Im so freaking tired...

Ive completely fucked up my sleeping pattern. I woke up at 2pm yesterday and here I am at 6 am. I've only been able to get a few hours sleep. At least it's better than the times where I couldn't sleep for 2 or 3 days.

I got work today at 4 and now I'm too afraid to sleep for fear that I won't get up in time.
The need to sleep is annoying.

I'm also stuck in my story. I took the NaNoWriMo guys advice and just started writing. But I've capped out on the Idea at 12, 000 words.

I need to start again. Any Ideas? Next step, a little step into the fantasy I think.

Too much other things that I do affect my imagination. So I find it hard to write about things when I've read a few chapters of a book or saw a movie or played a video game. Maybe I'm just not in the right mindset for a creative writing task. Oh well. Back to it I guess

Pathways

I'm getting a familiar feeling. It's not panic. It's the feeling before panic. The one that's like, if you don't do everything right from here on you are going to fall and you are going to drown. But mixed into to that feeling, is a curiosity.

I wonder if this path that I'm on right now is the right one. If in search of a better life for myself, one that I am working so hard to achieve, that I have to fight myself everyday to try and realise, is the right path.

I don't know yet whether I am doing the right thing, or if I'm just settling for this better life. Do I really want to do this? Or am I just in love with the safety and comfort of the idea? Can I do better than this? Should I try to do better than this? What am I worth? Who is to say that I can't do better?

All these questions, all this curiosity, buried underneath the fear of what would happen if I fail. I have no safety net. I have no time. Life is moving on and I need to do something about it before it's too late.

I'm slowly turning into a Zombie...

I've been so damn busy lately. And I'm always feeling really really tired. Didn't I used to have a lot more energy than this?

Uni has been pretty good lately. I go, I learn something new and then I leave.

I got a new job at Smithfield R.S.L. It has pretty much destroyed my social life, so those people who get to see me are the lucky few hahaha. Because hanging out with me is such a prize. LOL!

I wish I had the power to stop time so I could get some work done. I'm just exhausted and worried and underprepared for the amount of effort it takes to stay on top of the workload of uni and a job. I'll adjust. I have to otherwise what's the point of all of this effort.

And when I do adjust I'll probably just add something new to the pile. Life without stress is probably boring anyway.

Well this has been a fantastic way to distract me for the time being. Back to work!

Does Your Unconscious Self Influence Your Conscious Self?

A short story about our unconscious selves influencing our conscious selves. I'm not sure if it counts but hey, it was all I could think to put down.

Being that it is my unconscious self, I didn't think that I was consciously aware of it and since I don't tend to analyse myself a lot I didn't really know what to write about.

Then the other day my friend, Tim, pointed out to me that I tend to always argue the flip side of the coin. Of course he was right, and so I decided to try and figure out why this was.

When I was younger the person that I looked up to most was my grandmother. She taught me how to read, she was always there to listen to me and she was the kindest person I knew.

When I reached high school I found out that she was diagnosed with cancer and that she only had two months left to live. Needless to say, I did not take this news well. Even so, I put on a brave face and resolved to see her for every single day that she had left.
For a week, I visited the hospital every single day and saw her decline very rapidly. I saw her forget people she had known for a very long time, but she didn't forget me.

My parents must have thought that I needed a break because they forced me to go spend the weekend with a friend, promising me that I would have plenty of time to spend with my grandmother when the weekend was over.

I probably should have suspected something when the weekend dragged on until Wednesday but I didn't. The doctors had told my parents that my grandmother wasn't going to last the week.

The way I saw it, was that my parents had stolen the last days that I would ever get to spend with my grandmother. After that I never took what anybody had to say at face value.

So now, when someone presents an idea, I like to look at it from all angles. Even when I agree with the idea presented, or even if I feel inclined to agree with the idea presented I like to look for flaws in it.

So I guess that my unconscious self doesn't tend to trust and that effects the way in which I take in information. In fact, it tends to take a conscious effort for me to trust what people have to say.

What the...Anecdote?

So a while back in my Analytical Reading and Writing class they also told us to write a funny anecdote. Now I'm not too sure about what an anecdote is, but I'm pretty sure it just means recount a story. So here it is.

