:-( or :-) ??

Finally, I'm outta here. Australia is a gorgeous place but sadly, i'm 19, and time with my family is not what i need 24/7. I mean, yeah I love them and all, but...well maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder. Its time, long overdue but still late is better than never. Gotta run and make stuff happen on my own. Well, baby steps. I am currently, writing this in my trusty old paperbook(gotta upload it later). Melbourne Int'l Airport. Its cold, I'm cold, my hands are cold, but my family has probably driven back home already so I'm all alone. 20++ mins to boarding. I can see the plane from here. Its a gorgeous twin engine airbus. qantas' service is a little shabby in terms of food(its hardly a plateful) but the crew, in my experience are rather nice. hmmm...what else to say... well i'll be going to meetup with my 2 cousins in auckland first. spend 3 days there, then on another long long long long flight to london, then a train ride to france. i feel like puking at the thought of the london flight. its 5 hours from melb to auckland. its 28 hours from auckland - melb - sing - dubai - london. well...one step at a time.

finally we land! everyone is rushing to take out their luggage and shit. i'm playing it cool...nah, not really. i'm just sniffling like mad. dust in my nose or something. at least they don't have that god damn spray thing australia has. its raining outside. god damn islanders are walking about in their bermuda's like its friggin summer. well, it is, but its 11 degrees. but its so god damn beautiful out there. the suns been up for like what, 3 hours and its still slightly dark. its green. green everywhere, you'd think its st patricks day. feeling slightly guilty about leaving my family like this..but hey, i've done quite a bit for them already. ok, time to go.

the air is so fresh. its like medicine almost. i stopped sniffling and sneezing. my uncle andrew is great. he's like the fastest guy in the world. in terms of wit i mean. he'll turn anything into a joke. always laughing. hard to believe the stories that he actually suffered in his life before. you'd never guess. its still raining and cold but its nice and toasty in the house. okay now my two cousins. my first time meeting them after like...what? 15 years or so. jeez, the guy, sean, he's a big dude. at least a head and a half taller than me and big. he'd squash me like a fly. dude drives a bloody souped up nissan skyline. he'd pass any day for a maori. the girl, sasha, she's okay i guess. quiet but sharp. can't believe i bathed with her in a bathtub when we were kids....naked. i dare not look her in the eyes cause aunty collin keeps on bringing it up.my parents apparently called already. am i mean to do this? but i gotta!! i need to run before i go beserk and become a columbine high school case. well anyway...i'm in the toilet now. didn't need to know that did ya...but well..yeah, not much time. gotta bathe. gotta go out. sean has been assigned the task of initiating me into new zealand culture(my uncles exact words) and then i gotta try to enter all of this into the computer sometime soon.

done! wait for my next aiight.

Dream Machine !!

I had the nicest dream last night. Its been the first of this sort in bloody ages. It goes something like this. I was at this party, it ended pretty late and a few of us close friends decided to head back to one of the guys places to like slack and crap the night away till morn. The house was a warm cosy apartment. Warm fuzzy yellow lighting that suited our hyper-sensitised, drunken eyes well. There was this girl there that I liked and I guess she liked me as well, but it was just a face-off thing. Well anyway, I was sitting beside her and most of the other friends had knocked off out of sheer lethargy and it was only the two of us awake. I reached over her to the other side of the couch to take something from the side table and my pullover brushed by her face. I had this sorta fear before that I didn't smell as good as I was supposed to, so I pulled away quickly cause I didn't want to inconvenience her. She looked at me with surprise. I was like, "I didn't wanna let you get high on my stinko's", or something to that effect. She was like, "No no...you smell nice. I like your smell" She was genuinely saying that. I had visions of furry baby blue. I cuddled up beside her. Then I woke up.
But the real revelation only happened when I did wake up. It struck me today, that I am obsessed. Obsessed to a moderate/high degree with the opposite sex. Girls plague my mind and seem to influence every decision of my life and cause my quite a high deal of mental distress. After much evaluation, I have come to a conclusion. Thanks to the cumulative work of many magi over an expanded time frame, I have noticed that a certain thing that I do, matches a certain thing that 'they' have come to notice as well.
Here's what I do. Its gonna sound wierd, but its an old habit with me and has been a blessing in allowing me to exercise creativity and imagination. Everynight, before I go to sleep, for the past 14 years at least, I have imagined myself in a totally fantastical location, different each time, but nonetheless, its been 14 years. And in each imagination, I create some imaginary partner in which I live with. Its fantasy sometimes, revenge even sometimes, dreams, hopes, fears, whatnot. Its what puts me to sleep. And each night, as I make this imagination, it is being imprinted into my psyche. So much so that I enter into this imagination while I sleep and the message is propagated and photocopied and etched into my mind......what to do? what to do?

