why i love him

him:
you're amazing to me

me:
no im not

him:
you really are

me:
no im not

him:
yes you are

me:
whatever

me:
im not

him:
haha please just this one

him:
can you take the compliment?

me:
no

me:
i cant

me:
you know i cant

him:
please try

me:
no

me:
i cant

me:
so please dont make me

him:
hm....

me:
what?

him:
*sigh* nothing

me:
ok

me:
im sorry

him:
it's fine

me:
no its not

me:
hm

me:
why cant i?

him:
why can't you what?

me:
take compliments

him:
because maybe you've made yourself believe so firmly that you're not worth anyones time and effort so you reject any nice things they happen to say

me:
i think

me:
you're right

him:
yay for psycology

me:
that

me:
im not worth anyones time

me:
or effort

him:
no

Experimenting. [edited]

We're getting something tomorrow.

Oh what? a holiday?

No.

What about a car?

No.

We're actually getting three things.

Three cars?

No.

Cats?

No.

I don't know! Kittens?

Yes!

And that is how we came to have three little kittens. The black one is called Blackie Chan. She is the biggest and the healthiest and the bully. The white one and the black and white one are both boys. Neither of them have a specific name.


All three are gorgeous kittens. They are all a bit sick but getting better, slowly.

Very slowly.


They like sitting on your lap. Or back. or shoulder or neck or leg or arm or anywhere they fit. All three like sitting in the same place, on top of each other. They dont quite fit.
Our main aim is to fatten them up, from 600 to 800 grams. we were halfway there, until they got sick. Blackie Chan is a fatty at a massive 820 grams! But the two sickies are back to where we started.
At least they are eating now.

Everyone is jealous of us.
Everyone.


I'm going to miss them when they go. Because awww how cute are they!

______________________________________________________________


I lied. The white one was actually called: Mr White in the Conservatory with the Wrench.

Inspiration, where are you?

As I sit here waiting for my inspiration to get home I realised I was chewing on a crochet hook. Surprisingly its still not inspiring enough. So I will write out an interesting conversation with a friend.

Him:
This guy in England stood on top of a KFC and demanded chicken.

Me:
ok?

Him:
He threw tiles at the police.

Me:
ok

Him:
They gave him chicken. Then some smokes.

Me:
i see.

Him:
Then he took a nap.

Him:
It's funny.

Me:
why some cigarettes?

Him:
Its what he wanted.

Now I have come to realise there is no point in writing without inspiration. I will keep searching.

The Fly

Sally sighed contently, and leant back on one arm to take in the view. She could hear Steve buzzing happily beside her, and turned around to talk to him.
"I'm going to go with Pineapple," she stated
"Pinapple?" Steve snorted. "Clearly it's Raspberry, i can smell it from here."
The two insects playfully argued for a few minutes before they finally settled on Lemon. There was silence before Sally started chatting again.
"Who discovered this place?" she asked.
Steve considered this question for a moment. He was pretty sure it was his eldest brother a few years back, before he started taking Mortein. He used to sneak away during the night and sit on the edge of the coloured swimming pool. Steve just assumed he used to get high from the fumes of sweetness. One day things got too much for him, and they found him hours later, floating in the liquid known and Cottees.
"I think -"
His reply was cut short by the thunderous sound coming from behind them.
Thud
Thud
Thud
Both flies spun around, fearful of what was nearing them. Unfortunetly, the quick movement disturbed Sally's foothold, and - in slow motion - the fell the 5 antenna's distance into the sickly sweet liquid below.
Steve stood frozen in horror as he watched her go under but she didn't resurface. Quickly he snapped to attention and scanned the area for somthing that could rescue his friend. All he could see were thousands of blades of grass, but he knew from recent experience that if one blade couldn't last through a game of tug-of-war, then there was no chance it could rescue a full-grown fly.
Steve looked down in time to see Sally finally re-emerge, spluttering and gasping for air. Her eyes wide in fear, she thrashed around for a while, looking for something to hold on to.
Sally heard her name called, and looked up to see a terrifed Steve.
"Steve!" she screamed. "Help me. You have to help me."
She was crying now, scared of how this was going to end. Her heart fluttered like a butterfly's wings in flight. She was tiring rapidly, feeling the tide drag her under.
Steve was panicking now. He still had no idea how to get Sally out, and the creature was closing in. He leant over, his breath held, as he watched his friend go under for the last time.
'You can do it!' he thought, but at the same time his body slumped. Unexpectedly, thunder filled the air.
"There is a fly in my drink," the deep voice said, slowly and deliberatly.
A giant arm swung down like a pendulum and picked up the whole lake, flies and all. Steve flew into the air, and hovered around as gradually, the glass was tipped over. In a tidal wave, the tinted liquid gushed out, with Sally somewhere in the middle.
She lay still in a heap. Steve paused, and the flew over to her. Carefully he pulled her into a sitting position, shaking her gently.
Her eyes flickered open, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Steve pulled his arms around Sally in a hug, and they both sat there, thankful.