Analytical Reading & Writing

Write a funny anecdote that has happened recently to you or a friend (approximately half a page in length) -

About a month ago I went to see a movie with some friends. We went to see the movie Inception.

I thought it was an average movie. For me it didn't really live up to the hype that everyone was giving it. I felt that it had too many characters in it and none of them with enough depth for the screen time they were given. The only characters I felt had enough depth to them was the Leonardo Di'caprio part and the Asian dude.

I suppose for the role that he played the cheeky British guy that played the sort of rogue roll also had “enough” depth for the amount of screen time he was given and the role that he played.

But what I really felt was lacking was the depth for the suave sleek haired man that I feel was just put in for sex appeal for the ladies. They could have done a lot more with his character. Also the co-lead, the “Juno” girl, didn't have nearly enough depth. I would have liked to seen a lot more from her.

The other thing I found was that the movie didn't really give enough explanation to the universe they set. But I suppose that this isn't necessarily a flaw, it just left something to be desired.

Other than that the movie was very engaging and it was very much a crowd pleaser. We really got into it and the most hilarious thing was, just at the end of the movie when he spins his top to try and see if he is in a dream or not the screen goes black.

Everybody in the cinema at that exact moment sighed and then immediately laughed. It was a good night out at the movies.

Well there it is. Ciao

A Short Bio for Analytical Reading and Writing

We had to write a half page biography for my Analytical Reading and Writing Class a while back and I thought I might put it up here. It's not everything but it's some stuff and I thought it might fit here on my blog. It wasn't something I was marked for so... yeah.


BIO

My name is Warren Moore. I just started university at the University of Western Sydney.

When I was a child, before I started primary school I remember my brother and I being asked what we wanted to do when we grew up. My brother said he wanted to be a fire engine. He then said said he wanted to be a police because they had guns so they were cooler. He also said that he did not want to be an ambulance because he thought that was a girly job and besides, that was too hard to pronounce.

I said that I didn't like any of those choices. The police-man and the fire-fighter jobs seemed way too dangerous and the ambulance made way too much noise. I didn't, at that time, know the difference between a paramedic and a doctor, but I don't suppose it would have made a difference because I didn't and still don't want to pursue either of those professions.

The first time I made a choice about the profession I wanted when I grew up was in primary school. I decided I wanted to be an archeologist. This decision was sparked after I watched and Indiana Jones marathon. I was so consumed with the idea that I was certain that was how I was going to live my life. A cowboy hat, a whip, a gun and the power of sheer awesomeness.

To get myself ready for this career, I taught myself how to read Ancient Greek (only how to read it, not how to translate it into english), I learnt all I could about the histories of Ancient Greece and Ancient Egypt. I did read a little bit about other countries but the mythology of Egypt and Greece had me enraptured.

In year 8 I lost the desire to become and archeologist when it was proposed to me that archeology careers did not guarantee a life of thrill and adventure. In fact, it was completely possible that I might never find a thing and that no villains would chase me around the world and I wouldn't be a millionaire.

Once I thought about it, I realised that I had actually been attracted to the idea not for the job prospects or the lifestyle but for the mythology and the fantasy of all of it. That is around the time I fell in love with reading and writing my own fantasy. It's probably a lot more selfish than the career of archeologist, but that didn't really matter to me.

In year 9 I fell in love, and I fell hard.

I can't really write even a short biography without mentioning Simone. She was such a giant part of my life, and for better or for worse she was my entire life. It was by no means a perfect relationship. We fought. We had our differences and even if it does sound bias I know I put more into that relationship than I got out of it. A lot more.

I always tried to be there for her and my every thought was consumed by her. I was kind to her family and fell in love with them as if they were my own. I talked for hours on the phone to her almost every night. I defended her to my parents and received many beatings because of it. I protected her and indulged her. I spent nearly every dollar I ever made on her. My whole life during those five years was mostly dedicated to seeing her smile.

Simone lighted up my life. She was kind at times. Her laugh, her smell, her smile and generally just everything about her was intoxicating to me. With Simone I could be myself and I didn't care how she judged me. She was silly and not afraid to be herself around me and that was very special to me.

Unfortunately, the real Simone isn't all I crack it up to be. She was an introvert. I remember she once told me that she aspired to grow up and become a hermit.