She is there. Not forever. Things are always transcendant, always moving. But I don't really care. She's here for long enough. At least within my lifespan. Anything after that, I cannot even hope to wish for. She is quiet at first as i look at her. I look deeper. Total blackness...followed by a blinding burst of light that is focused into a vertically linear beam. Sorta like a even horizon flipped 90. I don't think i'd ever be very comfortable with one of those party animal drop dead gorgeous girls. my main weakness is insecurity. i've seen shit hit the ceiling before and i'd rather it not happen to me. eventhough, i do know that the only way to be free of this is to be free of my fear. well...we'll see. everything is screwed up right now. i am filled with so much rage. its been this way for a while. mainly because so many people are trying to determine and force my path. i don't like it. i don't just want to be independant. i am independant already. my cords have been severed from my parents. i love them yeah, but being within too close a proximity and being forced to behave in a certain way is very straining. i'd rather be by myself and with my friends..(do i have any?) my mind is seriously corrupted. i can feel the fuzz and static. its becoming physical too. the way i feel so unclean. like no matter what i do, its not gonna make it any better. and oh my god, the fear! i see everything as a repetitive action. like take a look at the typical aussie, or even them folks in singapore as well. work 5 days of the week, the remaining 2 days, they go party and get piss drunk, and then the cycle continues. or even something more fun, like going sailing on the weekends or stuff. i feel the super strong magnetic pull to just bloody run. to keep on moving so that i'm never in the same place more than once. boredom plays such a big role. i'm scared of it in everything. one of my biggest fears is that one day my gf or my wife even is gonna say, "Jeremy, you're a boring fellow...bye" I've got zero individuality. i used too...jeez i used too. repetitiveness scares me. i need constant new influxes of information.
I really like Amue. She is kind, warm-hearted, and gentle. As I imagine Amue back within the sea and that I am again here in this room, I feel amazingly calm and there is also a feeling of still being underwater. Amue specializes in fish, reefs, small bays and so forth. If you are interested in fish, she has a lot of knowledge about them. Again, her understanding of the health of the sea extends to the health of a human being. It is as little as if I had spent the day sailing or playing in the waves but I am not tired. Instead, there is that feeling you have when you have spent time with a dear friend--everything feels right.

2 

Accidental alchemy

There is a tiredness. A painful lethargy. But I am powerless against it. It has struck me at the very core of my ability. The nuisance it wrecks in my body disables my from concentrating and thus healing myself. I feel bits of me drift away and anger fills me at the slightest opportunity. Normally I would shirk off anger as repressed emotions of powerlessness, but this time, I am too tired and I am forced to ride the wave. I follow my anger, seeing where it leads me.

No adventure can be encountered in settings of joy and peace. It is only in places of fear, unknowingness, and chaos can the journey to adventure be found. And I am brought here by my unbeknownst anger. I see a girl. Why wouldn't I? My mind is constanly driven by the desire for companionship and sex. So it is no wonder the first thing I encounter be a girl. I say girl because a woman for me is someone older than 30. And she is not. She's young. Around 24 or so. I look into her because she has not noticed me. She's looking the other way. I see inside her. A whirlpool of water. Cold, sweet, fresh, turmoil. I am so thirsty. My illness has caused a fever that has parched my throat into a burning cracking waste. I dive into the whirlpool of water and she shudders. I am being sucked into it. Thrown around. But the water is so cold and so refreshing on my burning skin. The water so sweet. I drink and drink. Then I lose consciousness for a while as everything seems black. I know I am still awake but I have no contact with the outside world. No sight, no sound.

I wake up.

I am on the shore of some land. The waves try as hard as they may to touch my feet but I am too high up the beach. My body aches and my eyes are tired. I want to sleep, I feel her hand squeeze my shoulder. I know it is her because she is all that exists. I can feel extreme warmth. Not like the heat of my fever. But instead like the warmth of a bed on a cold night. But no, the anger picks up within me again. I get up quickly and brush her off. "Go away!" I shout at her, teeth clenched, snarling, "I do not deserve you, I do not want you. I hate you!" She is emotionless. I understand that she needs not to show or feel anything. I am the one that is a bouncing raving lunatic. She is one. I have so many parts to fight with. That is why I am sick.

My harmony has been destroyed. My body has tried to speak to me countless times before, but I did not listen. I was too proud. Now I drop down and cry. Yet again, her hands touch my shoulder and yet again, I brush her off. I am ashamed. I think to myself, "She doesn't know who I am. I hate myself. I am not worthy of anything. I am useless. I am a wreck. There are so many people better out there, go disturb them, let me die". I suffer because I have some expectation of myself. Like I am reading a book and I compare myself to the hero. I think I am or at least should be the hero. But I am not. I am me. I don't allow myself to sing my own song. To express myself, as..myself. She hears my thoughts but does not heed them. She heeds nothing in fact and turns her face up to contemplate the sky.

