“Unphotogenic”

The universal (read: first world) problem: looking good in the mirror, but not in photos. This used to be a mild annoyance before social media and selfies, now it’s an unforgiveable sin.

There are people who look good in photos, and people who don’t. But even the people who look unbelievable on camera don’t look half as good there as they do in real life. ad_126961426.jpgTake Kate Middleton for instance. We can all agree she’s beautiful right? Absolutely stunning, and yes photogenic. However I once saw her in a parade in cambridge New Zealand, and ever since then any photos can’t even compare to how beautiful she is in real life! It’s like she glows, and that’s impossible to get on camera.

Another example, the cute boy on campus (who I have yet to be brave enough to speak
to). Gorgeous, magical, looks like a rockstar on drugs just before they crash and burn. But in photos he looks entirely average.

So what is it? Is it our ‘air’, the way we carry ourselves, our expression, our moods? I think that maybe it has a lot to do with the fact that in real life we are able to perceive moods, and personalities, or simply ‘vibes’.

None of this helps me look cute enough to update my facebook profile picture, but it makes me feel better about it that’s for sure.

 

First Fortnight

A brief overview of the past couple of weeks.

On the 30th of January I moved into my room in the student apartments on campus. The first week was so lonely, nobody else had really moved in yet, and the people that had I never saw anywhere. I could just hear them in the middle of the night. So I was completely alone in this unfamiliar place, and feeling a lot lonelier than I’ve ever felt doing correspondence schooling. It was hard. To be honest I was a little bit teary, especially when I got back after a weekend at my parents house.

My course started on the 8th, lots of orientation type programs with everybody in my certificate umbrella, which is where I met everybody and made friends and saw people I already knew which was a nice surprise. That made it so so much easier. My first class was great and I’ve since developed the habit of hanging out in the student hub with friends. Night before last I even made friends with two of the girls I’m living with, and we had a long chat in the kitchen and shared ice cream. Suddenly the apartments feel like a home. Funny how that works isn’t it.

It’s hard being dropped into an unfamiliar situation, away from home with nobody around and also no money. But I couldn’t even consider giving up, this certificate is costing way too much and sometimes when you do things out of instinct you can’t seriously think about doing anything else.

The problem now  is to actually pass the certificate, pass our national college (high school) qualifications as well, and find a way to fund a degree at an overseas university (a long time dream of mine). Fingers crossed the next two weeks keep going well!

Student Loans

As it stands right now, after my first semester at uni this year, I will be somewhere between 10-15 thousand dollars in debt (roughly). Not including accommodation loans as I’m not eligible for some reason. If I continue into the second semester, it will climb to around 20 k+.

I don’t want to start off my adult life struggling to pay my board and already several thousand dollars in debt. How’s that for a starting point? Continue reading

Chaos

I am a strange mixture of laid back and high strung. But even at my most carefree and blissful, I thrive on chaos and madness.

My absolute favorite form of chaos is the part when the whole place goes dark right before the act comes on at a concert, that’s a rush I live for.

Crazy, dramatic, insane things happening fuel me. Isn’t life just better when it’s interesting? That’s when there’s something to do, something to think about, and usually an objective to work towards. I don’t mean times when something really serious and awful happens of course, those times are just draining.

Life should be interesting, and the more interesting the better. ‘Chaos’ could be a small fight at school during lunch, which is over in five minutes. Or it can be when each and every single person that happens to be in the same group at the same time collectively goes insane. The latter is the most fun.

Self-Imposed Standards

Right now I think that there’s a huge focus on body positivity in pop culture, particularly in supporting and uplifting others. Which is wonderful and good for everyone, however personally I have never once looked at somebody and even paid attention to their outward appearance. I notice, sure, but I don’t go looking for flaws or comparing them to others. But I do compare myself. I go over myself with a fine tooth comb, over and over and over. I hold myself to an impossible standard, nor can I forgive myself for every single little flaw I have.  Continue reading

The Girl Behind The Veil

Once upon a time there was a little girl. Her hair fell around her in long, loose curls.

She floated around her whole life long, dreaming her dreams and singing her songs.

But soon the little girl found that her head was in the clouds, and other little girls kept their feet firmly on the ground.

She asked another little girl to play one day, and that girls’ voice came to her as though from very far away.

The voice left a dent, a shadow, a trace, on what the little girl decided was a veil hanging over her face.

She felt so much and still so little, she dreamed of running away with the cat and the fiddle.

There must be a veil all around her she thought, one so very clever that it would not be caught.

Try as she might to catch it unaware, still it lurked, reveling in her despair.

She wanted to feel the grass beneath her feet, and she wanted to taste what she sat down to eat.

