“Mother says that most people speak rubbish, and it’s not worth it to listen.”

The Piano is such a moving piece of cinema. I had no idea that New Zealand produced such a great drama. The cast was superb. I went through such a huge array of emotions, which is very rare for me in films.

The movie is about a mute woman, Ada, who is forced into a marriage by her father and is required to move to New Zealand from Scotland with her daughter. She communicates through sign language and her daughter translates, aside from that she expresses herself through her piano.

I wont say much more for fear of ruining it for those of you haven’t seen it.

I hadn’t heard of Holly Hunter until this film, and I now plan to seek out more of her movies.

Sam Neil was amazing, I’ve seen him in several other movies playing essentially the same character. I had no idea he had such a range. He made me really despise his character in this movie, but also feel sorry for him. Normally I just like or dislike a character.

I felt the same way about Harvey Keitel, at first I felt a little disgust but then really warmed to his character. He loved Ada and it wasn’t just lust. He also had a really good body for an older gentleman!

If you haven’t seen this movie yet then I highly reccomend it. The soundtrack by Michael Nyman is also amazing,

If you’re in the mood for something more light hearted and 80’s oriented then I can direct you towards Girls Just Want To Have Fun with Helen Hunt and Sarah Jessica Parker. It’s typically 80’s and a little nu-wave. It’s colourful, full of spandex, high cut leotards and rockin’ 80’s dance moves. Even though it’s based on the song by Cyndi Lauper, she doesn’t appear. But Shannen Doherty makes a cameo.

If you see any of these two movies, enjoy!

Happy Holidays!

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‘Your mom’s chest hair’

Happy Halloween.

Actually, no. Halloween this year can suck my hairy balls.

One of the worst things is seeing your family cry. Especially when you are powerless to do anything to make it better. Being mediator between family members is also a difficult job. I’m in no space to take care of others let alone myself, but I’m surprised I managed to help. Well I like to think my comforting skills helped…

It’s really disconcerting seeing your mother cry. She’s my rock, constantly there for me. But today, I felt so alone and powerless. More than ever before. It’s like something dies inside of you. You realise your mother isn’t impervious to the evils of the world.

It’s funny, having told my mother and brother just now that everything will be okay and that things will get better. I have that told to me quite often and I never believe it. It’s hard to believe that, when your brain is telling you otherwise. I’m sure most people can relate to that.

I feel like I wasted my therapist session this week, and now when I really need someone to talk to, there’s no one there.

Forever a gnome.

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Bitches love sonnets.


Watched this today. I was surprised it was on TV actually. It was the first film I’ve seen Katharine Hepburn in, she’s not a half bad actress. As always Cary Grant was dashing. I also watched I ♥ Huckabees and was thoroughly confused by it. I’m not sure I understand Existentialism at all. I’m not very good on complicated ideas and concepts, they never stick in my brain. I think Angelica Huston would’ve been better than Lily Tomlin as Vivian along side Dustin Hoffman. I do like Jason Schwartzman though, with his oily hair and thick eyebrows. He’s wonderful in The Darjeeling Limited as well. I saw Reservoir Dogs the day before. Not Tarantino’s best in my opinion. But I do love Tim Roth. He’s damn fine. That reminds me I need to get Lie To Me soon. But renting TV series is so goddamn expensive these days… dilemma!

I’m extremely impatient when it comes to online shopping. When I buy something, I like to have it NOW! Not wait 4 weeks to have it mailed to me in a big brown box or bag that’s taped up to infinity, that is also incredibly hard to unwrap. Then you spend 20 minutes of precious time finding the scissors and/or box cutter to open the blasted thing. Then you spend another 10 minutes cutting the package up swearing at it like a sailor. Finally when you’ve thrown the packaging down and sworn some more at it, you have your prized possession from the depths of the interwebs. I am at the stage where I sit very near the window constantly checking the driveway for the postman(person). It’s quite sad really, but I couldn’t find the complete works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in any of the book shops I normally go to. For the heck of it, I threw in some book about Annie Leibovitz’s work process. They are due in mid November. I can’t wait this long! I’m part of the generation that wants things now and gets things now! Gimme my books Amazon!

This probably made no sense and I applaud you for getting this far, if you have. I have started going off my medication so that is my excuse for crazy-ass-bitchness and I am sticking to it.

Excuse me while I go have my fresh squeezed orange juice.

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“teen mom punches fiance in front of baby”

This lady makes me want short hair again. I’d love to be able to pull off a Mia Farrow hair cut. Damn you! It’s taken me so long to grow my hair out and now I want to cut it? The woes of being a female. This always happens doesn’t it? The ‘wanting what you can’t have’ thing. That sucks.

At least my cold is getting a little better, no more sore throat! But now I have a more painful, more embarrassing malady. Woe is me etc etc

I need to update my pro flickr account soon. I don’t know if I should, I plan to make a website for my photography etc really soon anyway and having a flickr seems a tad redundant. Sometimes I think my stuff is no where near good enough to make my own website and convince people to buy prints. I’ve even been considering setting up a facebook page to go along with the said website. But then my self doubting has to take precedence doesn’t it. What if no one ‘likes’ it? Ah fuck you popularity and friends! I don’t need you! I just want a little validation, man! I want to know if my ‘photographs’ are actually good and that I could go somewhere with it.

