366: 2016 – A Year In Review

366: 2016 – A Year In Review

January

I was full of hope for the new year. I was ready for my second last year of high school. I was open to exploring and being naive and being childishly childish. In the second month of the summer, I was alive. I was obsessed with Vines. I did, and still do, prioritise the preservation of memories, which make us who we are today. Full of cynicism, I was in love with the idea of being in love, in love with idea of a man. I wrote many poems. I was an alright person then. And then school started.

Song of the Month: Pride and Prejudice – Zico

February

School, mostly. I made friends a priority. The last month of the summer was eventful, made new friends, new goals, set my eyes on something I deeply desired. Mostly school, though. Who could forget Year 11 camp too? It’s mostly a blur now. Because it really was a blur. What an inconveniently timed and planned event, also, but I can’t blame them really. I remember saying something about it being a turning point in my life, but when you have so many more turning points in your life, every turning point just becomes a small event that changed a part of you as you went on in life. I still hated love. I had no time for the thing that was romantic love as I knew it then.

Song of the Month: Veni Vidi Vici – Zico

March

First set of exams, kind of. Very much the same as the month before. My second last month of being sixteen. I don’t remember very much in March, but looking back on blog posts written in March, oh right, yeah March 10 was the first day we received a notification in English Advanced about the Stocks Prize. I was so pumped for that. In hindsight, I should not have put in so much effort to come up with such crap. Still obsessed with love unhealthily. I was genuinely such a scholar student. I wonder what song of the month would have been. Every month I looped a song on repeat for a long time. So…well ok I picked one. I used to listen to this a lot for inspiration, and after a long day at school.

Song of the Month: Well Done – Zico

April

The last month of being sixteen. It was hard for me to let go of the idea that I would no longer be sixteen. I also didn’t spend a lot of time on my blog, which makes me sad because I had a lot of free time and chose to waste it. It was mostly working on my English essays and commiserating over the Maths test I failed in the first term. My first real taste of Autumn in this month. I let go of the boy I was torturing and met new people to play with. Not the playmate kind of play, though. I was a bad person. But I took time in the month to appreciate the little things. Not something I do often, sadly.

Song of the Month: Let’s Not Fall in Love – Big Bang

May

First month of being seventeen! Felt completely different to being sixteen, really. I was obsessed with the first kiss. I wanted to do well in the second term of the year. But I was in a really bad place. I’d met some terrible people and I had become them. Mockery is key. May was a blur. May is always that bridge between April and June.

Song of the Month: Now – Trouble Maker

June

Apart from April, June was, is and always will be my favourite month of the year. The first month of winter, spelling out 3 months of idealised depression. Strangely enough, I had my first kiss in June as well. It’s just a distant memory now, now nothing of real meaning to me. Did a lot of questionable things for a person with my moral code. The obsession with love was getting out of hand. I was hurting people I loved.

Song of the Month: Wake Me Up – Zico

July

More obsession with love. Crazy hurt, disappointment, anger, all kinds of things. The real emotional roller coaster. Winter school holidays. I don’t think I have a song of the month for this one.

August

The real game changer. My life turned around from the middle of August onward. Gone was that angry little girl. I met someone, my significant other, who changed me for the better. He made me a better person. I think for the first time I felt more secure in my life. All the things I’ve said on the blog before August about that man who would love me as wholeheartedly as I wanted him to, they all came true. I met the one. Holy fuck. It was all good in the hood. Like, seriously good. I met the quieter, more sensible, male version of myself. Shit, it was lit. It was amazing. I didn’t need to relearn what it was like to love someone like this. I loved passionately. I was about to end Year 11 on a bittersweet note.

Song of the Month: No Less feat. Louis Mattrs – S.G. Lewis

September

I fell more in love with this wonderful man, and he with me. Yearly exams did not get in the way of our love. We did fine, really. The tone of my blog really changed after this. The month was spent being in love, being happy, because for the first time in a while, I was in love with a real person, not the idea of him, not the concept of the idea of him, just him and him only. Wow. 2016 wasn’t so bad after all. Ironic, the song of the month, but I introduced him to French music and he loves it. Just the beat, I think. Hehe.

Song of the Month: Tous Les Memes – Stromae

October

Unsurprisingly, spent more of this month loving each other. Loving ourselves, getting ready for each other and the times to come. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier, or spent so much money in one month with the man I love. We learned many things about each other, introduced each other to new things. Sadly, he does not eat spicy food. He introduced me to the wonderful food that is pho, which I rarely have. It’s wonderful. Tormented by my inner demons, but I loved that you helped me through it.

Song of the Month: Berzerk – Eminem

November

Great. We were going fine. First term of Year 12, stressful. To be honest it is a bit of a blur. I had troubles with friends and I was alone, but my honey was there for me through it all. Just school. School school school school. Draining. There’s a song that reminds me of our honeymoon phase, though.

Song of the Month: I am You, You are Me – Zico

December

Lit. Last month of the year. More love. Introduced to new things. Survived the first term of Year 12 with my honey by my side. We did relatively the same at school. A few spats, but nothing serious. We are still very much in love. I love us. Summer is back, and I’m ready to give you all my love. And be a creative little girl. 5 months until I’m 18.

