stayed up all night talking to sillie people on AIM.
what else was I gonna say?
dunno. cry when i'm laughing.
head shaved, soul saved.

I SHOULD BE FUCKING ABLE TO CHOOSE TO REMOVE MY FUCKING UTERUS IF I FUCKING WANT TO.

why do stupid fucking bratty teenage whores feel the need to pollute otherwise lovelie aRRRt communities with slutty bad-quality webcam stills of themselves edited for 5 seconds with other peoples' brushes/filters/etc. in photoshop? FUCK THEM. fuck them.

worth my weight in sunlight
my brain speaks a different language
than what? than my mouth?

lying spine-up on the cobblestones, sunbathing, my arms crossed under my chin, concentrating on the weight of said sunlight on said spine, he, facing opposite, face five seconds from my own, mirroring my positioning, but when he moves closer I get up & dive back into the pool.
I seem to repeat and re-repeat, sometimes the obvious. but oh yeah!
I HAVEN'T HAD SEX for four months.

my brain speaks a different language than me.
my hair is half-wet, tasting of salt & chlorine, I am at least 3 shades darker after 5 minutes, but now it is raining and dark.

if I stop and listen to that which usually fades, I hear frogs making sounds 10X as bigg as they are. if I do it again, I hear insects Xamillion under the frogs. if I do it again, I hear an Italian movie about a teenage girl who looks like a little boy playing lowly in the loungeroom. if I do it again, I hear thunder miles away. if I do it again, I hear a bird, then another type of bird, and another. if I do it again, I hear the traffic zooming around on the main road. if I do it again, I hear the waves a kilometre away. if I do it again I hear the hum of silence, and if I concentrate on it I can hear voices in it.

& huge crackling thunders! wowie! 2 second long bright-as-days.

I have problems with time perception. when remembering a recent thing I can't tell the difference if it was yesterday or two weeks ago. when remembering a today thing I can't tell if it was half an hour or 10 hours ago.

so anyway: if you had to choose between boiled chickenfeet, raw sheepbrains & fried fisheyes, which would you eat?
do you think yourself as a positive or negative person? & does it differ from what others think of you?
what do you think about when you masturbate?
WHAT COLOUR IS THE SKY where you are?
where will you be in 20years?
what are your best & worst personality traits.. according to you?
WHAT THE FUCK IS FREEDOM?
why do you lie?
& finally, the one that started them all: if you drive, do you/would you flash your headlights at oncoming cars to warn them of a speedtrap ahead?

THAT IS ME on the bus with one of my 8 bottles of water per second.
or is it day?

that is a FUCKED UP THING

& so is that.

LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING
I lost my camera. I left it at the beach, on a coffee table made of sand and coffee.
I saw a mermaid jump out of a wave & grab it,
now she's taking pictures of giant squidds wearing anemone wiggs.

so I scanned my BUTT.
and.. and FUCK.

I'd asked an old man if he'd mind if I took a picture of the back of his neck.
and he got OFFENDED and stalked off.

so the last thing I took a picture of was a stupid brat
WHOSE OWN MOTHER CALLED HER A SLUT

and I coloured in my pictures from yesterday.

ONE OF YOU ROYALLY FUCKED UP MY FRIENDS PAGE.








































fucker.

The other week (at least two weeks ago), I was walking to the bus stop. I walk to the bus stop often. I shut the front door, checked that it was locked, cut across the garden to cross the road, and nearly stepped on this:

Trust me, it was a lot huger, heavier, bloodier and smellier than it looked. Actually it wasn't smellie yet, but my mind thought it must've been, cause it was dead, so perceived the smell anyway, despite there being none.

I went inside and got some garbage bags. I couldn't just leave it on my lawn. It was somebody's great white pet. So after taking its picture, I struggled for half an hour to get it into a garbage bag without touching it. It was covered in bugs. People drove past every 5 seconds and made a point of scowling at me. I didn't kill it, I don't even have a CAR, I'm missing my bus so I can remove its ROTTING PRESENCE FROM YOUR SIGHT, so FUCK OFF.

I went and woke up my neighbour so he could drive the dead cat & me to the tip. He got all mad & told me to throw it in the garbage can. I said, "I can't sleep at night knowing there's a dead Buddha in my garbage can!"

So, we got to the tip, & waited for ten minutes for someone to come to the window at the drive-in spot. She acted all sympathetic when he told her we had a dead cat, & then told us we had to drive to the tip on the OTHER side of town so they could bury it. My brain screamed, "It's not even my fucking dead cat!" but my mouth smiled & thanked her, the traitorous thing.

