When shit collides and all you have is shooting stars

Our sister’s of Mount Carmel attempted to conform... someone. I’ve have recently put a bit of thought into the Catholic Church and what it has meant for me personally. Also, the ones around me who have been brought up in a Catholic family. I guess, like many things, it’s something that varies, depending on how religious your own family was. Mine for one, IS quite catholic, and when I say ‘my family’ I mean my mother and my grandmother, which, I guess, have had a large influence on my upbringing. Fuck It.. I’m not going to finnish this thought because, at times, it’s makes me mad! 

Once more with feeling

We are all steadfast voyeurs, bound by the simplicity of it all. 

Hold frame, no bounce qualities.

Perch, preach, sing! Laugh a little, light a cigarette, you have one.

Dance, no bounce qualities. 

Such is the scope of things. 

Once fallen, light that cigarette.

Sinister thoughts, and strangers say, oh how wonderful.

Once more with feeling; no fucking bounce qualities. 

It's a work in progress...

Recently I read an essay written by a woman who wrote about what it was like for her to be young in a city she had recently moved to. It was like reading a journal entry that spanned eight years but was summed up in roughly three thousand words. It made me think of my own journal writing and consider writing something similar to her own in the sense of trying to capture what being a young person has meant for me these past years. Which made me wonder whether this lady writer had just sat down and tried to sum it up there and then, in front of her typewriter? Or, had she read over old journals to try and renew her memory of situations and feelings worthy of been written in her brief however informative piece of writing. Then I came to realise not matter how she went about it, that is not the point at all. The fact that she was able to express herself in such a way was the key to writing a good even brilliant piece. Plus, our writing would be different because hers was a reflection rather than a a sequence of events unfolding as she wrote. I know I want to write a reflection as well, however, to run with her idea of been a young person living in a large city I thought well this is something that is unfolding around me, even at this moment as I write this. So, in a sense our writing shall be similar although different. It’s a piece that many have argued over who relates to it. While she was a young, middle-class, white women I still feel that there are aspects to her thoughts and feelings she describes that many people, not just young, middle class white women can relate to. In recent times I’ve largely strayed away from noting what takes place in my life on a daily basis or even over the weekends. Which is something I wish I hadn’t, so, starting from now I’m going to make a valid attempt to rectify this. 

Insomnia Personified

Time seems to slow down

Thoughts are what keep you awake at night

Slower than love fading 

Consciously I’m awake and numb

Subconsciously I am blank and still sleeping

Numbers hold frame like weathered windows

The house is breathing but not alive

Eleven bells chime as night falls

The whispering of the hedge snickers 

As the girl has a glimpse of eye contact 

With no one but her own reflection 

Setting the Scene

Ye Old Stoner Stories

I just realised I have a lot of ‘Stoner Stories’... I don’t even smoke weed anymore... I use to, so I guess the stories I have are old. Once (up north) I walked through the school gates with a lit joint in my hand. I was always testing the boundaries in the later days of attending Murwillumbah High School. There came a point where there was no need to collect a uniform pass anymore. The teachers came to realise they should just me be and they did. There were a few of us around the traps and it all work well, for all of us, including the teachers. I remember walking into one teachers office when having to sign-off, soon to be attending another school, an all girls catholic school in Sydney no less. The teacher said to me; ‘Leah, you are going to have to start wearing a school uniform’. I said; yeah, I guess I will. If I thought that would be the worst of my problems when entering a new high school I was sorely mistaken. 

Idea for Film...

Idea for Film...

Nude on a sofa quoting fragments of Deleuze you’d underlined sometime before you met her. 

Things to consider...

- When to pronounce voice

- Position of the nude on the sofa

- Which fragments? 

- Would one cry?

- Would one laugh? 

- Cigarette’s in the picture and or drink and or little wooden table to which one can place said items. If so, which brand of cigarette’s, Kent’s? 

Personally...

I’m not sure if I would want to watch it...

Your Majesty

Much talk about an 800 year old tree of late. 

I climbed the majestic tree with fellow fairies Amber and Debrah. Amber owns the tree, which is a statement that is not entirely true. You know, there’s the case of mother nature and, well, you can’t really put a name tag on that. I smoked a joint and it was sort of funny because I said; ‘oh no, there’s too much beauty surrounding me’ which is a strange statement to make. I mean, is that actually possible? I was so stoned, then I started to play classical music on the radio. Good old ABC classic FM, unbelievable coverage. 

Went back to ‘the stoney’, gather a blanket and lied on a rock in the sun by the creek. Then, started to have those thoughts about nothing except focusing on how I felt and thought, acid, booze and weed made for a good night but it is not something that can be done frequently. For many reasons, however I was on holidays, so it wasn’t as if I was stressed about the thought of it at all. Then I let go of all of that and started to think about how comfortable with myself I felt. Which, was due to a number of things but namely, the fact that I was on the North Coast. Then, someone called my name, it was Dinda, she said it was time to leave. 

I was left wondering when I’ll be back or when I will ever feel this way again. 

I'm currently writing a story about a girl, two boys, heroin and the church...

 It's semi serious.