should be replaced by something more practical
like bean bags.
or grass.
love hannah.

this is the beginning of the end.

2010-06-16T20:34:00.003+10:00

i feel shit.
it's pretty awesome.
i don't like the word 'single.' maybe it's because i'm female, so if i stay single, it means i'll be that old spinster. a guy does, he's a 'bachelor.' oh, the connotations.
in other news, i have my math exam soon and i'm terrible at trig.
i also don't ever want to write about romanticism in the cenci again.
i think it'd be lovely to sleep for a week. and then wake up, and things would be cool, like the last time i was really really really really amazingly happy.
it's not happening though, because life keeps on whirring backwards.
what would you do if your biggest regret suddenly turned up on your doorstep? would you take the opportunity, or recognise that it's far too late to matter?
what if this is your last chance?
...i like the idea of there being an exit leading to the entrance. yeah, that's nice.

and my affection, well it comes and goes

2010-06-09T20:10:00.003+10:00

a few points to consider that i found in my draft messages
points meaning quotes i quite liked

gwen (fatty) harwood, poem: the sharpness of death
'a schoolgirl bring flowers, an artist accepting colour and crazy love'
poem: a valediction
'lou salome in her old age: "whether i kissed nietzsche on monte sacro i find i do not now remember."'

joachim fest on the end of wwii
'a wilful end terrifyingly inspired by hatred, a longing for destruction and romantic memories of wagner's operas'

i think they're quite poignant. not as poignant as the cenci, but that's my assessment, and i better get to that now.
also, wag the dog is quite good. but dustin hoffman can do no wrong.
i'm going to get cultured and watch plays this weekend. you're all quite jealous, i can tell. getting some pancakes too.
.. if only there was gozleme involved.

i'm not trying to sound.

2010-06-04T16:20:00.004+10:00

i love this weather.
even if woolwich is flooding, and the so-called covered learning area leaks like a bitch.. and not just a few leaks like the classrooms, i mean it was a shower.. it's still great.
you can't even see a hundred metres away from the school. usually you can start at the edge of the 'plaza' and look out and see say.. city skyscrapers and the river...today you couldn't. you could barely even see the wilderness stretching out beyond us as you approach said river.. it was wonderful.
fog is fun.
and so is putting your chin in your scarf and casting your eyes down as you head down the street, no umbrella, with wet hair and no inhibitions. and the little gutter rivers beside.
yeah, she crazy.
...but not as crazy as the blazer monster, who wears the blazer backwards and over their heads and flails wildly. except your arms aren't fully in the armholes so it's fabric flailing wildly.

in other news, i love the idea of conflicting perspectives. that sounds so nerdy but.. truth is perception; and reality is fabricated. sucked in.

feeling very sick and ill today.

2010-05-28T10:35:00.002+10:00

but i'm still fond of you.
woah.
so what difference does it make?
it makes none.
but, now you have gone
and your prejudice wont keep me warm tonight.

...last athletics carnival is next month. zombie wedding. should be AWESOME.
went to school 2/5 days this week. ill on the first two, didn't miss much, and today is enrichment day. i can't watch the mind map video again, so i'm going to study here like a gun, who wants to keep her ranking in religion. and improve english's. not that's it's bad, it's just not 1.
:p
i let myself have an hour after i wake up to chill. it feels good.
and so it begins.

no. 150.

2010-05-26T20:10:00.003+10:00

holy shit.
anyway, someone needs to donate some more nick cave to me. either through usb or burnin' discs, or borrowin' discs, or emailz, or giftage (that would be super nice)
in other news, i finally went back to school, and would like to make the point that i actually love this weather.
i don't know if there's a better feeling that when you're making an angst face with an umbrella barely a centimetre above your head as you skulk on down the street, quaking under the force of a sudden downpour. and not just a little one, a huge torrent, and the sky is bleak, and the gutters are overflowing, with water charging down the sides of the street like tiny rivers.
yeah, it was amazing.

you know you fail when..

2010-05-24T22:23:00.002+10:00

fall into you is all i ever do when i hit the bottle because i'm afraid to be alone.
tear us in two is all it's going to do, as the headache fades, this house is no longer a home.
don't give up on the dream, don't give up on the wanting, and everything that's true.
don't give up on the dream, don't give up on the wanting, because i want you too.

there's 200 stickers next to me. i need to use them.

2010-05-23T13:26:00.003+10:00

in other news..
three things.
1. walking down the aisle to nick cave, no one can stop me.
2. jumping castle either at 18th or 21st. it has to happen.
3. knight fantasies are sexy. whut? no, that was someone else.

when i offer you survival, you say it's hard enough to live.

2010-05-23T09:36:00.003+10:00

...it's not so bad.
how do you know that you're right?

thankyou so much guises.
that was really really nice and i needed that.
much love.
x.

punk just like heaven is stuck in my head

2010-05-15T21:24:00.003+10:00

and i just watched slacker.
apparently, the inspiration for clerks.
sweet movie. it opens how it continues, fragmented, a bit weird, offering strange satirical insights into gen x, etc. etc.
anywho, i enjoyed it, watch it while you're awake and feeling arthouse.
you know, what with it lacking plot, character development, and towards the end suddenly deciding to change cameras for a while just for fun.
now i just want to watch clerks, then mallrats, then.. something. chasing amy? maybz.

