…entre nous soit dit…

between me you and the gatepost.


Things are spinning and spinning in my head.

I’m angry.
I’m frustrated.
I’m determined.

I want to lay waste to the world.

Be reckless and go crazy.
Show them all. Make them feel.
Defiance. Prove it to them. Stick it to them.

I’m not forgetable.
Not like that.

Reckless fun.
That’ll be me.

… Lay waste to the world…


July 3, 2010 Posted by | drunk/drinking, emotions, friends, Going Out on the Town, life, moods, Personal, sleep | Leave a comment

Xin Chao!

Well we are now officially in Veitnam – welcome to Hanoi.

I was most surprised when we got here as the pictures one typically sees of Vietnam with someone wearing the cone shaped hat while working in a rice paddy was practically the first thing that we saw once we drove out from the airport. Talk about stereotypes being correct for once. Go to Thailand and no one’s riding an elephant. Go to Russia and no one is walking around with a bottle of vodka practically glued to their hands permanently. Go to Australia and not many people actually sit around in a singlet, shorts, thongs and a cork hat with stubbie in hand… ok so there are quite a few who do that, but what nation doesn’t have a bogan society?

But for once, a stereotype was right. Go figure.

So we drove away from the airport in our luxury car (mum took the sign not to trust dodgy taxi drivers all to seriously and got a taxi through the tourist desk, rather than just walking outside and seeing that there are actually official airport taxi purely so that tourists don’t get gypped). I fell asleep shortly after getting into the car thanks to the fact that I went to bed at 2.30am and had to get up at 3.30am for a 4am departure from our glorious 5 star hotel in order to get to the airport in time.

So a very tired me arrived at the airport only to be pushed and shoved by the mobs of Asians – and no I don’t say that in a racist manour. It is just my belief that Asians have a different perception of what a line is to westerners and they are much more particular about hurrying to get everywhere because in some of their countries if you don’t push and shove, you don’t get anywhere. My biggest problem was how stupid some people can be – and this is not aimed at just Asians, but everyone.

You put your bags through the scanner at the airport naturally. I did so. Walked to the other side, got frisked and waited for my bags. One didn’t come out. Naturally, I started to slightly panic. Then someone suggested checking to see if it had gone through so I walked back to the other side and there was my bag: one strap buckle caught on the edge and hence it wasn’t going anywhere – just causing problems for all the other bags trying to get past. But no one touched the one strap buckle. No one did anything. They all just loaded their bags on only to sit and watch as they struggled to get into the machine because of my bag. When I tried to untangle it, no one would move to let me get to it seeing as they were in too much of a hurry to put their bags on.

So I finally push it through, pretty darn annoyed by this stage, and walk to the other side. The man sitting there asked if everything was ok. I said yes, I had a bag coming through, and pointed to the machine. Then he asked if I was going to cry.

I couldn’t believe it. I actually asked him to repeat it twice because I couldn’t believe that was what he actually said. I wanted to slap him. Or at least say something rude. Somehow though, I don’t think abusing guards anywhere in an airport generally goes down well… it should generally be avoided unless you fancy a short stay in a lovely Asian gaol.

So all of that, combined with a lack of sleep on the plane (those damn seats on Air Asia are ridiculous) made one extremely tired me. That fact was further recognised by the guy at the front desk of our hotel, who commented on it and started talking to me like I was 5 years old. I had to bite my tongue extremely hard to keep from saying something very sarcastic about my age.

But alas we’re here now.

The Ninth story of the Hong Ngoc Hotel in Hanoi – just a small room with a beautiful view. Nothing fancy, but still lovely and a step above staying in a backpackers/guesthouse. We have a couple of hours to kill this afternoon before meeting everyone else in our tour group at 6pm tonight. There are 17 of us altogether. Mum and I have bets going on as to how many Australians there will be seeing as we know how prominent Australians are throughout South East Asia thanks to the close proximity. Last time we did a tour with Kumuka in Thailand the majority were Aussies. This time Mum’s bet that 8 out of the other 15 people in the group will be Australian, and I’d say she’ll probably be almost dead on.

Anyways, instead of continuing to write even more of a novel, I’ll finish this off and go exploring now. Mum tells me that, from what she saw in the car ride, the streets in this area are lovely and very similar to those of France… In other words, they’ll be beautiful but we’re bound to get lost. Should be good. Photos will no doubt be coming soon (if my computer doesn’t die from the overload of excessive photos first).

