I finished my last exam today, extension english. Such a relief for it to all be over. I hope to god i did well. This is my last week of year eleven. It has gone so quickly, i hope year twelve is the same. I cannot wait to move out and start studying photography. I have gotten to the stage where i am so ready to start a new chapter of my life. I've become so much more independent and strong and i want to explore the world and its possibilities. Oh and i found out today that i am going to the Big Day Out! I am so excited! Sososososo excited!

Someone buy me these, please.

"You're beautiful, you're beautiful to me."
I despise distance. I wish there was some magical way of extending or decreasing the amount of distance between you and a person. I wish i could fly. I wish i had a teleporter. I wish there was some way, any way, to instantly fix this problem that is proving to be unbearable.

Things are weird at the moment. I definitely feel like i'm coming to a fork in the road. There are so many decisions i am making right now and i can't stop but think of how they will affect my future. All i know is that i want to be a photographer. That is the only thing i have ever been sure about. I have decided to take on english extension one and two. My mother is not keen on the idea but everyone keeps telling me that for the HSC you should do a subject you love. I love writing and i love thinking. That is essentially what makes up extension english and i feel like it's made for what i want to do. It does mean however that my stress levels will be disgustingly high and my social life will start to diminish. I think it will all be worth it in the end.

Right now i'm just enjoying interesting conversations, hours spent writing, singing along to songs that encapture exactly how i feel, opp shopping, photo-taking and spending hours on end thinking then coming to the conclusion that i think too much. There is so much to do and so little time.

Schizophrenia.

I sat by the window, watching drops of rain slowly drip down, like the blood dripping down my face. I tried to ignore it, to let the smell of rust slowly drip over my lip. Maybe if I ignore it, it will go away. Maybe if I just cover my ears and close my eyes everything will change. I could open my eyes and be in a whole new place, an island where I’m alone, no one can hurt me. I will live off the land and everything will be just perfect. I opened my eyes and reality came crawling back. It was dark, darker than I ever thought possible for the middle of the day, the pieces of black wood holding the room together were broken, I don’t even know how the room was still standing. I looked out the window and all I could see were trees. Well that’s promising, I’m in the middle of nowhere, probably half bleeding to death and all I know is that there are millions of trees outside. Why did this have to happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? I licked my lips, the salty rust taste came back again. This taste has become so ordinary for me. I’m not even disgusted by it anymore. I’m not even frightened of the rodents that sniff at my legs when I fall asleep. Why did he have to come after me? Why did he take me away from my home and put me in his awful place? I don’t understand. He’s coming for me. I’m just waiting to hear those awful footsteps coming closer to the door. They’re imprinted in my mind, I can imagine the sound so perfectly I almost believe he is coming. Is he? I wake up, the smell of rust has returned to haunt me once again. I place my hand against my face and see the small pool of blood running down my arm. Not again. It’s funny how I can’t even remember what his face looks like. All I can remember is the loud thud of something hard hitting me. But he’s out there, i know he is. Waiting for me to fall asleep so he can hurt me once again. I draw patterns in my skin with my fingernail. Little white shapes appear and for some reason this seems to relax me. I am alive, everything will be okay. Maybe he just wont come back and everything will be fine. I will be able to walk out of this place and miraculously find my way home. Oh what’s the point in thinking like this, there’s no way that’s ever going to happen. He visits me every few hours, what’s the chance that I get away when he’s not coming to get me. Then let’s imagine, I get away, he knows where I live, he will just come and take me back again.I slide down the wall and my body hits the wooden floor hard. I rest my head against the window sill, my body seems to have nothing left. I feel like I have nothing left in me. All I am is just a matter of cells, combined to make one soulless being. I feel as though I am in a dream like I am watching the world from god’s perspective. I have all this power yet I feel so powerless. I could run out of this room right now, but he knows that I don’t have the courage to do so. He knows that I know if I run away he will find me. He will find me and hurt me all over again. I’m so sick of this pain, constant hurting, it’s almost numbed my body completely of feeling now. Maybe if I stay just a few days longer everything will be okay. Someone will find me. Or maybe I will just not feel anything anymore. My black hair falls over my eyes as I look to the ceiling, god please save me. I know you’re out there, get me out of this place. My hair looks like it has been dipped in a jar of red. The stench of rust returns once again. A smell I am never going to forget. I wake up. My head feels like it has been smashed with a baseball bat. This is it, i’m going to leave. I can’t take this any longer. The smell of rust is haunting me with each day, I must get out of here. I slowly make my way to the wooden door, completely covered in dust, it looks like no one has opened this door in days. I don’t understand, how did he do that? I slowly turn the handle as a family of small spiders crawl up my arm. Shaking them off, I make a run for it. Through the forest, the world of green. I run faster than I have ever ran before. I feel as though I am no longer in control of my body, it knows what it has to do. One leg in front of the other, back and forth until I reach a place that seems recognizable. How did I know where to run? This is getting more and more confusing as I go on. I keep going, almost robot-like, until I reach my street. I run up the stairs, grab the spare keys under the welcome mat and make a run for my room.I wake up. I did it! I’m safe, he hasn’t got me, I’m home. The smell of rust reappears and suddenly the intense feeling of fear comes back. What is happening to me? I’m home, why am I hurt? He’s coming back for me isn’t he. I crawl under my bed and cuddle my teddy bear that I was given on the day I was sent to hospital. The doctors told my parents that something was wrong with me, but all my parents could tell me was that I was different. That I had something added towards my personality that others did not have. I guess that means I’m special. My parents gave me these special little white things, you swallow them and apparently it makes my special talent calm down. I don’t want to show off too much my parents said. But I don’t believe a word they say. I didn’t take them all today, or yesterday or the week before yesterday. I want to be special. I want to feel like I have something that makes me different. I cuddle my teddy and spiral down into the world of sleep. I wake up. The smell of rust reappears. I touch my face with my finger, I look down and sure enough, it is as red as a tomato. What is wrong with me? I am away from this man, why is he still hurting me and why can’t I see him. I slowly walk towards the bathroom. Maybe I should listen to my parents, maybe I don’t want to be special. Maybe I should be happy being like everyone else, I’m sure they don’t smell rust every time they wake up. I don’t even remember falling asleep and my head feels as though it is the size of a hot air balloon. I open the door, my feet hit the cold tiles and it makes my body shudder. I look up into the mirror and he’s there. He’s back and he’s going to hurt me again. I throw myself towards him. I wake up. The smell of rust appears, and I look down. Glass is everywhere, a mosaic, a dance of broken, gleaming fragments. The picture of the man who almost finally got me. I look back into the piece of glass that is stuck in my arm and I see my face. The stench of rust reappears and for some reason, a sick feeling of déjà vu appears once again.