Love

I'm with you.

We are on a couch hidden under a doona, watching movies.

I kiss you on the cheek softly, which brings you to look at me, almost pleadingly.

I Kiss you.

We are under the doona for hours, kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other.

Hitchhiker: Part Two

He started to chat and I found myself answering some awkward questions, wishing he would just shut up again.

“Where are you heading?”

“Um, I’ve got a business meeting out of town.”

“Oh what line of business are you in?”

“I’m an electrical engineer. Why? What do you do?”

“I’m a writer.”

I snorted as I thought of all the wannabe writers I knew.

As we drove further away from the city the never-ending houses turned to countryside at last, but the questions continued.

He seemed very interested in the bomb threat, and surprisingly knew more about it than most people. I started to panic as it suddenly occurred to me that he could be a Journalist or something.

“why are you here then?” I demanded, but quickly realised that might have sounded suspicious.

“good question.” But he didn’t elaborate on this, and I started to feel apprehensive. If only I hadn’t picked him up in the first place. He was probably a nice guy but I wanted him out of the car. I had to get rid of him as soon as possible. My mind wandered as I desperately tried to think of what to do. I racked my brain for ideas - what would they do in a movie?

We both jumped, as my phone rang. I hadn’t expected this call so soon, and I definitely did not want anyone listening to this conversation, but I didn’t really have a choice. I pulled over and fumbled in my cluttered glove box for my phone.

“what do you want?” I asked sharply. “Can’t it wait?” the response I got was not what I wanted to hear. “Are you sure? Can you fix it? Okay. That’ll have to do.” I glanced sideways at John, but he was holding a piece of paper in his hands. My piece of paper. He studied it, looking puzzled. I stared at him in disbelief.

“Give me that” I snapped as I snatched it out of his hands. He looked confused.

“Sorry. It just landed on my lap. What did it say?” Encarta or something? What does that mean?”

“It’s just the password for my, uh, computer.” He didn’t look convinced.

“Hang on a minute. didn’t they say that on the radio earlier? You know, when they were talking about the bomb scare?” I stayed silent.

His eyes widened.

“does that mean…?”

I smiled in response.

Hitchhiker: Part One

The car door slammed shut. Crossing my arms, I bowed my head against the wind and headed towards the lights. It was a lot warmer inside the petrol station, so I spent several minutes wondering around, enjoying the warmth. Glancing down at my watch I decided it was time to go.

I grabbed a coke and some gum and headed to the checkout. As the cashier scanned my items I checked out the headlines of the newspapers.

“Terrible, isn’t it,” commented the cashier. I looked up to see him watching me. “We’ve really hit rock bottom haven‘t we”

“excuse me?”

“The bomb threat. Haven’t you heard?

“Of course I have,” I replied sourly. “who hasn’t?” The boy mistook my attitude as interest and continued the conversation.

“Apparently they are evacuating everyone near the city. It’s supposed to go off in the morning. I cant believe it. Nothing like this has ever happened here before!” The guy seemed excited by it all . I chose not to say anything. I payed my $4.35 and walked back outside into the cold.

“Have a good evening,” I heard him call as the door closed. I shook my head. What did he know.
I walked around the corner towards my car and almost collided with someone.

“sorry,” I muttered, keeping my eyes down.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “Actually, would I be able to hitch a lift?”

“Uh I…,”

“Just wherever you’re going is good” He persisted. I sighed

“Fine” I opened the door and climbed it. The stranger hesitated, then sat down in the passenger seat.

For a few minutes we drove down the highway in silence. Every so often I heard him take a deep breath, as if he were about to speak, but he never did. Finally I decided to break the ice.

“What’s your name?” I asked

“huh? Oh um, uh John.” he replied vaguely

“John?” I asked apprehensively.