I, as most people who know me know, am the complete polar opposite to an introvert. I like to party, I love to have fun and I love being outspoken and unafraid/unashamed to just be myself in front of anyone and everyone.

She was also kind of a bitch. The face she presented to everyone we knew was one of a kind, innocent and shy little girl with a little bit of a silly side. Yes she was kind. Yes she was shy and yes she was very silly. But that was only the surface. She was bitter. She hated almost everyone at one point or another and more often than not, she hated them all of the time.

Simone was a very jealous person. Not just jealousy from the women I talked to, but she was envious of everything that everybody else did that she wanted to do but was too afraid to.

I listened to it all. I wanted to hear about her problems. I wanted to help her through them. I gave her advice, that was never listened to, but rarely (and by rarely I mean never... I'm very good at the advice and the reading people thing) incorrect. I don't know why, but the fact that my advice was never wrong made her bitter. In the end I think that she might just be asking and ignoring my advice just to prove me wrong.

I wasn't perfect either. I had a bad habit of saying I told you so. It didn't start that way. I used to just be there to pick her up from her falls. I still did that. But I also got bitter about the way that she never listened to me and seemed to be ignoring me just to spite me.

I let myself go. I know I shouldn't have but I was stressed and I retreated to eating. My home life was horrible at best. So I put on a fair bit of weight. She said she didn't care and that she loved me any way I chose to be. I still have my doubts.

I was violent. Never with her and almost never because I wanted to, but I got into way too many fights and she was frightened of me when she saw me fight.

I loved my family, she hated my family. They beat me, we always fought and Simone always told me to leave. I couldn't do it. I hated every second of my life there, but despite all they did to me I loved them.

We both had our flaws but in the end I guess it just turned out that I loved her more than she loved me. I always had and a part of me knew that for a long time. She cheated on me. On the night of before her 20^th birthday I went down to the supermarket to visit her at work and to buy the wrapping for the birthday presents that I had spent the last of my money on.

I got down there and I bought the wrapping. I usually buy bags to put gifts, but I knew that she liked it when I wrapped her gifts. She appreciated the extra effort that I went to when I wrapped her gifts because she knew how terrible I was at it.

That was the last thought that was passing through my head when, on my way to the store she was working at I saw her there with another boy. Emphasis on the word boy. He had just turned 16. She confessed to me.

I was so angry. I was so hurt. I was sad and in pain, but the feeling that I felt most strongly was helplessness.

I felt that I should have gotten angry. That I should have yelled at her and should have killed him.

All that I managed to do was break down. I cried like a bitch. I begged for her not to do this. She lied to me, and the worst part wasn't that it was with a child, or that I caught her red handed or that she went behind my back all that time. The worst part was that this was not the first time she had done it. It was that this wasn't the first time and that after the last time I made her promise that if she ever felt that she was falling out of love with me and if she ever felt that way for another man again she would tell me and end it before I caught her out at it for the second time.

She told me that it wasn't like that. That she still loved me and that she just loved him also. She said that she was going to tell me, but she wanted to wait until after her birthday. She didn't want to ruin her birthday.

Well I went to her birthday. I pretended that nothing was wrong. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I tried. I did all that I could to get her back. I waited and waited for her decision. In the end the last part of me with any sense realised what she was doing. She was stringing me along. She wanted to date both of us and I disgusted myself when I realised that a part of me didn't care.

So I got out with all the dignity I had left and went about tying up loose ends so I could end my life.

I had already paid for it and made the appointments and since I hadn't worked up the courage to do anything stupid yet I figured I might as well go ahead and go for round 3 of getting my licence. This time, without any of the pressure of caring about the outcome I passed with no problems. I found that incredibly funny.

The last thing that kept me going was that I still loved my family. Even after all the shit that they had put me through I still loved them. But that night as I went to go and pick them up from the club I knew it was going to be rough.

They were, as is typical of a Saturday night, off their faces drunk. When we finally got back home they wanted the car keys so that they could drive somewhere. I refused. I couldn't let them do it.

That was the last physical fight I have had with my parents. When I say I'm a violent person that doesn't really count with my family. I get really angry and have that scary look but all I do is stand there and try to deflect blows and keep getting back up for as long as I can.

