25 December, 2007

Merry Christmas/Happy New Year

-

So this is to you,
To the things that you have seen
To the person you helped me be.
And the places you and I have been.

To the way things change with every turn of the earth
And the way you showed me just what I am worth.

To your beautiful soul;
More precious than anything you could ever imagine.
More precious than anything you could hold.
So frail and mighty and beautiful.
If only you could see.

To who you are,
Your questions and thoughts and fears and dreams
Your hope, flickering, dwindles and gleams.

And to the way i saw your face in front of mine;
Oh you were hidden in the light

The way you reached in to the darkness, surrounding me.
And the way your light reached in to my being.

Dark and light
Intertwined
To bring a day
That follows night.

To you
I drink to you

This night
With closed eyes
I'll whisper
Whisper your name to the day.

-

17 December, 2007

Matt Corby

Ahem:

Matt Corby hugged me.

26 November, 2007

Matt Corby



Okay, so just to get the truth out there: I am a Matt Corby fan. An avid fan.
In case any one doesn't know, Matt is the runner up for this year of Australian Idol.
I know, he's a pretty boy, and normally I don't like the pretty boys, but I love Matt Corby.

Some people at my church used to play in a band with him, and he's coming to perform at our church's carols service (I forgot to get tickets) and my friend is singing backup for him. Very jealous. Not really. Actually very happy.

Matt Corby came second! Which is good because then he doesn't have to conform to mainstream the way the record label would make him.

I want to marry him. So does Josh... !?








Matt Corby sings Bedouin Song


Matt Corby sings The Blower's Daughter



That's all I have to say about that.

16 November, 2007

I wrote this for my English exam.
Oh how I love creative writing for exams.
Although it's missing most of its rhythmical metre...
It was something to do with context studies, and we had to do it on future worlds.



I don't know what my future holds for me.
Though I prefer to hope it's something fine.
I wonder, some days, just what I will be.
I wonder also what things will be mine.

The stories tell us that it's to be feared;
That hope will dissolve right before our eyes.
In all those stories, as the future neared,
Despair seemed to falling from the skies.

I pray my future holds me oh so tight,
And keeps me safe from things with evil face.
I plead with my future to get things right:
"Set a simple course, with a pleasant pace!"

Embrace the days that we have up ahead,
Would you rather repeat the past instead?

You grew like a flower
From an ambitious
Little seed
Shower, water, shower!
Shower me 'til
I am freed

You grew like a flower
A thing of beauty
Shining bright
Tower higher, tower
What a picture!
What a sight!

You flew like a flower
Which doesn't
Make much sense
Cower, and then cower
Waiting in
Black suspense

You flew like a flower
That's confusing
In itself
Power drawing power
Drinking to
Evil wealth

You died like a flower
Lost and gone
From this world
Hour after hour
We watched as
Your leaves curled

You died like a flower
Faded in
To the dirt
Flower, little flower
Can we undo
All the hurt?

Of these things I do complain:
Abundant earth and lack of rain.
Arrows, for answers, I shoot in vain.
Falling short miss their target, again, again.
I don't understand--these things leave stain:
The lack of valour, abundant pain.

11 November, 2007

Overexposed.

I've been
Overexposed
To the poison you breed,
This Beast,
You bleed in to me.
My tear stained face can't hold your lies.
Turn over,
See:
Not this filthy compromise,
No,
It's naked truth
That you despise.

-

22 October, 2007

The Mask.

The Mask. The best of us all wear a mask at some point in our lives, some more than others.
We cover up our feelings, our mistakes, our secrets with these masks, so that the people around us can't see them. They only see the Mask, beautifully decorated but false nonetheless.
The Mask is a safe haven for many. The Mask gives the appearance of our lives to others the way we wish them to see it. But the Mask can be so dangerous. It covers up things that you never knew it could cover up, and when people can't see past the Mask, they can't see you. They don't really know you. All they know is the Mask you've been holding on to for so long. What happens when you get tired of holding up the Mask? What happens when you let go?

Maybe you're scared that they'll think you're ugly without the Mask, the beautifully crafted and cared for Mask, stripped bare, back down to you.
Is it the fear of what's under the Mask that prevents people from revealing their true selves?

Masks, whilst blocking you from view and judgement, also obscure your vision. Peripheral vision is cut off and all you see is the ugly inside of the Mask.
The Mask not only blinds other people, but it blinds you.
It blinds others into thinking you're something, someone you're not, whether good or bad. But it blinds you into obsession. All you can see and focus on are the things you're trying to cover up, which leads to you only feeling worse, not better about the image you project. It blinds your view of the world, because you don't see it, or other people as they are, you see them from your skewed position behind the mask.

The Mask is both friend and enemy. And getting attached is hard; it gets harder and harder to let go the longer you hold up the Mask, and it will be, inevitably, painful to pry the mask from your weary hidden face.

It's scary, letting go. I suppose the best we can hope for is that others will like what's under the mask, and if they don't, perhaps they will acknowledge us as creators of the Mask, an art form at best.

We should none of us judge what's under anyone's mask, remembering that we all have our own masks from time to time.

16 October, 2007

Blogland.

On orders from Benchong Town, I am writing a blog.
But the thing is, see the thing is, the thing is, see the thing is I don't know what to blog about.
(A cookie for anyone who just got the Lano & Woodley reference.)

So I will just talk about myself for a while. Actually, here is a list of stuff:
1. I started writing a book the other day. Awesome.
2. I have too much homework and I am slack. I'm probably going to fail 3/4 studio arts but that's my teacher's fault; he's never there, and when he is he never ceases talking about totem poles.
3. Crispy Potato flavoured 'In a Biscuit' biscuits taste nice if you think of roast potato, but feral when you think of raw potato.
4. Grace asked me to design the t-shirts for mission, and I'm scared they'll be crap. Any preferences for colour out there?
5. I am very sleepy.
6. My friend came home from India for a month! We're going to have ice cream before she goes back again.
7. I don't want to finish my list on such an un-rounded number.
8. The Milo is all gone.
9. I have to work tonight and I don't want to.
10. I suck at blob this round.

24 September, 2007

Another 3 things.

Thing 1.
Don't see Superbad. It's super bad.


Thing 2.
Went to one of those parties on Saturday where people just get drunk, hook up, and dance.
I don't drink or hook up, but I did dance with Hannah and Esther and people from youth which was fun, especially since I'm not generally a dancing person. This is where thing 3 took place.


Thing 3.

It was one of the guys from youth who had the party so half of my youth group was there and one of my smallgroup girls hooked up with the DJ which freaked me out a little but oh well, her decision. After a while she went outside to make a phone call and it just so happened that the DJ went outside too to have a smoke. Problem was we didn't know that, and I was worried because I know things about her past and no one could find either of them inside or outside, plus if anything happened to her I would feel responsible, even though it's not legally my responsibility.
She eventually reappeared, but then one of the other youth leaders went over to talk to her about it and she told me later that he was swearing his head off at her and telling her that she shouldn't be making out with guys and that if she goes somewhere she still needs to tell us even if it's a party. He was just belittling her and way overstepping the line.