I walk away. A sore loser. A person that hates. Hates too much. A negative person. Too much friction in me. All my energy goes to waste because I am not in harmony. Never in harmony. She follows me. I fall to the sand and vomit. A horrid yellow bile. My retching almost breaks my ribs. She looks at me with exasperation in her face. Takes out a packet of small dry crackers from her pocket and offers it to me. Despite how much I hate her...or hate myself?...I am hungry so I take the crackers and eat them. Dry and tasteless as they are, a beggar cannot be a chooser. I wolf them down and look to her for more. She takes out another packet and I finish that too. Strength restored slightly, I feel a sudden violent sexual attraction to her. I get off the sand and move to her. I hold her close to me and begin to kiss her. My hand cradling her neck as I hold her tight. Visions through my eyes. Lava. Molten rock flowing. Slow, fluid, powerful, fuck-care. It comes out of her and flows into me. I feel a different fire in my. Not like the old, dry, boring rash forest fire of before. This is power. Like the noise a jet engine makes. It flows throughout me, awakening long dead senses and with it, ressurecting long dead fears worries and pains. I fall to the ground. Blacked out again. DAMN! I am conscious but in a body that doesn't know it.

The rage still burns. I don't know why. If I could, I would cry. But I do not have eyes to cry nor a mouth to scream. No body to hit with, nobody to hit. The fear i feel, is that I will not get better. That I will not ever get rest from this illness. It's horrid being conscious of it. Feeling this imbalance. Its like knowing something is wrong but not having a chance to fix it. Only time can. I began to fear illness. My old enemy of fear has returned but luckily this time I recognise him. With the power and will that only Divine Unity can offer, I strike it. Hard and sure.

I wake up.

I am in a forest. A beautiful green forest. Trees as tall and as high as the eye can see. The place in enveloped in a cold gentle mist that is good to breathe in. Its so different. The trees are alive. The rocks are alive. The mountains, streams and shrubs are alive. I can hear them talk. They have allowed me to only because of her. A mans mind is fire and force. A woman is water and the cradle of creation. Stereotypical as it seems, few have been able to escape its reign. There is a small hut. A cottage more likely. Stone walls, tatched roof. I see her outside. Not exactly near the house. She's talking to a tree..? Yeah, she is. I don't know what sort of a tree it is. I'm a city boy, raised with metal and slug bolts, not trees and waterfalls. My rational scientific mind says that, no, she can't talk to trees. Trees can't talk. But without a doubt, I get a feeling that the tree understand her. I get the feeling too that she is not 'talking' in the sense that we know it. She's communicating. Exchanging information, conveying emotions, sharing, which is all talking is about.

As she sees me, she gets up and goes into the house. Right now, even as I see this, I know that I am about to enter peace and contentment yet...it seems so trivial. Like I don't want it. I don't want an easy way. I don't deserve it. I know somewhere deep down, that I am supposed to work hard for something. Work VERY hard. Otherwise I will never find my contentment. I am a creator. I create with my hands and my mind and my eyes and my voice and my words. My father and mother work hard. VERY hard. MY grandparents worked their arses off to survive and prosper. So did and do my uncles. Its this generation. The 3rd generation, that appears to mainly breeding lapdogs. Like me. Living off the hardwork of others. AND SO fucking scared to actually suffer and work. I don't think I can take it. I want to cry. Why?!?! I want to suffer. I need to. I am just like piece of ore, useless. I need the tempering fires of hell to make me into a firm piece of steel with which to work into a sword. I have no spirit. Or at least my spirit is weak. Thats why I sabotage myself.

I'm not worthy yet. I do not judge myself worthy. Its my so-called karma.

My First Story Post

This one was done while listening to the Amelie du Montmarte soundtrack. Its quite moving really, the songs i mean, my story is crap. But still, i need to fill some space so here it is.
i felt overwhelmed just looking at her. Overwhelmed because of time. When I see something so beautiful, there is a innate animalistic desire to take it all in. To own it, to possess it. But sadly, she was too much. There was no way in hell that this girl could be owned. and the bigger part of me also knew that I didn't want to own her.

(Audrey Tautou, actress who played Amelie)

She was not bred for captivity. A kindred spirit no doubt, but one whose path matched my own. I had known many free spirits in my past. But they all had different journeys and sooner or later we found ourselves at loggerheads. With her, it was different. Her path was mine. Her expedition was not like the others. She did not desire familiarity or fixtures. She desperately wanted it of course. Who wouldn't?

But sometimes the things you want are not the things you need.

She wasn't my girl..its not like what they say in the movies i so madly loved. where the hero gets his girl in the end and they live happily ever after. i'd never get her and she'd never get me. we were just together? can i use such a word? we loved each other madly of course. but we knew of the mortal sin in trying to own each other. it just was not meant to be. when i was with other girls..i'd wake up sometimes in the morning and wonder where they'd be. what they'd be doing. i'd be scared. is today the day it ends? will she say she doesn't love me anymore?

i was insecure that way. i never found much in myself. i was lowly with no strength. till i found my path. my ascension or descent? to my role in this wierd funny and sometimes out right quirky universe. and with my role, i found a queen for this kingdom. when i woke up and she was not there with me i'd not wonder. mainly because i couldn't care. in some ironic way, she was inseperable from me.

i think deep down we all want that. to have someone who was made for us. someone we know loves us no matter what. someone..to whom we are everything. that feeling that our existence is special just because someone needs us. it wasn't that she was spectacularly beautiful. a few aquaintances of mine asked me, 'what do you see in her man?' to which i replied, 'for the fuck of me, i don't know but she is everything i need'