By the end of the night I was struggling for to stay awake, afraid that if I let myself pass out on the gutter a car would hit me. I clearly wasn't thinking straight because if I had stopped to second guess my common sense I would have realised that was exactly what I wanted from the start. I'd lost everyone I loved and I was ready to die.

In the end one of my best friends, Natalie, talked me out of doing it. One of my other best friends, Tim, let me move in with him. My face healed up. I got a job with Tim's dad and after a while started to find myself getting my life on track.

I still have plenty of issues which I am trying to work through, but now I find myself enrolled in UWS and on my way to a career. I'm not certain if this is what I want to do with my life and I am worried about how to gain my own independence but at least I have some stability and some direction and that will have to do for now.

bummer...

Apparently, I am not a very good friend.

It's most likely true.

I thought I actually contributed a lot... but I guess the worth of what I did doesn't really mean anything in the long run.

I never meant any ingratitude but I guess that's how I presented it.

I have my shit to deal with. I know that by now I should be well over it. I haven't sought help in dealing with my issues, but I don't trust that well.

I won't make the same mistakes again. All I can really do is offer an apology and a thanks... but I don't think they mean much to you.

Oh well.

Primary Skewl Days

Kindergarten.

I just found out that word means "childrens garden" in German.

Things were still pretty fantastic back then. No stress, no responsibility, no worries.
My parents were actually proud of me at this time in my life. I remember getting all dressed up in my school uniform and getting dressed up and getting my pictures taken with my little name tag on. I was really excited to go to school.
Also, I never cried when I got dropped off at school. All the other kids used to cry and I just didn't understand why.
My first day I was supposed to be led around the class by a boy named, Chris McKlintock. He was one of the cool kids throughout primary school... so of course he ditched me the first second the teacher had turned her head and I was stuck all alone.
But that lasted all of about a minute and before the panic could set in a little boy came up to me and introduced himself to me. Joseph Cuzzocrea. He came right up to me and said, "Hey, my name is Joseph! Let's be friends!"

And he has been one of my dearest and closest friends ever since. He truly is a great guy. Even after all this time I know that if ever I'm in trouble I can turn to him for help and he will be there for me.
All the other that really stands out from Kindergarten is that some boy crapped under the desk... I got in trouble for swearing, but that ended up in me reaching deep inside myself and pulling out some tears and getting a big hug from our teacher Ms Burkett. I wonder what would happen if a teacher hugged a student these days... Also the teacher had a magic wand hahaha.

Oh and this was the year of my very first kiss. It was at a girls birthday party and we were playing kiss and catch and I may or may not have let myself get caught XD.

Year 1Happy times and sad times for me.
This was the year I learned my first magic trick. I still sometimes use it.
Also this was the year of the hot Ms Jones.









Damn she was fine.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
This obviously isn't actually her. She was quite a pretty teacher and she was my second crush I ever had. The first crush I ever had happened to be my ex girlfriend Simone. We were lining up outside classes for something and we all had to find someone to hold hands with and while all the other girls and guys were arguing about the contagiousness of cooties I went right up to Simone and took her hand. My first ever ballsy move.

Ms Jones as I was saying though was my second crush. She was quite pretty for a teacher. We actually referred to her as the hot Ms Jones though because we had a Mrs Jones at school that was quite... well...








OK! OK! So she wasn't quite that bad. She was actually a very nice lady and a very good teacher and I'm sure was a great looker... In her day.

My very first dog died on this year. It was a very good dog. It fetched and listened to my commands and was really really beautiful. His name was Butch. I had stitches in my head at the time for some stupid crazy stunt I had attempted at the time. That was awesome fun... Anywho, I found out the news the day before and when I just shut down. I stopped talking, I didn't eat and I just went to class the next day on auto pilot.

Then three girls in my class were working with me on something or other and they started asking me why I had a bandage on my head and what had happened to me. One of them I think was Kaylar Potter and I am pretty sure the other one was Lauren Withers. And then it just poured out all at once. I told them my dog had died and that I had loved him and that it hurt so much and then i just cried and cried and they rushed to get the teacher and she hugged me and told me it was alright and tried to make me feel better but I didn't stop crying. I stopped crying loudly though and that I suppose would have to do for the day. After she went back to help the rest of the class the three girls I was working with came up to me and they all hugged me. I think that made me feel really happy but probably really embarrassed at the same time because I stopped crying and got back to work with a bright red face.