Anyway, he made her cry and she never wants to come to church or youth again. She thinks everyone hates her, but they don't. I'm very angry. Because that was not his place, even if it was he should not speak to her, or anyone else like that.
I am so angry.

13 September, 2007

Fairytale.

Life is not a fairytale, is it? I'm just having a sad realization, that's all.

The good guy doesn't always win.
I guess I've always been an optimist... which isn't a bad thing really. In my mind things will always just work out, and they usually do just work out in reality. Usually. The good guy usually wins in my life, even through all the crap.

But for some people it doesn't.
Sometimes it's hard for me to comprehend all the bad stuff in the world.
It makes me sad. I want to cry for those people who have nothing... the people who the bad guy always wins over...

I'm a pretty hopeful person most of the time. I wonder what it feels like to lose all your hope... hopeless...
I have a friend who scorns at people who are depressed, or hate life, or commit suicide, because she does not understand.

I've never been in that constant state of pure despair and hopelessness, but I can understand why people whould rather stop living...

25 August, 2007

James Blunt on Sesame Street.

HA. I am not a fan of James Blunt, but I am a fan of this:

12 August, 2007

Minesweeper guy.

Look how cool this picture is that I made.

It moves!
It is my contribution to the various minesweeper blogs that seem to be going around. Be careful it's contagious.

07 August, 2007

A blog of three things.

This is a blog of three things. They are all unrelated, but through this blog they will marry, and become one.




Thing 1:
Surrender.

Surrender is a conference I went to for Vetamorphus, which is exciting I suppose. B.C. also went to this conference, which is an upside. Or is it a downside because he is smelly? Who knows?
I was half asleep the entire weekend. Literally falling off my chair. I think if I had not been so tired, I would have enjoyed Surrender a whole lot more. It was inspiring, what I managed to get out of it, and it was about poverty and things like that, and the need for us to change the world.

That's a very bad description, but I really can't offer anything more. Pester Chongface for betterness because he was probably awake.

I've been having some conversations (mostly with Ben Chongtown) recently about poverty and the like, and doing something for the world.

I have decided that my two 'issues' that I'm most passionate about are:

-Suicide, depression, and homelessness in Australian teens etc...
-Poverty outside of Australia.

I need to do something, but at the moment my issue is that I don't know exactly what to do. I've said that for the rest of the year, I'm going to do any clothes shopping at op shops, but that is more something I'm doing to change myself, not others' situations.
I had this random idea at work tonight that I could design and sell t-shirts, and donate some of the money to charity, and invest the rest of the money to make more t shirts to sell for charity. It's a baby of an idea yet, but it has me excited.

I'm looking forward to this journey of doing... well, something.



Thing 2:
Conversation.

Today at school, I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine. We always have interesting conversations. Anyway, we were talking about The Lost Tomb of Jesus, or whatever that show was called that was on last night, and she asked me what I would do if they found something that proved that my whole religion was a lie. That the bible had been made up, that Jesus was a terrorist (random?).

I honestly don't know what I'd do if something like that happened. I'd like to think that my faith is strong enough for me to believe even if they found 'evidence' of Christianity's falseness.
My whole like has been built around God. I grew up in a Christian home, I've made the choice for myself to follow Jesus... but what if all I stood for was just taken from me? I wouldn't know who I was... So much of my life is built on God, partly because when I've built my life on other people they've broken my trust and let me fall.

But what would you do if you found out that it was all a lie?



Thing 3:
Note.

I was leaving a comment on someone's blog, I hadn't signed in, and the little box on the left said 'Choose an identity'.

I thought it was funny the way it just says 'Choose and identity'.
Imagine if you could do that in real life. Just choose whatever identity whenever you wanted to.






I feel as if this blog is badly written, but I don't care. I'm tired.

25 July, 2007

17

24 July, 2007

Harry Potter

I finished reading the book.




I will not give anything away in case any avid HP fan who has not yet read the 7th book reads this... But I will say that I liked it. I was worried, as I always am with final books, that the ending would be a let down in some way or other. It was not. My only disappointment was that the book didn't go for longer. And that blank didn't blank in to a blank.
That is all.

23 July, 2007

YouYube/TouTube

Watch them, my children...

Supar Marios Parondies


Demetri Martin

19 July, 2007

Po-wet-tree.

Here is a collection of short poems that make little, or no sense. I wrote most of them last night when I was half asleep and delusional.

I am.
I am half of what I need to be
None of what I want to be
Everything of what you see
Nothing of what is not me

---

Ingrained in my memory
What started as a tiny seed
Has now become a mustard tree
...metaphorically.

---

Last night I thought I was going to die
I woke up this morning and I was fine
I dreamed about the old dirt road
That distant place of you and I...

---

You are.
You are this
You are that
I told you
To eat my hat

You are good
You are bad
Will you remember
The fun we had?

You are funny
You are boring
I lay awake all night
Listening to you snoring

You are red
You are green
The blacks, the whites
And in between

You are a cake
You are a carrot
You are the cracker
I fed my parrot

You are mine
You are theirs
But I know you think
That no one cares

You are the rain
You are the sun
The planets, the moons
And stars overrun

You are cold
You are warm
Just never normal
So I am torn

You are you
You are them
Stop this nonsense
I'm going to bed

You are the break
You fixed my heart
You stop and start it
You pull it apart

You are the reason I am
You are the reason I will be
The reason I was
And all that I see

You are passionate
You are passion fruit
I don't think you know
That I adore you

You are given
You are taken
Through it all
You remain unshaken

You are my sister
You are my brother
You're not related
To my father or my mother

You are the city
You are the hills
You are the place
Where a little bit kills

You are deceitful
You're full of lies
Now I know
Why you don't lock eyes

You are beautiful
You are ugly
You're never enough
The circle of society

You are in tune
You are way out
Remember, to play
'Keep those lips in a pout!'

You are dishonest
You so true
There's no gray area
In black and blue

You are the reason I frown
You are the reason I cry
The plea of the fledgling
I'm going to fly

---

15 July, 2007

Wedding!

My beautiful sister Bree was married to my new brother Nathan yesterday. Bree Morel, as she is now known.

The wedding was at Immerse, which is some vineyard thing in the Yarra Valley. It was very cold because the ceremony was in a barn with no heaters. Poor bridesmaids, in our dresses, freezing.



That is not my beautiful sister Bree. That is my beautiful sister Josh.



Aww...





Bridal partay.