Feeling quite guilty at this point, I said to my neighbour "Let's go to YAPS (something beginning with Y Animal Protection Society) instead and see if they'll take it, 'cause YAPS must have dead cats every day." Well, it being 7am or something, fucking YAPS was closed, of course. For my 50th bright idea of the day, I said, "park in that there carpark, cowboy, & pop the trunk." or something along those lines, minus the cowboy part, & I probably said "open the boot" rather than "pop the trunk," but anyway.

I was dragging the dead cat bag out of the boot/trunk, when a big fat lady pulled up out the front and started wandering around, staring at me. Then I noticed we were in the STAFF car park. I rather hurriedly shut the trunk/boot and hauled the dead cat bag over to a nearby dumpster. At this point the big fat lady started marching purposefully over, so I dropped it in and ran back to the car.

That's all.

Just so you know: my cat's name is Buddha. I never say "fuck," I just think it a lot. and when I speak to my neighbour, I stutter & drool 5 times a second, because I never say Anything.

I am in a dormitory again. my first lecture is in 13 hours, and it is for anthropology. i'm sure that 10 miles deep in the bubbles of my lungs is some small remnant of enthusiasm.

my roommate is a boy. he has exhibited the dullest of personalities, but is androgynously black-hair'd, and has a scrapbook of collages that I have already stolen.

my biggest wish today is that I could adequately explain my dream. if I rolled my eyes to the back, they dissolved, and eventually reformed a different colour. I could see it as it happened as though I was simply wearing eye-patterned kaleidoscope goggles. I remember exactly how I looked with blue eyes. for a time my skin was the texture of over-ripe lemons. I made that last part up.

you know how you can post so that only you can see it, and you can post so that only those on your friends list can see it, and you can post so everyone can see it. well I wish you could post so that everyone except those on your friends list could see it.

if we usually comment on your every (or occasional) entry & haven't been, it's because a) we're hugely busy back at school and b) we've lost track of you. we get many of you mixed up. there are too many girls with long dark hair that I think I have a crush on and then realise it's the other three girls with long dark hair I have crushes on, and there are too many "unconventional angle and colour scheme" photographers; I see a photograph and am about to comment with "you're improvingX100s!* & then I realise i'm thinking of some other three photographers, and there are too many "bad-quality high-contrast attempting to be sexy" webcam still posters, who sometimes we want to remove altogether & sometimes adore & swoon over their innocent virgin angelness.

don't be offended. I'm off medication. OR HADN'T YOU NOTICED?

i'm behind on my emails, and on my silly webdesign jobs, but I still found time to write a tagboard script for no real purpose, and to win a dozen my little ponies on ebay, INCLUDING A BIG PINK SOFTIE ONE, WOO.

I had two lectures in a row in the same theatre yesterday, so after the first one ended and everyone swarmed towards the two tiny doors at the front I sat and waited for the next one to begin. There is a ten-minute gap between classes. The girl behind me did the same. Ten minutes later a handful of people had drifted in one by one and were waiting. Five minutes into what was supposed to have been a sociology lecture the girl behind me tapped me on the shoulder and whispered "This is SY1001, isn't it?" I had tilted my head back to look at her upside down but still managed to nod. After another five minutes I took out my timetable to check, because lecturers are never late, but the lecture was there. The right theatre, the right time. I sat and stared at the timetable for another five minutes until I noticed that this particular lecture was only scheduled for week 19, when the rest were scheduled for weeks 8-21. I turned around and shouted (which, for me, involves talking above a mumble) "does anyone have a timetable?" No one did. So I told them there was no lecture and walked out, feeling REALLY STUPID, but that's okay because everyone else there was stupid too, and at least I thought to PRINT OUT A TIMETABLE.

But I made friends with the girl who was behind me except can't remember her name because it's a complicated Japanese one, and I sat next to a girl who looked vaguely familiar today and she said "did you go to Cairns High?" and I said "yes," and she said "Georgia's friend, right?" and I said "yes, Jessica." and she said "riiight, the eccentric one. I'm Jo." and I was like wow, big fucking deal, and moved to the other side of the room. Not really. I smiled and said "hi, Jo, don't you hate stats?" 'cause that was what the class was. I HATE STATS. and she didn't say "the eccentric one" because I smoke bubble pipes in class or anything, but because I was voted most eccentric my senior year in highschool. but really, it didn't take much to be eccentric, since they were ALL either bright-n-bold preps, or vegan hippies with the same long wavy blonde hair and home-made clothes and shoulder bags with sequins and nose rings who came up all stoned asking "are you, like, Goth?" I don't blame them, 'cause they were all BURNOUTS.

