When I Grow Up

I went to The Age VCE and Careers Expo this weekend. While walking around the stands with my mum, waiting for my lovely cousin to arrive, I almost burst into tears. All this "what do you want to do when you leave school" stuff is really starting to scare the shit out of me.

jamesrajotte.net

Like Humans Do

It was sometime after 2am and once again I found myself at Balwyn McDonalds eating fries out of someone else’s bag. I was sitting at one of the benches surrounded by males as all my girlfriends had ditched for other reasons. “What’s with your jacket? And why are you wearing a beret? You always wear the strangest clothes.” said the boy to my left. My face turned to him and reeled off a reason to as why my jacket was not strange but awesome and that for $4 it’s better than any buy than anyone else at the bench. I was then informed by boy opposite who explained how he had stolen his jacket from someone, thus beating me. But the boy to my left kept talking about my fashion sense, listing numerous clothing items and then I had to explain the reason as to why I thought they were cool. For some reason I liked it. I liked knowing that someone thought what I was wearing was that unusual that they had to bring it up in conversation. Standing out in a crowd, wearing something a little bit different to the person walking down the street opposite you, everyone wants to feel a sense of individuality.

Source:nikesofiaamorina.blogspot.com

"Minds are like parachutes—they work best when open."

-Thomas R. Dewar

source: fulltimelover.tumblr.com

To Be Of Use

"In To Be Of Use, Nolan removes the traditional constructs of the portrait photograph, leaving only the detritus of human existence, a symbolic gesture of our own scars and cracks, and the very elements that make up a human life. Photographs of bottle tops become suggestions of a human presence and a celebration of imperfection...Through these overlooked objects, Nolan allows the viewers to reconsider the way we see the world around us, finding a sacredness in the broken, the banal and the abandoned."

- Lauren Tomczak

source: willnolan.com.au

Why not?

A winter's chafe

I’ve forked out a fair bit of money these holidays to make myself happy through the form of retail therapy. I never really thought that buying clothes could really make someone that incredibly happy, but when I splurged on a new Pepe Jeans jacket, Tony Bianco shoes and a Quirky Circus top, my own mother commented how she hadn’t seen me so excited in a long time. I really was overjoyed about these purchases and because I went shopping on my own I never once had to ask anyone for an opinion to persuade me not to buy it. And I’ve tried ever so hard to find a picture online of my beautiful, navy blue, cropped, gold double buttoned Pepe jacket but no luck. Nor could I find the cute cream and black striped top but I did find the shoes, although they’re nothing special.

The other day I also came across this black knitwear sweater with all these cut outs that reminded me of this Alexander Wang sweater that Rumi is pictured wearing. It was so differnt to any other sweater I had ever seen that I just had to convice mother to buy it for me. And along with my new found love of my mothers black French beret, I feel like I’m going to look like a perisian all autumn/winter long.

source: tonybianco.com.au & fashiontoast.com

Take This For Just What It Is

Fuck the rumors and whoever started them. They’ve almost destroyed a huge handful of friendships and it’s hard to try and convince people that you’re the one being truthful. Worst of all, it has to be someone that I thought was my friend, because no one else knows me well enough to make these up. And it’s not as easy as “if you ignore them, they will go away,” because if you ignore them, people will assume they’re real unless you convince them otherwise.

This is the first time I’ve had to deal with this type of stuff, I hope that it ends soon and that my friends will believe me when I tell them the truth.

source: terryrichardson.com

It was the moon that stole my slumber

Darkness engulfed the place where I sat. The only thing visible was the burning embers of my cigarette. By sheer chance, Across the Night played softly through my ipod speakers, but apart from that, the only thing you could hear was the buzzing of some electrical box. The night was still. The burning tobacco looked like a fire-lit brain, complicated nerves and membranes weaving in and out of each other. Glowing with power and force. That’s until it burns out completely and you're left with only burnt embers, a carcass and a lingering smell. There’s always some sort of evidence left behind, something that will remind you of it, but eventually that memory will fade. Everything that came with the complex brain of thoughts, dreams and ideas will be gone.