vagabond soul dancer

I love how that (phrase? clause? idk) sounds. It's from Robert Dessaix's (oh god, everything from him is designed to challenge my literacy skills - can we even put apostrophes after x?) novel Night Letters which just so happens to be our new novel in English Extension, and I'm actually really liking it. A lot of it is pretentious, but that completely escaped me until it was the focus in class the other day, bc I usually like the pretentious texts which assume you get all the inter textual references they make every other page. 

Just got back from our weekly grocery shopping trip and my feet hurt like fuck. I thought it would be a good idea to wear heels today. God I am so impractical sometimes. But the lower half of me is so cute today. 

Nearly cried in the car on the way back, when my mum was talking about her early days as an international student, and all the things they did to save money bc to get out of china one needed to take out a considerably large loan at the time (communist china sucked. Everyone was poor) and it was meant to be funny and these other old Asians (I have no idea who they are, I just know they have a son here, and a granddaughter who is half Chinese and half Korean and tag along with us every Saturday sigh) laughed along and so did my mum but I was trying my hardest to not burst into tears bc it makes me feel like an ungrateful and spoilt little brat. I owe so much to my parents, and it's something I can't (won't) forget. Especially when I complain about not having a life bc of school and wanting to ditch an ordinary life in favour of something exciting. Life out of a suitcase. 

Everything makes me want to cry nowadays though. I don't understand myself. I've changed a lot. I barely even remember how I used to be. I used to be really conscious of how i act or what I say, and I made an effort to be less antisocial and be all peppy and not scared of people which I am glad I did because now I'm pretty damn good at small talk with like old people or strangers when the need arises, but I literally just say whatever shit comes to mind now around people I know and it ends up more awkward than small talk lol. They are probably thinking "fuck what the hell happened to her over the years". 

But I'm having all sorts of thoughts I never had before. Sometimes I'll hate how I look. Sometimes I'll hate who I am. I guess it's just because I feel the time for deciding who I am, goals or whatever, is coming to an end and i should be the girl I want to be by now. 

Long overdue camp photos. Last three aren't taken by me. Was a really good time, for many reasons 

Coffee is ridiculously photogenic. It's become a routine for me and my sister to visit this cafe on Sunday afternoons. 

Lol

Friday trips to Towers 

School drags the life out of me

Goals

Sister

Told you it was cute 

Want both of them omg

je malheureuse, je suis responsable

Godard's Nana Kleinfrankenheim in Vivre Sa Vie makes a lot of sense. I love French films for that. They always have the best quotes. 

There's an entire scene in that movie which was earth shatteringly clever but simple at the same time, and as I nodded along I couldn't help but feel a longing for who I used to be. 

[voila, the scene when Nana meets with Yvette and Yvette says it's not her fault she's miserable]

Moi, je crois qu’on est toujours responsable de ce qu’on fait… Et libre…

Je lève la main, je suis responsable. Je tourne la tête à droite, je suis responsable. Je malheureuse, je suis responsable. Je fume une cigarette, je suis responsable. Je ferme les yeux, je suis responsable.

J’oublie que je suis responsable, mais je le suis… Après tout, tout est beau…

Après tout, les choses sont comme elles sont… Et la vie, c’est la vie.

This is how I think. This is how I used to think. I haven't been the most rational person in the past week though. I've been a mess, if I'm honest. Because I don't know how to feel, or why I feel so much at once, because I'm so used to not caring that I don't know how to stop caring about someone. I want to ask so badly what it is that went wrong, or if anything's wrong at all because if someone was doing something that pissed me off or upset me greatly I would speak up, but I can't bring myself to chase after him when he walks away. 

People confuse me so much sometimes, and it scares the fuck out of me that one day can literally change everything. And then I hate myself for not doing anything to change it when I can and should. I've played this game too many times before, so I understand if he is avoiding me, because that's what I did as well, but I never thought it'd hurt this much being the recipient. 

I will do something about it, I promise. 

But it's not just him, to be honest, I'm just having a shit time at school. There's so much work to do that I live in a perpetual state of panic, and I'm sad when I think about the amount of people around me who are too complacent to live any life beyond the mundane ritualised tedium their parents have in mind for them. And that some are ok with it. It just makes me want to work harder so I can see the world, while swearing under my breath that I won't let their reluctance affect me. I'm not scared because others are, that's just stupid. 

We've found a place for schoolies though, and I must say that it's pretty sick. We're heading to Avoca Beach, which happens to be near Terrigal, which is where half my grade happens to be going. Found out the other day that when people said Terrigal, they actually meant Avoca Beach so now I'm kind of pissed that there's gonna be so many people there. The house is actually amazing, there's one room which looks like the room where we first meet Daisy Buchanan in the movie. I'm going to have a blast photographing that. 

My friends, lovely as they are, aren't very keen on getting drunk though, and really, it's probably going to be the only thing I want to do so I can forget the entire fucking HSC year. 

Also, I'm really excited that we're doing Ted Hughes' Birthday Letters in English and that the whole focus is going to be the decay of his marriage with Sylvia Plath, because she's my favourite poet ever. No one understands just how excited this makes though, or how Sylvia Plath's poetry literally gives me tingles over my whole body, and makes me want to cry half the time, because of the sheer magnitude of her emotion in her poems.