It was a good wedding, Nath cried when Bree was walking down the aisle, how shweet. The reception was warmer, inside with food. Yum. I was embarrassing when they introduced the bridal party, and when they made the speeches due to the constant references of 'Emily is the most eligible bachelorette,' 'Emily is single,' 'Anyone over 20, stay away.' Gaaahhh. Constant references of 'Emily is the next to get married.

It was funny but gee whiz, settle down, tiger. Only 16 yet, stop pressuring me to get hitched.



It was good to see a whole lot of people I haven't seen for a while, i.e. Family friends, old churchyurchy* people, a few beach mission folks, good to see some family, annoying to see other family.
I can't really think of anything else to write that would be interesting.
Although when they were leaving, I said goodbye to Nath, and all he said was 'Giggidy giggidy!'


Bree is married.
Sigh.




*I wrote churchyurchy, Chongface.

10 July, 2007

Vetamorphus.

I am torn... and slightly angry/annoyed/inconvenienced.

We have a list of dates for Vetamorphus. Last term they changed the date of the retreat and didn't tell me until about the week before. I had stuff to do that weekend. They've done it again.

It was meant to be in the middle of August, but instead they've changed it to the weekend of July 25th-27th.

Reasons why this annoys me:
It is my birthday on the 25th, so any celebrations I will have I will want to have on that weekend.
It is my friend Cecily's birthday on the 27th, and she is doing a performance things for her school that she is inviting everyone to.
It is snow day for youth on the 28th, and also Jono's birthday.
It's likely that I'll be on cafe at church because I'll probably miss this Sunday.
Bree gets back from her honey moon sometime that weekend.
July has been a full enough and busy enough month anyway and I cannot handle the stress.


Stupid Veta. I like you, but why do you have to be so damn unorganised?
Am I being hypocritical? Probably. But I am unorganised at my own expense usually, not other peoples'.



Sigh.

08 July, 2007

Central - 25 things

Hooooome! Although I wish I was still there.
Here are 25 things I did on Central.

1. Climbed Uluru
2. Met Cecily on Uluru
3. Saw Cecily at three different places
4. Held a crocodile
5. Swam under a waterfall
6. Slept under the stars
7. Discovered that 3.14* goes to DCC
8. Rode on a bus for nearly 10,000km
9. Saw Aboriginies fighting and no one doing anything about it
10. Was attacked as a group by a group of Aboriginies
11. Watched the sun set on the beach
12. Celebrated N.T. day at Mindal Beach night market
13. 'Swam' with 'crocodiles'
14. Relaxed in hot springs
15. Swam under spider webs
16. Held a snake
17. Rode a camel
18. Drove through backburning
19. Had an op-shop formal
20. Got drawn on while sleeping
21. Spent hours on top of Stuart (The HWY, people!)
22. Chipped my tooth on a humbug
23. Avoided cracking it or crying.
24. Climbed Kings Canyon
25. Got sick

(*Kimberley Pye)


Highlight: Most things on that list. Also waking up in the middle of the night on the first overnight bus trip in to a shadowy land of neverending desert.
Lowlight: My friends. Pshhht.
Interesting: Being attacked.

21 June, 2007

Goodbive!

CentralCentralCentralCentralCentralCentral
CentralCentralCentralCentralCentralCentral
CentralCentralCentralCentralCentralCentral
CentralCentralCentralCentralCentralCentral
CentralCentralCentralCentralCentralCentral
CentralCentralCentralCentralCentralCentral
CentralCentralCentralCentralCentralCentral
CentralCentralCentralCentralCentralCentral
CentralCentralCentralCentralCentralCentral


!

I am leaving at 6:30 am tomorrow. Tomorrow being Friday.
I scared, eek!
This is my little goodbye post.
I will be back on the 8th of July. Hooray.
I am feeling very dizzy and I don't like it. Praaaay with me?

But now I must sleep.
Gooood niiiight.
AHHHHH.
Excitement.
I want to cryyyy.
Four times in one week not so good. Ahhh too much stuff ahhhh!


Ok, calm. Sleep. Goodnight. Love. Happy holidays.

-Em

12 June, 2007

Skrbl

09 June, 2007

Dash the Assassin

Dash the Assassin is one of my current favourite bands.
Click here and listen, yo.

Easy as 1,2,3...

No One can see that there's no Two
But Two can see there'll be no Three
Unfourtunately for little Three
Three's existence depends on Two
Of which One thinks Two will do
Of which Two knows is not true
The living Three would be joined by Four
Joined by Four against Two's law
After Three Two wouldn't want Four
Four would fuel the age-long war.




I wrote this confusing little thing a while ago.
It doesn't really mean anything, but I'm interested as to what other people interpret it as.

07 June, 2007

Title

So. I need to post something that isn't me ranting. Here is a poem I wrote last year! It should win all kinds of prizes.


Pick me up in your arms,
Tell me you love me.
Tell me we're safe,
We're safe from the mung beans.




/END

30 May, 2007

Awesome

24 May, 2007

StressAnxietyAhhhh!

Exams.

Are next week.

I am stressed.

I have so much to do.



Sigh. My subjects this year are: Foundation maths, Vis Comm, Art, 3/4 Studio Arts, Media, and English. Oh and Veta.
I only have four exams. But I also have to do my Vis Comm project, which is due tomorrow, which I haven't started, and my visual diary is at school. I have my maths project to do, which is due next week, and how sad would it be to fail foundation maths?
Had an English SAC today on Gattaca which was pretty easy because it was creative writing not an analytical piece. Have to finish filming for my media product, and have to edit & post production crap, also have to start on my second medium. Also need to get a grasp of representation. Anyone care to explain representation in different terms than my media teacher does? He makes no sense.
Have to study those art things. Elements and something or other. The stupid man teacher wrecked my painting. I hate still life, people always paint fruit, and bowls, and fruit bowls.

Changed my theme for Studio Arts, was doing winter, am now doing faces/eyes.
I have to do my folio & design brief in a week. My teacher is severely abstract when he explains things. Egad I'm scared. Scared.
I have so much to do, so much to do, so much to do.
Going to dad's for dinner tonight.
Youth tomorrow night.
Shopping for central on Saturday.
Work on Saturday.
Church and leader's meeting on Sunday.
Ahhhhhh crap, I'm so screwed.

Went to Top Designs for an excursion yesterday. Made me feel... inadequate? How the hell can I be as good as that? Everything was so creative, and so good.
Why can't I be as good as that?
Arty things are pretty much all I'm good at in my eyes, and I'm not even that good compared to others.
What do I have, if not that?

Why does school and society put so much pressure on us to excel and exceed? I can't do it. I hate this academic world I live in. You're no good unless you have a good, well payed, respected job.
I know that's not really true, but that's the pressure they put on us.

I can't do it. I can't.









Maybe, just maybe, I can. Prayer would be good.