Song of the Month: Kill for You ft. Eminem – Skylar Grey

TL;DR – I was a bad person but a bit of a scholar January-July, and then I met my honey who turned my life around and helped me be a better person and a bit more of a scholar August-December. Yes, I might have taken time away from my friends, but I realise now that I don’t need so many friends to depend on when I have a select few and my honey, who I can rely on when I need them. 2016 was a roller-coaster, much like other years, but this time it was different. I’ve met the man of my dreams, the likes of whom I shall never see again. And all this time, I thought I’d meet him at university! Life is full of surprises.

Also to those who are saying they are keen for 2016 to be over, I’m really not. I’m not ready to do my HSC. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. But if I have my honey and my few close friends, then I think I’ll take it on. Here’s to 2017 and more memories.

 

~ Serendipitous

 

 

365: Ideation Fixation

365: Ideation Fixation 

Well alright let’s get this shit started
Not any storm cue or anything
Don’t worry, kid, I’ll bring
Some reels that I’ve been having lately
Nothing that’s, honestly, very greatly

That one time I remember you said
Yeah I love you but this is too much
What’s too much? What things such
Have made you say these words
Word man, this word
More ridiculous than an irrational surd

Yeah I love you but I need some space
What space? You have the universe
Oh right, you told me that’s a curse
To own everything when you need nothin’
Oh but I’m nothing now? You shittin’

Me as usual, what a terrible man
Why do I stick around? Right, ’cause it’s love
And in my face laughs Jove
The god up there who decides our relos
Man oh man worse than his worshipper fellows

The last time you kissed me it was too short
Now I sound like I’m complainin’
Or really, maybe I’m just whinin’
Always starving me of my addiction
Quick hand it over I need a fixation

Yeah I’m writing this rap
It’s poetry in motion, and it’s visually divine
Sorry Bliss n Eso, hope you don’t mind
I’ve stolen a couple of your lines

Sorry for the shit ballad
I tried my best for my first time
First time for everything, divine sublime
Hand me over to the darkness
I think that’s enough, though would I rather see
Blackness or blindness?

 

~ Serendipitous

A rap ballad. Since I haven’t written poetry since November. Or whenever it was the last time.

2.04 am

 

364: The Delusional Visionary

364: The Delusional Visionary

Granted, I don’t think many, if any, of us were born visionaries. Borne into the world by our mothers, screaming, crying, maybe even laughing, but not yet visionaries. Barely, if any, of us have any memories of our first few moments being held by our mothers or fathers. So I don’t think we were born immediately with the purpose of a visionary.

Things change though, as we grew up. Exposed to disease, other people, life as it was then. Strange dreams, unusual happenings, bizarre intellectuals. The first scab of a wound on the knee. The first of many growing pains. As life goes on, and people change, and people grow up, a visionary is born from a baby who once knew nothing.

At what point in our lives do we become visionaries? Was it that first kiss, the first love, the first book we read, the first house, the first what? For this little girl, it was all the firsts she’d ever had that made her a visionary. A visionary of creative arts, especially language, of imagination, of dreams, of things hazy that only made sense to her in her vivid sleep. However, it was her last love, all her lasts, that made her delusional. Crossing the line, the boundary, that separated her from the insane, and finally, irreversibly, into the realm of madness, condemned to never experience the mundane ever again. Is this what it feels like to be a delusional visionary?

Growing up with the last love of her life, bearing his children at the wrong age, forgoing her numerous fantasies as a young adult, forgoing her never executed obnoxious misdeeds, what was it that made her so delusional, but still a visionary? She watches her children play in a garden surrounded by white picket fences. She lives in the idea of an American Dream, not her dream but someone else’s. There is no pool in her backyard but she takes her children to the pool and watches them test the temperature of the water with their feet before they slide into the water. Their feet never touch the bottom while they’re floating on the surface. Face down in the water, they float lifelessly. She cannot help them. There is no pool. She does not own a backyard with a pool. Moreover, she has no children.

Once a month, we let the delusional visionary out into the residential gardens for exactly twenty-four hours. How did we decide this? The world is always changing. Every five seconds, the world changes. A famous celebrity posts a controversial tweet. A leaf falls from the highest bough of a tree. A child is separated from her mother in a supermarket. A teenager loses her footing climbing a sheer cliff and falls to her death. A woman wakes up in a cold sweat with the heavy imprint of a nightmare still fresh on her mind. Another woman gives birth to a child. A mother watches her father die of leukaemia. A grandmother signs her last will and testament before drawing her last breath and passing on into the afterlife. All this, in just five seconds.

So it would be best for the delusional visionary to have a taste of the outside world, 24 hours every month, on the Ides. It would not hurt for her to sample the world that continually changes every five seconds.

