"Follow-up on Follow-through" from 04.12.15

It's nice to feel a rush of ambition when you come upon your next greatest idea. But I know that all too often, I let it come to null without pursuing it. I can't let it happen again.

I am all fanciful ideas and wishful thinking. I am made of endless possibilities without the solid planning or guts to follow through. It's nice to have dreams, but to just have dreams is worthless. You have to act on them, bring them into reality, accomplish them

I have to do something about this. I don't want it to just slip through my fingers again. It's time to take some accountability for myself.

"Dying" from 02.12.15

It's hard to watch someone you love die. Not just physically but psychologically. They just don't have the capacity for anything anymore. There's no more passion. Life is just tolerable. It's hard to hear someone say that they feel like they're done with life, especially when you own has just barely begun.

You just have to swallow the pain and treasure the time you spend with them, the smiles they crack, the stories they tell (even if it is the third time today). Because their body's being worn down and small tasks have become a struggle. They feel trapped by their stiff limbs and failing organs. Spend time with them because you don't really know how much of it they have left.

"Twenty-Four" from 01.12.15

I will preface this with a note that I wouldn't describe what we have right now as love. This is returned feelings of attachment at best and mutual pining at worst. But I don't need to love you to know this:

I miss you when you're not around. I miss you right now for that matter, which is a bit sad, considering that I saw you less than twenty-four hours ago. In fact, this time last night, you had your arm around my shoulders and my beating heart at your side. So I sound kinda petty claiming to miss you. I realise that.

You're one of the only people who can truly make me blush a little, because you make me a little unsure of myself sometimes. I sound like a hypocrite all the time because I make bold claims, only to too often cave in when you smirk at my proud statements. I feel like I have to prove my independence and individuality when I'm around you, as though to prove that I don't need you; I'm perfectly capable on my own.

It doesn't make me want you any less.

"Audio Aesthetic" from 28.11.15

I just have hours of music in my head. It churns around in there, waiting for me to accidentally start tapping my toes and open my mouth before tumbling out on top of itself.

We always seem to form attachments to music with lyrics we can relate to. We belt them on bad days and hum them on good days. But what about the songs that just... sound nice?

They don't have any particular meaning per se, but the beat sticks with you and you catch yourself murmuring the melody under your breath. Their sound is not wasted on you. An "audio aesthetic" if you will.

Just glimpses of grey puddles and plaid school skirts to accompany a lazy guitar strum. The give you a glimpse of a moment that didn't exist, unlike anything else.

"wtf is this even" from 27.11.15

I already feel like I've done so much. It's literally only been two days and yet feels like a lifetime. A million different emotions have washed over me and changed me.

It is not time that matures us, but experience. Age is not real, not truly; it is but a construct of humanity to hold a standard that doesn't exist. Sixteen years old is meaningless, there are ten year olds who have lived more than they. Experiences require time, yes. But time does not require experience.

"Summer Dreams" from 23.11.15

I'm standing on the edge. I'm ready to go. Summer storms are already drifting in as though to tease the coming months. The heavy humidity hangs in the air, relenting only under the guise of the night sky and cold rain.

What I have left yet to do is the most important, and yet the easiest to ignore in the rush for the break. Is it any surprise that so many just don't show up?

I am jumpy, stressed even, too willing to leave it all behind for eight sweet weeks. My knees shake a little. I have been preparing for this for so long.

But when sweet release arrives, what will I really do with it? I wish not to squander my precious freedom on useless experiences or simple choices that I could make anytime. 

I want this summer to mean something.

"oh shit" from 23.11.15

I've done it.

I've reached the point at which I desperately worry about what you think of me. I know that I'm annoying and stress a lot and you just seem so much more in control.

I spent my time trying to convince you that I'm annoying. I warned you that I was difficult. And now that I've already let myself get attached, I'm starting to believe my own words.

I'm not even sure if you life me anymore. Maybe I've screwed it all up somehow.

I wish desperately that I didn't care. But I do anyway. And it's tearing me up inside. 

"Possibility" from 22.11.15

I could've kissed him.

I didn't.

But I could have.

I'm not really sure if I regret it or not. I just recognise that there was opportunity for it to happen. For the first time ever.

We were there and it just hit me like a ton of bricks. I made a split second decision and here I am now.