21 May, 2007

... More than meets the eye...

08 May, 2007

Camp, Correction, C-video.

In answer (wow, how big does the font want to be?) to Jono's question about 'Bob' here are two YouTube videos.








CAMP.
Veta retreat no. 2:

I think I liked retreat no. 2 more and less.
More: Because I knew the people and what to expect, and people didn't annoy me as much as on the last one. Also, the Planetshakers people weren't there being all exclusive. Ok that's harsh, but true for the most part.
Less: I was tired and stressed. And surprised at my attitudes at times. Beat myself up for that.

But overall it was good. Talked to people more this time. We went to Youth Alive on the Friday night, which was a good, but deafening experience. The sessions were on personality types, (by Glenda, who else?) a guy called Rowan Lewis came and talked about 'Who am I?' and the Trinity, Greg talked about groups/team management, and did a communion thing, and Digger did some cool stuff on evangelism.
Lots of people complain about sessions. And they can't sit that long. But I love sessions! Yay!
Oh, and Glenda did a thing about depression and dealing with ourselves and other people who have depression, bi-polar, etc...

I got annoyed/angry after that session, because it had obviously bean a very sort of morbid session, someone was crying and we were all feeling rather somber. I remarked to the other girl in my peer group: "I'm feeling a bit depressed after that."
To which she gave me a dirty look, and told me not say something like that because she hates it when people talk about depression like that without knowing what it means.
Which I suppose is fair enough, I dare say she's had her share of crap dealings in life and knows what depression is, but it just annoyed me so much. The way she said it too, it was so condescending, but it made me angry that she thought she knew me enough to think I don't know what depression is, or have never had any experience of it. I know full well what it is and have had plenty experience, probably with more experience to come, in fact I've been wondering since that session whether I have depression or not, wondering that actually made me break down at school yesterday, but anyway.

It usually makes me angry when everyone thinks their life is crap. Well, when they think they're the ONLY person whose life is crap. My life is crap sometimes/a lot of the time, but I know other people's are as well, and I know that the crap times will come and go, for me and everyone else. I just wish people wouldn't be so self-centered about their problems. Or maybe I'm just bitter because I hold all my problems inside instead of complaining/talking about them when I really just want to whine and complain and cry all day long.

Anywho, enough of that.


CORRECTION
In a previous post, I said that my personality according to the Myers-Briggs thing or whatever is INFJ. Which is false, it is actually INFP, and according to Glenda, I am "The least J person she knows." (J people are usually organized an the like.)
You can go here and read, if you can be bothered, about INFP.

Then if you had even more bothering up your sleeve, you could even do the test and tell me what you are!

NEWS
Josh just told me that he rolled Aunty Anne on the phone! High five? Yeah, we don't like her much. We're not just hating on her, there are valid reasons for our extreme dislike for this person who is (unfortunately) related to us.

~FIN~

29 April, 2007

Bob - Weird Al Yankovic

I, man, am regal -- a German am I
Never odd or even
If I had a hi-fi
Madam, I'm Adam
Too hot to hoot
No lemons, no melon
Too bad I hid a boot
Lisa Bonet ate no basil
Warsaw was raw
Was it a car or a cat I saw?

Rise to vote, sir
Do geese see God?
"Do nine men interpret?" "Nine men," I nod
Rats live on no evil star
Won't lovers revolt now?
Race fast, safe car
Pa's a sap
Ma is as selfless as I am
May a moody baby doom a yam?

Ah Satan sees Natasha
No devil lived on
Lonely Tylenol
Not a banana baton
No "x" in "Nixon"
O, stone, be not so
O Geronimo, no minor ego
"Naomi", I moan
"A Toyota's a Toyota"
A dog, a panic in a pagoda

Oh, no! Don Ho!
Nurse, I spy gypsies -- run!
Senile felines
Now I see bees I won
UFO tofu
We panic in a pew
Oozy rat in a sanitary zoo
God! A red nugget! A fat egg under a dog!
Go hang a salami, I'm a lasagna hog

27 April, 2007

Dear Chibi...

What's that dear Chibi?
You think I'm a nerd?
Excuse me, but when was the last time I erred?
Ok 'twas I blew up the children's playground,
But I built a new one,
One that is much more fun.

Yes, and the time I infected the city with a cold;
It didn't last long,
And a blocked up nose was all that was wrong.
Don't judge me dear Chibi,
For you are but a monkey, and none perfect yourself,
What about the time you broke my good shelf?

An inventor am I,
The best there is.
All my machines whir and whiz.
I admit that I'm lonely, for I've no wife or kids,
My only friend a monkey,
Chibi, he's dimmer that squids.

I have big glasses.
Often askew, broken three times,
With lots of little cracks and lines.
My hair sticks up,
My fingernails are yellow,
But you, Dear Chibi, are worse: You're shallow.

Wiegh up my successes and failures:
I cured cancer,
Stopped pollution,
Started a healthy revolution.
Yet no one seems to know my face,
As if it were I who came last in a race.

Tell me, Dear Chibi,
How many nobel prizes have you won?
I have one six,
With another one to come.
They sit on a shelf in my head,
Along with your voice, though the nurse says you're dead.

As I look at these padded walls,
I'm fed by the nurse,
This darn white jacket,
My golly! It's a curse!
Dear Chibi, Dear Chibi,
My imaginary monkey...

Poem from year 9 poetry folio.

24 April, 2007

Soundtrack

I'm slowly building up a list of songs. "Songs of my life," I like to call them :D Songs that in some way or other just fit with my life in general, or how it was at a certain time. I will add more later, and possibly elaborate on some as to why they are 'songs of my life' but I won't do that now. All I will say now is that none of the songs are about loving/having a crush on another person. They lyrics may seem that way, but thats not the way I've interpreted/twisted them. Oh, and Lewis Crystal, is actually Crystal Lewis.














I'll also say, don't you like the 'rainbow order'? Only four colours, but, meh.


Here's more! Wow, but that lyrics site with the scroll-y boxes didn't want them to work. Edited so there's not a million choruses.