" I've had a total recalibration of my mind, you know. I mean, it's like, I've been banging my head against this 19th century type, um, what? Thought mode? Construct? Human construct? Well, the wall doesn't exist. It's not there, you know. I mean, they tell you, look for the light at the end of the tunnel. Well, there is no tunnel. There's just no structure. The underlying order is chaos."

....your life will be one neverending 'hope you're feeling better.'

so many skills that make her distinctive.

2010-05-10T22:38:00.001+10:00

i hate that it takes a major tragedy for people to care about one another.
it takes prompting for someone to make a thoughtful, selfless gesture. sometimes i think gestures should be thoughtless, impromptu, spontaneous. but of course, i, like everyone is soon faced with a moment where it is necessary to think up a gesture- maybe a bunch of flowers or a vaguely meaningful message.
i can honestly say i had a wonderful weekend, and for that i'm truly lucky. i can't complain when i do have those lovely people around who, just through their company, manage to keep me happy.
oftentimes this doesn't seem like enough, but perhaps, instead of whining, it may be necessary to ackowledge this and their presence in the deep recesses of my memory.
i love you.
thankyou.

i'd like to return your permission slip.

2010-05-05T17:20:00.002+10:00

i do not enjoy being harrassed on formspring.
i do enjoy being amused on formspring.
sif anyone's bored enough to go on there and make mean comments. that's a little sad.
www.formspring.me/storysays

fat niggers take fat bitches.

2010-05-04T19:56:00.002+10:00

...should i keep drinking at this rate?
no.
will i keep drinking at this rate?
why, yes.

saturday's list, to make a yummy tummy cocktail, which ended up all red and chunky.
-orange breezer, yum, rummy.
-vodka and coke. x a number i can't quite remember.
-watermelon breezer, rum, yummy.
-beer. x whatever luke gave me.
-nick's vodka shotsshotsshotsshotsshots.
-mikey's whiskey shotsshotsshotshotshots taste like ass, like scotch ass.
-adrian's malibu for coconut goodness.

...intersperse the vodka and coke no. with all this list. it's not actually in order anymore. and then smoking and no food makes hannah a dull girl.
no, she was actually pretty alright in the morning.

in other news, bunny and the bull is so super duper fantastic.

hadn't been to newtown dendy since ponyo, so it was pretty gosh darn exciting.
'ill'd a little before and after. more new people whee.
every week more new people. more alcomahol. more antics.
no follow-ups.
but anyway, bunny and the bull was actually beautiful. not just witty and funny, not just attractive, but beautiful. well-written, it has the story thing down, the cinematography down, the music down, the mighty boosh-esque animations down. might have been the paul king thing though.
anyway, pretty sure richard ayoade talking about shoes made that movie.
got to be honest, it had less of him, noel fielding and julian barratt than i would have liked, but you can't have anything.
edward hogg? was pretty great as a substitute. he was adorable. and pathetic. and i like that.
it's like if vicky cristina barcelona was about eccentric loners, and if woody allen had been high the whole time he made it.
yeah, just like that.
amazing movie.
also finally reading the cenci, amazing play. it's all pretty verse and so much angst.
better yet is keats.
la belle dame sans merci by keats, about keats, the poor little bedridden fellow, being a knight and imagining a lady friend.
it's so adorable and pathetic.
god i love keats.
I.

O WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has wither’d from the lake,
And no birds sing.

II.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms! 5
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel’s granary is full,
And the harvest’s done.

III.

I see a lily on thy brow
With anguish moist and fever dew, 10
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

IV.

I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful—a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light, 15
And her eyes were wild.

V.

I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She look’d at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan. 20

VI.

I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
A faery’s song.

VII.

She found me roots of relish sweet, 25
And honey wild, and manna dew,
And sure in language strange she said—
“I love thee true.”

VIII.

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept, and sigh’d fill sore, 30
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.

IX.

And there she lulled me asleep,
And there I dream’d—Ah! woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dream’d 35
On the cold hill’s side.

X.

I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried—“La Belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!” 40

XI.

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill’s side.

XII.

And this is why I sojourn here, 45
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither’d from the lake,
And no birds sing.

so apart from not doing schoolwork and wanting to purchase every penguin classic i can, not much is happening. essays and stuff are piling up. i'm pretty tired all the time. gossip girl is about to start, and because my mind is busy being stressed, it can't really make sense of what's going on. so i've chosen to laugh.
yeah take that angst, bet you didn't see that coming.
shit's unna go down. or maybe it wont and it'll just be silent like always.
but shit's still there.
but i do have grandma's easter bunny for company.
because hey, we had a family thing and she brought those with her.
i stayed for an hour and then went to the movies.
good afternoon.

go to the grocery store, buy some new friends..