There is rarely a day that goes by that I actually like my photographs/drawings/art/pretentious hipster creative outlet things. Having low self confidence doesn’t help that of course, but I guess that’s the curse of being ‘an artist’ or ‘a photographer’ or whatever. I mean there are so many really young and talented people out there who have so much of their work published in magazines and on websites etc. And most of the time they’re 16-17 but even then, the can be even younger. They’re still in school! Most of the time it’s just a hobby to them! They have other hopes and dreams and other career aspirations. I have nothing else going for me! Photography is all that I have. Don’t take that away from me you tiny bastards!

Hopefully I get through this course and have a diploma in photography or whatever it says. Then I’ll feel a bit better I think. “Those pro photographers think I’m okay! I must have -some- talent!’. That is what I will say to myself. I shall be a professional amateur in no time!

Ah fuck that, I’m gonna watch Total Wipeout and drink.

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Do you have a favourite-sounding word? My top-five are “ointment,” “bumblebee,” “Vladivostok,” “banana,” and “testicle.”


I watched this movie this weekend. It’s wonderful, I enjoyed Harvey Krumpet, but this is even better. I can’t believe it took me so long to watch it! I also saw The Losers as well, it was rather good. I do enjoy a good action flick every now and then. I do like that there seems to be an influx of movies based off of comics/graphic novels.

Hooray for me, I have ANOTHER cold. I just got over the last one. The cold fairy seems to favour me somewhat. I wish it wouldn’t. I probably shouldn’t smoke so much with a sore throat. It seems odd to me, that I have a sore throat but I have no throat left to be sore. The Phantom Tonsils. Now that could make for an interesting story, then again maybe not.

I have been driven mad by my latest photography assignment. Every time I see numbers now, I keep thinking of shutter speeds and apertures and RGB numbers and Zone numbers. I may develop a nervous tick. Dear strangers, if you see me twitching, I am not that insane, just a little from the confusing subject that is photography. Don’t study it, you’ll go mad. Soon I’ll lop off my ears or nose or something.

Oh the pain of being a creative soul! Well not really, it’s just annoying sometimes. It’s handy having a father who knows his stuff about photography. And patents for genetic research. I wish he didn’t have to work so much, it’s not fair. His American colleagues see him more than I do. Damn you! He’s being forced to take a long and much needed holiday this Christmas and New Years. Hopefully I wont be dragged to Phillip Island again. Bad memories. Heres hoping for a different location this time.

Maybe I should stop rambling and tuck myself into bed. That sounds like a good idea.

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Here’s a kitty for you.

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Ho hum.

I’m trying so hard to distract myself from myself. I don’t know if that even makes sense, but I’m going mad in my own head. It’s not comfortable, I feel so uninspired and unmotivated and lots of words that start with ‘un’.

I’m dreading going into Centrelink to be interviewed about my ability to work. Which is zilch by the way. Why do I need to have an interview if I have a doctors certificated stating so? It’s not fair and I’m stressing about it. I’m full of stress and I really have nothing to stress about. I spend my days waking up in the late morning, getting some breakfast and spend the day on the internet and watching television or a movie I’ve seen many times before. Sure a lot of people might think, ‘Hey, that’s not so bad! I wish I could do that.’ Well actually you can, it’s fine to do that every once in a while, but when that’s your life it’s not so fun. I’m physically incapable of doing exciting fun activities. Chronic Fatigue and Depression do that to you.

I honestly don’t know why I go on tumblr so much. It’s full of angsty teenagers who think they’re depressed or want to be. Why would anyone want a mental illness? I wouldn’t wish what I’m going through on my worst enemy.

I know that people say, ‘There’s someone out there who has it worse than you. Count yourself lucky’ or something along those lines. But whenever someone says that to me, it just makes me feel worse. One of the really awful parts about depression is the constant guilt you feel. About nothing in particular, but it’s there and it weighs on your whole being and it doesn’t go away. I know I’ve got it pretty good. I’ve got a great supportive family and access to good mental health resources, but my case is ‘atypical’. That’s what they say in my report anyway. What that means is that I’m a little different to your average sufferer of depression. And what that means is that, well, they’re at a loss with what to do with me. I’m on my fourth medication in 2 years and nothings working, I’m still feeling just as awful as I was at the start of this whole thing.

The Cognitive Based Therapy doesn’t work for me either, not at this stage anyway. It just doesn’t work for the way I think, and I’ve been sad and pessimistic and depressed for as long as I can remember. It just took year 12 to send me over the edge. Before I thought I handled things pretty well, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t dealing with anything at all. I didn’t deal with my parents divorce or being bullied. I bottled it up and pushed it away and tried to forget about it.

One of my many therapists told me I should try and set up a support network of friends. I’d like to, but then again it’s not fair on them. I mean, I can’t deal with my problems and I don’t want to dump them on others. I feel awful every time I complain or tell a friend about what’s going on for me. And then theres the dreaded question, ‘How are you?’ I have an automatic response for that now, ‘Yeah, not too bad’ or ‘Yeah, I’m okay’ but really I’m never okay. I feel guilty for lying, but it’s just easier that way. I would kill to be ‘okay’.

Things are just hard. I feel close to tears a very large portion of the time. I’m struggling to hold onto that last thread of hope. Will I ever be okay? Will I ever be normal? Will I live past 20?

I don’t know, know one knows. And that’s fine, for now.

I’ll find the answer someday. Someday in the future.

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