I'm quite happy where I am now. I'm content with what I have, for the moment. But the question is: Would I be happier if I had more? Would it be overwhelming? I already have so many thoughts and feelings in my head that it's a little overwhelming. Do I really want more? Could I handle more?

So for now, I'll say I don't regret it. But maybe later that will change.

"Should've known" from 18.11.15

I should've known you'd understand.

I feel like that whole chapter of my year has just had a light turned on.

It's no longer a part I hold in my heart as something cold and isolated.

In a way it belongs to both of us now. But not too much.

But mostly I'm glad that I took the plunge to talk about this. If I hadn't, I would have just brought this up later in a worse situation where it would have played out differently. Maybe we both would have left with some more scars.

But here we are. I'm glad it turned out this way.

"Old wounds, not scars" from 18.11.15

I am scratching up old wounds and simply staring at the blood that pools.

Surely soon, I will feel the pain that I am so clearly digging for. It will come and I can numb it out with my decided ignorance. I can numb it out of my life again.

I shouldn't've pulled at my scars. I should've known that they weren't really scars, just cuts in my skin that I chose to ignore. I should've just lived in bliss and pretended they never existed. 

Now that I've grown, I can see that simply ignoring them won't work again. They'll just become easier and easier to break open again until their sharp sting is all I ever feel.

If I let it fester, it will take over that which I have built since then on it's feeble ruins.

This time I need to air it out and let the fresh water sting it so I can be free of its hold on me.

"Leave" from 18.11.15

You were quite charming
But I was egotistical.
I was independent.
You were after something I just didn't have to offer.
So you left.
I cried.
I didn't understand
Why that meant that you couldn't enjoy what I did offer.
I grieved for myself and the person I was not.

You came back.
I was confused.
I still am.
I don't want you to leave
But I don't want to have to change for you to stay.

"Bitter" from 18.11.15

I'm still bitter from time to time.
I read my old words
With their guise of carefree indifference
With their pain lost in sending.
When I read them
I feel their anger swell in my heart
I see their passive aggressive undertones
I hear my heart break again
I look desperate
I look bitter
I look like I'm trying to mop up the water in a river.

It was never going to work.
So I let that anger go
I let myself feel only disappointed resignation.
I will not let myself become that person again.
I am different now.
But that bitterness will still sit inside.

Untitled from 18.11.15

I looked over out past conversations
And suddenly I was reminded.
You say you would never hurt me
But you already have.
You might not remember
Four weeks of bitter silence
Three messages on Three separate days, all ignored
Two months of our social interaction falling just short of a dialogue
One heart I had to learn to mend on my own

But I remember.

So I will be wary of your warm words
For they can easily turn to fire or to ash.
I want not to have to mend my heart again.

Untitled from 13.11.15

I would say I'm falling for you, but that wouldn't be strictly true. It's more like I'm sliding down a really long slippery slide, where I can't really see the bottom yet and every so often I grab the sides and stop myself. Because I'm afraid.

But every so often I let myself slide a little further down without really noticing. Because it's scary but it's fun as well and I know the only other way is to go back up and probably never look down again. And I don't want that.

Because I really like you. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have bothered to get this far. I'm just terrified of what awaits me at the bottom and what the people I hold close will say. Because the words of strangers are meaningless to me, but my biggest fear is letting down the people I love.

And so even though my fear may be in vain, it's still unknown and that's enough to set me on edge. But just because it's scary doesn't mean that it's not what I'm gonna go for, because for some strange reason, maybe I'm falling for you anyway...

"Visual Theatre" from 10.11.15

A sharp intake of breath. The light dims as the curtain on the window is drawn shut. The fan wobbles slightly as it spins lazily, enough that it doesn't cause dizziness, should you deign to stare at it.

Patience. The first beat has not yet fallen so no-one moves. White dresses almost illuminate the darkness in the still. The shiny pieces of plastic hang from the ceiling; it feels like a spider's web, silky threads hanging everywhere. It feels like a witches' coven, with empty eyes staring straight into the darkness. They're just...waiting. You're already too close to get away.

It won't come to a fight, but if it did, you would lose. They have a plan and you have nothing but the blind obedience that brought you this far. You have no idea what to expect, and yet you have to be prepared for anything.