To experience sensations just like others as young, she often came quite close, getting a taste at the tip of her tongue.

But yet the veil clung to her still, until it was more like a bubble that was making her ill.

It grew and it grew and it grew, eventually the little girl gave up on ever breaking through.

She sat in her bubble that only she saw, whilst other children played and on the breeze floated their calls.

As the bubble grew stronger it began to float. The little girl didn’t even notice when she passed the pretty blue boat.

Our tale could continue, it could and it should, through snowy mountains and dark old woods,

But the truth is the little girl floated astray. For all we know, she remains out there to this very day.

Musings

Sometimes it’s like I don’t exist to other people. They hardly exist to me after all, they are close but separate. Like theres a pane of soundproof glass in between me and other people and all I can do is watch people destroy themselves. It’s easy for me to say I could have helped them when everything is clearer in hindsight.

Like a war. Everybody is confused and scared but they always end the same. People die, it ends, and we pick ourselves up, add a few patches here and there and carry on.

I never understood war. It’s like the phrase “the pen is mightier than the sword”. War is the most sadistic counterproductive thing I could think of! Is it much more immediately satisfying to punch somebody in the face? Fuck yeah it is! But that only lasts for a day. The key to winning anything at all is to educate.

People are always going to oppose what they don’t understand.

The only people who are a threat is an idiot with power, or an intelligent man amongst sheep waiting to be herded. He may start off as a good man but it’s so much easier to tell somebody to do something than to do it yourself. Thus he becomes a dictator; dehumanising those working for him and becoming the idiot with power.

Short Story #3

It is not often that I come down to earth. In all honesty I don’t think I ever have. I am always spinning and whirling through the cosmos, kissing the moon every night and the sun every morning. I don’t come down to earth, I just graze the atmosphere. Slowing… slowing… stopped. For this blink of an eye, an insignificant second I am not caught up in my celestial party but instead I am observing life on earth in all of it’s glories and miseries.

Once I stopped above a forest somewhere. I don’t know the time, or location, only that it was a forest. It seemed to exist outside of the normal realm of existence just as I do. While paused I bore witness to the hatching of three bird eggs in their nest. The baby birds had decided that they were ready to meet their strange little world and so had freed themselves from their shells.  I whispered about it to the stars that night. I swear that they burnt a little brighter.

That was one of the earths glories.

But where there is happiness there must be misery also, for how else are you to appreciate happiness? The misery I witnessed was somewhere very barren. Lots of mud, no sun, and not an awful lot of comfort to be seen on any of the faces I was inspecting. Once more I’m unable to tell you of the time or location. All I can tell you is the look on the adult faces, or rather the lack of expression. The blankness reminded me of the black holes that I must avoid in my bliss. Hundreds of people somehow plastered with nothing. Babies squirming, and small children drawing in the mud and clutching their clothes tight to their shoulders. It made my stomach twist up very tight. For a long time afterwards I couldn’t attach myself to any shooting stars or comets. Instead I hovered over the bad place and silently hoped for their troubles to end.

There have been cities full of rioting, crowds of mourners, parades, weddings. So much pain. It should drive me away, it does most. But the endurance of the people I see is fascinating to me. I’ve never stayed in one place for longer than a day on earth, I have no concept of love or struggle, pain or joy, anger or mischievousness. In some ways the people of earth are much more volatile than any supernova.

End of the Road

I have to be honest. I am really not in a good place right now. I can remember exactly one full, proper meal that I’ve eaten in the last fortnight or so, and I haven’t slept in two days. It’s not great.

But what’s bothering me is the fact that this is it. For me, this is all I get. For various reasons, I don’t get to have a career. I don’t get to get married and have lots of babies. So this is it. I can’t work a regular job, so I guess I’m just going to have to stay living with my mother until I die in about thirty years. I’m not just being negative, it’s just the situation that I was born into.

That doesn’t make it fair though. I don’t have money, I don’t have health, I don’t have happiness, and I won’t ever get any of those things. Chronic illness is a bitch. I’m naturally a very ambitious person, I can’t accept things being as they are especially when I know that in some parallel timeline I could have should have. The only way I’ll ever get close to being able to have a life is if I miraculously get a stroke of inspiration and get really really REALLY lucky. New zealand isn’t a good place to be ambitious even for the healthiest of people.

Creators and Jobs

I’m a big believer in doing what you want to do and what will make you happy. Unfortunately nowadays it’s impossible to survive on twenty bucks here, and ten bucks there. So that makes it difficult for those of us who begin to suffocate at the mere thought of having some boring office job.

Of course this is all our fault because we’re entitled millennials who have no work ethic 😉

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