“Yeah. John. What’s yours?”

“Peter”

“Oh.” Another few minutes of awkward silence passed. He seemed very distracted by something but I wasn’t too bothered about it. It gave me time to think.

“Do you mind if I turn the radio on?” he interrupted my thoughts. I grunted in reply.
‘…Police are concerned because it may be a link to the Encanza group. We will keep you informed about the bomb threat.’

“Did they say Encanza? Actually if its only the news I’d rather turn it off,” he mumbled, looking pale

“Suit yourself.”

Continued...

The Wizard And The Mouse

I havn't felt the creative 'rush' recently. Or rather, the only times I do are 3am.
That, and i have no time ever.

I recently got a laptop for my birthday, so i will try writing more. *try*

In other news I have to write a 1000 word creative writing piece. Not too bad, except i have no ideas!! I think i need some help - hint hint.

I asked my mum:

"write a story about a wizard with a circle hat instead of a pointy hat"

"nah mum, it would be a top hat"

"Yeah! 'The Wizard With The Top Hat'. It could be about a wizard who isnt afraid to be different. You could start it with: This is a story about a real wizard, not a Harry Potter Wizard"

"Um noo mum"

"Okay, what about 'The Wizard and the Mouse'?"

"No"

"'The Wizard and the elephant'?"

"Whats with all the Wizards! I dont want to write about a wizard!"

She was no help.

Later, as I was trying to brainstorm ideas before for the story, i decided to get out my "red book". This is a journal / workbook from my time in china last year. I thought I could write it all again on here, in a lot more detail. that would take up a LOT of posts =)

Anyway, help with the story would be nice.

Happy New Year - Again

Want to know what i did this Australia Day?

My non-Australian family had our traditional brunch with our non-Australian friends. There was the usual eggs, bacon, sausages, fried bread AND toast, and croissants. We ate a lot and then we were stuffed and laying on the couch, too full to do anything else.

A few hours later when we had recovered sufficiently, all the kids decided to put on some tattoos of the Aussie flag. There were 8 tatts in total, so we could each have one on each shoulder or toe, or butt cheek, wherever we decided to put it.

My sister brought over wet paper towel and we started putting them on. I placed it carefully on my skin so it was the right way up, and not crooked. I carefully held it in place and put the wet towel on so it could soak in and do whatever it had to do. I carefully counted to 20 seconds and then took the paper towel off.

Carefully, I peeled the backing off so it wouldn't smudge - and realised I hadn't taken the plastic cover off!

Damn!

The tattoo had stuck to the plastic intsead of my skin, and completely wasted it. Only I would be stupid enough to do something like that.

So we laughed hard about it, and my friend offered her other one to me. I carefully peeled off the plastic and put the tattoo on It was a complete success, nothing to it. I was starting to feel pretty confident with my tattoo-putting-on skills so I started my other tattoo.

I counted for the 20 seconds, and then took the backing off...only to see - I had done it again!

I LEFT THE PLASTIC COVER ON AGAIN!

Not only I did it once, but I did it twice!

_______________________________________________________________

On a completely unrelated topic, this was heard on the new that night

"...and the celebrations here have been big in the city centre on this New Years Day...uh..or rather, Australia Day"


So what did you do on Your Australia Day?

I'm A Little Teapot. Short, Stout, And Made Of China.

New Years Resolution: To Write More.

___________________________________________________


Written in English Class. Teacher wrote the first paragraph. I wrote the second.


She barely recognised herself in the mirror. Her face was guant, her skin pallid. Exhausted was how she felt. In her peripheral vision, she caught the enticing gleam of her husbands razor, stark, harsh underneath fluorescent lights.

Trembling, she reached out her hand and grasped the handle tightly. Pulling the blade against her chest, breathing heavily, she stared back at her reflection. The woman glanced over her shoulder, checking all was clear. It lay poised, waiting, against her skin. Closing her eyes, she dragged the blade swiftly against her leg, feeling the cool metal cutting through. She opened her eyes to inspect the result and smiled. It was a clean shave.

___________________________________________________


The Teapot Theory.
There could be a teapot revolving around the sun.
A china teapot.
No one can prove its not there
Yet no one is silly enoguh to believe it is.
Although, there really could be a teapot.
Then again, no one can prove it is there.

There may be one person who doesn't believe there is a teapot.
That person is a teapot athiest.