There was one day in year 1 where my parents got lazy and instead of packing me a drink for lunch they just told me to grab a bottle of coke out of the fridge and take that to school instead. Turns out this bottle of coke was my dads... and was almost a half bourbon and half coke mix. Now I realised at the time that there was something very out of place about the taste of the drink... but I finished it anyways and spent the rest of the day as a drunk 5 year old hahahaha it was hilarious.

I am certainly missing so much that happened in these years but this stuff really stood out to me and I feel it was worth putting down. At this moment I'm actually trying to remember what else happened these years and a lot is coming back to me but none of it seems to be too important except for one thing I have been saving for very last.

My primary school friends.
During the years at primary school I had a bunch of school buddies but my close close pals, the ones I spent every lunch time and spare moment between classes with, were of course Joseph and my other best primary school friend Gary. We were best buddies pretty much all throughout primary school. These days I'm still in regular contact with Joseph but after primary school we were both pretty much split from Gary. But we met up with him a while back and It was awesome. He introduced us to his boyfriend and we were all partying for Joseph's birthday at world bar and dancing and now I've added him to facebook. Such a cool guy.

That's all for now though. Catch ya laterz

Education & Transformation

Well, well, well...
Actually I was going to let this blog fall to the wayside... because I lacked a lot of the motivation I needed to maintain a blog.

Then I suddenly found the motivation. It's actually quite funny in how it happened.
I started uni this week and got quite a bit of an intellectual work load. This has captured my attention like you wouldn't believe and I find myself wanting to do more and more work of this nature.
I'm talking about the stuff that is intellectually stimulating and things that require me to think and put pen to paper... Or more likely hand to keyboard.

So I have decided to reboot the blog.

Before I go into how I'm going to do this I'm going to tell you about the past seven days... and the rest of the things I was going to talk about in the blog before but... IN QUICKFIRE MINI (MAYBE) BLOGS!!!
So... Prepare for the string of blog updates *WAAAAAAAA!!!!*

Time to Phone My Lawyer!

OK soooo... I stole this blog idea from a friend... Don't know how accurate this is... also... I don't know how much I can trust my own answers hahaha... Oh well you can judge.

The Big Five is currently the most accepted personality model in the scientific community. The Big Five emerged from the work of multiple independent scientists/researchers starting in the 1950s who using different techniques obtained similar results. Those results were that there are five distinct personality traits/dimensions. Here are your results on each dimension:

Extroversion results were very high which suggests you are overly talkative, outgoing, sociable and interacting at the expense too often of developing your own individual interests and internally based identity.

Orderliness results were moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly organized, neat, structured and restrained at the expense too often of flexibility, variety, spontaneity, and fun.

Emotional Stability results were moderately high which suggests you are relaxed, calm, secure, and optimistic.

Accommodation results were moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly kind natured, trusting, and helpful at the expense of your own individual development (martyr complex).

Inquisitiveness results were high which suggests you are very intellectual, curious, imaginative but possibly not very practical

Back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth!

Alright! Time for another blog...

What do i want to talk about this time....

Ah yes how about a little bit of my past? Any objections? Like a give a crap this is my blog!

I don't have a lot of memories of before I was in kindy.

The very first thing i remember is me at 2 and a half years old reading a spot book out loud to my Nan while she cuddled me before tucking me in.

After that It's me running out of a house and getting a door slammed into my face. And i remember falling to the ground and seeing trees but they were all spinning around in circles and I was screaming out and crying my eyes out. I don't know why but I'm actually quite fond of that memory.

I also remember going to a park with my parents and brother and climbing up this rope ladder...well trying to at least. They could all do it, but I just couldn't manage to climb as high as they could without being scared out of my wits. Even to this day I want to go back there and climb that ladder, even though in reality I know that it probably isn't more than three meters high...Still it feels like unfinished business to me. And if it's still there now I don't see me being able to ask my parents where they took me as a child with them remembering it.

And then there was preschool... I remember that very vaguely.