"Unlikely Possibilities" from 06.11.15

If you kissed me, I might kiss you back. I mean, there is the small obstacle of that fact that I have no clue as to how kissing works, but provided that I got over that obstacle, I'm sure it could work out fine.

The point is, I really like you. More than I've ever liked anyone before. And I have no idea what that means for me or you, but I know that this is a new feeling for me. It's possible that I've grown more in the past few months than in the eight ones preceding them. A whole different experience has been my life and it's changed me as a person.

Relationships are complicated, I know this much. There's so many factors that are at play and their difficult nature is offputting to me. I don't want to get hurt or let you down. I'm cautious of letting myself fall where I've seen so many others break in the process.

"Window" from 02.11.15

The night air smells cold. This might sound stupid, but it's true. There's no overpowering smell of dust or rain or smoke. It just smells crisp as it filters through my flyscreen. I'm sure if you tried, you could pull some metaphor out of it all, but for now, I just enjoy the refreshing sensation flood my senses.

For a fleeting moment I feel trapped within the walls of the stuffy house, longing for the feeling of smooth cement under my feet and my hair whipping around my face. Not you typical "teenage dream", granted, but just as vivid. The moment passes and I go back to my original plan.

I'm meant to be closing the window, but I decide to drink in the crisp scent for a moment longer. I pretend it's washing me, forgiving me. I smile and close the window.

"Night Air" from 01.11.15

The darkness made you feel brave.

The late night air filled your lungs and the only light was the dull glow of the outdoor lamps around the other side of the house. Courage swelled in your heart as I smiled. There was some witty back and forth on our tongues and a glimmer of flirt in our eyes.

You didn't flinch when we touched, in fact, you shoved me right back. I felt like an exception, exempt from the rules because I mean something to you, in that moment at least.

I still didn't really interact with you the way I wanted, but the night air didn't really affect me the same way as you. The darkness made me giddy and your touch ignited my joy. I feel like they could've asked me anything, and in that moment, I would've let my heart pour out. But they asked all the wrong questions, so I guess they'll just go on not knowing...

"CA" from 25.10.15

Having your approval makes this whole situation much less daunting. I trust you, like, a lot and your opinion means a lot to me because you are so strong of character and someone whose morals I admire. Your objective reflection and steadfast support make me feel more secure in each step I take and the more I trust you with stuff, the more I'm glad I do.

You've not once let me down yet.

"Lean" from 25.10.15

I wanted to lean into you this morning, but I honestly felt like it'd screw everything up more than I already have. I don't know why, but I feel so much more comfortable flirting with you when our friends are around. May it's because when we're alone, the prospect of a relationship seems so much more daunting. With our friends, our support squad is right there, cheering us on.

I'm thankful you're not turning on me. I honestly thought you might when I told you that I couldn't be in a relationship right now. But you stuck around.

I don't want to put the extra pressure of a relationship on myself when I can't really control or understand my feelings right now. But I do know that I really like you...

"A Tale of Two...People" from 13.10.15

There was once a girl and a boy, who very much shared the opportunity to fall in love. But circumstance kept them skirting around it, with each of them only darting toward relationship before pulling back again.

She was scared, inexperienced, out of her depth. She'd never before this moment been so close to the warmth of romance. She was cautious, patient, but jumpy and worrisome.

He was confident, clever, persistent. But sometimes he got mixed messages and held back. He was never really sure what she was thinking and found it hard to read the situation. He was patient, kind, but deterred and confused.

Their story has not yet reached a resolution; their resolution is Schrodinger's resolution, both happy and sad, still with endless possibility.

from 13.10.15

"I had a strange dream about kissing you. But the strangest thing was that it was my daydream."

"At Home" from 11.10.15

For the little amount of time we spend together, whenever we do, I feel so at home. You just seem to understand me.

So as we sit in the unrelenting sun and complain about friends and school, I feel the most at ease I have in a long time. There's no filter anymore, no constant background thought chains dictating every sentence.

We share with open hearts and I real sense of "screw it". What could the other do with our secrets anyway?

If I had to describe it, I would say that this is a moment in which I felt truly alive.

"icy" from 10.10.15

Being frozen out is painful. Not the physical sort of pain, the emotional sort of pain. I find it emotionally taxing to feel alone, disconnected from my friends. I get a creeping reflection on everything. It get a little bitter about it. I turn my music up a little more; I turn inward a little more.

