Sunday, July 1, 2012

Mystic

Dahlias and make a curious combination, but the weird and otherworldly often has a calming affect on my jangled nerves when I'm disillusioned with all ties and relationships I possess in reality. Troubled soles create beautiful works and weave words together eloquently and pain can often transcend into something quite useful; I however am an unbridled fury at the moment and have a devil-may-care-attitude. I prefer to retreat into fantasy and the shelter of self-expression when all is said and done and I've made my cutting and political statements to those closest to me. It turns out the people closest to me though really aren't that close or reliable though. Who better to trust than yourself with your own deepest and darkest secrets, as well as advice and support? 


If unforgiving life has taught me anything in my eighteen years of existence, it's that things can so quickly change from strange to boring, good to bad and planned to a mess. I thought I had everything in my life handled when leaving high school but I'm sort of blundering through my courses at the moment and am not sure what industry I'm exactly going to end up working in, hence this little website as a humble Plan B. If I can't figure out what I want from life, I may as well continue doing one of the few things that does make me happy and relaxed. Alice didn't seem to have a much of an attack plan when wandering through Wonderland, but it didn't hurt her at all and she ended up all right on the other side of her strange adventures. I can only I fair as well, if not better than her in life and all the while keep my neat white tights as tidy as her.



Intrigue in feminine mounds of tulle skirts that trail to the floor revolve around the prepossessed; those hidden secrets that men so longingly try to discover and be first to pioneer. There's a certain mystery behind the pure, the clean and the virginal- even this simple photograph of antique chair in gold and soft pink cushioning has a certain allure about it. I'm using this sort of image and atmosphere as one of the inspirations behind a mammoth collage I aim to put together by the weeks end. I also have a numerous amount of Valentine's Day cards to make and love songs to learn on guitar, but I'll make a start on all those tasks on Monday and take tonight and tomorrow off to rest my weary legs.



A lot of people would be all over the chance to have a hot and steamy relationship while sharing tender kisses at this very moment; fortunately I am not like most people and am having one of my trademark spates of lone wolf syndrome in which I really just want to live by myself for the next few days and not leave the house. For weeks on end I will enjoy my own company and outright refuse to engage in conversation and humour those around me; if we lived in the Middle Ages perhaps I could venture out alone and shelter in the local woods away from the clusters of people that annoy me so, but the twenty-first century very much involves the interactions from person to person and I am not lucky enough to escape this.




When I'm in a really foul mood my mind is often filled with plenty of images as well as the sound of snapping and crackling glass breaking under tension. At the moment I would readily settle for ice cream cones of waffle crumbling in my fingers and leaving far less harmful debris, but during winter out fridge is a stash of oven fries and fish fillets instead of dairy goodies. I firmly believe in the therapeutics effects of destroying and violent acts, but they must be channelled carefully less you incur the wrath of your local police. I used to play sport to curb my temper in a more productive way, but taking on a role as referee rather than player has been more problems then it’s really worth.



Many good people and bad alike have a fixation for the drink and although I am not one of them I really did need something stiff to settle my nerves other than a hot shower when I got home. Today's challenges included bad drivers terrorising the roads, fickle friends as well as tiresome shifts at work which have sucked what little life and energy I had to start with this morning. As much as I was one to drag my heels and mope around today, I was in good company and many others were looking forward to the upcoming break and small release from just one mediocre shift. There's one less work obligation to worry about for a fortnight, but I would sleep easier knowing I had some sweet girly drinks stashed under my bed in case of emergency of more bad moods.



Among the tiresome and often useless and inapplicable advice people try to palm off to us includes looking at the bigger picture and thinking in retrospect of a situation. I say, screw the little details because it's all the small things that can make someone buckle under pressure and they do all add up. It's the gradual increments of stress that lead to the boiled frogs situation; something that caused my brother to throw in his job in a supermarket. The little things can also be quite good though; they can make something seem picturesque and beautiful when a greater ugliness lurks, such as flowers in an airstrip.





Music is one of the most touching of life's pleasures and sense, but I draw the line at trying to explore antiquities and get sucked too far in to the strange world of buzzing bass lines, angelic harmonies and screeched out vocals. I enjoy a variety of genres, from folk to Screamo, acoustic as well as Dubstep when the mood strikes me but have yet to invest in any vinyls at the moment or put my father's sound system to routine use. A large amount of the money I earn goes to the bank; the rest is divided between clothes as well as paying for life's expenses but if I continued to play music through guitar and vocals I would probably be a little more interested in broadening my horizons by listening to produced works.


I feel pretty mystified whenever people say they don't enjoy reading or haven't read a book since high school or something. It's not something to be proud of or brag about and although you may be wrapped up in your own personal development as a person and enjoying the wonders of life I would argue that books and the mistakes of the characters who delight us and we spur on are as equally enriching. Last night while reading 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy', my boyfriend found the movie adaptation while flicking through channels be sheer coincidence. I reluctantly put my book down and settled into the plot easily enough, but I did miss the expressive narrative and quaint description of minute details.






It seems the only faithful human companions can be found in the British science fiction series Doctor Who and cats have often been labelled as fickle, but I can adore such a sweet creature quite easily and cuddle up with them on chilly nights. I haven't had pets for some one and a half years now, but I do miss that attention I lavished on them as well as pride when describing them to friends. I suppose those are the symptoms of a proud parent really, but kids are far down the track of my life and I have always found the company of animals to be a warm and welcome embrace. Or rather I embraced my animals warmly and they weren't quite prepared to struggle out of my arms in a desperate bid for freedom. Either way, I was quite happy in each situation.


Anytime I ever attempted to float peacefully on my back and relax as water lapped and licked at my skin ended up a sinking disaster- but that didn't mean I wouldn't wistfully think of lying face down in a stream and travelling far, far away from all of life's troubles. Without the distraction of university study and workload to bother me, I am instead worried and nagged by a sense of disloyalty amongst many of my friends, the cold shoulder of my mother and the oblivious nature of my boyfriend. It's a mystery to me how some of these problems even come about other than my overactive imagination; but I am honestly ready to hunker down into my hermit bunker and kiss humanity good bye.

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