Tam Biet!

PS. Thanks to the exchange rate, I’m now a millionaire… in Vietnamese Dong anyhow.

February 6, 2010 Posted by | Cambodia/Vietnam Trip, observation, people, sleep, society, stereotypes, Travel | Leave a comment

A Boat Trip. A Boat Trip. A Boat Trip… Sorry am I repeating? It felt like the trip was THAT long…

Location: Battambang

Days left in Cambodia: 7

Two days in a row of getting up at 5 am is so not cool. But hey, what you gonna do?! I had to do sunrise at Ankor Wat (it’s considered a must see) and I had to catch the ferry from Siem Reap to Battambang. Hence, no choice… Although really we could have opted to take the noon boat to Battambang instead of the 6am boat. Owell.

The boat ride was worth it I suppose in the end, although I didn’t enjoy it quite as much as I should have, due to the fact that I kept falling asleep (which was a difficult feat in itself thanks to the lacking of space, noisy motor and wooden school chairs installed). The parts I was awake for were cool though. I wouldn’t go as far as saying amazing, but definitely interesting and worth doing.

The guide book says it can take anywhere from five to nine hours depending on the season, water levels etc. My sister said when she did it, it took them a whopping ten hours, but it only took us just under eight hours, which wasn’t as bad, but still too long for my liking. I got some good photos though. Figure I’ll load them up:

Anyways, I’m dead now and falling asleep thanks to late night, early mornings, full days and stress about uni work that I didn’t get done and handed in when it should have been (which has been taken care of now thanks to an extension). So I’m going to upload a few of the photos and then hit the hay, night!

(This last photo isn’t anything amazing. It’s just showing that there’s a school and everything out there – they even have a shitty church [damn christians spreading their disease fucking everywhere].  But there were school kids in uniforms everywhere in boats. Each of them got into their little boats and paddled for ages to the small school.

Anyways, that’s it. Night!

January 29, 2010 Posted by | Cambodia/Vietnam Trip, just a quick note, sleep, Travel | Leave a comment

A Strange and Haunting Dream of Floating Bodies and the Colour Purple

I’m writing this down so that I don’t forget it… although I have already had one small sleep between the actual dream itself so now it is becoming hazy… ok no, jut trying to think of a spot to start at is making me remember random things that I’m now trying to figure out how the heck they tied in.

It started with myself and my family going to the beach on sunny day. My aunt asked me to look after her kid who was around 2 years old –  a little boy who I can’t remember the name of now, but for the purpose of this I shall call him Reed (the name of my smallest male cousin who is 2). I was putting sunscreen on him and one of my other cousins cousin who is around 11 (Joel). I asked my Boss (I think it was my Boss, but I’m not sure – it may have been another male that was there with me)  to look after Reed for 2 seconds while I finished putting sunscreen on Joel’s arms. During that time my Boss put Reed bak down on the sand in his nappie and walked off. Reed gave me this mischievous look when I looked in his direction and then bolted straight for the water.

I screamed after Reed and got up as fast as I could, pushing Joel slightly out of the way so I could run after Reed. I tried to grab him a couple of times but he was either just out of reach or when I lunged I ended up tripping over in the sand and water. Reed managed to make it under the water and he didn’t resurface. By this point in time I’m screaming hysterically for him and diving under the water looking for him and his tiny body (at this point in the dream he as now wearing a little top with thick red and white stripes and blue pants). At one point when I went under the water, I screamed because I saw some red and white floating material in my peripherals to the right – floating in that eery was that clothes do on a dead person underwater – but when I turned it was gone. I came back up to the surface and Joel’s older brother was there, Mitchell, asking what was wrong. He seemed so calm though and didn’t really care. I dived underwater another couple of times frantically looking for Reed but I couldn’t find him. 

Then the my memory skips a bit to a part where I’m in the bathrooms of a school (supposedly my school) with some friends and we were changing our uniforms (which were different – more like a private schools with small pleated tartan skirts and white blouses). We were in the middle of a relatively normal conversation and then it was like my memory remembered it was in the middle of a different dream and skipped back to the one about Reed. In the middle of the conversation with the girls I randomly blurted out “I can’t do this, I’ve got to go back and look for Reed more!” So then I ran out of the bathroom into the corridor (which was a very gothic build with rounded stone archways and pillars).

