i think i have an addiction to iced coffee. and tea.

no wonder i can't sleep.

once upon a time there was a girl who lived.


and then she died.







yeahhhhhh you're not reading the real story i wrote. as if!

word vomit.

Hi. My name is Natalie. I’ve never weighed fifty kilos at any point of my life so far. Even if I should.

I think I’m crazy sometimes, but I’m actually just really, really, really, really sane.

My middle name means Hope. But I still haven’t decided whether I was called that because I meant hope, or if I was the one that needed it.

I don’t sleep much. In fact, last night I tried to go to sleep at ten thirty. I was still trying to get to sleep at 2:22 when I checked the time on my phone for the billionth time.

Anyway, I decided to get up because there wasn’t much of a point in just lying there for any longer. And in the time between getting up and falling asleep (finally) at three-thirty-ish, I wrote you a nice lovely not very happy story to read. Yeah.

And then I woke up again and it was 6:57. Nice, four hours sleep and I didn’t even go out last night.

So I’m really tired? Like, really, really, really tired. My back hurts. And my bones ache. And I’m hungry and I think I need to put on weight to fit into my ball dress, it seems I’ve lost a bit over the summer. Argh. Fuck. The Ball.

Did I mention that I was rambling?

But seriously. Argh. Fuck. The Ball. It’s soon, isn’t it? Two and a half weeks too soon. Oh well. At least my dress is nice.

Yeah the one that’s being worn at like every single other ball across the…town…city. Saying town makes me feel like I'm in some American gangster movie. Not really my scene.

I was going to end this really long and pointless post (Who the hell reads this shit? I wouldn’t!) right there. But just a quick note. 

Dear guys of the world: text speech is not a flattering look. On anyone. Please, you went to primary school for a reason. ‘Layta’ is not a word. And it takes just as much effort to type/text the original spelling, so why the hell do you deliberately make yourself look like a pathetic fail of a human being that can’t even speak their native tongue.

It’s not nice. And it hurts my eyes.

divulgence.

the revelation isn't that you're a douchebag. what's funny is the fact that it took me this long to realise it. i'm usually one of those people that picks up this sort of thing right away, just by judging character, behaviour, actions and all that shiz. but this time, it's taken me nearly half a year to even say it, and i feel bad, but it's the truth. you're a pathetic little sad excuse for a person, honey, and it's like you don't even know it.

what's even better is that you don't even know that i know it.

i really do feel sorry for you.

but yeah, have fun climbing your social ladder. i hope it gets so unstable you fall off and break a few bones.

metaphorically speaking of course...

illuminated

Time waits for no one,
So do you want to waste some time tonight?
Dont be afraid of tomorrow
Just take my hand, I'll make it feel so much better tonight.

Suddenly my eyes are open,
Everything comes into focus
We are all illuminated,
Lights are shining on our faces, blinding.

Swim in your sorrows,
And try delusion for a while,
It's such a beautiful lie
You've got to lose inhibition,
Romance your ego for a while,
Come on, give it a try.

Suddenly my eyes are open,
Everything comes into focus
We are all illuminated,
Lights are shining on our faces, blinding
We are, we are, blinding,
We are, we are, blinding.

objection.

The topic for discussion today is: those random foreigners that add you on facebook.

Sometimes they're from India, sometimes they're from China, Indonesia, Malaysia, and on the off chance (I've had only one occasion), Brazil. But they're mostly from India.

The question isn't why they add you. The answer to that is simple: they are lonely people, in need of friends in their newly discovered cyber world, and they've chosen you for that role. Who knows why they chose me. But the question is, HOW. Seriously, out of all the millions of people on facebook, you have 27 friends. Why am I one of them? Did I advertise that I was looking for a foreign penpal whilst in some drunken stupor? Because I definitely do not remember if I did. And you'd hope that that isn't something one forgets.

Here's how it goes. You get an invite, contemplate accepting, sometimes you leave it for a while. Then you're like, oh what the hell, and you accept. Days pass. Months pass. Years...that theory hasn't been tested yet.

Anyway, after a while, you forget you've even accepted their invite. And then one day out of the blue, you're just scrolling down the newsfeed, stalking someone's photos or half way through writting a message when they start talking to you. They say things like 'hey wassup how r u whats going on?' over and over again until you reply with something along the lines of "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

And then they're like, 'oh sorry are you busy. how is life? u live in perth? my brother he is in perth.'

Yeah. I talk to randoms.

in a hole.

no, this time the title isn't actually some weird descriptive language, metaphor, song lyric...
it's literal.

not really.

but argh i'm not having fun down south for my final week of holidays before the impending doom also known as year 12 when i could easily be chilling on some warm sunny beach letting my skin turn a nice healthy brown colour...

instead i'm slowly becoming albino, seeing as the sun here comes in short spurts and the mozzies are numerous and in love with my blood. it's rather nice, though, i must say. my blood. kidding! i think.

but yeah, who even comes to this place? molloy island. disregarding the principal of my school...*shivers*, the only people who visit are families with five kids under ten (inc. triplets), and weird fishermen guys who pop up out of nowhere and ask you how you are like you've known them for years. no sir. pas necessaire.

i'm just glad i was allowed to not go kayaking today, hence why i've managed to take hold of the internet USB that dad told me strictly not to touch, something i've obviously completely forgotten...but it's not like he'll notice, i'll be done with it before he gets back...

did i forget to mention that my dad is evidently extremely unpatriotic and wouldn't let me come back for australia day so i could chill in some rich person's penthouse and eat their fancy food? and you call this a democracy.

got a secret, can you keep it?

you don't need to keep anything from me. really. you have nothing to be hide, and anyway i don't care. i'll like you no matter what.

walk among us, if you judge us, we're all damned.

Some say you're trouble, boy
Just because you like to destroy
All the things that bring the idiots joy
Well, what's wrong with a little destruction?

maybe i was wrong about you, but i hope i wasn't.

time to sleep.

the best things in life aren't things.

there's really no way to reach me