... are made of." - Paolo & Isabella (ROFL AKA LAMO HILARY DUFF TEENSTER MOVIE back in the days when I was completely in love with her. Haha, I will rewatch that movie some day. I need to live like a 13 year old for a few hours some time...)

I'm so glad I've got comments turned off, because I'm starting this post without ANY idea on what I'm going to talk about. See, the sentence is confusing already.

I think this post will be completely random, and will be driven off tangent multiple times. Hope you enjoy.

Okay. Reading.

Have you ever read something that's changed your life? Or seen something that has? I don't think I ever had. I've never really felt that COMPLETE revelation. The ultimate realisation of life... you know? Like, Buddha.

Anyways, I think I've seen random things from time to time. And together, somehow, sometime, they have changed me. LOL I just realised... that this happens to everyone. It's called growing up. Sorry, I thought I was into something quite epic - that was failure.

Okay, whatever.

You may have read on earmuffed that in the holidays, Theresa, a manslave (who I don't know would mind being named or not, yet, so I'd keep him anonymous for the time being...) and I went to the city and watched Coco Avant Chanel.

Honestly? It was a nice film. But it didn't change me as I expected it would. It did, but not that much. Theresa mentioned it's changed her though, so I guess I'm just a freak, then.

Reading "The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas" changed my life. It's becoming one of my favourite books ever. That's probably because my book count is like, you know, two - but... shut up! It was really good, sad but good. It was predictable, but unpredictable at the same time. How? Well, I'd need to ruin the book for you a bit, so that's not good. For those who haven't had the chance, I encourage you make that chance happen soon! It's awesome. And the book is so short, so, it's not like one of those things people con you into and its long and you feel bad for giving up half way but its bloody long! I've come to appreciate how simple it is. I'm really loving the short sentences, and vow to write in similarly short proses. As you can see, it is failing miserably. But anyways, the book is shorter to read than the movie takes to watch. And honestly, I didn't like the movie - Jess and Jenny N says it epic and awesome. But I'm a freak, as always.

And before that, I finished "Fight Club" and that's also the second on my (completely out of order) favourite books mental list. It's brought up a very good point. What if you live the rest of your life without achieving the enlightenment? Like, some people are completely content with having an office job their entire life. That's fine. But what if you're not compeltely content but just ... have not realised it yet, or never will? Isn't that kind of sad? Yes, a bit.

That brings me to my next point. What if you live your entire life and don't get the chance to read or see the stuff that was supposed to change your life for... ever?

Like, what if... God or whoever it is intended you to come across something completely epic in your life at point X. But you're only at point B, and you make a stupid move and fall off a cliff and die?

This is why, I think, now I'm going to try to be a lot more careful with myself. You know, avoid cliffs and whatnot. Because I don't think I've found that one thing that was meant to change my life yet. Or at least, not all the scattered parts of it.

"We accept the love we think we deserve." - The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I thought this was a Postsecret quote, but it was taken from this book, it seems.

Haha, that was compeltely random - a diarrhea of some sort of my mental brainworks, which hardly exists but only for the exceptional occasions as this time, when nothing it produces makes sense. Sorry, guys.

"... and damn, you're free." - Jason Mraz

With some somewhat abundant free time (as the stress of attempting to operate newly stolen sewing machine [3 hours], searching youtube for videos on how to operate sewing machines, and finally getting machine to operate, then the task of sewing three pieces of CLOTHS together [4-5 hours], then speech) over, I've decided to blog.

About what? I don't know, so I guess I'd improv from here on...

As you may or may not know, we modern historians were assigned a task to research a historical figure and present thyself as that figure in class, to the class.

Well, being the big moronic idiot that I am, I chose the late pope. Yes, with no sewing machine nor any creative intelligence, I chose the person who would require sewing for his costume. Other people just borrow their brother's or mother's old clothes, or a suit. BUT NO ONE OWNS A POPE COSTUME (THIS IS WHY WE NEED HALLOWEEN IN AUSTRALIA), do they?

And no place sells them either. Doesn't help that the store owner/whoever else is in the store give me the dirties when I pitched the question.