But there's always someone willing to thaw you out, provided that you're willing to defrost your hardened heart. Move a little closer together and let the warmth of connection evaporate the puddles left from the ice. But most importantly, don't become a snap freezer. Let things run their path in due time with out a frosty grasp on your heart.

"Of Twigs and Dust" from 09.10.15

When you ignore me, I worry that you don't like me. I know that you don't mean to ice me out, but it's one of the reasons I know I'm falling for you. If I didn't really like you, I wouldn't really care if you moved on; I might even prefer it. But I worry about how you feel about me, much to my dismay.

I want you to like me. I over-analyse comments and gestures to the extreme. I care more than I'm used to. I'm falling and I keep trying to break it, but all in vain. My fingers are grasping at twigs and dust, and I'm incredibly aware if it all. So when you don't hear me, I freak, because I know I'm gonna hurt when I hit the bottom.

Untitled from 08.10.15

I think about you more than I'm willing to admit. I'm really independent, so I guess that's a bit of a big deal. Sometimes when you pop into my head I try to push it out. "I'm totally being obsessive," is just one of many excuses. (Others include, "I thought I didn't need anyone else!" or "I'm being creepy.")

But I do care about you and it makes me vulnerable. You're a weakness in my cold stone security in myself and I feel like anyone could hurt me through that. I just hope that you don't.

Untitled from 07.10.15

I feel stressed

Success feels within reach

But my arm is tired

So I don't even try

I am useless

"Falling" from 06.10.15

I guess I've only just realised now that I'm falling for you, just a tiny little bit. People are starting to pair off and I think that part of the reason I was so content on my own was that I convinced myself that it was for the best. I honestly never thought that this would happen to me. I never thought that maybe I would like someone and they would like me back.

Growing up, I only ever liked one guy and retrospectively I realise that it never would have really worked. We both moved on and that was the end of that. I was never really interested in anyone else and maybe I was right, it was for the best but now I have a chance that is slightly hard to comprehend. 

So I guess what I'm saying is that if I seem a little out of my depth it's because I never considered that someone would fall for me, let alone that I would fall also.

"A Taste of Freedom" from 05.10.15

It feels like it will only be a breath away. Eight weeks of classes and then I'm free, properly this time. Stress-free life is just a gasp away, a touch away, It's beginning to feel like a real, tangible idea, rather than an abstract concept.

How can two weeks feel so different in length? One, full of clamour and bustle, sees the weekend fade into nostalgia, a distant memory romanticised by age. The other, seemingly wasted on crap television and giggles shared with friends, feels like it could've been yesterday. (It was five days ago, actually.) Nothing was really achieved, but you regained hope in yourself, which is just as valuable in the scheme of your life. 

"The Trials of Actually Caring" from 04.10.15

My life would be much easier if I didn't care what you thought about me. I wouldn't waste time worrying about how to respond to your messages in the perfect phrasing, so as to perfectly convey a certain connotation.

I wouldn't worry about crafting the perfect outfit for a not-date, down to the stripes or spots on my socks. I could choose to wear whatever I wanted without stressing the details.

My reputation to your parents wouldn't be as important to me as it is. I could finally catch up on some sleep, instead of lamenting all of the embarrassing things I've done in front of them. That would be nice.

I wish I didn't care what you thought of me. My stress levels would certainly be better. But alas, I do care, however it pains me so.

"Day Zero" from 30.09.15

I am walking to a point of reckoning and the strangest thing is that I feel underdressed. I guess that ultimately I make and choose my own destiny, but it feels like this inevitable point of time that will happen, whether I organise the specifics or not.

I cling desperately to the words of support from people around me, encouraging me, spurring me on to my moment. If I ultimately do end up falling, they'll be around to patch me up.

I choose to jump though, because choosing to jump is better than being pushed off the edge.

"Screw Up" from 28.09.15

I feel very often like I've stuffed everything up. I'm not very sure of myself in this situation and it makes me second guess every decision I make. Whenever you don't reply, I assume the worst. I like to think I'm confident, but when it comes to this, I'm as lost as can be. I'm just trying not to screw this all up. Wat we have going, I can deal with. I'm getting more comfortable in the current context. But I feel like if it all changes, I'll lose my already shaky footing. This is not a good feeling.

