Nine Twenty-two.

I think it's kind of funny when people tell me to change.
On a daily basis, I have people who tell me to get my driver's lisence, ask me if I'm ever going to cut my hair, or why don't I wear my hair differently? Why don't I wear more make-up? Why don't I wear more dresses?

I mean Jesus fucking Christ, have I ever told you to change? No.
Learn to adapt.

But I mean, the funniest thing about it, is that I'm like the only person I know that actually likes who they are.

Oh My Friend Lonliness.

I'm not scared. Not technically. I'm not sure what I am.
This would be the first time I have spent more than ten minutes alone in my new apartment. I can't describe to you how it makes me feel, because it is something that I haven't experienced before. It's not a feeling I'm used to. I decided to put music on, not because the apartment is scary or eerie, but just because music always tends to bring a slight sense of a presence.
I don't really think I have generally been a very independant person before. I mean, I have always had my own opinions, and acted, dressed, spoke, danced and understood everything the way I want. I don't have a problem with having to deal with situations on my own, and I always listen to myself before I listen to others. I prefer to figure things out for myself and not let other people's opinions effect my own. But I mean, when it comes to being around people - I always have been. I grew up with a brother and a sister. My mum was there for a while, but Dad always has been. Now I'm in the deep end, and I'm not going to let myself drown, but I suppose I can find myself struggling at times. I'm not sure I like being on my own sometimes. I think that I'm just the kind of person who needs to be around people, or talking to people, or even electronically communicating with people. Not all the time, no. But more often than not.

I guess it's just like a skill,
or perhaps even something I suppose I'll just have to start getting used to.

Parkville Killed my Friend.

You were almost imaginary,
I think.

A soccer ball rolled over to my feet,
I looked up and saw you. Two years older than me.
Our adventures were short,
quicker than most;
But the strongest friendship I'll know.
Radio stations from the rooftop,
volume louder than ever.
Walk down the street, further, further,
Can you still hear it as clear as before?
I don't remember tears,
but I knew all your fears.
And I sheilded you the best that I could.
"For Sale" the sign said,
"I'm sorry" you said.
A book full of greif,
A kiss on the cheek,
and two years without a word.

I cried this time,
and I promise that I tried,
But only your chemicals know where you are now.

And You Don't Know The Half of It.

I felt like I had to get to know you.
And I'd regret now it if I didn't.

I knocked on your door only hours after it had happened;
You hadn't even cried yet.
It quickly became swingsets after dark,
midnight golf games and streetlamps;
"I'll meet you on the corner"
Trading cigarettes in the back of someone's truck,
Somehow we never ran out.
And that night where it all fell apart,
we told him not to be afraid. And he wasn't anymore.
Together we picked up the peices,
and sat in the driveway all night.
You're important to me, he said.
You're important to me, I replied.
And we hugged, and danced at the Centre.

That Was All We Had.

I remember you.
I think I'm the only one between us two who remembers.

Bus shelter runaways, late night candle light,
Fast food junkies, a smoker in an alleyway.
Quick, we'd say. We don't have much time.
Wear out our souls, duct tape to fix,
Chaos followed me home.
Beer in an empty grand stand,
Scale a fence; break an ankle.
Train tracks to nowhere,
for three days we were lost.
I don't remember how we stayed awake,
but I remember every word you said.
I'd never seen you cry before,
and the music drowned you out.
You made me promise,
I gave you my word,
And I miss you every day.

Three Stories Higher.

My entire life will change tomorrow.
Everyone keeps asking if I'm excited. I've thought alot about it, and truthfully - not really. I think "scared" is a better way to put it. I mean, everytime I start to feel scared I remind myself to stop being such a baby and just grow up. I'm nineteen years old now, I've been working full-time for almost two years. My family's financial issues have hit the fan and it's time for me to go.
I think that the hardest thing about saying goodbye to my house, besides leaving my family, is because I'm leaving the house where I swear I can still feel my Mum's spirit. The couch where she passed, the kitchen where she cooked, the books that she read. It was over five years ago now, and I have learnt to become content with the whole thing. But the thought of leaving the place where those memories happened - leaving the rooms and items that keep those memories so vivid. That's what scares me.

But it's the right time. You can't always make everybody happy.

My entire life will change tomorrow. I get one last sleep in the house that changed my life last time.

Holography.

A friend told me today that he doesn't think he will ever be happy again.

It kind of makes me mad when people say things like that. It's usually people who haven't been through too much in their lives - and I'm not putting that down or anything because if they haven't experienced worse, then they simply don't know worse. And there is nothing wrong about that.
But the truth is that these people just don't realise what they have. They're too caught up in this crazy, insane idea of what they think that they want. They're so blinded by trying to reach for something more, something different, something exciting that they look past what they have now. Sometimes what you think you want at the time is not really what you need. And what you need is right in front of you.

I think you really need to be concious of what you have. Otherwise by the time you get back from your adventurous spiral of trying to find something better, you may just find that what you had all along was all you really needed.

2010: Hurry the fuck up.

I'm sick of 2009.

It's getting me nowhere.

(and life is too short to waste it on sheer hope)