My brother and I are really close in age. We are only 18 months apart from each other. So throughout most of our life we've been going to school together and I've always been the one who was the big brother and having to look out for him. I like that. Sometimes I feel like it was unfair to put all that responsibility on my shoulders...especially considering that we are both basically the same age, but I'm glad I could look out for him in the times that I could... and it breaks my heart when I reflect on the times I couldn't be there to protect him, It hurts me almost more than anything I've ever experienced that I couldn't protect him. I'd take another one of those break ups any day.

So me and my brother went to the same pre school. I remember the plastic cups we used to drink out of, the fairy bread and i remember the mattresses with the dinosaurs on them and our names for nap time. If I think back hard enough I think I can almost remember the smell of the place. The thing i remember most about that place was nap time though.

I used to always wait for my brother to go to sleep first and then make sure that everyone else in the room was asleep and that my brother was safe before I dropped off to sleep. And it really is crazy when I think about it because when I woke up everyone in the room had vanished except for my brother and me. They were always, every single time, awake before we were. But Garry was still there, sleeping. And I'd always walk over and check he was breathing and sit there waiting for him to wake up before we went outside.

I made my first friend ever in preschool. His name was Nicholas...but I couldn't pronounce that and so I kept calling him necklace instead. I really did try to say his name right...oh well and that's how I lost my first ever friend in my life.

After that I have just one more memory before starting primary school. I think about it and it terrifies me. I woke up one morning with only those memories, and the name of my brother. I got out of bed and knew my mum for my mum and my dad for my dad. But try as hard as I could I couldn't remember anything else. It terrified me.

Also, Interesting little bit of family history. My great grandmother just turned 100 years old. She got a letter from the queen, and Kevin Rudd before he was booted out. Also Gillard hahaha! Oh and the governor general. I want those one day!
And not long ago I found out my pop was in prison in his lifetime and I found it hilarious! I'm going to disclaim the following story by saying it was a different time and my pop grew up poor as one of like 9 siblings.

My pop stole a safe from the army! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! He knocked out a milkman, took his truck, drove into an army base, stole a safe, drove out and got away with it!!! Until that is he tried it a second time *facepalm* hahaha! So he did time.

Also scary but unsurprising bit of family history...Does anyone recall Ivan Milat? Well apparently he used to be a good friend of My grandparents...also he used to babysit my mother and her siblings. BAHAHAHAHAHA...hilarious. Not only that, I found in a biography of his that my grandad is on record saying the he thinks he was innocent and wrongly accused.

Oh what a hilariously silly family I have.

Time to wrap this up. I'll try to do this stuff more often.

Closing Statements...apparently a version of the male pill is in human trial. You take it, and for 3 months you can get a girl preggers.

Way too much back story for the intended story!

Another post? So soon? What the hell is that about?

Well, when I first turned my computer on and decided to blog I was thought that for some strange reason I was highly motivated...

Of course then I realised that it was just that I had ran out of ways to procrastinate, and that the only thing left to do was to procrastinate by doing other things that I actually had to get around to...

One of those things was blog!

SO HERE I AM BITCHES!!!!

I was actually gonna start this sentence with the word so...but I don't like that word...too much anyway. But ... Another thing... that I feel I use... too much... is the dots... hahaha

Another thing that i noticed that i do too much that i want to highlight in this sentence is that the use of the internetzzz frequently and informally has made me stop making my i's, I's.

But enough about my shitty grammar.

In the last post I decided to blame my lack of frequency of posts on the STAT.

STAT is the Special Tertiary Admissions Test. Basically I took a test to see if i could get into university. I don't know how I feel about it. There wasn't much that I could do to study for it and that made me feel a little nervous. I mean all throughout high school I didn't necessarily feel the need to study. Actually It was more like all throughout my school experience I didn't really need to study.

I find that without me trying I generally retain a lot of information without trying... also i tend to silently analyse things pretty quickly. I think this makes me a pretty good judge of peoples character and shit too. Though some people call me a little too judgmental and at the time I've had people downright yelling in my face and persecuting me for my judgments of people.

I try not to..weeks or possibly months down the track when everything and more I said about the person turns out to be true...to say "I told you so"...

