The Honest and Meaningless Truth
So it's been a while but whose paying attention to these things anyway? Its not like I'm not keeping count... Honest.
What's happened since I last posted? I've just turned 20. The official point of life when you realise you've been on this God forsaken planet for two decades. Along with this realisation is the doomng thought of 'what the f*ck have I been doing with my life?' Who knows? I mean really. What is an achievement? Living in general is pretty high on my list. I mean, I may not be famous or have the ability to bathe in hundred dollar notes but I am alive. I am breathing. I am living. I am grateful for what ever I achieved, whether I know about it or not.
The thing that has been ringing around my mind however, is the daunting conclusion that I may not achieve my dreams. Does everyone think about these things? Does everyone come up with the same conclusion? Does everyone have doubts... I doubt. The emotional tidal wave did seem to swallow me whole after this revelation and I can't quite swim under all that pressure. The sad thing is that I lost faith in myself and I doubted my ability. It was probably because I realised how much work was required from me and how much effort I was putting in; not enough. In the event of these thoughts I did come across my one saving grace. Who cares if I fail? Only me. No one else cares. Even your own family can see ahead in the future and know that it wont matter then. People only care if you succeed. I should only care if I succeed...
I am now 20 years old and I don't know if I will succeed. But, I'll tell you now that I am going to try my fricken hardest to get there, where ever it is that I am going and I will do it with style. So all you 20 year olds out there! Let's bring it, honestly.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
The Honest and Meaningless Truth -
The honest truth? I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed at the fact that I can't seem to grasp the things I want because I can't be bothered going after them or because I'm afraid. And I'm tired. I'm tired of not doing anything about it. I'm tired of sitting on my ass, wishing for a silver plater to fall out of the sky, with my three wishes on it, that I wished upon the evening star for. But guess what? It isn't gonna happen is it?
The motto of this story? I hate New Years resolutions... I hate them, truly. Because no matter what I wish for, big or small, I fail. And like most others, one of those resolutions is always to be healthy, to lose a bit of weight, to entirely look after myself body and soul... Fail. I've eaten more suger in this month then I have in, lets say, forever. I haven't done any exercise. I've slept into the early hours of the afternoon, and the most I've done these holidays is wished someone would whisk me away on some amazing trip outside of my living room (or even just get me outside).
So no, this years resolution is not to have 'no resolutions' but to have one in particular that allows me to be content in the absense of success. My resolution is to be accepting of what I have and make peace with what ever that may be. It may be those few extra inches on my waist, but hey! I've never had a dream of being a size zero, I have to accept my polynesion genetics and I'm totaly cool with it. Or it may be the fact that I don't like being out of my comfort zone but I'm definitely gonna have to get over that one because if I want to be on stage... Well, my comfort zone is what it is but I'm just going to have accept that I need to get over it.
So you see, this way, I will never be disapointed. Because atleast I don't have 'nothing'. I have a body, a mind, a voice, a home to live in, schooling, necesities of life... It's a lot more than some.
So my New Year resolution is to just be happy, accepting and content. I'm pretty sure that can't be too hard. Oh well, if it's another fail I'll be sure to tell you... Honest.
The honest truth? I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed at the fact that I can't seem to grasp the things I want because I can't be bothered going after them or because I'm afraid. And I'm tired. I'm tired of not doing anything about it. I'm tired of sitting on my ass, wishing for a silver plater to fall out of the sky, with my three wishes on it, that I wished upon the evening star for. But guess what? It isn't gonna happen is it?
The motto of this story? I hate New Years resolutions... I hate them, truly. Because no matter what I wish for, big or small, I fail. And like most others, one of those resolutions is always to be healthy, to lose a bit of weight, to entirely look after myself body and soul... Fail. I've eaten more suger in this month then I have in, lets say, forever. I haven't done any exercise. I've slept into the early hours of the afternoon, and the most I've done these holidays is wished someone would whisk me away on some amazing trip outside of my living room (or even just get me outside).
So no, this years resolution is not to have 'no resolutions' but to have one in particular that allows me to be content in the absense of success. My resolution is to be accepting of what I have and make peace with what ever that may be. It may be those few extra inches on my waist, but hey! I've never had a dream of being a size zero, I have to accept my polynesion genetics and I'm totaly cool with it. Or it may be the fact that I don't like being out of my comfort zone but I'm definitely gonna have to get over that one because if I want to be on stage... Well, my comfort zone is what it is but I'm just going to have accept that I need to get over it.
So you see, this way, I will never be disapointed. Because atleast I don't have 'nothing'. I have a body, a mind, a voice, a home to live in, schooling, necesities of life... It's a lot more than some.
So my New Year resolution is to just be happy, accepting and content. I'm pretty sure that can't be too hard. Oh well, if it's another fail I'll be sure to tell you... Honest.
Monday, January 9, 2012
The Honest and Meaningless Truth -
I love it when people talk sh*t. Even when I speak words of complete and utter crap it seems slightly amusing. And I'm being honest, it's funny. Because at the end of the day, who is really listening? I'm entirely sure that 90% of the words I say are forgotten in less than 0.5 seconds and the 10% that is remembered was something outrageous (like gossip) or complete and utter custard pie. So... Why do we continue to say such things? I'd be rather surprised if I were the only one on the planet who makes their previous adventures seem a little more interesting than they actually were (confession right there)... Or when you're telling your girlfriends you met this guy. "He was as fit as Chris Hemsworth (Thor)!!" But the honest truth is, he's more of a Ben Stiller (not a confession there)...