2010-04-28T18:23:00.003+10:00

it's been two weeks.
life's moving pretty slow to be honest.
plenty of parties though. a good five weeks. hopefully more.
probably shouldn't be drinking as much as i have, but there's people around who look after me. met some classy people too. did some silly things.
school is death.
the whole thing has just solidified in front of me. most people aren't freaking out about the timetable going up tomorrow, but now i have to recognise that hsc isn't some far off thing all the way in november.
i get dates and times.
it's scary, like zombie strippers.
going to go out and buy some gifts. i know no one ever really enjoys my gifts that much, but i sort of try.
i would say more, but prying into all my shit doesn't seem like that much fun right now.
playing old modest mouse. it's good stuff, more garage.
and you know, sonic youth, eyelinerrr.
panty lies.
don't know why i think about saturday when that comes up, but hey, it was a good night, you did a bad thing.
the bunny and the bull is out tomorrow. i think we're going friday night, should be super classy.
i should save money and go on holiday, but right now i have some books to analyse.
it's hard to write evenly when one book is 150 pages, and the other is 400. fail.
i'm also trying to write again. absolutely determined to go to uts. good luck me.
it'd be nice if you tried to speak to me every now and again, but whatever, i'll see you soon.

oh right, yeah, after saturday and yesterday i'm now queen of the raunch. i accept this title gladly, but apologise for any skanky behaviour. it's the alcomahol.

throw my spirit away.

2010-04-14T18:56:00.003+10:00

in other news, tomorrow i'm buying mojo.
why?
full page articles and pictures about captain beefheart, and better better better yet, syd barrett. lots of pictures. all going shiny on my wall.
yay. life!
and if anyone's interested, twisted has giant posters in it. incl. mastodon, and so on. yeah, so if any of youse mastodon's bitches looks at this, go buy it and put it on your walls. i wont but, only because i'm wasting all my dosh on syd.

i should be grumpier than i am, but really, eh, people are funnnn.

INFP.

2010-04-14T14:21:00.003+10:00

bloody tabitha.
made me want to do a personality test.
so here we are.
careers tells me i should be involved in culture, entertainment or organisation.
this says i'm a 'healer.'
...now i wish i had super powers.
running around.. 'HURT FEELINGS, TAKE THAT.' and then you know, a beam of light comes out of my hand, and POW! you're happy.
i could be the girl that bakes the cake out of sunshine and rainbows. yeah, mean girls on monday.
i remember this game that came out when mean girls did. and you had to organise the outfits for the week, following the plastics' rules. i was super great at it, even without being fashionable myself.
anywho, descriptions.. IDEALIST!

Healers present a calm and serene face to the world, and can seem shy, even distant around others. But inside they're anything but serene, having a capacity for personal caring rarely found in the other types. Healers care deeply about the inner life of a few special persons, or about a favorite cause in the world at large. And their great passion is to heal the conflicts that trouble individuals, or that divide groups, and thus to bring wholeness, or health, to themselves, their loved ones, and their community.
Healers have a profound sense of idealism that comes from a strong personal sense of right and wrong. They conceive of the world as an ethical, honorable place, full of wondrous possibilities and potential goods. In fact, to understand Healers, we must understand that their deep commitment to the positive and the good is almost boundless and selfless, inspiring them to make extraordinary sacrifices for someone or something they believe in. Set off from the rest of humanity by their privacy and scarcity (around one percent of the population), Healers can feel even more isolated in the purity of their idealism.

Also, Healers might well feel a sense of separation because of their often misunderstood childhood. Healers live a fantasy-filled childhood-they are the prince or princess of fairy tales-an attitude which, sadly, is frowned upon, or even punished, by many parents. With parents who want them to get their head out of the clouds, Healers begin to believe they are bad to be so fanciful, so dreamy, and can come to see themselves as ugly ducklings. In truth, they are quite OK just as they are, only different from most others-swans reared in a family of ducks.

At work, Healers are adaptable, welcome new ideas and new information, are patient with complicated situations, but impatient with routine details. Healers are keenly aware of people and their feelings, and relate well with most others. Because of their deep-seated reserve, however, they can work quite happily alone. When making decisions, Healers follow their heart not their head, which means they can make errors of fact, but seldom of feeling. They have a natural interest in scholarly activities and demonstrate, like the other Idealists, a remarkable facility with language. They have a gift for interpreting stories, as well as for creating them, and thus often write in lyric, poetic fashion. Frequently they hear a call to go forth into the world and help others, a call they seem ready to answer, even if they must sacrifice their own comfort.

Princess Diana, Richard Gere, Audrey Hephurn, Albert Schweiter, George Orwell, Karen Armstrong, Aldous Huxley, Mia Farrow, and Isabel Meyers are examples of a Healer Idealists.

JEALOUS MUCH? audrey hepburn and george orwell? score. it's also pushing the write and teach thing, which i've been saying forever, dawg.
it's kind of scaring me how much these personality profiles sometimes remind me of me. i feel weird.

want to flirt with models in swimsuits.