Golden - Switchfoot
She's alone tonight,
With a bitter cup and,
She's undone tonight,
She's all used up,

She's been staring down the demons,
Who've been screaming she's just another so and so,
Another so and so

There's a fear that burns,
Like trash inside
And you're ashamed of the curse,
That burns your eyes

You've been hiding in your bedroom,
Hoping this isn't not how the story has to go
It's not the way it goes, It's your book now,
You're,

Golden,
You are golden, Child
You are golden,
Don't let go,
Don't let go tonight

You're a lonely soul,
Inlet of broken hearts
You're far from home,
It's a perfect place to start

So this final verse,
Is a contradiction
And the more we learn,
The less we know

We've been talkin' about a feeling,
We both know inside but couldn't find the words
I couldn't write this verse,
I've seldom been so sure,
About anything before

This world is a dead man down
Every breath is a singing crown away,
Like some debilitated king,
Don't let go tonight

Earth Spins and your mind goes round
Green comes on the frozen ground,
And everything will be made new again,
Like freedom and spring,
Hey, like freedom and spring
Like freedom and spring


Delta Goodrem - The Analyst
(Shutup, I'm allowed to have had a Delta Goodrem phase, all right? This dumb spoon is a dumb, dumb spoon.)
Prepare yourself to meet a girl who can not sleep
Dividing every question 'til the questions are complete
Every twisted tongue she studies everyone
She won't leave any stone unturned the night is oh so young

She's traveling back in time
Questioning every line that someone said
She's trying to understand

Free her mind she's always the analyst
Silent space the culprit the catalyst
Trying to make sense of her life
Digging around in the dirt she's a slave to the work
She's always the analyst

Can you be sure we haven't met see the eyes they don't forget
They wander through the passage-ways that tease a restless mind
Can't afford to slip the picture's gotta fit
Her world's a photograph that gets dissected bit by bit

Re-living the mistake she's made not a moment for the curious girl

Free her mind she's always the analyst
Silent space the culprit the catalyst
Trying to make sense of this life
Digging around breaking it down
Neurotic thoughts
Burning the ground
Every sight every sound
She's always the analyst

20 April, 2007

Grrrrekwbhgkehlgnsdyflgnkztscefyzu!#$%@

Everyone is getting on my nerves today and I'm angry. I wish people would get over themselves.

fhuih hk vgekiqu,LV3to8lyh.jrez.6gjn.

17 April, 2007

Benefit of the doubt

Something strange happened to me tonight...

I went to work, was bored at work, this is all the same as usual. It was after work that it happened. I was about to get into the car, when I heard a small 'excuse me' behind me. I was sitting in the car and turned around and there was a lady there looking quite distraught. I didn't really know what she was talking about, because she was rambling, almost in tears, but she asked me if I knew anyone around who went to a church because she need to get to Albury by 11:30pm and she had not petrol or money, and maybe the church or someone from there would give her some and she could pay then back.. She went on to say something about her spleen or something, and told me to forgive her because she had bumps on her head because her husband used to hit her. She rambled on about how her husband was not going to take their kids anymore and she had to get to Albury before they were split up, and she said she used to go to church, but her husband wouldn't let her, she said she still prayed all the time, and she wanted to go back to church, but as a family with her and her kids. She rambled on a lot, I can't remember exactly what she said. My dad asked her how much money she needed, she said she'd need enough for petrol to get to Albuy.

My dad got out of the car and went to the atm and I stayed with the lady, I was a little freaked out because she was so distraught and on the verge of tears. She apologized for asking for money and said that it wasn't something she'd wanted to do. I asked her if it would help if I prayed for her, she said yes, so I asked her name and asked if I could lay hands on her, then I prayed for God to comfort her and help her and stuff, then Dad came back and handed her some money. I'm not sure how much, it was at least $50, but there could've been more than one note. This is no small feat for my Dad, as no one in my family has a lot of money. We said goodbye to the lady, dad told her she didn't have to return the money, "I don't know where you live, you don't know where I live," she thanked us and was even closer to tears.


Then we drove away.

I really hope this wasn't a scam. If it was, I'd feel down right cheated and angry, but I think, in these sort of situations, it's better to give people the benefit of the doubt. That doesn't mean fork out cash to every stranger that asks for it, but don't just take on the idea that they're lying, they may well be not.

I don't know if it was a scam, it was either real, or very well thought out and played. Maybe she was waiting, an saw my Dad's Mercedes Benz and thought he was rich and would more easily fork out money. Quite the opposite, my dad is anything but rich, the car cost his $200 and is in constant disrepair.

But maybe it wasn't a scam. Maybe it was timed just perfectly. If Dad hadn't parked instead of just picking me up where I stood, if I hadn't been working tonight, if those ladies hadn't been in the way and slowed me down, if my dad wasn't already planning to take out cash... there's a lot of variables in there, but I suppose they could work out to be unlucky variables.

Scam or not, doubt I'll ever know, but it's left me with a strange feeling, and nothing feels quite real at the moment.

15 April, 2007

One Day

Woo. Last night I was in the city for 'One Day' which is some worship concert thing... anyway, our 'Xtreme Youth' band played for an hour and a half, which was fun. I sing, for those of you playing at home, and Josh drums.

'Twas a hoot, if I do say so myself, especially since I wasn't really in the mood. We didn't sound really fantastic though, I think we had too many singers, and we hadn't done levels or anything, and we didn't know who was doing what harmonies and such... there were some strange harmonies in there... also apparently only one of the guitars could be heard and there were four I think.

Haha, at one time, this dude came on stage, he was holding a bowling ball and a little tin kettle, and was posing with them. I think he was trying to take the piss out of us, but I found it funny. Some guys had to drag him offstage. Should I have been angry or offended? I decide no. If I should've been, I wasn't and I'm not. It was just amusing.

Hmm, when we finished playing/worshiping, the host came on stage and got everyone to pray for the city of Melbourne. I must say, I felt like a 'kooky Christian' at that point. I can imagine all the people walking by who weren't Christians, or maybe even were, just snickering at us and shaking their heads. Maybe I shouldn't care about that, maybe I should, but I'm generally not the kind of person who is all "Jesuuuus!" in public.

Went to Macca's (should that have an apostrophe?) afterwards, ate a lot, had two cups of ice (blocks) then dropped someone home, went to bed.

11 April, 2007

TMNT

Zzz... duuuude... Zzz... duuuude...

I saw TMNT last night, you're all jealous, aren't you?
I liked it, here I'll give it numbers... and such...and I'm going to be generous...

Animation Effects: 10/10

Costume: 6/10 Eh, they were good, but the turtles were too skinny, as was everyone else. Everyone has really deformed body shapes in these sort of animations, and I felt that it took away the fact that they are Mutant Ninja Turtles. Everyone should look normal, they should look weird. And Leo's purple thing wasn't the right shade of purple to my liking.

Character: 9/10 I think they were all in character from the TV series, but they were more extreme, all of their quirks and personalities were magnified, not just a little bug in the corner.

Accent: What the hell!? Is all I have to say.

Use of 'dude' 'kowabunga' and the like: 9/10 I would've liked to have seen a few more 'kowabungas' but otherwise, very good.

Ninja: 10/10 Ninja ninja ninja ninja ninja.

Sensai: 8/10 He was very cool, just, something didn't feel right.

Plot: 7/10 It was good, it was very mysterious, but it just felt like an excuse to have ninja turtles, which isn't bad, I'll take any excuse to have ninja turtles!

