102. TIMOTHY LEARY: You aren’t like them

I really connected with this.
It's really frustrating me that this won't blow up to its original size, but please click on it and read it, it's beautiful.

102. TIMOTHY LEARY: You aren’t like them

115. M-O-T-H-E-R :(

115. M-O-T-H-E-R

most beautiful song EVER

pretty much sums it all up.

a bunch of pictures

ONE IN A BAJILLION

:(

God I feel depressed..serves me right, right?

Pretty much what I live by mate.

my obsession with romance

I have an obsession with romance and finding love even though I never put myself out there. No, I know, I'm not gonna find love sitting on my arse. I keep telling myself it's not the right time, but even as I'm sitting here typing this, I'm realising it's a lie. I've always deep down, known it's a lie, I've just not wanted to admit it to myself.

He's just not here yet.

Now I know that doesn't seem like a big deal. You're 20, he'll come, get over it you loser. But it's so frustrating. TV, films, books all hype up love so much making it seem like THAT'S what life is all about: love. And in a way, maybe it is? I don't know. It's too much to start discussing the meaning of life.

My point is: even my first little encounter with love..(albeit it was an online one. Not that it was with a stranger! It was Ajay, we all know him. The boy I went to school with who I semi-madly fell in love with..I'm getting side-tracked again.) Even my first little encounter with love left a bittersweet taste in my mouth making me crave more.

Everything in our lives, whether an awkward glance between yourself and a incredibly hot guy (who couldn't have possibly been looking at you on purpose!) or that stupid song that keeps reminding you of said hot guy..well all these things are screaming that love is the answer to all your problems.

It's not. But here's to wishful thinking.

Today's thought of the day that I have to constantly remind myself:

Thoughts for a new name for my blog: "My very private, personal online journal."
What do you reckon?

I was too embarrassed to wear a bikini

I was flicking through other blogs and I understand why no one reads mine. Their's is about their work, them dying, someone they know dying..or simply has pictures of them on it. No one likes the idea of reading an ugly weirdos blog. Plus their friends follow them, mine's a secret from my friends. God forbid they found out about me blogging about sex.

So I just had a flashback, of my year 10 Ski Trip to America; Boston (best holiday EVER) and as I was looking at myself in the mirror in my underwear I remember doing the same in the mirror in our hostel room with my friend Bianca by my side. She was in her bikini and I was fully clothed pulling up my jumper, both of us starring at our stomachs. She was about to go to the pool and I was contemplating going. In my very uncool one-piece because I didn't own a bikini and figured there was no point buying one.

Worst thing was I'd been doing doing sit-ups everyday for the last month and starving myself, eating one meal a day so that I wouldn't have a flabby stomach, because I knew there'd be a pool on the trip. I'd actually made visible progress in reducing my flab.

"Okay, now suck in." said Bianca after looking at my stomach and listening to my concerns about my flab.

"I am sucking in."

"Oh, well don't worry I've just been walking round sucking in as well anyway, haven't been breathing out at all!"

"Okay..but I only have a one-piece swimsuit."

"Really? A one-piece..er okay, you know what don't worry, no one will even notice in the pool."

"..you sure?..You know what I think I'll sit this one out."

And I did. The whole thing was mortifying.

I'm going to sound completely vain saying this, and everything up until this point is only going to add to that, but I'm not fat. I'm skinny. Then why do I have flabby belly issues? It's the only part of my body that is ridiculously fat. Well that's a lie, my thighs are a normal size and I have a big arse but I'm very okay with those. I've always had flabby belly issues but all my friends always disregard it because I'm skinny so I couldn't possibly have a fatty belly under my clothes, could I?

Well I do. And it sucks. And someday, probably before I have sex, I will have an amazing toned movie-star stomach. That's right stomach not, belly. Significant difference.

Just you wait and see.