2010-04-08T14:33:00.001+10:00

i bought my slip.
and i went to the ortho.
braces off in six weeks.
yay. yay. yay. yay. yay.
yay.
yay.
yay.
i would write an acrostic poem in its honour, but i would rather nap before work. yayayay.

lulzorz

2010-04-07T23:23:00.000+10:00

todaytodaytoday

2010-04-07T20:49:00.002+10:00

i got lost in kings cross and didn't go to the art exhibit i wanted to. it may not have been on. i feel misled.
but i did buy a pretty vintage dress. it's amazing. i'm going to wear it always.
photos may emerge after saturday.
and todaytodaytoday, we went to a gallery in the rocks, all some guy, drawing horsies, religious figures, political leaders, and naked chicks. he was actually really good. but it'd be weird if i spent six grand on naked chick sketches. even if i want to. it was amazing.
we also sat in the grass and chilled. got some icecream. maccas. lots of walking and trains and 'illin.'
yaylife.

but there was a scary woman on the train. giving me dirties. and chanting religiously, and it made me nervous. i'm scared of everything.

'i want to be leather trash.'

2010-04-06T23:58:00.002+10:00

apparently, i'm 'intimidatingly hawt.'

it's okay, it's alright, nothing's wrong.

2010-04-05T13:03:00.004+10:00

tell mr. man with impossible plans to just leave me alone.

WEIRD CHANGE IN SONG.

dear, I fear we're facing a problem
you love me no longer, I know
and maybe there is nothing that I can do
to make you do

mama tells me I shouldn't bother
that I ought to stick to another man
a man that surely deserves me
but I think you do!

so I cry, I pray and I beg

love me love me
say that you love me
fool me fool me
go on and fool me
love me love me
pretend that you love me
leave me leave me
just say that you need me
love me love me
say that you love me
leave me leave me
just say that you need me
i can't care 'bout anything but you...

lately I have desperately pondered,
spent my nights awake and I wonder
what I could have done in another way
to make you stay
reason will not lead to solution
i will end up lost in confusion
i don't care if you really care
as long as you don't go.

the cardigans were pathetic.
i like that.

you've got nothing to worry about.

2010-04-04T23:43:00.001+10:00

the entire peter, bjorn and john discography?
why not?

...i haven't been this excited in fo'eva.

2010-04-04T16:09:00.002+10:00

i need to buy alice in zombieland right about now.
pride and prejudice and zombies i still haven't bought and want to.
now i've read the legit version, it should be amazing.
the movie is out next year.
with natalie portman.
and she's amazing.
no keira knightley, but still gorgeous.
one day, i'll be keira knightley.

whore off!

2010-04-04T13:24:00.003+10:00

one day, when zombies rule the world, i'll have john lennon as my zombie boyfriend.
and then he'll make me into a zombie.
and it'll be awesome.

...george is way out of my league.

insert crazed christian rant here.

2010-04-04T10:43:00.002+10:00

we should probably start out with a clear statement of fact- i am a catholic.
i know, big call, right? i'm an almost non-practicing catholic, been baptised, i pretty much like what they mean, but don't necessarily believe some parts, etc. etc. new age picking and choosing.
so, based on the fact that she's a christmas-easter christian, who knows she ought to go more often, but doesn't, logically, she ought to be inside a church right now.
but she isn't.
which is sort of sad.
i would like to go- generally, i enjoy the family gathered towards the back muttering to each other at irregular intervals about the way church is today, and what's with all that singing? but of course, that didn't happen today.
we were a couple minutes late. it took a long time to find parking, the primary school was full of poor christians who only attend church twice on the liturgical calendar. it's common. but there were more people than that. who knows why? less church times, perhaps, more uncertainty, nevertheless, there were too many people. the back of the church was full of people, standing, inside. behind that, behind the church, out in the sunlight, were people standing. around the sides of teh church, near the side door, were people standing. and it would seem lovely, all these people coming in a public declaration of what can be termed 'loose faith,' but really, it wasn't. for you couldn't hear a thing, except the murmurings of people with no interest, no real spirituality, only guilty consciences and tired eyes. we moved around the side so perhaps we could hear some gospel, some homily, some true indication of christianity's relevance to our daily lives. you couldn't hear it. all you could hear was the people behind discussing, 'my bitch hairdresser' how she has 'split ends' when she straightens it. and the rain started to sprinkle down, and her foundation started to run, and you wondered why they'd even bothered to show up at all.
the rain poured harder, so we left.
why?
because the entire thing was ridiculous. when you're being battered by rain and can't hear inside, surrounded by others who can't hear, and are being battered by rain, it seems unnecessary. like some truer declaration could be made, without the pride of having touched a church wall on easter.
i would say that i'll go with my father every week, but honestly, i wont.
i would say that he would, but, he probably wont either.
instead there's always that tiny resolve you have to be nicer and whatnot, because really, the entire thing is just attempting to get everyone to be nicer.
that and to stick it to them pharisees. bastards.
and sadducees. they weren't cool either.
i'm pretty tired. will gorge myself on chocolate now, because my mother decided against dieting on easter. thank god.

samm took model shots.

2010-04-03T13:00:00.002+11:00

they're quite nice. i might put more up sometime. on facebook.
but now i have blisters on the bottom of my feet, and it's owiez.
in other news, i've already bailed on two sets of plans this holidays because of others, and other things are springing up.
it should be lovely. right now though, i could just use sleep and a pick-me-up.

when we were lovers
we were kissers
we were holders of hands
we were make believers
just losing time
and you said you'd rather live in tv land
than say that you care but you don't
that's heartless and i will not try
but i'm still in love
your dreams of acting on screen
what do they mean ?
you'll be dancing senseless in your bedroom
and you find yourself out of a job
and before too long you'll be selling lemonade
to the overpaid
and i'm still in love
i remember it was summer
i was out of my head but you weren't
you're selfish and a waste of space
but i'm still in love

damn, youse a crazy bitchhh.