I find myself just sitting there listening to the people around me complain about these people while in my head I'm just like "I TOLD YOU SO!!!! YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! I SAW IT BUT NOOOO! YOU ALL HAD TO EXPERIENCE IT!!! BAHAHA I'M RIGHT AGAIN"

And then it fizzles into me not caring.

But i think that way of thinking, and retaining information whilst not really needing to pay so close attention is what helped me through a butt tonne of my school work.

Actually one instance that comes to mind is in Year 10 Geography. I really did not find that subject interesting. I mean basically we covered most of that information in the first year or second year and then it was a whole year repeating the same shit over and over and over and over again...laaaaaame. It's not that i find all the subject matter boring, just the whole tree hugger science aspects. Anyways, for the whole first term i may have used up a whole 4 pages of the book I designated to Geography.

Come test time naturally my teacher was just furious. I found it at the time unjust. I was one of the top participants in his class rants, I mean, someone has to keep the teacher talking...otherwise he might make you actually do some work in class time.

He said I'd never pass the subject and that he was gonna have a talk to the head teacher about my upcoming test results and the whole class was loling their asses off at me. Then the next day we had the test. Then later that next week we got the results posted in the hall with the rankings and shit...And I came first in the grade! BAM BITCH!!!

Queue the smugness on my face and in my attitude when I walked into class the next day. And when I bring up the expected conversation with the head teacher, he pulls me outside the class and has the audacity to give me a lecture on smugness...good times.

But since I've left school, I tend to be quiet. Really, really quiet. I'm just inside my head a lot. especially lately. I just don't find the need to talk to people anymore than necessary and so it makes me feel like maybe I'm losing intellect.

That's what made me nervous about this test. But we shall see the result. I get it on my birthday. So I'm expecting it to be a shit day...based on the run of luck I've been having since early '09!

This blog seems way too long. I'm gunna wrap it up.

Bye all

OK...so it took a little time...

Today I think I'm finally gonna be able to post.

Ok! So I deleted my drafts and shit and decided to start over.

The reason I haven't had time to post lately has been that I have been
overly anxious with the STAT.

That's the admissions test to see if I can get into uni... I'll talk
about that later though.

With this post I wanted to take the time to explain what it is I
wanted to do with this blog.

Some people make cooking blogs, I saw that movie Julie and Julia
thought it was awesome. Some people make blogs where they criticise
everything. Some people just use there blogs as journals, to record
what they do everyday.

Me?

Well this is my blog so it can be whatever the fuck I want it to be!

LOL
Just kidding!!!
...kinda...

But seriously,

I set out wanting my blog to have some sort of meaning to it, I didn't
want it to be just me babbling about my day because frankly I don't
need to record what i do.

So, since I only told Joseph, about this blog, I assume no one else
knows about it and unless by chance people stumble upon this or it
comes up in conversation I doubt that anyone will read this.

I'm not trying to hide this blog... I just don't at this point want to
advertise it.

So for this blog, I really just wanted to write down a bit about my
history, major events in my life, and what I'm going through.

Basically a sad attempt at self therapy thrown out to the general
public for any opinions people might have that may just be constructive
bits of wisdom.

Also I think that having something like this might eventually make me
better at writing. I mean it's not necessarily going to be the case
but I hope it is.

Finally I just wanted someplace that I could put my thoughts and
organise myself a tell... Someone what I'm doing and going through
without the immediate judgment that comes with telling people face to
face.

This way I get to put away my filter and tell things the way I really
see them.

...also...

AN END TO THE DEBATE!!!
lol just kidding... I just wanted to add a pic haha

The Creation of a Monster

It started as as a harmless suggestion.

Joseph and I were about 3 or 4 drinks into the Jamerson whisky and laughing ourselves to tears between YouTube videos and hilarious chat roulette conversations.

Another two or three drinks in (for me at least) we came up with a seemingly great idea...

Lets MAKE OURSELVES BLOGS!!!

Then came the hours of waiting for us to come up with names...............................................

Eventually once they were settled we decided against livejournal and opted for blogger instead.

Joseph had no trouble setting his account up.

I on the other hand took a WOPPING 4 HOURS!!!! Just to set the damn thing up.
And most of that was picking the fucking skin!

And so, with this first post as a lightning bolt for a Frankenstien-esk monster...

IT IS ALIIIIIIIVEEE!!!!!!