Twist when I shout.

So exaggerate and tr-tr-tr-tr-trick me.

I pressed the soles of my feet against the window pane

and let my head dangle off the couch.

I watched the sun go down and heard about something

that feels totally disconnected from me.

It's so so weird.

mmm, I just don't know anymore.

Here's a random picture thrown in for good measure.

Qi Xuan and I danced in our seats and I dropped my hotdog,

causing a disturbance of huge proportions,

and various dirty looks thrown in our general direction.

Linguine wears red chucks and checkered pants!

Ooh yahhh, like, Garbage Boy is like, so hot right now?

Yahhhh totally!

*

I want to be the hoopiest frood you'd ever sass in the galaxy!

They'll say, "Now, Taina. There's someone who knows

where her towel is."

I'm such a geek.

It even has golden page edges.

I could just die.

A million hearts.

A million bubbles, a million wishes.

It's great cause I don't need to hide these in the drawer,

and they won't smell like artificial strawberries gone wrong.

Bend your arms to look like wings.

I like hobo-ing with Clara on the Youth Park sign,

and I imagine us doing this until we're old,

until we get scurvy from the copious amounts of cup noodles

we would have consumed by then.

Oh I hate how you creep into my conciousness,

but it's not like I've set my mind on banishing you from this existance.

My existance.

You sneak into my daily conversations.

You appear in my wandering daydreams.

You pop up at the end of equations.

Connections, memories, references.

But it's better now.

I told Clara that I feel like Real Life has stopped,

and this is like, In-Between Time.

I don't really know what that means but.

Hey start the machine up again please.

I think I'm forgeting, just the way that I said I won't,

just the way you said you didn't want me to.

*

I implore you to read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy,

or at the very least watch it.

Cause it is awesome random shit that you won't regret.

I could rock a rhyme to just static.

Used to be one of the rotten ones and he liked you for that.

Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that.

Now you're all gone, got your make-up on and you're not coming back.

Can't you come back?

Bleaching your teeth, smiling flash, talking trash, under your breath.
Bleaching your teeth, smiling flash, talking trash, under my window.

Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.

I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.

My day to day existance consists of a lot of
sitting around and occasionally making notes.

I doubt that I can go on like this


for very much longer.

*
Oh too much, too too much Fight Club.

Oh Tyler, deliver me from my cluttered wall decor and meaningless furnishings.
You once owned these things, and now they own you.
Sure, said Tyler, but you have to do me one favour.

I need you to hit me as hard as you can.

Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns,
I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect.

Only after disaster can we be resurrected.
*

I am Jack's broken heart.

Now this angry little girl.

So we sat at Mcdonald's last night, making feeble attempts at conversation that just wouldn't last due to the general feeling of desentment with our then surroundings and our aching shoulders & feet which resulted in our brains shutting down.

Do you want to know why there are so many kids loiterring around, looking bored and listless, occasionally acting out and causing trouble [for you? Do you really think it's all for you?]

Because there really is nothing to do, and nowhere to go.

Yeah yeah, we have nice homes and families, money in our wallets, and oh yeah, studying to do.

Can't we go back to our said homes and have dinner with our said families?

But I'm an ungrateful teenager, bear with me.

This emptiness and purposeless-ness is killing me.

But otherwise, I had a nice day with Lydia Liao.

I think next week I should haul my ass down to Macpherson to visit the extended familyyy.

I've avoided it for a few weeks now, I suck.

*

I think I'll head down to the Esplanade to catch Caracal, try to sell off the crap ceedees in my collection for a little extra cash to that second-hand place and then dinner with Mother.

Today has been a total and complete utter waste of time!

I'm learning to breathe.

My lousyyy virgin attempt at making a video.

I like the last bit though.

I love you guys.

*

It's okay to bite down on your fingernail until it bleeds.

It's okay to hit your ankle against the table leg until a bruise forms.

It's okay to hurt yourself in small ways.

This is the point where you stop.

Last night at 12, I felt immense.

We wanna see you sing

Over and over again.

Baybeats.

Caracal, Plainsunset, AVA, The Fire Fight and more.

They played my favourite songs, and gave me new things to love.
I loved KC and …Field, was it? Up on the speakers, dance dance dancing.
The bass drum mirroring my heart beat.
The lights dancing before my eyes.
I could even forgive the stupid kids who insisted on moshing to songs that were unmosh-able, because [almost] everything was beautiful, my shit could be forgotten for awhile.

I felt distracted during AVA. I saw you for like two seconds, and if I were feeling strange, I’d say that the vast crowd hiding me from you was a pretty metaphor for how far gone we are now.
But it’s okay.
You just didn’t see me, is all.
You look good, in your element.

I love how AVA makes me feel alive.
Sometimes this weariness weighs on me too heavily.

And Plainsunset.
Was just heaven.
[I remember days at Wakemeup and homework and you trying to help, haha]
You people are GODS.

I wish for this time last year sometimes.

I started with Beat, Clara, Bry and Regina, and ended it with them.
It was a hasty thrown together bunch on Saturday : Eva / Abby plus respective friends.

Oh and my lovely new friend Phyliciaaaaaa!


Phylicia: *pokes Taina’s nautical star* You are such a rebel, you!
Taina: *points at Felicia’s piercing below her collarbone* You are such a rebel, you!
*

*cheena pok accent* YOU ARE FUCKING AWESOME!

*

And this is the part where I close my eyes and think of you and sing.

My favourite part.

I'm a pirate, you're a princess.

You're not hopeless, or helpless.

I'm excited, it's Baybeats!
*

Until you say you deserve better.


We'll do the denial twist.
Or maybe, I'll just tango alone.

It's getting olddddd darling.
People are getting mighty bored!
Time to bring out the good old boxstep, to bide time.
Cause we're going around and around again.


*
Jack and Meg White make gorgeous music.