2010-04-01T14:16:00.003+11:00

possibly more shindigs.
yes!

in other news, lou asked me to tell her another story.
this one is inspired by the kittens i found yesterday morning.
first, find the kittens, then zoom in, to see how adorable they were.

because yesterday was super, with kittens, and chocolate, and mr. darcy, and colin firth, and pwning eco games, and the promise of a muffin basket.

when i was eight i wanted to be a scriptwriter. how funny.

once upon a time there was a dragon, and it grew out of a pot. you'd think dragons were born from eggs, but they're not, they grow, like plants, in pots. not naturally, you have to plant it and cater for it with you know, watering cans and sunshine and love, and one day you'll have your very own tiny dragon. anywho, this dragon was just illin' one time, when the person who cared so much for it, and spent so much time growing it, realised it was a complete waste of time, and that maybe, having a fire-breathing dragon in the house is a safety hazard, and although it was harmless inside the pot, now it was roaming the house and singing the wallpaper, it may not have been the bestest decision. so they picked him up, and put him in the bushes outside, for someone else to find. no one found him because he hid amazingly well, but he did like to set fire to things, and fire started sprouting up all over the neighbourhood because of some bitch's negligence.
the end.

don't abandon this here.

2010-04-01T14:12:00.002+11:00

...i'm topping religion.
and top six in everything else. higher mostly.
pretty solid, i think, providing six girls from the year get in the 90s, i should be one of them. woot. 91 here i come.
i should stop listening to industrial, but fuck it, everyones loves alec empire and nine inch nails, right? right right right.

she shines in a world full of ugliness
she matters when everything is meaningless

fragile
she doesn't see her beauty, she tries to get away
sometimes it's just that nothing seems worth saving
i can't watch her slip away

i won't let you fall apart

she reads the minds of all the people as they pass her by
hoping someone can see
if i could fix myself i'd-
but it's too late for me

i wont let you fall apart

we'll find the perfect place to go where we can run and hide
i'll build a wall and we can keep them on the other side
...but they keep waiting
...and picking...

it's something i have to do
i was there, too
before everything else
i was like you

she's a mad bitch.

2010-03-30T17:52:00.001+11:00

i kind of like what i'm doing now. finding critical essays is so my thing.
chilling to t-rex and reading essays that support what i believe.
about wuthering heights anyway. nelly dean was an evil old witch who ruined everything by eavesdropping, omitting, pretty much controlling the entire outcome of the novel.
she also burnt cathy's love letters, which isn't nice at all.

cute this guy, james hafley: 'the one fact upon which my thesis rests can be simply enough stated: ellen dean is the villain of the piece, one of the consummate villains in English literature.'

she's the housekeeper- and a mad bitch.

'love is really liking someone a whole lot and not wanting to screw that up'

2010-03-29T20:51:00.006+11:00

chillin' to the fall's industrial estate.
i could be writing essays, but my brother is doing an assignment on good compy, and i like to type those.
so.. fuck that shit.
here's daniel handler instead.
i don't know if i've mentioned that it's my favourite book ever.
i'll repeat.
the wisdom..
'this is the thing when love starts, both people pretending something that will make it happen, the lies all luscious and wet with lonely hope'
in other news, i stopped bitching about the holidays. sure there are four essays, three of which matter. sure, i have alot of people i need to see, and no time at all. but at least i get out of work for a week. and although i don't want to go, trips down to the beach to see grandmother are always lovely.
and next holidays i'll go to hamilton island.
oh and there's three shindigs to look forward to. maybe four. house parties make me happy.

fay weldon says don't be a writer.

2010-03-28T21:06:00.002+11:00

i say, fuck you fay weldon, you can't tell me what to do with my life.
hence, this..

once upon a time, there was this guy, and he was buff, but he wore shirts that glittered, so he was really rad. and one morning, he got up, and thought, what will i do with myself? so he put his hiking boots on, and they had rhinestones, and he decided he was going to climb the eiffel tower. he didn't realise it had stairs. so he got, maybe, a sixteenth of the way up, and then he fell. but it was day time, so all his glitter and rhinestones were reflective, and they dazzled peoples eyes. so they couldn't see his glittery body fall, and he kicked with his satiny legs, and didn't scream, because he's too buff to scream. and people couldnt see him, because it made their eyes hurt, and so he fell to a bloody bloody death. but at least he died wearing glitter.
the end.

aversion is bitchin.'

2010-03-28T15:57:00.003+11:00

...don't touch the lobsters, and away we go.

CLAP YOUR HANDS
but i feel so lonely.
CLAP YOUR HANDS
but it wont do nothing.
CLAP YOUR HANDS
but i have no money.
CLAP YOUR HANDS
but it don't seem likely.
CLAP YOUR HANDS
are you up to something?
CLAP YOUR HANDS
with my milk and honey?
CLAP YOUR HANDS
but i just look funny.
CLAP YOUR HANDS
i'll just wait a while.