So as I skimmed through the over accumulated thoughts of my fellow Facebookers I realised how much crap we actually talk about, not that I'm ever going to stop of course. I suppose we could all narrow it down to that feeling of completion, the feeling of being 'cool' (what ever that is), the feeling of being the center of attention (even if only for a few minutes). Let's face it, we all want to be heard, have our feelings expressed, have our hearts held by that one person out there amongst the other 7 billion (not to let your hopes down).
I think what I'm trying to say is that however small those insignificant lies may have been, these feelings of anxiety are starting to over flow. I think I may be able to confess that I talk sh*t 24/7, so beware, you also happen to be reading it. But, the honest and meaningless truth is... I do. Not. Care... And neither should you.
Motto of the story, I have come to discover that the more I say, what I actually want to (the truth), the better the outcome. Even if sometimes feelings get hurt, including mine. Because the truth is an all healing glue. Honestly... Speak what's on your mind... In the appropriate times of course.
I love it when people talk sh*t. Even when I speak words of complete and utter crap it seems slightly amusing. And I'm being honest, it's funny. Because at the end of the day, who is really listening? I'm entirely sure that 90% of the words I say are forgotten in less than 0.5 seconds and the 10% that is remembered was something outrageous (like gossip) or complete and utter custard pie. So... Why do we continue to say such things? I'd be rather surprised if I were the only one on the planet who makes their previous adventures seem a little more interesting than they actually were (confession right there)... Or when you're telling your girlfriends you met this guy. "He was as fit as Chris Hemsworth (Thor)!!" But the honest truth is, he's more of a Ben Stiller (not a confession there)...
So as I skimmed through the over accumulated thoughts of my fellow Facebookers I realised how much crap we actually talk about, not that I'm ever going to stop of course. I suppose we could all narrow it down to that feeling of completion, the feeling of being 'cool' (what ever that is), the feeling of being the center of attention (even if only for a few minutes). Let's face it, we all want to be heard, have our feelings expressed, have our hearts held by that one person out there amongst the other 7 billion (not to let your hopes down).
I think what I'm trying to say is that however small those insignificant lies may have been, these feelings of anxiety are starting to over flow. I think I may be able to confess that I talk sh*t 24/7, so beware, you also happen to be reading it. But, the honest and meaningless truth is... I do. Not. Care... And neither should you.
Motto of the story, I have come to discover that the more I say, what I actually want to (the truth), the better the outcome. Even if sometimes feelings get hurt, including mine. Because the truth is an all healing glue. Honestly... Speak what's on your mind... In the appropriate times of course.
The Honest and Meaningless Truth -
It was Saturday 7th of January, and for a few days or perhaps even a few weeks, I had been considering adopting a kitten. Like most people my age (or at least I'd like to think so), the thought of having a cute, fluffy, miniature cat would be a breeze to look after, especially when you are an animal person (which I am). But as per usual (like most people my age), we do not think of the long term consequences. And then it hit me. After I stared into my kittens eyes, wide and wondrous, the thought flooded into my adolescent mind... I am no longer a child. But the 'oh so wise' words of Britney Spears' song, I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman also managed to drizzle from the clouds in my skull, however vacant and vast it may seem to me.
And no, these thoughts do not occur every time I stare into Astro's eyes. But the thought of having to actually take care of him was slightly daunting when he was introduced to the dog that also happens to take residence at this house. As you could imagine it did not play out as the optimistic and obviously over enthusiastic dream I had in my head. Although, I was rather fascinated when the dog peed itself and my 9 week old kitten did not. The dog is not small either. She is rather large, the size of a Golden Lab but shaded like a Border Colly.
This also got me thinking... A little kitten, the same size as my shoe ( 9 inches), valiantly stood up to it's life long nemesis, 10 times it's size, without any hesitation... It's as if the 'Great Beings' themselves were up in the sky playing out my life in front of my eyes, using my own pets as their puppets. And the motto of their story was, "Emmiline, what the hell is this bullsh*t? Get your butt off that chair, stop typing your damn nonsense and man the heck up! Because you see, child, blabbing on about your crap will not enable you to surpass your fears. The ones you hold over your life to come. The fear of you failing at your new school... The fear of everything and anything at all..."
And you know what my reply is, to who ever it is that sits upstairs?
...
Okay.
It was Saturday 7th of January, and for a few days or perhaps even a few weeks, I had been considering adopting a kitten. Like most people my age (or at least I'd like to think so), the thought of having a cute, fluffy, miniature cat would be a breeze to look after, especially when you are an animal person (which I am). But as per usual (like most people my age), we do not think of the long term consequences. And then it hit me. After I stared into my kittens eyes, wide and wondrous, the thought flooded into my adolescent mind... I am no longer a child. But the 'oh so wise' words of Britney Spears' song, I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman also managed to drizzle from the clouds in my skull, however vacant and vast it may seem to me.
And no, these thoughts do not occur every time I stare into Astro's eyes. But the thought of having to actually take care of him was slightly daunting when he was introduced to the dog that also happens to take residence at this house. As you could imagine it did not play out as the optimistic and obviously over enthusiastic dream I had in my head. Although, I was rather fascinated when the dog peed itself and my 9 week old kitten did not. The dog is not small either. She is rather large, the size of a Golden Lab but shaded like a Border Colly.
This also got me thinking... A little kitten, the same size as my shoe ( 9 inches), valiantly stood up to it's life long nemesis, 10 times it's size, without any hesitation... It's as if the 'Great Beings' themselves were up in the sky playing out my life in front of my eyes, using my own pets as their puppets. And the motto of their story was, "Emmiline, what the hell is this bullsh*t? Get your butt off that chair, stop typing your damn nonsense and man the heck up! Because you see, child, blabbing on about your crap will not enable you to surpass your fears. The ones you hold over your life to come. The fear of you failing at your new school... The fear of everything and anything at all..."
And you know what my reply is, to who ever it is that sits upstairs?
...
Okay.
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