"Dear..." from 20.08.15

Dear boy I may have liked,

The truth is, I felt second best.

Picking up on me mere weeks after being turned down by my best friend made me feel like a reluctant second third fourth choice. You might not have meant it that way, but you used all the same lines and played all the same games. And I felt like maybe you only liked me because you wanted a relationship.

Which I do want one, a relationship. Just maybe, further in the future. (i.e Not after you’ve only noticed my existence for three weeks). But before I need a boyfriend, I need a best friend. (You know this. I told you and explained it to you. I can really see that it stuck.)

But those aren’t the only reasons.

The main reason I’m no longer “in like” with you is because when I turned you down, casually, politely and without a sliver of disdain, you shut me out. Permanently.

Why don’t we talk anymore? I still want to be friends! 

Mostly, I don’t like that if I’m not your girlfriend, I’m not anything to you at all.

with lots of love like regards confusion,

Me.

"A Brief List of Things I'm Afraid Of" from 28.09.15

What am I afraid of?

This phrase has been used to inspire heroes in timeless movie scenes where they realise that what they're afraid of isn't really that scary after all. And it's nice that it worked for them, but I see possibilities in everything, and let me tell you, I am very afraid of many things.

People are fragile. I'm worried what you'll think. I'm worried what she'll think. I'm worried about what my parents will think. I'm worried that I don't know what I want. I'm scared of the possibility of heartbreak. (Yours and mine). I'm worried I'll let you down. I'm worried that this will shatter everything.

So when you ask me what I'm afraid of, be prepared for a list.

"Different Context" from 26.09.15

I feel powerful as the words surge through me. Their original situation became redundant the moment the author released them for others to adopt, at which point the words conveyed a thousand different meanings to a thousand different interpreters. 

That's the beauty of shared lyrics; they're public domain. The same words can be applied to different situations. They're relatable. People project their own lives into their ambiguous lyrics. At the core, humans all experience the same emotions, just in different contexts. 

And as I sit here, I know that my context is different to the author's, but somehow we have connected, forever linked by a melody that touched our subconscious. That melody is now my life as well.

"Achievements" from 25.09.15

Feeling accomplished is a good feeling. I would go as far as to say that it is one of the sweetest feelings for a procrastinator such as myself. A soothing calm in your soul, telling you that for all your hard work, achievements have been made, settles into your chest with ease. Goals have been met; you have been... productive? 

(gasp)

One of the better side effects of accomplishment is usually the motivation to do more, go further, set and achieve more goals.

As an idealist, this feeling is usually quite rare for me, so I try to savour it like a sweet dessert while it lasts. But mostly, I just hope that this feeling will benevolently visit me again, for surely only good things can come of its arrival...

"Soundtrack" from 24.09.15

To walk through a crowd with headphones in your ears and music in your heart is an incomparable feeling.

(But heaven help me if I won't try to describe it anyway).

The music doesn't completely block out the noice; the city has a naturally busy and loud disposition. You have a secret soundtrack that no-one else can hear. You're in your own personal movie and the song sets the mood of your scene. How will your movie play out? Who knows? Every step is filled with new meaning, new emotion flowing through your headphones into your every movement. You feel reminded of the fact that every other person in this crowd is living their own movie scene. 

But movies just aren't the same without music.

"Fire" from 19.09.15

When you tell me I'm beautiful, I smile in spite of myself. I feel like I shouldn't obsess over your words the way I do. I'm my own person. I don't need to rely on anyone else to make me feel secure. But your words still warm my heart. And that scares me. Because one day, still with that same fire, I may instead be burned.

"Words" from 18.09.15

You turn to me and tell me to continue.
It might be news to you, but that doesn't tend to happen very often. I'm used to being drowned out by stronger wills, louder opinions with more authority. But you care enough to listen to me. It's a novel feeling, the feeling of someone stopping to pay attention to your words, however insignificant they will be in the life and death of the universe. But it matter to me, and now, it seems to matter to you as well.

"When Eyes Meet" from 18.09.15

The way you raise your eyebrows and roll your eyes when all our friends are laughing makes me smile. We share a knowing look, but there's still a glimmer of amusement lingering. Their obnoxious giggles fade into background noise. For a single, fleeting moment, time belongs to us.