There's something comforting about a rainy day and a book.
Spending a minute watching an ant carrying its dinner back home.
Listening to the rain hitting the roof for hours and hours on end.
Looking at the sky and realising the one you yearn for sees it too.
Listening to a song that makes you feel just a little bit less misunderstood.
That is love.

The reason for most of my injuries.

I dyed my hair.
"Does your hair periodically change overnight?"
Yes, yes it does.

Amen.

God.

Please let me move out ASAP. I would appreciate it immensely.

Amen.

Mind travel.

There's something disgustingly fascinating about reading other people's thoughts.
It feels as though you don't belong. It is not your territory.
Your thoughts are your world, you are your God.
6 billion worlds create the planet that we call Earth.
I wish i could visit them all.

I am.

I love love but i hate what it does to me.
I despise my cynical ways.

The mind is a crazy yet wonderful thing.
You don't want to be alone..
Yet you find yourself pushing everything away.
Why?
I don't know anymore.

Things that keep me awake.

This got me thinking, what keeps me awake?

1. Being hot.
2. Being cold.
3. Not having anything covering me.
4. My cat licking my face/sitting on my face.
5. Telling myself i have to remember something and knowing i wont.
6. Thinking about being awake.
7. Thinking about being asleep.
8. Being hungry.
9. Being thirsty.
10. Wondering what song is going to play next.
11. Possums breathing.
12. Knowing i should be doing something.
13. Feeling like i'm going to be sick.
14. Anxiety.
15. Being in a super messy room.
16. If everyone around me is asleep.
17. Books on my bed.
18. Not wanting the night to end.
19. Gale force winds.
20. Cats meowing.
21. Dogs barking.
22. If the room is light.
23. If the room is pitch black.
24. If i've drunk mother.
25. Heartbreak.

This is to..

