all that I know is I'm falling, falling, falling, falling

I don't know about my dreams

I don't know about my dreaming anymore

Watching James Blake live at Laneway was so surreal. It felt like I was uplifted somehow, even amongst the sweaty crowds. I haven't felt so calm and sublime for a long time. 

Laneway itself was pretty fun, even though it was a cluster fuck of people. It just feels great to be away from everything and to be sucked into the music, enjoying the ambience even though I didn't know half the artistes playing. It just felt great to be away.

touch

The warmth of another body on a bed seems always welcomed, no matter the warmest of days, no matter that the bed is made for one. The human searches for a connection in another body so different and yet so alike his own. The devil is in the details; the variations in anatomy, the mildness of scent, the intrigue of a foreign object that is dissimilar yet similar to your own. Even the lightest of touch is strange, yet appreciated. Fingertips dancing on small surfaces, fingers grasping and palms enclosing. The fleeting grazing of skin against skin, the tickle of hair on another's cheek. The smallest touches, taken for granted, are the sincerest and are laden with meaning.

These are the ones that create longing.

absolve/resolve

All it took was one meeting back in the room, the room with so many memories of movement, of voices, of self-awareness and control, to remind me why I continue going for auditions. I have been searching for an old feeling in new places, so it makes complete sense for me to feel this surge of energy in the old room where I had the first rehearsals of my life.

It is with old memories that I try to converge new experiences and to ground them to what I know. I miss the wooden floors where I fractured my wrist during a warm up, I miss the way they creak when I walk across them with slow, controlled steps. I search for familiarity in the concrete floors of my hall by taking off my shoes like I used to, but the hardness of the ground is stiff rather than dependable. There are no creaks and I do not feel rooted or certain of what I do. 

But I hold on to my old experiences dearly. I hold them close in the hope that whatever new experiences I have will be rewarding. Going back to my alma mater has made me consider the lack of discipline I've had. I let my emotions run all over the place during rehearsals. I lose my concentration. I have no self control.

No more. I will do the best I can for this play, and invest all my energies into the alumni play next. I can't wait.

Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old

Park that car, drop that phone

sleep on the floor, dream about me.

I remember listening to this back when I was 15 and falling in love with it. I forgot about it recently but now that it is 3 in the morning where I am at, I remember it again and it is still perfect in every way. Maybe more so, in the middle of the night, huddled up in my quilt, the light of the screen and my fairy lights the only brightness in my tiny room.

I'm both afraid of and intrigued by you, so now I'm just confused. I wish you were either out of my life or completely in my life. I am always confused.

to try

I think I ended 2013 on a pretty bad note and started the year wrong somehow. The past week has been strange and difficult, and I'm tensed up and unhappy. But of course, there's still hope because I've got the whole year ahead of me and many things will change. I will change. I should stop letting the small things bother me, and appreciate the people and things I already have. Look at the bigger picture Amanda. It doesn't matter if you can't get along with everyone; there are bigger things to worry about, always.

bitch, don't kill my vibe

I know what you're scared of, the feeling of feeling emotions inferior

dyeing my hair is also a metaphor

So today I dyed my hair and it wasn't meant to be an obvious colour or anything (was going for a dark brown with purplish/auburn tints) but it ended up looking like this most of the time:

It looks black, basically

Under sunlight it's a little more obvious that I dyed my hair, but none of my family members noticed a thing. I'm not upset at the results; I expected it to be like this and I didn't mind it. But this whole thing was like a metaphor for my life (lol).

Every time I try to change something about myself or my situation, nothing really changes. Small, unobservable and subdued changes occur, but not enough for anyone to really notice. This is why I never make huge new year resolutions like save a thousand bucks. It's just not possible with me.

I am so stubborn as a person to be able to change, down to the tips of hairs. What the hell Amanda. You are always so lame as a person. But it doesn't matter (usually) as long as I like who I am. Why do I want people to notice whether I'm the same or not. It doesn't matter. 

Okay, it doesn't matter as long as I don't care about what people think. And I used to care more, but now I care less. People who know me probably know I am really self-conscious; can you imagine what I used to be like, in Hwach with all those people. Ugh.

But yeah. I'm mostly satisfied. Life isn't good, but it's adequate. Like my not so obvious hair colour. I don't like to be in your face anymore. In other words dyeing my hair was pretty pointless like much of my life, but I still feel good about it so yeah I can probably live with it.

on moving my butt around

Before I even want to start a work out, I always ALWAYS take almost an hour trying to psycho myself into doing it. And this is like, 5 or 6 times a week. And in between the work out I always ALWAYS feel like killing myself. Why do I do this?? Why did I even think I can finish this?? WHAT AM I DOING THIS FOR???

And it's true, what the hell am I doing this for? Not many people are going to see the results, people assume I'm a sedentary blob and I feel like shit while doing it (does feels great after though). It's not like I'm doing it for anyone.

Well, I'm doing it for myself. Is that a little narcissistic? Maybe. Actually, more like self-obsessed and insecure. Wow this is becoming a pattern in all my posts: my insecurity. But it's true. I can't stand going back to being overweight. I hated myself all through the last 3 weeks of the semester because I stopped running and exercising because of studies. All the fats jiggling in the wrong places. Maybe it's to make up for the lack of a chest, maybe it's to just look healthier beneath my clothes but it's all for vanity. Yeah, I do want to be fitter (so I can eat more) but I also want a nicer ass and nicer legs. Not to mention look adequate next to the boy at the beach, since he's all well built and dark and handsome (but not tall).

I hate the ache and the breathlessness while moving. Is this what death feels like? It's an exaggeration, but if effort is pain then am I not closer to death? Okay, that's not true. And the pain is to remedy the convergence of my many insecurities. I complain about it but still do it because I want a nice butt. And other areas.

Yeah okay this has been quite dumb, there are more important things to talk about like Syria and the economy but I can be smart elsewhere and it's usually not here.

When I came back from Cambodia, I wanted to post something really scathing about what happened on the trip and talk about how I am unsure about service overseas.

After Christmas I wanted to post some thoughts about religion and commercialism and all that jazz.

On New Year's Eve I thought maybe I should write something, and on New Year's Day maybe I should have written something.

I just can't get bothered about people reading my shit anymore. Nothing really matters to anyone. My thoughts are important to me, but I don't know if I care enough to post them anymore. Next time maybe. This is such a time waster of a site and taking up Internet space.

Really doubting the way I am living now. The new year has come and I am still the same person. Usually bitchy in the inside but I've been voicing it out a little too much and I'm not sure if I care lol wtf Amanda but you're still insecure and shit.

Ugh.