My sources (calculator) are telling me that overall I gave the movie a score of:

8.4285714285714285714285714285714

Which I suppose is fair. Let's just round that up to 8.5, shall we?

It's good, go see it, go love it, go eat it.

10 April, 2007

I did this Personality Test today, I was actually a little surprised at how accurate it was, I usually tend to be skeptical of these sorts of things, but only because a lot of them are bogus.
I came out as an INFJ, which I don't understand completely, but the description fits.



The Portrait of the Counselor Idealist (iNFj)

The Counselor Idealists are abstract in thought and speech, cooperative in reaching their goals, and enterprising and attentive in their interpersonal roles. Counselors focus on human potentials, think in terms of ethical values, and come easily to decisions. The small number of this type (little more than 2 percent) is regrettable, since Counselors have an unusually strong desire to contribute to the welfare of others and genuinely enjoy helping their companions. Although Counsleors tend to be private, sensitive people, and are not generally visible leaders, they nevertheless work quite intensely with those close to them, quietly exerting their influence behind the scenes with their families, friends, and colleagues. This type has great depth of personality; they are themselves complicated, and can understand and deal with complex issues and people.


Counselors can be hard to get to know. They have an unusually rich inner life, but they are reserved and tend not to share their reactions except with those they trust. With their loved ones, certainly, Counselors are not reluctant to express their feelings, their face lighting up with the positive emotions, but darkening like a thunderhead with the negative. Indeed, because of their strong ability to take into themselves the feelings of others, Counselors can be hurt rather easily by those around them, which, perhaps, is one reason why they tend to be private people, mutely withdrawing from human contact. At the same time, friends who have known a Counselor for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise. Not that they are inconsistent; Counselors value their integrity a great deal, but they have intricately woven, mysterious personalities which sometimes puzzle even them.


Counselors have strong empathic abilities and can become aware of another's emotions or intentions -- good or evil -- even before that person is conscious of them. This "mind-reading" can take the form of feeling the hidden distress or illnesses of others to an extent which is difficult for other types to comprehend. Even Counselors can seldom tell how they came to penetrate others' feelings so keenly. Furthermore, the Counselor is most likely of all the types to demonstrate an ability to understand psychic phenomena and to have visions of human events, past, present, or future. What is known as ESP may well be exceptional intuitive ability-in both its forms, projection and introjection. Such supernormal intuition is found frequently in the Counselor, and can extend to people, things, and often events, taking the form of visions, episodes of foreknowledge, premonitions, auditory and visual images of things to come, as well as uncanny communications with certain individuals at a distance.

Mohandas Gandhi and Eleanor Roosevelt are examples of the Counselor Idealist (INFJ).



More about INFJ and other personality types.

The Raven

What can I say? I'm a fan.


The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,"

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely,' said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!"

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as 'Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!' said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked upstarting -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

-Edgar Allen Poe, 1845

31 March, 2007

Oh dear, a small piece of my brain has fallen out!

Daaaaaaaaamn.
I sat on my glasses. Bend-age now. Need pliers. Good thing school is finished for now. I'm sick of school. Behind in work, missing week of school is bad, damn conjunctivitis. Provisionally failed maths. Uh oh. It's only foundation.

I am scared that my media product will be bad. Ramble ramble.

26 March, 2007

What's in a name?

Emily:
Rival
Emulating
Striving
Industrious

Those are a few definitions I found for my name... I don't like it... Well, I like the name, but I'm not sure if I like the definitions, for me that is.

What is in a name? I'm not really a superstitious person, if you would call it superstition, but do names really carry any meaning for a person? I don't like the idea that I'm moulded a certain way because of my name, it makes me feel like I'm being controlled.

I wish it was like the bible, or a lot of other book and stories I've read where people are renamed, they get their real name from someone that's shaped around their true self, and reveals their identity.
I want that name.

What would you rename me if you had the chance?

21 March, 2007

Elaboration across the nation.

"They sung 'I am a Friend of God' or whatever it's called... one of my pronouncedly disliked songs... but I got over it. Will elaborate, eventually."

I said I would elaborate, so here is my elaboration, wow!
This is a song we sing at church sometimes, and I don't like it. A few other people I know don't like it either, anyway, the song's basic lyrics are:


I am a friend of God
I am a friend of God
I am a friend of God
He calls me friend.

There are more, but I forget what they are.
I don't know why I dislike the song so much, I just do. Maybe it has to do with the lyrics... I like my lyrics deep and meaningful. Maybe those lyrics are deep and meaningful for someone else, but they're not for me.


Whenever we sing the song in worship, I just cringe on the inside, especially when I see the worship leaders up on stage smiling and clapping and such... one of them really annoys me, because it always looks like she's fake smiling, and I don't like her voice, but anyway, it's not about that.
I suppose you would say our church is pentecostal, we're big on worship and the holy spirit and such.

So, when the song started playing, I just tuned out and probably rolled my eyes on the inside, at the same time as going 'Ugh! I hate this song!'
After a little while of being stubborn and song-hating, I had the realisation that the songs we sing in worship aren't for me. They're not for you either, or anyone else in my church, your church, or the world. The songs are for God, and he doesn't care what they sound like, or if I don't like the song, he cares about the heart that the worship is coming from. I don't sing worship songs for my enjoyment (although I do enjoy it anyway) or to feel close to God (although sometimes I do that too) but I sing worship songs to do just that, worship God. It is for him, for me to tell him that I love him, to thank him, to praise him, to cry out to him.

So that's what I did.


TERMINATE ELABORATION

19 March, 2007

Asthma

So, I have asthma, and have had it for as long as I remember.
I don’t really get it that bad, I used to when I was younger, but I don’t get it as much now.

The church I’ve been brought up in for most of my life is into healing, and so am I.
I’ve been prayed for so many times during my life, by so many different people, in so many different places, for my asthma. I still have asthma.

Why? Is pretty much the question I’m asking here. Some people might say it’s because I have no faith, or the person praying for me has no faith, but what do they know? I have faith for healing, as do the numerous people who’ve prayed for me, and plenty of people who have no faith at all that God will heal them have been healed.

Others would say that God does not want to heal me, but it says in the bible that we have authority over sickness and such, “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on Earth, as it is in Heaven” The kingdom of Heaven-besides being a movie I haven’t seen-is a place where there is no sickness. Your kingdom come… on Earth as it is in Heaven.
My church talks a lot about this sort of verse, and taking authority over sickness.

So, if I have faith, authority, and God’s will, then why aren’t I healed? And why don’t other people get healed sometimes?
Back to the topic of having faith, while I do have faith in miracles, I’m a bit cynical from time to time. I hear stories about miraculous healings, but I find it a bit hard to believe, I mean, how do I know it wasn’t staged? How do I know it’s true? I never knew the sick person. I also have a had time trusting pastors. I know it’s a good thing to sort of challenge them, and not believe every word someone says to you, just because they have a credible position, but I question and challenge everything it seems. My un-trusting-ness, or whatever real word I’m looking for there, is a bit unhealthy.