This is to pushing on the splintered walls of the world, trying to break free. This is to 4am phone calls and tears that can't be wiped away by tissues. This is to cancer patient dying in the end, because she wasn't strong enough anymore. This is to red wine and cigarettes on the bathroom floor, to the boy that didn't love her back. This is to valued letters and notes that got lost in the washer, torn into a million little pieces. This is for unwanted help, and most needed attention; to the girls that put up away messages in hopes he'll understand.This is to not only the guys being heartbreakers, but the girls as well. This is to the victims and victimizers; to the people that couldn't help it when they bled. This is to those that had their hearts ripped from their sleeves. This is to believing every lie. This is to being sick to my stomach just thinking about him loving someone else. This is to those who live with a heart that has long since been broken. This is to all the "What if?"'s and the wishes that'll never come true. This is to feeling so desperate, but cant help it, because all you want is them back. This is to all the words you never said and to the ones we choke on. This is to holding your breath in that one perfect moment and being terrified that you'll blink and it'll all be gone. This is to when it is all gone and you feel like you have nothing left. This is to realizing that it wasn't your fault. And that they're never come back. This is to those who never got to say goodbye after saying something harsh before they left.This is to everything you thought once meant something and never did. This is to those who feel better aching than empty. This is to what didn't happen.This is to the tomorrows that are just another thing to get through. This is to how I wish I'd never come that close to loving you. This is to realizing that you are your own (and everyone else's) worst enemy. This is to those who are dying to be alive. This is to knowing a relationship may or may not work out, but taking the leap anyway. This is to sticking your finger down your throat, in hopes that they'll accept you. This is to every tear you've wasted on people who never cared. This is to sitting and waiting for your phone to ring. This is to being ignored and trying to being imperfectly perfect.This is to finding him, and holding on tight. This is to the girl behind that smile. This is to those movies and magazines, the ones that make girls stop eating, stop breathing...stop caring. This is to wanting to speak the most honest words you've ever spoken in your life, not knowing whether they should bring you closer to living or dying. This is for all of us who cry with dry eyes. This is for those who fall in love in their dreams, and wake up only to wish to be sleeping again. This is to not knowing, and this is to not wanting to know. This is to True Love never ignited. This is to prose and poetry and those with tender hearts. This is to those who'll never get it...those who wonder where love starts. This is to that one person who you think is the kindest, sweetest, smartest, and most beautiful person ever.This is to that one person who means everything.This is to losing that one person. This is to loving him, but having to say no to him. This is to having him in your arms again, but knowing it won't last. This is to those nights where you just can't sleep because every word they said to you replays, over and over. This is to those days when you just stay at home, because your heart is too weak to take in laughing.This is to those nights on the sidewalk where the two of you were the two of you again after so many years of changing. This is to him telling your secrets that no one is supposed to know. This is to the girl that puts on his jacket when she's cold. And this is to the guy that catches her smelling in his scent.This is to letting go just as he starts to hold on. This is to beautiful boys who are just beautiful friends. This is to the ones that sit at home, lonely, hoping to find someone just like them. This is to the people who constantly want to bring you down because you were successful and they couldn't come close.This is to the boys that turned our hearts to glass just to shatter them and use the pieces to cut the wounds a little deeper.This is to all the times I wish I had said no. This is to all the times I knew what he was doing and I ignored it. This is to that tingly butterfly feeling you get when they're around.This is to the night when feelings changed. This is to the broken mirror and the blood on your ankle. This is to the very first kiss. This is to eye contact, avoiding it, keeping it, trying to hide it.This is to feeling emotionless, and watching yourself bleed to know you still feel.This is to the girl that never gives up, this is to the boy that lets her give up. This is for teaching yourself how to care, when it's the last thing you want to do.This is to the ones who still care, reciting promises of forever. This is to the fish that killed off all the others in the tank and now just wont die. This is to being so in love that it fucking scares you. This is to the words never spoken. This is to the fragile ones and the ones that never let them bruise. This is to those who attempt perfect, but know they'll never achieve it. This is to those who fight for the weak and hopeless. This is to those who never give up on their dreams - no matter what. This is to the girls who pretend to be super girl, just to hide their pain.This is to the boys that made them hurt. This is for the children who cry themselves to sleep at night, wishing that their parent's loved them. This is to those who survived and have become stronger, better people. This is to those who love that person more then they'll ever know, and have to live everyday wondering if they really care about you too.

There isn't another soul on this fucking planet who..

"I love you. And not in a friendly way, although I think we're great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I'm sure that's what you'll call it. And it's not because you're unattainable. I love you. Very simple, very truly. You're the epitome of every attribute and quality I've ever looked for in another person. I know you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is the furthest thing from an option you'd ever consider. But I had to say it. I can't take this anymore. I can't stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can't look into your eyes without feeling that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can't talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are. I couldn't allow another day to go by without getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And I'll accept that. But I know some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there is a moment of hesitiation, that means you feel something too. All I ask is that you not dismiss that -at least for ten seconds- and try to dwell in it. There is'nt another soul on this fucking planet who's ever made me half the person I am when I'm with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it's there between you and me. you can't deny that. And even if we never speak again after tonight, please know that I'm forever changed because of who you are and what you've meant to me, which -while I do appreciate it- I'd never need a painting of birds bought at a diner to remind me of."