Heavy Boots.

Note: This post has a completely unrelated happy ending.

I live in a suburb that was once solely public housingcommission. It is also wheelchair friendly so there are many disabled people living around here. It has exposed me to the reality of living in constant pain and hardship; sometimesinspiringlywonderful, other times desperately bleak.

A few days ago I was in the local pharmacy getting some cold and flu tablets. A lady in a wheelchair who I recognised but did not know by name was there too, muttering irritably. The pharmacist emerged from her office and told the lady quietly something about how she couldn't give her any more medication this month as the government wasn’t going to pay for it. Something like that anyway. I felt bad listening into such a private conversation in public but I couldn’t stop my ears so I just browsed the cheap perfume aisle and tried to look absent-minded.

After the lady had exclaimed many profanities she said loudly to nobody in particular, “No one understands what it’s like to have fuck all. You’re poor so you have to fire a cleaner? Big fucking deal.” As she turned to leave she added “I might as well be fucking dead.”

Her words hit me like a train that had been gathering speed downhill since its inception.

Suddenly, it was my turn at the counter.  The pharmacist grimaced at me apologetically, as though I should be disgruntled by the woman’s words. I didn’t feel like I deserved it.

***

The next day at work I was asked to go buy some chicken. I don’t eat meat so I despise doing this. I always get the most ethical when forced to for work...or I “forget” it on my shopping list. This time however I was told specifically not to buy organic because according to my boss “they’re just too damn expensive”.

ihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihateitihat

After leaving the supermarket I felt as though I’d personally slaughtered 50 chickens.

At some point everyone becomes a hypocrite. I guess this is mine. I do not believe in ending a life for my pleasure but I’m too worried about my boss’ scorn to object. How pathetic.  

Anyway.

As I walked into the delicatessen to pick up our ham order (YAY), the woman in the wheelchair from the pharmacy was talking animatedly to the owner. He had just IOUd her some cigarettes. As I left, she was smoking one outside; a triumphant grin on her face.

I don’t know what to think. Maybe it’s a combination of my flu, hormones and this goddamn dismal weather but these happenings have given me heavy boots.

*** 

I went home and asked people to me to link me happiness. These were the results:

[from tom]

[from sidney]

[from @zendarenn]

[from emily]

[from miko]

[from amy]

[from @jtcphysics]

Literally the Best Thing Ever: National Geographic

http://rookiemag.com/2012/03/literally-the-best-thing-ever-national-geographic/

[from anna]

8-Bit Flower Bouquet 

http://www.thinkgeek.com/product/e731/?srp=4

[from @AliceHasWords]

The 50 Cutest Things That Ever Happened

http://www.buzzfeed.com/expresident/the-cutest-things-that-ever-happened

[from @Warburton]

Lastly: 

make-everything-ok.com/

[from dan]

I love my friends. x

Pear. (with preamble)

I first put this drawing up when I was deadly bored during exams. I took it down soon after because I decided it was lame. I guess it is a bit lame.

A friend tonight said she liked it so I'm putting it up again.

I have been given confidence, enough wine...

...and it's my own freaking awful blog to post whatever I damn well choose.

So I will.

Hush, or the faeries will eat you.

LOVE x

The Music.

[^PLAY THIS^, and if you like it, you should have a read further down...]

So.

Exams have been a horrible mess so far. They're been difficult, draining bastards. All of them. 

They've left me so down in the dumps that all I want to do is fall into a bed of ice cream a caramel sadness. My head is so scrambled and I'm even beginning to question my compatibility to a scientist lifestyle. 

After three and a half years of hard work at university, this is a terrifying thought (and debt) to behold. 

All I can say is...

thank you music.

I know I often go on and on about music to the point of obsession but I'm not apologising for it. I used to, but not any more. If I can give even one person the gift of feeling the joy that I feel from the music I am sharing....listening to an artist you love give their heart and soul to you in musical form and having that pure moment of mutual auditory understanding...

one line making your heart twist like a vice in your chest.

the next making you smile broadly and shamelessly; 

the sort of smile you don't do in public because it makes you look borderline psychotic.

that feeling cannot be replicated by anything else.

pure musical love.

I would take a million haters mildly annoyed by my links and enthusiasm for ONE person to get to have that feeling. 

***

...that being said.

This girl has done that for me this week. Not only are  Heather Christian and the Arbornauts drumming up support and admiration from some seriously HUGE musical names (*ahem*Amanda Fucking Palmer*ahem*Sia*ahem*), but people from all around the world are falling for her beautiful music (me included).

I am no music reviewer...but you know the heart twisty thing and the maniacal grinning that I was talking about earlier? Yeah, that happens an awful lot when I listen to them.

Firstly, Heather Christian and the Arbornauts' debut album is TO DIE FOR. (see at top or the post if you're not playing already) and her kickstarter is an amazing feat of independent musicians spreading the love and celebrating the love they receive back. At the moment Heather doesn't have a piano because she had to sell her old one to make her last record. That means no new music...which is a tragedy. 

Heather hasn't yet reached her target amount on kickstarter, which means she won't get ANY of our money at the if she still hasn't by the end of the month...so please, if you even have a few dollars to spend, spend it here so she can reach her goal. I really want my pledged money to get to her and I can vouch for her awesomeness. 

Have a watch, read and listen and BACK THE KISCKSTARTER. You won't regret it, I promise you. 

Love to you all. x

Days.

I love snails. 

I let them crawl up and down my arms as a child 

I giggled when they tickled me.

My Grandmother boiled them.*

I remember them bubbling and swelling in the water.

They slowly tore away from their shells 

There they floated, dead and exposed to the world.

I tried to keep them safe,

like a friend keeping a secret.

Crunch.

My heart breaks when I unexpectedly break their houses with my clumsy feet.

The squelch reminds me of their slippery, fragile bodies.

Reminiscent of how much joy they used to give me,  

I feel like I've betrayed them every time it happens.

Poor snails.

*I really love my grandmother. Don't judge her. Snails are just the bane of her existence.

Flowers.

I like to draw flowers when I am between thoughts. I guess some people would call it a bad habit. They sometimes fill the margin of my page in lecture notes and assignment drafts. The ones I drew today are particularly well detailed however, which is rather indicative exactly how much procrastination has taken place. I really need this fortnight to be over. I am so tired.

But yay! Flowers! I think I will get some real ones for my room tomorrow. Study may be more bearable with their faces smiling at me.

Lead Balloon.

Dear Lead Balloon,
This is your final eviction notice.
You wrapped yourself around my wrist so many years ago and pulled me down. I cannot remember a time when it didn't feel as though I was falling.
Your string found its way down my arm and into my chest. You tug and strangle my heartstrings, cutting off my love affairs with a single motion, leaving me alone, bruised and hurting.
You moved through my arteries and lodged yourself in my brain. You've lived there ever since, leaving dirty dishes in my cerebellum and whispering doubtful nothings in my auditory canal.
I was not aware of you for years. I thought the clutter and the doubt was my own but I am old enough to know better now. I need you to let me let you go.