One thing these pastors and preachers who I have a hard time trusting say to not focus on what God hasn’t done in your life, but focus on what he has done. I’ll try and do that.

I had a thought that maybe God is healing my asthma. In the process of. Because when I get prayed for, sometimes, my asthma goes away for a while. Days, weeks, months. But it eventually comes back. Why? I don’t know. All I know is, I’m confused, and this blog hasn’t helped to sort out my thoughts and make me less confused.

11 March, 2007

Vintage Train

So, yesterday, (yesterday being Saturday) I went to my Pop's farm in good ol' Bairnsdale!

Bree, Nath and I went up there to check it out and see if it was fit for a wedding.
'Twas a long car ride up there, but we stopped for ice cream! (My suggestion...request...order)

Hmm, so we arrived at Le Farm and were glad to be able to stretch our legs, 'ahhhhh...' We ate one of the best dinners I've ever had! OHitwassogood! Mmm... Corned beef, and salad that had pineapple in it, but it was good, and beetroot! I love beetroot. And 'taters.
Dessert=Baked!Custard & Homegrown peaches.

We talked long about Tasmania, and yachts and first fleet convict ancestors, Bree again made suggestions about who I should marry, to which I rolled my eyes.

Then to bed! We all (minus the grandparents) snuggled up in the same bed and sang songs. We all had to shoot ourselves at one stage, unfortunately as 'Lips of and Angel' by Hinder actually managed to process itself in our brains and pass out of our mouths only to enter our ears! Oh the shame! Hate that song. With a passion.
Also, we did sing 'Hakuna Matata' and 'Can You Feel the Love Tonight?'

Then we made jokes about names of characters from Lord of the Rings. I'll see if I can remember any...........
Nah I'm blank, sorry... only ones that come to mind are the not so funny ones... Faramiracle... and Fireman Sam... Oh, and Ahh, when (Arwen) are you gonna stop?

They're really not that funny, but you need the build up, and you need to be having a laughing fit at the time. Sleep. I win. Ha.

Breakfast=Little balls of cantaloupe & passion fruit & best strawberry yoghurt I've ever tasted!
Second Breakfast=Bacon & Eggs & Toast

After breakfast, we explored ze farm. Everything was smaller than I remembered... damn growing up...
Chickens laid one egg.
Shed may be too small for wedding.

Walked down the lane, saw the Heifers and Bulls. We sat on the grass for a while staring at the cows, then went and looked at the half empty dam. Damn. Ha, I'm so funny.
Looked at very cool tree stump we used to play on, next to windmill.
We (Josh, me, Cameron, Christopher-Haven't seen those two for years.) used to play shoot 'em up games. Guess who always won? Not me.


Walked back to farmhouse. Glanced at train carriage, which is the coolest thing ever by the way, it's an old, vintage train carriage that my Pop bought and renovated, so to speak. It has two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, a lounge room (complete with fireplace) and a little front room/foyer/whatever. I wish it were mine. I want it. I must have it.

Something to aspire to. A vintage train carriage owner.

Went down in the cellar. MUCH smaller than I remembered, but still very cool.

That was pretty much the end of that chapter. Drove home (Ice cream again! Bubble O Bill) Had KFC for lunch. Doesn't nearly add up to the farm meals.
I like road trips. It wasn't much of one, three or four hours, but I like it :D Music, fast, wind, sleepy, it's good.

Went to church, was late but oh well. They sung 'I am a Friend of God' or whatever it's called... one of my pronouncedly disliked songs... but I got over it. Will elaborate, eventually.

Daddy was at church so he took me home! Which meant that shy little didn't me have to go up to people who don't live my way and ask for a life. Dammit 'e', why so close to 't'!? ask for a lift, I meant.

Came home. No one home. Lights out. Door WIDE OPEN. Doo doo doo. I was freaked out. Especially when the dogs started barking at a tree in the back yard that seemed to be moving a heck of a lot. So I just rang Holly and talked to her until Bree and Nath came home.

The End

10 March, 2007

Cloud nine.

These clouds are way cool, man.

http://pic1.funtigo.com/valuca/?g=25544746&cr=1

26 February, 2007

They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!

Ha! Love it.

Friendly Friends.

I like having friends, I've discovered.
I've always sort of had friends, I guess, but only recently have I had any real friends.
I've usually been one of the favourites in my friendship groups, I hope I don't sound like I'm bragging or anything, that's just the way it normally is/was. But even though I was the 'favourite', my friends never really cared about me, and loved me. I mean, they'd say they did, but I never really felt it.

Just recently, as in late last year/early this year, have I had any friends who are of great value to me, and treat me like I'm of great value to them. I've always wanted friends like this. Always. And I always wondered why I didn't have fantastic friends, why my friends didn't mean everything to me like they meant everything to other people.
I still don't know the answer to that question.

Having friends who love you is pretty much one of the best things in the world.

The other day, for example, was a time when I felt loved; I'd missed youth on Friday because of Veta camp, and on Sunday night at church, more people than I'd expected commented on how they'd missed me on Friday, and how it was weird that I wasn't there. I know they were just words, but they were said with meaning, and they meant a lot to me.
"Wow, people actually missed me!" I've never had that feeling before.

I've always been really shy, and quiet. I think I assumed that my presence just always goes unnoticed... apparently not so.


One of the strange things is as well, that I don't know if I'd consider myself to be close friends with a lot of these people. That might just be me beating myself up and saying that 'they don't really like you that much', but I don't know them a whole lot... and still, some of the friends and acquaintances I've made recently are the best friends I've ever had.

Music

Hmm..... nothing to really blog about, so here are some bands I've been getting into lately:

Lazy Susan
Damien Rice
Thank you, Chongy

Phoenix
Imogen Heap
Frou Frou
Brooke Frasier
Thank you, Taylor Twins

Hmm... So you should really get into it. Whoever you are.

Also I still love Sufjan Stevens, & Switchfoot & Muse & etc...
I really want Switchfoot's new album, Oh! Gavity.

Doo doo.
END.

21 February, 2007

VETAMORPHUS.
You should all do VETAMORPHUS.
Even though, if you're reading this, the chances are you have already done Veta, as the only people who really even know about my blog are old VETArans.

Ha. I'm awesome.

Anyway, I went on Veta retreat 1. last weekend, and it was good.
The part I thought was the best was actually the bible study of the genealogy of Jesus, which I thought would be boring.
I don't read my bible much, which may be strange considering I'm a 'Christian kid' but it just never really appealed to me, and then I felt bad because at church people would blab on about how reading the bible is essential and blah blah blah.
That's all well and good, I know reading the bible is good, and when I'd feel bad, I'd beat myself up and make stupid promises, like 'I'll read my bible 10 minutes every day.'