...i don't like economics.
but i like the little prince.
i'll reread that after i'm done with adverbs. because they're so pretty and stuff.

but i feel so lonelyyy

2010-03-27T22:14:00.001+11:00

at times like these, at least i have clap your hands say yeah
and black books.

god, i could use a chat.
call me maybe so i can vent and we can not talk about stuff that's shit?

and you can't have her.

2010-03-27T15:21:00.001+11:00

...she's not so special, so look what you've done, boy.

tyler durden is hot.

2010-03-27T13:44:00.002+11:00

...he also isn't real.
this is all too much.
i'm so incredibly annoyed.
because of everything.
so fuck you. and you. and DEFINITELY you.
because you couldn't even just you know, limit yourself to only a couple weeks of miserable, you had to stretch it out some more. gee, this is fun.
and the other one deserves to have a cigarette stubbed out on her smug little face.
and the other is just stupid.

dead weight?

2010-03-26T17:31:00.001+11:00

and when it's over, we'll be holding one another.
we only ever wanted to feel real.

and don't it sound sweet?

2010-03-26T15:45:00.001+11:00

i love tim rogers.
the end.

we took the bus home.

2010-03-26T15:12:00.006+11:00

skins made me love crystal castles.
all sid's angst was belted out by alice glass in alice practice.
they're a little bit amazing.

..."the kind of music that you just want to follow like a cult, or hate, with every fibre of your being"
..."ferocious, asphyxiating sheets of warped two-dimensional gameboy glitches and bruising drum bombast pierce skull with sheer shrill force, burrowing deep into the brain like a fever"

birdiebirdiebirdie

2010-03-26T13:06:00.003+11:00

it's scary.
i want to press stop.
and just chill for a while.
but time keeps going. it keeps advancing. we keep moving towards this point we don't want to get to. it never stops. and i just want to stop and not get to that point, because it scares me.
next term is going to be death.
heck, even the holidays is going to be death.
i can't really handle it.
and it's depressing.
i saw this bird today. it was on the road, struggling. and you know, you can identify with it. it couldn't fly. it was just flapping its wings and rolling around the place, exerting all this effort to no avail, it couldn't fly. it was inevitable, it was over. and these two minor birds are staring. one decides, this is dull, flies away, and the other just stares in fascination at this bird's destruction, at its failings, its struggling and the bird is doing nothing.
i had to walk away. it was upsetting.
steph caught up to me. told me about the bird on the road without a head. it wasn't moving, and the minor bird looked like it wanted to feed.
i felt sick.
...my poor decapitated birdie.
it was a fun way to start the dayyy.

how awful that must feel.

2010-03-26T07:52:00.001+11:00

because if you don't then this book's all lies
if you don't, then my plans will all be ruined
if you don't, i'll start drinking like the way i drank before
and i just wont have a future anymore.

i have no proof, but i think that i'm right.

2010-03-25T21:05:00.003+11:00

i feel amazing.
and i really shouldn't.
but fuck you, i'm beautiful.
and the band WILL happen again. and we will be amazing. and play sleater-kinney, because wailing like them makes me happy.
yes. all girl bands suck.
but they're a little amazing.
one beat. jumpers. and entertain.
are all amazing. these are chicks who can, amazingly enough, play guitar, and not music that's entirely feminine and manufactured. it makes me glad to be alive. and female.
unlike fay weldon, who makes me want to top myself. feminist psycho.
so, to counter that, and because i saw someone else quote it, i started reading one of my favourite books again.
i don't know if i've spoken about the gorgeousness of adverbs before. even if i have, i'll reiterate.
many short stories about the expression, formation, meaning, whatever, of love. with a different adverb, describing the type of love, for the title of each chapter/story.
and you can't help but be happy when you read about that.
just like reading about the intense passion in wuthering heights, reading about a man's immediate admiration of his volcano (his etna, his vesuvius, so on and so forth) is so gorgeous, even as he describes the love he just left behind.
it's interesting, the way critics speak of lockwood as being a fickle lover, one who ran from commitment. moreso than that, is of course this man, with no explanation lying to his girlfriend of three years for he had decided it was over, getting in a cab, and falling for the driver. and the emotion wells over and is described and i feel kind of lucky daniel handler is that much of a genius that i get to read it.
read it. it isn't dull. it isn't some love story. there's the good and the bad and the sexual and all these manifestations, each gorgeous. it made me cry when i first read it.
and since then, i read little passages over and over again.
but now i'll read it the whole way through.
and i'll adore it again.
it's hard to take that kind of adoration back. i wont reconsider.

i might disintegrate into thin air, if you like.

