James' blog

5 minutes on the phone with a pleasant but withdrawn sounding recorded voice and I’ve lodged my preferences for the 2006 NSW University entrance applications process.

“Six Zero Nine – Three Four Five: University of Technology Sydney, Bachelor of Arts in Communication (Social Inquiry) and International Studies”
To confirm press 1.

Another four courses added – I’ll change them a few times before the December closing date.

                        15 tracks
15 years old
        15 days
fifteen

I slowly opened my eyes, remembering I had contacts in, and half-consciously said to myself “I feel like a train’s hit me!” – an unfortunately morbid statement considering the events of February this year.

Whole right side of my body numb – the side I was lying on, dry mouth, heavy eyelids – that “collapsed on bed due to exhaustion and just slept in jeans” feeling.

Eventually worked up the motivation to move – noticed the cute tufts of “sex hair” I now have in the mirror [kind of like Jess' used to be 'cept at the back] – poked around in my eye, and removed the little plastic parabolic discs which were letting me see.

I enjoy mirrors. They … let me see and communicate with someone I have the strongest connection with that I’ll ever have.

I slowly opened my eyes, remembering I had contacts in, and half-consciously said to myself “I feel like a train’s hit me!” – an unfortunately morbid statement considering the events of February this year.

Whole right side of my body numb – the side I was lying on, dry mouth, heavy eyelids – that “collapsed on bed due to exhaustion and just slept in jeans” feeling.

Eventually worked up the motivation to move – noticed the cute tufts of “sex hair” I now have in the mirror [kind of like Jess' used to be 'cept at the back] – poked around in my eye, and removed the little plastic parabolic discs which were letting me see.

I enjoy mirrors. They … let me see and communicate with someone I have the strongest connection with that I’ll ever have.

i feel like shit though

Waking up this morning, having tuned into ABC Radio National’s AM News Program, I experienced the day’s first hit of cynicism.

“George Bush and John Howard had the first informal meeting in an
upcoming week of talks yesterday, attending St. Patrick’s Church, located
next to the White House. The two, accompanied by their wives sat in the same pew in which the President has traditionally sat for the last 150 years”

– ‘great’ methinks ‘two stupid old men, getting off on invading countries, going to church together’
*sigh*

… another chapter begins

“Ceasefire in pieces” cries the UK’s Scotsman, “Family says bomber ‘brainwashed’” reports BBC News.

I sit here all content whilst elsewhere people are being torn apart by bombs, or grief. A guy living in Leads, the same age as me, blew himself and 30 other people up last week. Ripples sped across the globe: a screaming white trail of horror, a blood-thirsty red stream of hate, suffocating charcoal-black fear.

People united people divided. People expressed sympathy, whilst others … well … celebrate a successful attack.

In about 5 minutes, I am leaving for my pick up stop for the mini bus going out to Goodooga. Over the next week, I’m travelling out to the Lightning Ridge area, on a social justice Aboriginal Immersion program.

Completely unprepared, having never met any of the 20 or so people who I was travelling 750km with to a town who’s name I’d never heard, to experience one Aboriginal community for four days, I put the last few things in my bag, toothbrush and wallet, put it in the back of Dad’s car, and got driven up to Springwood.

The trip, run by the Edmund Rice Centre, was a great experience and I’d recommend anyone interested in social justice given the opportunity to go to definitely take it up.

I’ll hopefully write a bit more about it sometime

the flashing cursor burns a line on the back of my retina, urging my fingers to move across the keyboard, my mind to spurt out endless amounts of meaningless words, sentences so stuffed with padding, that when it is all removed, no message remains

Ashleigh once said of her desire to blog

(I need)… a little pensive therapy…some literary relief…

I used to blog often, less and less as time wore on. It is hard to these days.
There is light at the end of the tunnel, but I think I prefer the dark. Cold, gloomy days, conducive of deep thought, an awareness of the universe unattainable in the blinding sunlight. The power of a storm.

LP [Last Posting]
January 2005
Klokwerk, Ashmo
September 2004
Corinne on [T-MT]
August 2004
Smurf, Hannah
May 2004
Jess