theflaweddesign

Such an old song, but I still like it.

I haven't had my computer so I'm currently spending my 5th hour on here, doing what? Even I don't know anymore. Finally got my Sydney photographs off my camera, thanks to my dear brother's laptop. Some of them look good, others look alright. There are a lot that have the appearance of, 'What was she thinking what she took this shot?!' Don't in asking such a ridiculous question, all I do is click the button.

I've always had a strange urge to write. Don't really know what yet. I'm looking at some of my old stories to see if there are any worht salvaging. Haven't found anything too interesting yet but I think some of them might be worthwhile after being re-drafted. Who knows, might find a treasure.

More drama with friends, I really have no idea why I keep them really. Don't really even consider them friends. I know as soon as I leave this place I probably won't talk to any of them again, not until a school reunion at least. Hopefully by then I'll be successful and be able to show them how wrong they all were about me. A little betrayed, but oh well, somebody's got to be it.

Looking for more jobs in Canberra, and it's definitely taking some time. Nobody wants to employ a 17-year-old High School drop-out apparently. The thing that really pisses me off is that if they actually met me they would realise that I'm nothing like my image portrays. Sometimes I just hate people.

Got my new glasses. They're awesome. Purple and fluro green. How could you not love them?!

Anyway, that's all I got for now.

Okay so I'm writing today mostly because I'm frustrated and also because I've got writers' block (again).

I'm frustrated because it's so hard to make anything I want a reality. I'm trying to look for worthwhile jobs in Canberra, hopefully full-time administration or something like that and there is barely anything good out there! And if there is, most likely I won't get it because I'm 17 and because I've had limited experience, not to mention that about 50-odd people are probably also going for the job. I don't think my chances are very high at the moment.

I'm also frustrated at myself. I'm hopeless and lazy. I know how I am. I've been dreaming about becoming an actress for ages, but I feel like maybe there's no point to that dream? I mean, I have a million other dreams and things I want to do, but that comes right up the top of the list. Why can't I have normal dreams? Like wanting to be a hairdresser or something? I'll tell you why, because I've got too large an imagination to contain. Also, I'm probably nowhere near beautiful enough to be a Hollywood actress or anything, which personally, I would absolutely die for! I tell you, I've got lots of gifts at my disposal but good-looks and smooth lines are not some of them. Oh well.

And... writers' block... Yay! It's not very fun and it makes me so angry to the point I almost want to scream! I have a million ideas in my head and it drives me insane. A constant swarm of characters and scenes that it would be so nice to put to paper but it never comes out right anymore. It's driving me to the brink of insanity... and back, quite possibly. For another point though, who would publish something written by a 17 year old who left school in Year 11? No-one, I tell you.

And can I find anything else to complain about? Yes. I can't grow my hair long. Why? Genetics, and because both my parents have had short hair majority of their lives. You see your natural rhythms can change according to how we treat or groom ourselves. Each strand of hair has a certain amount of time before it falls out and a new hair begins to grow and take it's place. So if your parents have always had short hair, they give that trait to you, meaning that your hair will fall out sooner than someone whose parents have both had long hair, therefore making it nearly impossible to grow long hair defining that each hair can only get to THAT certain length before it drops out. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is incredibly annoying. I've always wished to have long, silky locks that cascade down my back, but now it seems my dreams are dashed, on that front at least. Hello, hair extensions! That's all I can say.

And, yes, that's all I've got.

Okay, so this is my first post and I want it to be truthful. So, here it goes...

I'm 17 and I hate it. I hate it because I'm too old and I hate it because I'm too young. I wish I was 12 again and could re-do my whole High School experience. I wish I was 20 so that people would take me seriously. I've spent majority of my life wishing I wasn't the age that I am.

I'm female and it's annoying. If God is real I give people full permission to kick him in the testicles, assuming that he is male. Whoever decided that the females get the raw end of the stick has obviously never dealt with PMS rage before. Also, why are we not allowed to be sexist to males?! They were sexist to us for millenia, but we can't judge them for having a penis. (Also since they seem to think with them and not with their brain people seem to take it as insulting.)

I'm gay... and I'm straight, and it's confusing. Gender doesn't bother me, I seem to have one category that I fall for whether they're male or female. I wish somebody would point me in a certain direction, but they won't, so I'm stuck in the middle until I find someone insane enough to love me back.

I'm alone but not lonely. I love my own company, and it's probably unhealthy. I don't consider myself to have friends, only acquaintances that barely have any idea of my life. They don't know any of my secrets and I'd probably cringe if any of them saw this post right now. I'm private and I like it that way. I don't like people to know me, I don't know why.

I want to love, but I want to loved even more. I feel like I've never been accepted, and this isn't me looking for sympathy, this is just me. I want someone who takes responsible me, childish me, smart me, stupid me, sporty me, lazy me, friendly me, hateful me, loving me, violent me, selfish me and selfless me. I want them to pull me together.

I feel trapped all the time. I'd like to think that when I leave home, and leave everybody else behind that all my insecurities will somehow stay tied to that one place, but I don't think they will. I'm terrified of being free but freedom is what I seek most of all.

I'm a walking hypocrisy wrapped up in layers of cynism, hate and betrayal. All I want to be is positive, loving and trusting.

So, take me or leave me, hate me or love me. That's me. No lies.