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Rehab for catholics – “we’ll brainwash your kids for a fuck load of money”
Firstly, before I go into my usual bitter rant, I would like to point out that I am not disagreeing with the idea of “time away from it all” – What i disagree with is the idea of forceful enlightenment.
Sure, some people enjoy the idea of getting close to nature, speaking to people you have never spoken to before, becoming closer to teachers – The ideal of ultimate escape.
To me, retreat is about forcing people to open up – on a schedule. To get people up early and go to bed late – after mulitple “sessions” – Retreat makes those, who do not feel the need to join in with a bunch of over the top, screaming and dancing people, feel like dirt. Spiritual enlightenment? At which point will I find spiritual enlightenment? Whilst you crush the spirits, and shake your head in disapproval at those who don’t need to change to have a better sense of well being.
Where are the joys of retreat that were proimised to frequently? Where they the many sessions in which we prayed – I’m not even sure why, or the group tasks – which seemed to revolve around simplistic aims (do you assume we as females are incapable of analysing feelings or reflect without the use of drawing or painting?)
I hate the fact that on the last retreat of year 12 – of school – ever – I could not find anything to be serious about. There was nothing to analyse. No real issues. Nothing to “pray” for. I’m guessing the main reason you were unsuccessful in your attempts to somehow change my demeanour was due to the fact that I simply cant involve myself in that which has no real point. Yet I felt like a bad person – for sitting down while everyone was jumping around, dancing and smiling.
I got home – feeling nothing different – no sense of well being (that i was promised), no sense of being somehow useful, ultimately no sense of release – life just goes back to the continuous push for better marks at school.
The memories that I wont forget? The prayer? The tranquility? Highly doubted… Rather the way we pressed ourselves against the glass door of our room, screamed at the “friendly” possums, went psycho about walking into a spiderweb and ran down the walkway jumping and hitting each other, our “out of control” imitation 2 stepping and the best hand made fort – which was soon ruined.
Me and Jesi
The Fort and Mal
The fort being crushed by me and Emily… anddd then Emily crushing me – we pride ourselves on being over dramatic (the teachers had the room next to us… oh shame for them.)
Rehab is for quitters – I guess I don’t like to quit.
Meg and Dia – Courage, Robert.
He saw a lonely girl.
She saw a lonely world.
It was a canvas,
slyly careless.
A florestan lieder.
And his was a dying breed.
Courage came only from
his symphonies.
A decorative smile
to fade out.
His concerto in A
Come on.
A second chance at love.
The moments dead.
Make you feel like it’s never staying.
Made love to a baby grand.
A tempest refined inside his hands.
He had one girl, and one song.
Bone fide wine and roulade.
But he had to give it up.
His heart was raw.
But his fingers numb.
His first words were his last words.
An aesthete since first sun.
Come on.
A second chance at love.
The moments slept.
Make you feel like it’s never staying.
It burned.
The first attempt or two.
But I remembered you.
I need that moment back.
Please don’t, don’t don’t.
A tremor for death.
Ivories that sliced sedatives in half.
Releif in the Rhine.
Washed away regrets.
And let him char before he
carressed the ground.
Dear artist you will rise again.
A last arabesque in faint fashion.
Come on.
A second change at love.
The moments dead.
Make you feel like it’s never ending.
It burned.
The first attempt or two.
But I remembered you.
I need that moment back.
Please don’t forget.
He woke.
A final view of blue.
Dear cordias. Wet rouge.
Relieve romance to graves.
Please, please don’t forget
Hooray! Exams are finally over for me – So no school today and i slept til almost 11 and have been bumming around with a HUGE smile on my face – and yes caps lock was needed – it emphasised the pleasure.) As I am in the best of moods today you wont find a hate filled rant aimed towards losers, Americans, selfish self-involved anal retentive bastards, or all of the above (selfish self-involved anal retentive bastards and losers we all know as Americans) although the amount of insults in that on sentence has refreshed my mind a fair bit…
But instead a link – try it youself if you wish – according to the “Gender Genie” I found on Red Jenny’s blog, a majority of my posts conclude, in some mathamatical logic, that I am, in fact, a male.
How does one define a persons gender based on a blog? The Gender Genie bases your sex on how many “feminine” and “masculine” words you use in a blog. You just submit your blog and before you know it - you’re classified as male.
The result of a few of my blogs:
This Boy – Female
1,8000 words and 43 photos of fame – Male
Humans for Sale – Male
Scum – Female
“Get a Job” – They said – Female
So from what I gather, without doing every single post I have written, the Gender Genie sees every intelligent, well planned and logical post I write will be analysed to have been written by a male. Whilst every emotionally intact, thoughtful and slightly angry and bitter post I write will be analysed as written by a female.
Why is this? Is a male viewed as more intelligent? From my experience, it is almost a certain no. The Gender Genie seems to think I am somewhere in between, I must be that new breed of feminine male which i class as fe-man (a word i made up on the spot if you cant tell..) but are classically known as “Metro.”
The Gender Genie is in fact gender confused, as i am a certified (Birth certificate) Female.
Ironically enough – this post was considered male.
The other day I was in the car – driving on some road to get to some place – listening to 104.1 when “put your hands up for Detroit” came on. I was staring out the window thinking about how stressed I am and how I couldn’t wait for exams to be over. 5 seconds into my self absorbed thoughts the car passed a pole, covered in flowers, with a cross underneath bearing the name “Joey.”
Everything I had been thinking of disappeared, I looked at mum but she hadn’t even seen the cross, or at least showed no signs of recognition. I stopped thinking about me – and, in my own way, wished that Joey would now have an easier life, and begged that his or her family be helped through this time. I don’t know why. It’s not exactly like me to pray – having no defined beliefs. I guess I just saw this perfectly positioned cross with the letters in so perfectly aligned and the flowers so perfectly alive and wondered how everything could be so perfect. It reminded me of my granddad.
This morning, too tired to bother caring about the 2 ½ hour paper I would be doing in less than an hour, I sat on the bus, listening to my ipod, and stared aimlessly out the window. I kept the one song on repeat the entire 30 minute trip.I began to watch the people hurrying through the station; students, business people, teachers. Each and every single person ignorant to whoever passed. In the 2-3 minutes the bus was stopped I saw at least 10 people run into another person – without acknowledgment or even a sorry.
Imagine that every single person is somehow, in the tiniest way, similar to you. Yet this person isn’t even good enough to acknowledge.
Still listening to the same song, I have this way of making film clips in my head, their usually simplistic with happy endings, but for the short time there exists a perfect world in my head – where the ending is always happy.
Im fairly sick of my hair. Its not the right length. So im going to cut it.
also it may not be a greatttt idea coz im in a bad mood.
but we shall see. ill update later.
Updateeeee:
The maths study i was supposed to be doing:
My anger resulting in hair cutting:
Ooops. Itll grow back.
I have two days until my exams start… or at least the hard exams.
Monday – modern history
Tuesday – maths
Thursday – DT and Biology
Yeah im sure it doesnt seem like much, but I have studied for two whole weeks – practically non stop – and i am still fairly confident it wont have made a difference.
Anyway that was not the point of this – thats just my stress coming through.
I have work in 10 minutes. So for 3 hours and 15 minutes i should be relatively not annoyed. Unless is mega busy.
Ill just think about “lets take a gander to where we are suposed to be” bahahahaha
Everything sort of seems fake today – i went to sleep tired as fuck – fairly early. But when mum woke me up i felt like i hadnt slept at all.
Fuckkkk.
peeee. esssss.
I looked at the stars last night. They were pretty.
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