2010-03-22T21:04:00.002+11:00

i don't want you to be alone down there.
so i'm down there with you.
and you're stuck with me.

will only be a friend if he touches your breast

2010-03-20T22:50:00.003+11:00

i have to write another blog.
i can't contain myself.

i have truly fallen in love. with what you may ask?
the idea of tropic of cancer by henry miller.
i'm a literature nerd.
i fucking love this shit. i eat it up.
i get a thrill out of beckett and orwell saying they like a novel.
i get a bigger thrill reading it myself and being in awe of the language.
..and a feminist paying it out, and a reference to it in seinfeld makes it perfect in my mind.
best excerpt ever?
"yes, he knows how to build a fire, but i know how to inflame a cunt. i shoot hot bolts into you, tania."
there are court cases about banning this novel for pretty much being porn.
france in the 1930s. by some american. who liked to graphically describe sex. but also his maturation as a human being.
pennsylvania supreme court justice michael musmanno-> "not a book. it is a cesspool, an open sewer, a pit of putrefaction, a slimy gathering of all that is rotten in the debris of human depravity."
knox book fair list...
search for MILLER.
search for NIETZCHE.
search for BECKETT.
search for CAMUS.
yes. she's read the last three, but she wants to own them.

in other news, daria is on dvd in may.
and david o'doherty is giggin' then. so hugh is taking me. $27 at the metro.
it will be awesome.

he and his keyboard give me endless thrills.
he's like a better demetri martin.
but does not equal dylan moran. unfortunately.
but a film with me in it required both of their efforts.

also, for reverend green- animal collective.
played over and over and over and over and over and over.
and then modern romance- yeah yeah yeahs.
and then it's oh so quiet- bjork.
just to change up the tempo a bit.
and then back to the mollusk- ween.

oh...wow.

2010-03-20T21:21:00.003+11:00

i know i'm posting alot.
but fuck it.
i should be studying. i know.
why do i know?
because i now need a higher mark. to go to a lesser uni. but do something that would please my english teachers and me.
so instead of the i'm going to teach english/history, yay! sydney uni! route (yeah, highly likely i'll end up there anyway, because i'm shit, so, i'll be lucky to get the 84for that)
i'm thinking i should go the uts communications (writing and cultural studies) route, because it would make me incredibly happy. 91.
more than the journalism one, which is a higher mark and means current affairs. and i don't care much about them.

..i wont get 91.
oh well.

when worst comes to worst, there's still julian casablancas.

and if you haven't, which you should have, watch the video.
sure i hate the other guy, i'm just like that, but those fingerless gloves and him smashing vases makes me happy.

all the demographics were represented.

2010-03-20T17:48:00.003+11:00

despite the angst of the past forty-eight hours, today is a beautiful day.
you know those times when you can't help but be smiley and in awe of everything, just because? at this exact moment there's all the wrongs and there's all the minor disappointments, but instead of that, you're busy grinning because you saw a butterfly.
that's today.
the sky is blue.
and i saw many butterflies.
and they're so magnificent. just watch them land and flutter about, flittering between the trees. it's wonderful. 'more carefree than alice had ever been.'
and i love those houses where on either side of the path are bushes and trees and they form a roof over your head. and the houses are completely obscured from view, and you could be anywhere.
and the house next door to that one has a spiderweb stretching from the gate to a telegraph pole and it's beautiful. it's intricate and it's splendid and you wonder how something had the resolution to reach so far and be motivated to make such delicate patterns.
unfortunately, they're vulnerable. the spiderwebs are torn and no one takes the time to view them in the dim light as the sun sets earlier and earlier and earlier and earlier.

...the house next to mine is up for sale. it's all small and quaint. pretty. a few bedrooms. it'll be interesting to see new neighbours. no more small children playing violin early in the morning.

but i'm never talking to you again.

2010-03-20T11:41:00.002+11:00

fuck you, fat bitch.

..nah.. i love everyone. all the time.
old stuff is coming back to haunt me.
awesome.

i read wuthering heights, motherfucker.

2010-03-18T19:37:00.002+11:00

trying to decide if i want to see new plan nine from outer space.
i love the old one, but really, only for how completely terrible it is. it is the worst movie evarr, and should be gratified.
this however?
iunno, it actually looks like it might legitimately freak me out.
which is no fun.
it's no models of UFOs on strings.
and that's pretty lame.

....night of the living dead is fucking awesome though.
lara's making me watch them all.
so, it's on. whoever wants to chill with me with NIGHT OF movies, is oh so welcome.
yay. romero.

i'd let johnny turn me into a zombie.

take your skin off when you're talking to me.

2010-03-07T11:19:00.004+11:00

second math study song:
black math.
then, new math.
then, never ending math equation.
that never really ever even really has any end.
...that's like my study.
i found notes i wrote. bonus.
applying them is hannah's goal.
fail.

....i don't know if i'll be able to find any modern history songs.
maybe just play history repeating on repeat?
yeah. maybe.
religion should be easy for study songs. extension not so much.
i didn't bother picking the tunes for economics and advanced. they're long gone.

but, this whole exam thing does have a bonus side.
the extended fam are here tonight. and i'm going to be 'studying.' ie. reading wuthering heights or illin' in my room. yeah. take that.
and now, because procrastination r00lz, i'm going to get ready for a scrubs marathon. yes. preparing for procrastination, it's what the cool kids do.
i really want a waffle cone. hot fudge. maccas...

she's my queen, bitch.

2010-03-05T17:51:00.002+11:00

so uhm, math study sucks.
i think i'm going to make a math playlist, with songs that have teh word math in them.
first one is this, because fuck it, i love bright eyes.