Unless you are good at keeping those sorts of promises, don't make them. You just feel bad later.

Anyway, I think the reason I hardly ever read my bible is because I don't know how! Did they teach me in kid's church? No. How about in youth? Maybe, but I don't remember, and there was nothing extensive. Connect groups? Hardly, maybe had the most of the three and still had scarcely anything.

I think there are a lot of Christians out there who don't know how to read the bible. Because no one teaches us. Maybe that's something I should talk to my youth leader about.

Well, we looked deep into the genealogy of Jesus and got so much more out of it than I ever thought we could. I really had no idea that you could look at the bible like that and get so much out of it.
I still don't know exactly how to read the bible, but I expect I'll learn a little from VETAMORPHUS. Coolies.

The part of the camp that wasn't so good was the fact that I didn't know anybody. I knew Digger though, so that was fun.
But everybody seemed to come from the same church or school, and their peer groups had started three weeks before, whereas my group only stared the Wednesday before the camp.
But everyone had their own little clique, and if you joined in their group discussion they talked about stuff back home, that you didn't know about.

I just hate that left out feeling, and feeling awkward standing around seeing the groups of people talk away. It doesn't help that a lot of the other people are loud personalities and I'm extremely shy in situations where I don't know people.
Although one girl, Kristy, saw me one time when I was by myself and asked me if I wanted to join them, so that was nice, she didn't really know anyone either.

Highlights of camp:
1. First bible study.
2. The other sessions were good as well. I like sessions. I'm a sessiony sort of person. I wish teachers were as passionate as the people on camp.
3. The beach. Love the beach. Went swimming in my clothes.
4. Listening to Switchfoot on... Sam's? iPod. (I had a song stuck in my head and I was annoyed that I wasn't going to hear it on the weekend, then I did, and t was satisfying.)
5. Using initiative! I asked Cheryl if they need more singers for worship which they did, so I joined and that was fun.

14 February, 2007

'The measure of a man's real character is what he would do if he knew he would never be found out.'

I read this yesterday in a little lame joke/quote book I have.
What would you actually do if you knew you would never be found out?
What would would you do if you knew you could never be found out by God?

As impossible as that is, it's a scary thought, and I really have no idea what I would do, but I wonder what I would be capable of. I'm generally a follow-the-rules person as a principle, but would my morals stand by me if I knew no one would ever find out what I'd done? Would I still carry the guilt, the shame, if I'd done something terrible?

I'd like to think that I wouldn't do something terrible, but the truth is, I really don't know.

24 January, 2007

Post Mission Blues.

Well, I might have figured it out.
The reason I got Post Mission Blues so bad this year is because I had nothing to go home to.
Sure there was youth, but that's once a week, and school is a downside, not an upside.
When I think about the changes in my life recently, the only reason I didn't want to leave beach mission so much, besides all the great people and kids/teens/families, is because I didn't want to go back home.

I really hate being at home, more than anything right now.
So much so that sometimes I refer to it as 'house' rather than 'home'.
I dread being at home.
It wouldn't be so bad if I could go somewhere to escape, but there's nowhere to go. My bedroom is the size of a box, and I have the privacy of a flea...as unrelated as fleas are...I just wanted to write flea...can we all move on? Good.
I can't drive either. Well, I can, but not by myself.

Anyway, I feel slightly better, to have figured out the deep, dark root of my PMB, but also feel slightly worse to face the fact that I hate it here.

Begin to hope...

22 January, 2007

The Sword is Mightier than the Pen

Haha, I made this movie last year when I was bored, and my media teacher thought it was awesome!
He's only slightly delusional, but hey, what can you do?

21 January, 2007

Would you rather be able to turn invisible, or be able to fly?

I would definitely rather be able to fly.
While I would love to be able to turn invisible and do all sorts of cool things, I think I would end up in a big mess, I would abuse the power.
I was talking about that to someone who'd rather be able to turn invisible than fly, and they said "Yeah, it's not such a big problem for me 'cause I'm not a Christian."
I was talking to him again later, and he said that if you ever want to reach out to someone who's not a Christian, don't call them 'un-saved'. He's been to his sister's youth group a few times, and when he'd talk to people they'd say things like "Oh, so you're unsaved."
What the hell? It just turned him right off, as I'm sure it would turn off anyone who wasn't a Christian.
How would a Christian feel walking into a group of 'un-saved' people if they all said "Oh, so you're a Christian."?
I would hate it.
People are making too much of an 'us and them' of Christians and non Christians, and it's the opposite of effective.

20 January, 2007

Umm, I forgive you?

Dang, I hate it when I'm around people who know I'm a Christian, and they apologize to me for everything they do wrong and every time they swear.
It's as if they've some how offended me, or they feel like I think they're below me.
I don't. At all.
I really don't care if someone swears around me, I'd rather people be themselves than feel like they have to tip toe around me.
I'm a Christian because I believe in God, and the birth, death, resurrection and all that jazz of Jesus, bad words don't really come into my relationship with God.
And I don't feel like I'm above other people just because I believe in God. Not at all.

The thing is, I never tell people off when they swear around me, so why do they feel like they have to apologize?

h cjuiocdfki0i6geefgtfhhyddiolnmbb v bmnhv b v vvbnhjkkkhsdfbnhdfscvbnmhgdzxcbv
... sorry, just felt like typing with this little toy, plastic axe that no one seems to know the origin of...

Anyway, why do they feel like they have to apologize?
I hate how Christians are just put into a tight-ass group by society.
People who put us into groups sometimes annoy me, but not nearly as much as the people who are stereotypical Christians, the people who give everyone else another reason to hate God, even though they themselves claim to love God.
You know the ones?
They ARE judgmental, and they think their way is the best way, and they get uptight about the most stupid things, like Harry Potter, or swearing, which brings me back to the fact that it's these sort of people who put us into these categories, and make others feel like they have to apologize to us...

What an original title.

So, this is my fist blog, not ever, but my first here.
Maybe it's obvious that this is my first blog, but anyway...
I don't know why I'm writing a blog, o why I don't just use MySpace.
I suppose, because I don't really know anyone on here, I don't have to write my blog for them. I do anyway, so what's the point? I always write my blogs for other people. Okay, maybe not specifically for other people, but I always write it based on what others with think. I don't lie, but I'm probably not being exactly true, because I always edit things out to sound like the person I want to be.

I even do this in my journal, I write things down, but I'm always conscious of what people would think reading it, so I write things based on that.
I'm even doing it now. Yes, right this very second. I'm writing this based on how it makes YOU think of me.

Sometimes even my thought patterns are like that. Gosh, how the hell do I make it stop?