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Monday, September 21, 2009

laughter

Yesterday, I noticed just how much that I laugh, but more importantly, just how much I don't understand laughter.

What appeases my particular sense of humour? What makes something funny? What provokes laughter?

I guess the best way I can express what I'm trying to say is, for example, some people find it absolutely hilarious when other people hurt themselves. Their train of thought might resemble something along the lines of: he just fell, he hurt himself while I didn't, dignity was lost, and that is funny.

But what I don't understand are the cognitive processes between, "dignity was lost" and, "that is funny". I mean, personally, I don't find it funny at all, but how (as opposed to 'why') is the loss of dignity, or any other thing that may fancy your humour, funny?


Brb, Europe.

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Sunday, September 20, 2009

20th of September

Dear Blog,

Today, I totally shared an ice-cream with a winner of the Queensland Piano Competition. I think my life may be complete. The ice-cream was great. I paid. HE OWES ME - 35 cucumbers (only), according to the man himself. That's okay though. I'll sell the cucumbers on the black market (because they're just so normally inaccessible) for much more than they're worth and save up enough money to purchase a ticket to Freddy Kempf's Tchaikovsky concert. Apparently, Kempf has "critics searching for new superlatives". I think they should just expand their vocabulary.

I had pizza with Zac after it all. It was night, the lights, surreal. Best half-hour of my life, and I've had many half-hours.

comment HERE.


Saturday, September 19, 2009

content

Typical blogs; they say so little with so many words. People need to write less with more purpose.

I swear I can hear the earth moving in certain rooms of my house. I don't want to go to Europe. I don't think I've ever faced with the prospect of leaving so much behind, if only for 3 weeks.

I don't think that I've ever had so much to leave.

comment HERE.


Tuesday, September 15, 2009

observational

I've always been an observer. I could tell you an array of random things about the tendencies of other people, but I've never quite been an observer of myself. So, when I realised I was going to be in another continent for the majority of the next month (beginning this coming Monday), I decided to look inwards and find out what I think I would miss the most. It defined my version of normalcy; the variables, and what I hope are/will be the constants;

1. My wallet, keys, phone and ipod. The essentials. They pretty much identify me. These are things that everybody has, but these particular ones belong uniquely to me.

2. The generally shoddy transport system here in Queensland, and my go-card. I'll miss that. It really makes home, home.

3. Going through the west side of Brisbane every day. It's beautiful, old, raw. Not to mention the small, local convenience stores and coin-operated laundromats. They totally make life worth living.

4. People - eating my aunt's cooking, falling asleep to my uncle on the PS3, my cousin's nursing textbooks lying around the house, us adolescents laying strewn across the couch and floor, being unsociable with our laptops. The kids from school. That Zac-child.

5. Home, naturally. In particular, the bathroom heater, my living room carpet and the proximity of my bed to the floor.

6. Zac's home. Our past is in there.

7. The music room. My home at school. A humble sanctuary for the scarce population of musicians at SMT. It's slowly being invaded by the outside world. Oh well.

8. Stress, being pressured, the constant feed of information. It feels natural and familiar now; it's what I'm used to and know.

9. The Internet, my laptop, local phone calls, texts, and other such electronic functions. Why have I become so dependent on communication?

10. The sun, and the sky that harbours the stars that I see, because it won't be the same one in Europe.

comment HERE.


Saturday, September 12, 2009

must be raining in heaven.

I love books. Entertainment of the written word. Books take you places, not dissimilar to walking, if you'll remember. They occupy you with the troubles of someone else's life and allow you to escape your own, if only for a little while.

Books.. they don't leave you for other people. The story is yours until you wish it otherwise. Unfinished books can even be left to the hands of you imagination.

Although books appear to be, often, rather straightforward, and a salvation when everything else in life is not, if you look hard enough between the lines you may stumble upon the softest yet loudest, the most hidden yet clearest, voice of the author.


comment HERE.


Thursday, September 10, 2009

ruslan

Oh look at this; the end of examinations. An opportunity to sleep? No. This is one of those rare nights were I feel absolutely horrid. Something is hurting but I don't know what. It's a nice kind of hurt though. Feels like someone took an ice-cream scoop to my heart and had some of what belongs to me. The scoop was smooth, the wound is neat. I quite like that.

"How are you feeling?"

How am I feeling? I had a wonderful day. I don't think I can sleep feeling like this. I think I'm going to throw up.

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Tuesday, September 8, 2009

keep breathing.

I'm reaching a phase in my schooling life where I have to consciously remind myself to relax my eyebrows at regular intervals, in fear that if I continue worrying so much, maybe one day they'll reach each other. I count sheep in my head to drive away insomnia, only to have the numbers send friendly reminders of my pending doom, in the form of exams and assignments, that worry me even further. I watch sleep slip from my grasp as the sun rises for a hobby. I lose myself in pointless, dead-ended thoughts, destined for oblivion, for entertainment.

On a note that I'm not entirely sure is related or not; I have never been so lacking in regards to music, since the magical time of pixies during which I was born.

I miss things. Stupid 'things'.
I don't miss stupid things - the things I miss are simply stupid for allowing themselves to be missed.

I don't even know why I care so much.


The storm is coming, but I don't mind.
People are dying - I close my blinds.
I want to change the world - instead I sleep.
I want to believe in more than you and me.

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i am

vivien, and i ask you to convince me of otherwise.

i'd like to be

a musician
a scientist
a thinker
a photographer
a time traveler
under the sea,
in an octopus' garden
in the shade.

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