Is the passion all gone?
Or is it still newly wed?
If all this heat is doing
Is making us stick to the bed
Then there is no life
To revive.

But if the hunger is still there, buried somewhere inside
Covered up by the boredom
we’ve been trying to hide
Then dig it up and devour

It'll seem more like a song
And less like it's math
If you pull on my hair, and bite me like that
It'll seem more like a song
And less like it's math
If you pull on my hair, and bite me like that
It'll seem more like a song
Yeah more like a song
(uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh)

And the truth is that I can hardly wait
I don’t care if we stay up too late
Don’t answer the phone
Don’t answer the phone

It'll seem more like a song
And less like it's math
If you pull on my hair, and bite me like that
It'll seem more like a song
And less like it's math
If you pull on my hair, and bite me like that
And bite me like that
And bite me like scratch me like that
(uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh)

And the truth is that I can hardly wait
It itches so bad that I can’t concentrate
Don’t answer the phone
Don’t answer the phone

And it will be more like a song and less like its math
If you pull on hair and bite me like that.
It'll seem more like a song
And less like it's math
If you pull on my hair, and bite me like that
And bite me like that
And scratch me (and bite me) like that

i'll roshambo you for it.

2010-03-05T10:46:00.002+11:00

...and then robert smith owns, and doesn't even take the triangle of zinthar.

exams are hard.
i'm going to go read about math now.
that should be fun.

i was upset and i didn't really mean it

2010-02-27T13:26:00.003+11:00

they're really cute.

i'm going to watch little miss sunshine later.
yeah, see what you're missing out on? yeah.

sitting in an english garden waiting for the sun.

2010-02-27T12:39:00.005+11:00

you're a fat selfish fuck and i hate you.
but that's okay because this is hsc year so i'm going to get fat. my jeans already shrunk.
why? she doesn't do any exercise apart from standing up, and she eats a shitload of food.
just food.
nomnomnoms.

You're not gonna like what you're gonna hear.
I hate you.
Operation, you're not here.
You cant love what you cant like
What you fear.
Operation, cover your eyes.
I dont wanna see you, I dont wanna feel you
(Not) near me.
Operate.
Operation.
Operation, cover your ears.
You're not gonna like what you're gonna hear.
I hate you.
Operation, cover your ears.
You cant love what you cant like
What you fear.
Oh, how did you know it was so easy to destroy her?
Operation, cover your eyes.
I dont wanna see you, I don't wanna feel you
(Not) near me.
Operation, cover your ears.
You're not gonna like what you're gonna hear.
I hate you.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

a lover, but not a dancer.

2010-02-26T21:18:00.004+11:00

feeling pretty darn shitty.

is it possible the best part of my night was listening to my father tell me about how he could see stars?
probably.
most probably.
fail.

john and mary had never met. they were like two mockingbirds who had also never met.

2010-02-26T13:23:00.003+11:00

hannah's series of unfortunate events
...today happened to be the day that the 538 came early.
hannah missed the bus.
either brave an extra hour at school and an obviously illegitimate note, or walk.
she walked. she walked to the overpass.
perhaps she'd be lucky, perhaps the 536 would have a better timetable.
it didn't.
she had twenty minutes to wait. she called her parents to see if she could maybe collect her brother now instead of at three, because her feet hurt. they said no.
so she bought an expensive coke and waited for the bus.
at which point it started to rain.
and rain.
and rain.
and then when she got to gladesville, she went to find another bus, another ten minutes, some more rain.
and rain when she walked home from the next bus stop.
and rain now as she finally gets inside.
and presumably, rain when she leaves again in an hour's time to collect v.
and probably while she waits for him to come outside.
and probably while they walk home too.
and probably for the next two days and nights they spend inside together.
woot.

...successes?
she missed out on some of eco to listen to a loud greek man read to kill a mockingbird.
she still got out of two study periods.
she might not be completely shit at english paper one. section one. anyway. maybe the teacher will like the mermaid creative too. or is it a MERMAN! no, it's definitely a mermaid.
aforementioned loud greek man is helping her with her story again on monday.
he also happened to be at the overpass eating as she went by. cue enthusiastic smiles and waves, because hey, they're tight for life.

...he was deeply in love. when she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

pwn the n00b

2010-02-24T21:00:00.002+11:00

....'i'll wear it to a boy/girl sleepover!'
darlingcakes, i love you.

i also kinda love this.

you seem so perfect

2010-02-22T20:22:00.003+11:00

...vincent didn't find it funny when i changed his mathletics person to a nigger with green hair, a ballin' cap, a knight's outfit, and orange eyes.
i don't know what his problem is.
at least i didn't make him into a girl avatar.

my mum says i'm cool.

2010-02-21T22:21:00.003+11:00

hannah's fun fact #2
...a cigarette a day keeps the doctor away.
or so says mr. dal santo.
mr. winter just said 'living's overrated anyway.'
good advice, gentlemen, good advice.

...i'd put angsty smoking pictures up from the last couple days, but, you know, we all saw them in the big day out album, and hey, in person at aidan's. so why bother?
oh and we didn't take any because casey's shy.
brooding pictures in an alley seem necessary, but that'll just be sammy d's major.

so uhm, here's pimpin' milhouse.