Tuesday, December 21, 2010
I make my own jewelry now
Friday, December 17, 2010
Pinch me.
I taste like bubblegum. Kiss me.
I think that I should write this dream down before I forget any part of it, not that I ever think I could. This was a while ago, and it was morning when my family was in my room watching me because I was sitting up in bed screaming and crying like I was being murdered, then I lay down and was completely calm. I woke up a minute after that in actual pain, it was the most disturbing dream I have ever had in my life. aaaanyway...
I remember I was at this camp place and it was all girls, it was like my year 7 camp except girls from my new school where there as well. I was about lunch time and everyone was kind of quietly sitting around on the benches outside eating those really good salad roles that the lunch ladies used to make. Anyway, my friend Olivia (who I am not really close with so I found this odd) was with me and she asked me to come with her to the bathroom. So as we got up I looked around and the scene looked normal but it didn't feel right. So we got to the bathroom and they looked like festival toilets, you know those long cubical ones they have at big day out and good vibes? Except these were dirty which grossed me out but I had to pee so whatever. I opened the door to the cubical and it looked worse, I closed the door behind me and turned around. The back of the door was filthy but looked like it was about to break from all the scratches on it. They were tiny scratches but they looked violent because of the obvious blood through the bare wood. Further up on the door was a frame with pictures in it. Now normally these frames have adds for tampons or the pill but these were a series pictures of a pregnant woman covered in blood with a figure standing next to her holding a coat hanger. In each picture she looked like she was in agony and the final one was her lying on the floor with a baby next to her. I realized these pictures were of a woman having a home abortion and the scratches and blood on the door were from girls doing the same.
I screamed and got the hell out of the cubical only to find Olivia on the floor in a pool a blood and a baby in the sink of the bathroom. I ran out screaming for help but I wasn't going fast enough and I didnt know why so. I looked down and saw my enormous belly, I was pregnant too. This wasn't year 7 camp, outside the bathroom was a chapel and signs saying something about abomination and salvation, I had to get out. I saw my Lit teacher Debbie and ran toward her screaming that they were trying to take my baby, but she grabbed onto me and held me down. Then it ended.
Reading over this made me feel disgusting, but I had to write it down.
Whos that girl?
Monday, December 13, 2010
THE ocean is a home, a path; it is violent, rich, calm…and an escape. It is a underwater world so perfect compared to ours that not even we could just live there with all the fishies. Unfortunately, our survival depends upon oxygen; this being a gas the deep blue does not accommodate for.
Its not just the sea though, I think its anywhere that you can swim. Even though a pool isn’t as ideal as floating through the mazes of the coral reef world in Cairns, it’s the feeling of just being underwater that is unlike any no matter where you are….(unless you’re drowning which isn’t good)
Do you remember bath time when you were 4? For me it was the highlight of the day, because it wasn’t just bath time like my mother intended, it was playtime. Some days, I would pretend that I was a pirate; other times it was Olympic athlete, ocean girl (yes like the tv show!) and, my personal favourite, mermaid. Underwater, I would close my eyes and hold my breath as long as I could and imagine that I was swimming (like a Disney mermaid) across the ocean to a secret lagoon. There, the cave walls would sparkle because naturally, in the world of 4 year old pretend, they weren’t just made of rock; the walls were made of opals, emeralds, pearls, rubies, sapphires and diamonds. Through the small cave decorated with sea flowers, corals and obviously treasure, I would swim to the shore of my own private beach. Low hanging palm and fruit trees, rock pools and friendly sea animals to talk to, just like Ariel, I would lay in my hammock soaking up the warmth of the radiating sun just happy in my own secluded world of pretend.
Naturally, things have changed since bath time at age 4. I grew up, started and finished school, began working and left my world, my lagoon, my mermaid and ocean girl adventures to my favourite bed time story character, Peter Pan. I know he would keep it safe.
These days during summer, on one of our road trips we, like everyone else, spend days at the beach. Starting early and then leaving in time to get ready to go out that night, we come home with sunburn, beach hair (YAY!) and salty skin. From 1pm till about 5 in the afternoon the sun hurts even in the shade, the only relief is the water. While some idiots are tanning, others go out to get us lunch, and we just hang out in shallow end, sitting down and talking or laughing while the boys attempt to play some sort of sport on the scorching white sand. There is a time though, when everything begins to wind down. The air is sultry the setting sun is red, fiery and the sky is pink and blue. Now is that time to take the last dip in the water to clean all the sand off yourself. It is then that I, in that moment that used to be hours, escape back to my lagoon. Even though years have passed it remains completely unchanged, just how I left it the last time I visited my secret world. Coming up for air means coming back to reality which at that point is ‘shit what am I going to wear tonight, I am so sun burnt mum is going to kill me’.
The ocean, as they say, holds many secrets. Everybody has that moment of silence underwater, that moment when your head is clear and you can just think, these are the secrets that fill the ocean. Our imagination, our thoughts and true feelings and our past.