Then my dream did one of those split decision things where one second it’s one thing and the next it’s something else. This time, it was a gigantic humpback whale leaping out of the water and crashing back down (because the ocean was deep and right in front of the pillars, like as if the school was built over the sea); and the next second on the other side of the pillars I was looking at the view of the beach that I used to get from the old club house when I did Surf Club years ago. So I ran down the beach and went to look for Reed’s body again.

Then my memory of the dream lapses for a bit and the rest is in bits and pieces. Let’s keep in mind I had this dream at least 4 hours ago now, I had a dreamless sleep afterwards, and the dream itself was broken up about 3 or 4 times (yes I’m weird like that where I can wake up, go back to sleep and back to the same dream). From here on in it’s fuzzy and bits overlap.

So then I remember being upstairs in my house and talking to someone – possibly my sister – when I glanced out the window and noticed there was a floating red shape in the pool. When I looked properly I realised that it was a floating baby upside down in the water with the same shirt Reed had had on. So of course I screamed his name and then dashed down stairs and outside to get him. Of course, by this stage he was well and truly dead and rigor mortis had set in – don’t ask me how the hell he ended up in my pool considering we never found him at the beach. I don’t remember picking him up, but I’m pretty sure I did and then he was placed on the table outside. It was very strange.

By this stage the rest of my family was out the back sitting down the other end of the table talking and I had to finally talk to my aunt and family about the whole thing (even though they’d all been there at the time). I was crying I remember that. Now it goes in two directions and I’m not sure which comes first.

Part One.

We were all talking and by this stage we were suspicious and trying to figure out the conspiracy that was going on. When we were going over the events of what had really happened that day, I had to correct them – I’d always taken the blame for losing Reed and  never mentioned the fact that I’d asked someone else to look after him for a couple of minutes and they’d abandoned him. At this point I did speak up though (rather dramatically with pauses and everything I might add). I said it was Mitchell and looked at him where he was sitting quietly down the end (yes at this point it was no longer my Boss, but my cousin Mitchell who had done it). He cast me an evil look and argued with something else, but I can’t remember it all.

Part Two

At some point while we were all talking we noticed slight movement of of Reed’s hands. Turned out he was alive – don’t ask me how, but he was. Then it skipped a bit and all of a sudden Reed wasn’t the little dead baby but he was in fact a seedy man of around 40 years old and he was claiming to be Reed. Everyone else was amazed he was alive and it seemed only I could see how it was false. It was supposed to be 17 years later or something – well that’s what the bad guys tried to convince us of later on – except we were all the same age and in the same place we’d been a split second ago… go figure. It really just did not add up.

But anyways, point is, Reed supposedly wasn’t dead, and we were now caught in a very suspicious conspiracy which I was determined to figure out. My mind is really almost gone now, so this last part should be quick.

We set up a group of us who began to research and look into who this guy claiming to be Reed and his friends were. They were like mobsters or something, and we began a court trial to try and frame them for Reed’s murder (don’t know how it jumped to being murder, but it did).We didn’t seem to have any sufficient evidence against they’re group even though we new that they were plainly guilty of it. We had a little secret meeting room where we would try and figure out more evidence because we had to be careful in case either the mobsters listened in or they tried to kill us if they knew where we were and that we knew too much.

One day when everyone else had left the meeting and I was just about to walk out the door, the head of our group (an older professor from our school) called me back and told me to meet him in a certain room  at a certain time because he had something to show me. It had gotten to the point where we could trust very few people and us two were the only ones left who weren’t doubtable. So I agreed and went.

When I got there he was leaning against the window looking outwards with a little girl around 11 years old standing a few meters away in silence. they both turned to face me as I entered the room and shut the door. She was a pretty girl with dark brown hair in two long braids down her side, big shiny brown eyes, creamy to dark skin, and wearing a purple dress with white petticoats. The professor introduced me to her, I think her name was something like Marianne and she simply handed me a tape. He then told me that this was the most important thing we could find and that it was all over now, but I had to guard it with my life and tell no one. I agreed, curious, and the next thing I remember is being alone in that room and watching the tape. I didn’t watch it all because if I spent too long watching it then someone would find me and kill me for it, but I did watch the beginning of it.

