Wednesday, September 17, 2008

a night on the town

tonight, i'm going to wear my hair up, and a dress.

i'm going to do what i please, and talk to strangers. i'm going to leave the restaurant early and go to the bar, because i feel like spending the money i don't have on alcohol, not food. yesterday i ate nothing but chocolate. i jammed large chunks into my mouth with no regrets, and let it melt.

i'm going to wear a dress because i'm tired of being blasé, tired of being depressed. at least this gives my legs something to aim for. magnificence.

and even if i don't get there, i'm going to tell myself i don't care. and for once in my life i'm going to tell myself to believe it.


i'm unmotivated. depressed. failing to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

honours is getting me down this week. i spent six weeks dedicated to my last assignment - researching, forming my methodology, begging for meetings with my supervisors and making stuff up in the interim. my first supervisor is ok, he doesn't have much idea of an end point, but painstakingly feeds me minute aliquots of information i would have benefited from weeks prior. my second supervisor? we had a meeting this week. prior to that, i haven't seen or heard from her in six weeks - she's had a full teaching load. to you, i say pish. you are my supervisor and you should damn well act like one. i run the depression monopoly around here. i have an assignment on giardia - for those of you who don't know, its a parasite that likes your insides, and you find it in poo. of marsupials, among numerous other animals. and that's what some lovely researchers have spent their time doing - analysing poo. sounds just like my life. honours is a fun time. and this assignment tops it - i just can't get motivated about poo. told you i was depressed.

to top it off, i'm not happy where i'm living as i can't prove my address to get youth allowance, as my landlord (who is unfortunately an old friend) wants a tax break by not reporting my rent as income. so i can't pay my rent, but he fails to see that as a lose-lose situation. don't make your problems my problems, he says. i'm better friends with his little brother than i have been with him in years. i'm getting a job next week. call centres need to die in a burninating chemical fire.

i could have been living in a huge nerd mansion down the gold coast in wanksville - which, no, wouldn't have made me any less depressed, but there's always something heartening about being depressed whilst swanning by a marble-encrusted pool next to a bullshark-infested canal. and why am i not there? why am i such a depressive, disheartened cynic? because people can't commit.

me, my parents always taught me that if you commit to something, you have to go through with it. which is why i guess i'm still at uni, and living in a house i can't afford. the irony is... ironic. i don't know why it frustrates me so to see this ability so lacking in other people, but it makes me want to shake them. from the people who pulled out of the mansion the day we were to sign the lease so that noone got to play in the theatre room or with the huge pool table, to my supervisor who volunteered to manage an honours student, knowing full well she was already manically busy educating the ignorant. add to that the fact that she can't organise her way out of a wet paper bag - i want to shake her. and not like a polaroid picture. in a bad, bad, incarcerable way. the most exciting thing that's ever happened to her, which she bragged about at a dinner party (to which those other students were not invited - no, really? they're not on your project - they don't expect to be invited to your home, but to specifically uninvite them is just rude) is that our good prime minister k-rudd's daughter has made breakfast in her kitchen. good for her. clap clap for the handicap.

just call me a cynic.

i'm listening to missy higgins - the sound of white. she's got such a fabulous grasp of the human condition - its sad music, but it always puts me at peace. through identification of her lyrics, her music, or an almost pathological dislike of her chin cleft, she calms my storm. her emotion astounds me.

a good friend asked me on the weekend why i had 'sad eyes'. as we were out to dinner, i brushed it off. i need to have a good chat to him. he knows me too well - its scary. as it is, the majority of a block of old gold jamaica rum and raisin chocolate has made its way into my system today - a fact that makes me feel better, and the damage of which is negated by the half hour i spent on the stair master last night.

so here i sit, sad music, sad face, sad bank balance, sadly empty packet of chocolate, and tragically empty document that needs to be filled with a critique on poo. gotta love it.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

lullabies and smiles

i was thinking to myself last night, as my lover sang me a lullaby from a hundred kilometres away at two in the morning - i've learned a lot.

from each friend, from each random encounter, from those i love and loved and hated, i've learned a little something, and somehow all those little things have brought me here.

from aaron, i learned the beginnings of sex, in naiive and shy baby steps. and you i thank for beginning me on a journey of discovery. from amy, i learned to listen, to value true friends, and to be humble. you i thank also, for teaching me what not to do. from elizabeth i learnt simplicity, dedication to true friendship, and the words to too many songs. thanks go to her, for innocence and patience. from rohan, sweetness, and fascination with intelligence. you, i thank for teaching me politics, maturity, and to have a good long look at myself periodically. tegan taught me to embrace my impetuosity, to explore my identity, and not to care what others think. you i thank for showing me to embrace the crazy. from adam i learnt to trust my instincts, and not to acquiesce. thank you, adam, for showing me how to better myself. from aron i learnt how to give my all to a person, and how to get it back. he taught me love, loss, regret and the meaning of true friendship. so thankyou. alex gave me a love of fast cars, and a hatred of fast men. thankyou for helping me to find myself in difficult times. from maddie i learnt to love myself, and to be beautiful. to you i give thanks for friendship. dariush taught me to be carefree, to cherish my inner child, and to find good in everyone, even after the fallout. thankyou for teaching me so much, for lullabyes, and for your family. everyone needs to learn about inlaws some time. thanks to your mother, for showing me that some people will always have issues with the unchangeable. thankyou for showing me i can't change people. to dominic reminded me to love myself, my impetuosity, my sexuality, and to be thankful for short but good times. katie, to you i give thanks and regrets, for teaching me the importance of family, and its omnipotence. christian taught me to embrace art, to experiment, to be content with what i have. my thanks to you. to liam, i thank you from the bottom of my heart, for an unlikely friendship, for teaching me patience, dedication, and laughter in the face of adversity.

from each of these and more, tiny facets of my life are forever stamped with their influence. in my life, my love, my friends, i see their influence daily.

my ridiculously intelligent, brave, dedicated, shy, second-guessing, long-eyelashed boy with a sweet inner child, a secret love of impetuosity and an appreciation for art, music, sex and love - this is the culmination of what i've learnt, who i've become. i am so lucky to have found someone who embodies my desires, my lessons learnt, my needs. so to my friends, i thank you for my happiness.