no im not dead. i just havent had acess to a computer and i cant update this blog all the time, ok?

my mother isnt that rich and altho i told her i need the internet for school she sadi we cant afford it but at least we have an old pc so i can type up my assignments. it sux but i cant do anything about it.

so thats why i havent postend in a while. dickheads.

there are so much people who just hate. i hate mainstream, but these people hate the individual people out there, people just trying to be themselves. fuck them.

but yeah. im at alysons house at the moment. shes letting me use her internet because me and harley and her are hangin out at her house watching dvds. its a curriculum day. we might go hang out at greensborough plaza later, go to planet 13 and look around, but none of us have money so that sucks.

nothing really's been happening lately.
oh, except mum said that ive been helping out alot lately, so if i want to, next time theres a concert i really want to go to and its not too expensive, she'll give me the money to go! so thats fucken cool.

Alyson and harely are excited too. now we just have to find a cool underage gig to go to, and some clothes to wear. all my clothes are boring.

just really quick, heres a poem i wrote last night. its called wrong number.

im sitting in my room
alone except for my little brother
we sit in our shared room like castaways on a boat
his childs mind can be occupied with so many things
the coloring book on his lap crinkles
as he joins the dots, joins the dots.

my dots are disjointed
the boredom takes over
then the phone rings
my mother is gardening
my stepdad's at work
my sister is states away, like an iceberg broken away from the land

the phone rings
the possibilities of distraction
mount
up
who will it be? a friend? potential lover?
i run to the phone
my heart bursting with hope
i pick it up and say hello
it echoes

suddenly, a foregin voice
unknown
saying
'sorry, wrong number'
I go back to my room
there will be no distraction from the boredom tonight.

there is so many fucken ideiots in the world. this anon person sent me a message. ill bold what he said and go thru it point by point.

haha. your life sux, hey, lets change it hey ?


Blog Entry Ala Emo Wanker
Today, my life sucked. My dad wouldn't let me have my own way. my teacher gave me a bad grade on my poetry cause it was crap and full of bad english. my life is so crap, im so sad, wah wah wah, i'm non-confirming, wah wah wah.

ok, first things first, this guy (or girl, ill say guy for the sake of argruement) can't read. WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK KEITH IS MY FATHER? I KEEP SAYING STEPDAD, STEPDAD, STEPDAD ALL THE TIME. DONT YOU FUCKS KNOW HOW TO READ ENGLISH?

a father is someone who watches you grow up, who you have a bilogical attatchment to. keith is just some guy who my mum started going out with when my dad wasnt around. after six months he moved his stuff in and now hes been living in my house for over a year. did i have a say in it? no. did he watch me grow up? no. he probably doesnt even know my middle name.


OR:
Blog entry ala not-so-emo-wanker:
Today, my life was crappy. My dad wouldnt pay for me to go to a concert, so i decided to get a job and earn some money myself so i could go to teh concert. I'm amazed at how much more PURPOSE I have in life now.

this one people always say. like i havent tried getting a job. well heres some information for you: i typed up a resume to work at coles (with alyson, who said they had openings). i asked my mum if she could look at my resume and she and my stepdad both said, and this is a direct quote:

YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO GET A JOB UNTIL YOU FINISH SCHOOL. YOU HAVE TO FOCUSS ON SCHOOLWORK, NOT MAKING MONEY.

so they give me $10 a week pocket money and sometimes money for other things (not often, but sometimes for concerts or secial things once in a bluemoon) but that's nowhere near enough, even if i save up for a concert.


And I realise how hard my dad has to work to earn my money, and that it DOESN'T just grow in the backyard.

oh like i dont know that money doesnst grow on trees. i have to save up for three weeks to buy a dvd you fucker. anyway keith is a security gaurd so all he does is stand around all day, litteraly.

Because my teacher told me my last poem was crap, i wrote a new one, and because it wasn't bitching about how im so non-conforming, i got a better mark.

my english teachers allways have it in for me because i write dark poetry and not the usuall 'life is great' crap they can put in the school annual.

Also, I went out with some friends and had fun.

yeah, when i can aford to, or im not grounded.

say if im not grounded and i have like $20 or something, ill ask my mum if i can go out. usualy she'll let me go to the city or the movies in the day time or something or at burra plaza with harley and alyson, but if i want to go to a party at night i always have 20 questions and have to give the house number and get dropped off and then picked up at 1 am at the VERY latest (but usualy at like 11.30 or 12). and if i go to alyson or harleys on the weekend to sleep just to hang out they say they have to drop me off and have a 'chat' to their parents.

My life isn't so bad.

how the fuck would you know, you don't know me. and yes, yes, starving childeren in africa, people dying of cancer. that makes me feel more guilty, coz i supposedly have this really lucky life and im so unhappy. so fuck you.

EMOCRACY!

we were learning about democracy and harley accidentally forgot to write the d in it when he was taking notes. we thought it was the coolest thing ever.

we showed alyson at lunch time and we said if we were gonna start a band itd be called that.

so many fucking assholes diss us for being emo. like sure, i know goths and punks had a hard time too, but we're like a new combination of both of them so we get it doubley hard. and i think a sideways fringe hairdo is about a zillion times less confrotitive than a green mohawk. and easier to do, haha.

im in a good mood today, well kind of. i dont care about any of you asshoels who say im not real. my authinticty is the most inportant thing i have, my ability to feel, be real and in the moment etc. and i know your just trying to get a rise out of me because of that. i think its just sad and pathetic. and youre all like 30 so yeah, trying to pick on a kid half your age? hah, whatever.

i think another reason im feeling better about it is that i wrote a poem about it for english last night. its due tomorrow.

so then you call me names, throw you're verbal sticks and stones
i feel the pain bounce off, it doesn;t break my bones
when i cut myself i bleed
you call it a sick deed
but you bleed to, we are the same
in humanity but not in name
i look beyond the mainstream filth
of whats expected of all your ilk
you just obey you dont ask why
yours is just to do and die.


i was gonna say mainstram shit, but its for english so i thought i better tone it down.