"Uhmmm... so do you have anything the.. uhm, pope might wear?"
*Guy looks over, goes to tell his friend that I'm crazy*
Store owner: no, honey. *pity look*
Me: uhm no, this is for school...
Store owner: ...okay *pity look*
Me: ... it's for a school assessment...
Store owner *stares*
Me: it's ... it's... I'm not dressing up as the Pope for fun!
Store owner *pity looks and stares*

But you know what? It's alright, I've concluded.

That assessment isn't all that bad. And I'm glad I chose to study the late Pope over the other characters. I think I've slowly, over the agonising stress in the wee hours, filling in details and answering the criterion questions about his life, have fallen in love with Pope John Paul II.

Oh, and the sewing bit was yes, frustrating and made me want to kill myself, other living objects around me at the time (dad, bonsai tress) and sewing machine, it was also quite fun.

And , I have a sewing machine now. Well, it's not mine, but I am borrowing it for an indefinite amount of time (from this moment --> death, or until owner demands it back, which hopefully, is never).

Oh, btw, should I turn on comments? LOL well, you won't be able to respond - because commenting is off. AHAHAHS

"Just beat it." - Michael Jackson

This is not a positive post. It centres around death and mourning, and then when you think things are getting a bit better, there will be more death and sadness.

It saddens me a tiny bit to realise that when someone dies, you start to appreciate them. Michael Jackson was announced "may or may not be dead", and the radio started playing Beat It. In my mother's words: he's not even cold yet, and they're starting their celebrations already!! So my mother may have missed the point here...

But later in the day, he was confirmed dead.

I start youtubing his videos. The last time I did thiswas over six months ago. And according to twitter, I wasn't the only one youtubing Michael Jackson performances and whatnot.

Don't you see? You start to truly appreciate someone when they're no longer there. You start spinning your old Michael Jackson records (metaphorically for Youtube/Limewire, of course. I mean - records??, what are we? 1978?!) now. People start to rewatch/watch Heath Ledger movies when he died. Or in my Aunty's case - learns from her Vietnamese radio whatever that a very famous person had just died, comes over to our house to cry, learns from someone in my family who Heath Ledger actually was, then starts crying even more. Yes, I do realise that radical thinking and acceptable standard of sanity is not commonplace in my family, here. And yes, it may or may not be genetic. So what was I talking about?

I'm not even half way through half my modern history assessment yet, and am last minuting it on Sunday now, it seems. Oh, and speaking of Pope John Paul II, he is also dead.

And yes, I am starting to realise what a great man he was (I'm neither religious nor Christian).

See?? Hmm...

"We kiss, we make up." - Katy Perry

Dear blog,

So I know it's been a while since we've spoken and this might get a tad awkward... but we must talk and consolidate our relationship, or what relationship we once had.

Sure, we have our differences. I'm always out and about, hanging with my people (you know those guys with limbs). And you're always ha here and half not, clearly you find greater commonality with your groupie. And this difference had always been the source of all our jealousy-driven tensions. You wish you could grow arms and I wish I were built upon filmsy, dodgy, not-all-browsers-compliant codes. But we aren't and never will be, and that is the fact that must be faced. Well, I'm not completing ruling out plastic surgery... but that's a tad dramatic (and I'm not sure I love you enough go to that extent... no offence).

The reason we were so bitter toward one another was the simple fact that we were indeed in love. With eachother, that is (just to be clear since you tend to require exact directions for every message otherwise you'd say "code error" or some other annoying thing). We're like Chuck and Blair. The sex isn't as great but I do bring out the best in you and you the worst in me. Or whatever. But ultimately, we love eachother and fear we we'd both stuff it up if we gave us a chance. But like Chuck and Blair and Blair and Chuck, we'd be like crap (almost as crap as Dan Humphrey, but lets not...) without eachother.

I want to give us another go. Give love another chance. Give you some more time. Give ducks some more bread so they'd surely blow up and their family of ducks will surely come and attack us...

I'm not saying I will here all the time. I have a life you know *chuckle*

All I'm saying is we should be here, and we should be here together. We can go our separate ways but always have the backbone support. We can drive our separate paths, but you know when the car breaks down or when I get lost because lets face it, I am geographically retarded, I'd like to know I can turn back to you and have your consolidation and time. So in saying that, I will not be readily available everyday, or week or even month - but I'd try. We'd try.

Yes, we have communication problems. Yes, I am lame. But I think we make quite a cute weird couple, don't you? ;)