I wear black because I HAVE BRAIN ISSUES WITH COLOUR. it's the only colour I don't see patterns and/or words & numbers in, and it's sometimes the only colour I can see. and it doesn't reflect in my skin! If I wear red I feel like I'm turning red.

I'm at my mother's, and Chris is trying to fix the fence, I'm watching through the window. Lila keeps jumping on his back and biting the back of his head. She's such a crazy person, and Chris is such a pushover. He keeps saying "Li-Laaah, Go Awaaaay," in a tone which grows steadily more and more annoying in its repetitiveness. HE REALLY ANNOYS THE SHIT OUT OF ME. He can't open a door without letting Buddha OUT AND letting Lila IN, and then it takes him an hour to catch them both and return them to their respective rightful places. WHY? WHY? YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE? If we're both in the office and he turns around to ask my opinion on something and I just ignore him, even though there's NO POSSIBLE WAY I could possibly have not HEARD him, he turns back around and says nothing more! If you're in a bad mood and unnecessarily take it out on him by calling him a shit-faced FUCKWIT, HE SHRUGS AND WALKS AWAY! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? If he asks you as pleasantly as possible to help him with something and you scream "GET AWAY FROM ME YOU DRAWLING RETARD," at the top of your lungs, he says "okay," in the mildest of tones and simply GOES ABOUT HIS BUSINESS. There's more. He blesses me every single fucking time I sneeze, and I SNEEZE ABOUT A BILLION TIMES A MINUTE, ONE AFTER THE OTHER. HE ASKS ME A KAZILLION TIMES A DAY "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" or "is everything alright?" IF EVERYTHING WASN'T ALRIGHT YOU'D ALREADY FUCKING KNOW ABOUT IT!!
GOD!
Of course I can't SAY ANYTHING about it to him, because I don't control my MOUTH! I CAN WRITE ABOUT IT THOUGH! HAHAHA!

The thing that's really annoying me about this semester is that I'm a semester behind, because I did the second semester of the first year twice, rather than the first and second semesters of the first year, because I quit for two years to MOVE ACROSS THE WORLD AND FOR SOME FUCKED UP REASON MARRY A STRANGER. So now I'm in my second year, but surrounded by stupid first year's, doing stupid first year courses which are half TEACHING YOU HOW TO WRITE ESSAYS AND DO REFERENCES. YEAH. FUCK. I'VE DONE A WHOLE YEAR OF THAT SHIT already, as if I didn't know it BEFOREhand.

And the psych lecturer today. MY GOD. You know that stereotypical lecturer who drones on in a continuous, unbreaking monotone? THAT'S HIM. Except he has white hair to his waist and wears no shoes. IT TOOK HIM HALF A BLOODY HOUR TO TELL US TO CHECK OUR EMAIL. HE REPEATS EVERYTHING 50 FUCKING TIMES. he speaks like he's a dinosaur.

Oh my fucking God. Chris just walked past in a speedo. All   thought   drained   in a haze of retchful disgust.

The other week/month Lila was vomiting all over the place. As soon as she ate she'd puke a billion times, and instead of jumping all over me and attempting to rip my face off every time I went outside she'd just lie there for an hour & then docilely amble over & put her head on my foot. So I took her to the vet, which was overrun with primary school kids in primary school uniforms for some reason, and the vet probed her in 50 different ways & said he couldn't feel any obstructions & had she had all her shots? Has she eaten anything strange? "She eats everything strange," I said, she eats EVERYTHING. I PICK TICKS OFF HER AND THROW THEM AWAY AND SHE FUCKING EATS THEM. And then I remembered that two days before, she'd picked up a huge chunk of plastic wrap while I was walking her and swallowed it whole. So he was all "well take her home & don't feed her & if she's still sick tomorrow we'll have to gut her which is sooooo expensive." And then I forgot my PIN while paying by EFTPOS (HAHA, YOU STUPID AMERICANS DON'T HAVE EFTPOS, YOU SUCK I HATE YOU), but anyway she got better. The next day she ate a whole dead decomposing stinky WORMY BIRD, FEATHERS, FEET, BEAK & ALL.