I knew it had multiple stories on it. Marianne had collected them somehow. It’s not at all really possible, but hey, this was a dream, so anything is possible. Marianne was the first story on there and it was like I was hit with a vision, not really watching on tv – I seemed to see it with my mind (if you’ve seen Minority report then the vision was very choppy and dark like the ones in that film). It began with her story and I can’t remember it all now, but she was a poor girl from a destitute family, and she had been offered these purple silk shoes that were like ballet slippers by this man. The image that accompanied the voiceover started with the shot at her feet. The first foot you saw was wearing a ragged shoe and you could tell it was what her normal life was like, and then it seemed that the other foot floated into view and it was wearing the most beautiful purple silk ballet slipper with ribbons wrapping around the ankle.

Then the shot slowly floated so that the rest of her body was in view as well. It was at this point that you realised that you were in the ocean and looking from below her body as it floated lifeless and pale, dark hair floating loosely and in stark contrast. The purple silk shoe was matched by a once beautiful and vibrant purple dress, which was now in tatters and drifting around her corpse. Somehow in the story that Marianne seemed to be telling as a voiceover whilst showing me these images, I also learned who it was that had done it, how they had done it and how many other people they had done it to. 

Once I knew this I turned it off, grabbed the tape and the papers I had with the most important information on them and ran for it. It was the only copy and it was all I needed. I don’t know where I was supposed to be going, all I know i that I didn’t trust anybody. At some point I ran into my cousin Joel (the 11 year old cousin) who had been on my team the whole time, and he somehow knew about the tape and said that I should let him take the tape to the courts. There was something about the way that he said and was so persistent  that I didn’t trust, so I kept saying no and clutching it tighter to me as I tried to get away. He then turned on me and told me with a snarl that it was already over and that I could never win against their gang.

There’s a big black patch after that, although I do remember at one point I realised that to be able to win this, I was probably going to die. It was like I had a moment of realisation and acceptance. Then the last scene of the dream was in the court room and the mobsters had been found guilty. it was like at the end of a movie when the main character dies and it’s because of them that the final happy ending is reached – their sacrifice  solves the mystery. The pictures of all the innocent kids that had been killed were shown on polaroids – all of them drowned. The last one that was shown was a close up of a face with the eyes shut in death and the hair waving in every direction with the currents of the water. They said her name was Chloe and it was supposed to be my character throughout the dream.  

I don’t know how it was all solved – how the professor got the tape back or the folded pieces of paper I’d had with me, but he was the only one sitting at the bench where I’d used to argue from. It seemed like he was the only one left from our team after betrayal and murder. He sat alone and still clutching the last piece of paper I remember having as everyone else bustled around him at the end of the hearing. That image as the shot faded out into the distance is the last one I remember from the dream.

I have strange dreams for sure, and they usually play out like a movie, but never are they so clear and haunting, or strong when it comes to the actual narrative. I’m well over wondering what my dreams mean. they’re always so odd, that if I tried to read them for some hidden meaning, I’d probably end up being sent to a loony bin for being paranoid about being killed by one thing or another. This one was definitely strange though. The image of a drifting body underwater is persistent and eerie. It’s plaguing my mind now along with the image of that purple shoe floating. It was very like the scene in Minority Report where Anne Lively’s body is drifting underwater and the only colour used amongst the monotone vision is the stark red. But I haven’t been thinking about Minority Report lately, so why are there so many similarities…?

June 25, 2009 Posted by | dreams, sleep, weird | Leave a comment

Sick Days

This is sort of old now (in fact its from the 6th of September)… but I thought I would include it anyway and post it up:

For the past week I have been suffering from illnesses hitting me left right and center: sinus infections, sore throat, blocked ears, conjunctivitis, coughing, and worst of all, severe fatigue. Now, I’m no stranger to being ill. I maintain that sinus infections is just like a compulsory thing for me these days. It seems to reoccur very three or so weeks much to my annoyance.

However, this last week is probably the sickest I have been all year – I’ve spent practically the whole week in bed asleep or if I haven’t been asleep (which wasn’t very often) then I was on the couch watching tv because mum wouldn’t let me go to sleep again. I’ve never slept so much in one week in my life. On the Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday alone I would have slept more collectively than I normally would over the space of a few weeks!