 

~ Serendipitous

361: All of Me

361: All of Me

He said he wanted to see all of me one day. So I showed him. All of me. At my highest, at my lowest, at my happiest, at my saddest, at my normalcy, at my insanity, at my strongest, at my weakest, at my angriest, at my lack of emotion (which I tend to revert back to when I’m having a hard time), and all these things. I showed him everything.

Now that he’s seen everything, he is afear’d of it being too much to handle and leaving me. I don’t know if that’s something I dreamed or he actually said. Either way, it breaks my heart.

I’m so silly setting myself up for heartbreak in 358.

 

~ Serendipitous

360: June in December (SOC)

360: June in December (SOC)

Wow, ok it’s been more or less a week since I last posted and I never seem to do poems anymore which is sad but I will get around to it after I get these thoughts out of my head.

Yesterday was good. I would’ve said great had I not remembered the shitty hour before I went to bed. It was raining. It was cold. It was like June in December and I loved that I could turn to my winter apparel before an afternoon out. And I’m not supposed to be writing my thoughts down because half an hour ago I was supposed to have started finishing my essay scaffold for Module A, but who cares…this is important to me right now.

I think of people in my life all the time. Not because I’m comparing myself to them, but because of their own lives. How are they doing, what are they doing, are they okay, and so on and so forth. I care, but so minimally if I realise that they don’t care about me. I don’t know where I was going with this. The celebration of life in the face of death. The nature of human existence, uncontrollable, unpredictable, completely not mundane? Who knows. The irrelevancy of all these disjointed, disconnected ideas, they’re just in my thoughts. I’m too depressed to sort them out coherently. Last week, my physics teacher told me that I had a logical way of presenting my ideas, that they flowed well. Are you good at English? Are you good at writing essays? Sure, sir…I guess so. Even after people telling me that I am good, I still doubt my own abilities. I am my own obstacle. I have such big dreams but the little girl in me will always want to be a little girl and will do anything to keep it the same but time is moving on without me and I am trying to move with it but the little girl is so stubborn and lately it’s been hard to fight her because she’s emerging so much lately and being petulant and I don’t want her to keep emerging and fighting my significant other just because she wants everything to be the way it was before 2010 and I can’t and I’m sorry I just get so irrationally angry for no reason, irrelevantly, usually, and it is my fault and I will fix it and I am sorry for being a bad person I really am trying my best even though I have so much shit going on and I love you and I really want this to work for us because you are the only good thing in my life when pretty much everybody else let me down but you haven’t and you’re still here but the idea of you leaving me when everything gets too much to handle is too much for me to handle and I can’t believe it’s finally happening, that I am being self-destructive and taking you with me and I don’t want that anymore that was just a romantic idealisation as are most things on this blog and I love you and you can’t leave me and I know other people will think that this means I’m trapping us in this relationship but I lost my sense of self-independence a long time ago and I just want to make sure everything is okay. I think it sucks when I realise that the very thing holding me together is falling apart because now I remember what happens last night and it’s the first thing among the things in my mind, it’s the first thing that comes to my mind in the midst of all the steamy and unlikely dreams that I have and I hate it. Why are we doing this to each other? I am so sorry. It pains me to write this, but I have to. This needs to go somewhere. I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can get 99.6. Maybe I can but where’s that meme that would’ve been shared in the HSC Discussion Group, I don’t think it exists but if a meme existed, it would have said, “Plug in your first assessment marks into the ATAR calculator. How screwed are you?” and yeah I would have been incredibly screwed over and that’s okay because they…I don’t want to jinx it.

We argue. We make up before we go to bed. I haven’t seen you in nearly a month now. What was it like to touch you, hold you, kiss you, be intimate with you? I remember, but I don’t want things to be different. I want it to be all the more passionate. I miss you. So dearly. Seeing your smiling face on my screen is wonderful but I want to be sitting in your lap talking about Nietzsche and the nature of human existence, because you are my muse and that is so rare, having a male significant other who is the muse rather than the woman but who cares, you are my muse. You motivate my writing so much. You are the inspiration behind all the romantic ideals and pretty much everything on this blog beyond 295. Mostly everything, I guess. I never intended for you to be my muse, it just happened.

Yesterday, about what I said, I would see you everyday if I could. I want to see you everyday. But then I think about it and I know the both of us would get sick of the other not before long. I think about all the work we have to do and the steps we have to take to get where we want and it’s so hard and I love you and I really want us to be together forever because you’re the only one for me and I simply cannot bear the thought of losing the one so early on in my life. Live hard and fast, and not die young. Motivation is a funny thing, but we don’t have to be a funny thing. I don’t even know how I’m going to approach you today. Maybe I’ll just forget it because I’m pretty busy. I’ll wait for you to say something. Yes, the issue is resolved but it will probably arise in the future and I hate that you’re scared of me because I’m so unstable and I told you I had issues and yes maybe you listened and yes now it’s taking its toll on you and I’m sorry I warned you and I don’t know if it would have been worse if I kept it to myself but I think you would have been happier if I put on this grand show for you. Previewing tickets, premiere tickets, the tickets to the aftershow, just for you. Because I love you so fucking much and it’s killing us both.

 

~ Serendipitous