Then, another day, I was on the esplanade and I thought I saw some strange girl walking her, which is totally weird because she's a freaky looking mongrel. So I finally realised it was some other dog who just looked like Lila, & I jumped up & ran over & said "what kinda dog is that?" and she smiled patronisingly and said "it's a husky cross rottweiler," like she got asked all the time, because I GET ASKED ALL THE TIME when walking Lila 'cause she looks like a husky & then like a doberman & then like an alsation. DO YOU KNOW WHAT AN ALSATION IS, YOU STUPID HICK? Anyway, I said "omfg! I have the same dog!" and she was like "oooo!" and I said "did you get him from Cairns Central?" and she said "No, we got him from the owners 'cause we knew them but they did take the rest to Cairns Central." and I was all "Wow! I have your dog's sister!" So we compared their personalities, and WHY DID I HAVE TO GET THE MANIAC FREAKAZOID ONE? Hers was all quiet and nice. But he looked more like a rottweiler than Lila does, which is uglier, 'cause her face is all pointy and nice.

Chloe is my other dog & she's a big fat border collie & is lovelie & perfect except she likes to attack little kids who pat her, & she once ripped open my neighbour's leg as he dived into the pool, which wasn't her fault 'cause she's a SHEEPDOG & it's INSTINCT for her to chase diving things.

I always peek into peoples' living rooms when they've got the lights on and the curtains open at night time, and on the bus I always look through the cracks in peoples' fences into their backyards, and I reckon about 98% of backyards in this city have pools in them. Which is cool. My mumm's started flying again & is going to renew her license so when I go flying with her I'll count the pools, AND WILL BE SURE TO REPORT BACK how many.

The other personalities are squeamish about posting such a stupid awful nojess entry but I don't care. DO YOU KNOW WHAT NOJESS MEANS? you do not, you filthy scumbag liar.

THINGS I REMEMBER FROM BEING SEVEN:
- Getting the newly-painted-pink second-hand bike for my birthday and dad taking me to the football oval to learn to ride it.
- Having the kiddie train carriage behind me jacknife & land on my head & then being rushed to hospital while yelling "no I don't wanna go I wanna ride the train again!"
- Staying out in the playground with my friends after the end-of-lunch bell until our teacher came looking for us and lined us up the front of the classroom and told us to bend over so he could wack us on the butt with his big black-board ruler BUT HE ONLY PRETENDED TO WACK US.
- Mumm giving me my first Enid Blyton book which was "The Enchanted Wood" and since then I'VE READ EVERY SINGLE ONE.
- The evil babysitter who gave us dry toast and water as a snack and let her daughter beat us up and then yelled at us for complaining about it.
- My dad coming home drunk from a policeman's party at which he won a meat platter in a raffle and he left the meat platter out on the porch all night long and when mumm & my sister & I came home from visiting my nanna we found the meat platter there all rotten with flies.
- Going fishing on the ocean with my friend Michelle with the curly white hair & her big brother, & I caught a shark, & the brother said "it's only a baby, throw it back," and I said no! I caught it it's mine! and the rest of the day every time the boat rocked I thought it was the mother shark coming to attack us & save her baby.
- I used to stuff the sandwiches my mumm made me for lunch under my bed, & I came home one day & there was a huge grey rat lying dead at the front door, & dad said "I found that under your bed eating those mouldy sandwiches" & ever since then I've had a fear of rats under my bed so I would never put my feet down in case the rats bit them.

My parents got divorced when I was nine, and I was happy.

GRAMMAR MISTAKES THAT REALLY PISS ME OFF:
- When people say "might of" rather than "might have."
- When people use "whom" just to use it because hardly anyone knows how to use it and they want to seem like they know how to use it. HERE'S A TRICK SO YOU KNOW WHEN TO USE IT, IT'S EASY: Use "who" when it goes with "he," and "whom" when it goes with "him." For example: He is speaking and Who is speaking go together, and To whom am I speaking and To him am I speaking/I am speaking to him go together. GET IT? IT'S NOT THAT HARD IS IT?
- Semi-colons. You can't just eradicate them because you don't know how to use them, and you can't just use them in place of commas for the sake of using them.
- Sarah and I. "AND ME" IS NOT ALWAYS INCORRECT. You wouldn't say "That pie is for I" (well, would), so don't say "That pie is for Sarah and I."
- The use of "his or her" over and over and OVER and over. While not a mistake, it's still FUCKING ANNOYING. You can use "their" as an asexual pronoun, despite it being plural, IT'S WIDELY ACCEPTED AND NOW CONSIDERED GRAMMATICALLY CORRECT. EVEN JANE AUSTIN DID IT. There are entire WEBSITES dedicated to it.
- whose and who's. whose is possessive, who's is the same as it's. IT'S A CONTRACTION. WHO'S IS NOT POSSESSIVE.

I'm hungry. Time to go get fish & chips.