But now it is the weekend, and besides now being a whole entire week behind in school work (which is a monstrous amount these days),  I have finally realised why I have felt so strange in particular these last couple of days.

My lacking of energy, due to being sick, not using my muscles (because I’ve been sleeping so excessively) and not eating very much, has prevented me from doing anything outside of the house. I went to school for a couple of hours on Thursday, but that has been my only trip to the outside world really (not including the car rides to the doctors).

So just now, I decided I would go outside.

It’s a beautiful day. The kind of day where you can just stare at one piece of nature, and if you mind can appreciate it, it can fascinate you for ages. The sky is a wide clear blue expanse that isn’t blemished even once by a cloud in sight. The grass is just entering the stages of beginning to tinge brown as spring begins to set in, and the birds are all out chirping and drifting on the gentle breeze which always seems to be there.

If there’s one thing that I absolutely love, it’s the wind.

I know it sounds corny, but I’ve always thought there was something magical about it. The way you can feel it, and smell it and even hear it through the trees. Yet you can never see it. I always thought that if there was a way to feel your loved ones after they passed then I thought that was it – the wind.

I think the best feeling in the world when outside is just sitting, with your back to the sun for it’s warmth with a gentle breeze blowing sideways. If you can just sit, close you eyes and appreciate that feeling – the combination of warmth, light, cool and movement – then you’ll find some sort of peace within yourself.  Because if you can truly stop long enough to appreciate it properly, think about it and really breathe it in, then you’ve stopped worrying about everything else in the world that isn’t as perfect as that moment.

I would stay stuck in this moment if I could.

But then I know I would miss out on other joys – like rain.

October 21, 2008 Posted by | beautiful, life, rain, sick, sleep, sun, wind | Leave a comment

sleep, work, school, and no play

At the moment it feels like what we have to do is sleep, work, school, work, school, work and finally sleep again. By ‘work’, I of course mean work for school, as in homework, which is just the joy of EVERYBODY’s life. Lately every chance that I get to “play” has usually been spent on myspace (yes because I’m that incredibly sad) or watching movies, both which usually result in sleeping considering I usually have a general lack of sleeping when normal people usually sleep.

These days, night time for me is spent in a combination of procrastinating from doing homework, eating, sleeping on the floor or wherever I am and at about 11pm/12pm-ish (usually) actually doing the work until anywhere between 3 and 6 in the morning. I’ve become an almost nocturnal studier… Only problem is the fact that I don’t come home from school and make up the sleep that I’ve lost, which mans I’m almost permanently tired, I have dark circles under my eyes, and my skin has gone to crap (yes it’s a lovely picture I paint of myself really isn’t it?).

It only really catches up to me after a week of really long nighters. Otherwise I can usually keep going for a couple of weeks before I crash. Of course I always seem to crash and burn right when I NEED to be staying awake because I have a whole pile of assignments, that iv been ignoring, stacked up and that need to be done by the next day. When that happens, it’s reeeeeally NOT helpful. Yet I don’t change my habits, because I’m so retardated and because I’m used to this now.

Then when it finally comes to the weekend, you’d think there would be a break in there… but no. If you thought that, then you would be sorely disappointed and seriously mistaken. It is expected of us that we should be doing hours of homework on the weekends and, once we’ve finished that, hours of prep study for exams! Of course I manage to procrastinate (I have a black belt in procrastination) for majority of the weekend until Sunday night when finally I have to face the music – like right now, except even now I’m still procrastinating despite having 3 subjects of work overdue and 2 tests tomorrow. Sundays aren’t even good days because I have work as well – and that can either be extremely slow and painful or very very fun…

So basically, I think we are overloaded with too much work, put under too much pressure to get good exam marks (and school marks as well I suppose), even though I do realise a lot of that pressure is created by myself alone.

This blog site has really just become a bit of a whinge outlet hasn’t it? Luke at work told me today that I moan (as in whinge) too much. I’m beginning to think that’s very very true haha 🙂 Anyways I’m outee for tonight… off to finish my wretched Human Biology assignment that’s already overdue. Nighty night 🙂

August 3, 2008 Posted by | homework, school, sleep, work | 1 Comment