how’s it going?

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how are we all?

We’re well into winter in sydney now, the deciduous trees have no leaves while the eucalypts feel left out, we’re wearing layers that don’t necessarily match each other and I’d had to wash a few scarves, which I rarely do because let’s be honest, who washes scarves! Well I do, sometimes, because they get dirty, but it always feel weird and I try to avoid it.

then there’s the abominable truth that I have my final exams next week and have done inadequate study, something that for me always goes hand in hand with wintertime.

ah, life and all your abrasive ugliness!

anyway, I am hoping that everyone else in the blogging world is going nicely too, whatever season you’re in, whether you’re under a good spell or a bad spell, whether last night was euphoric and hazy or you spent it crying into your pillow.

there you go. I’m a stranger who cares.

much love, soph x

marriage

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The architecture of his thoughts

were like daggers in her spine
his words dug fingernails into
her meaningless fickle mime
 
he asked ‘what do you mean’
as she quivered with dissent
he struck her hard with syntactic force
 as she crumbled to the earth
 
that night as they walked home
words echoing in indigo air
 stars were uttering tiny rhymes:
                ‘you didn’t see her,
                         you weren’t there.’

My date with loneliness

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I think I read somewhere that we become more impulsive when alone. I can certainly attest to this. One of my many unneccesssary talents involves buying  things I don’t need as comfort for the fact that I AM SO FOREVER ALONE *sad face.* I believe some call it retail therapy.

Yeah, retail therapy’s definitely my thing, so if you’re ever floating about feeling desolate call me up yo and I’ll hook you up with the most ridiculous piece of clothing you’ve ever seen. It will blow your tiny mind.

Today, loneliness and I went on another date (hence the title.) We’ve been on quite a few so far, but we haven’t really moved further in the relationship. Not that I would want to. I have this fear that once I start dining and going to  cinemas alone, there is no going back, and Mr L.Oneliness will percieve himself and I in a steady commited relationship. Ie, no more friends. Which is a sad thing.

If my life was a movie and it had a movie score called Sophie’s Theme (as it often is done that way for protagonists) it’d be very, very similar to the piece “Married Life” from the movie Up, because to be honest with you that music encapsulates my soul. I love it to pieces.

I have to go study *sigh.* So. Laterz.

and thus I return to the blogging realm

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once again I’ve returned. It’s been a long gap this time. Oh well, it doesn’t really seem like anyone’s that torn up about it.

you know what I hate? reverse parking. that thing is a beast. to be perfectly straight with you, I am considering abandoning driving entirely purely because of the fact that parking in a reverse way does not make sense.

It’s soul crushing. that’s what it is. Every time I think I’ve done it, it’ll be a loud BANG *crunch* and I will have hit the kerb. Either that or I’ll be somewhere out in the middle of the road.

and after this has happened, my dad’s advice would invariably be: “Soph, I have some advice. Get a bike.”

He literally spoke these words to me today. I abhor it. I cannot withstand it any longer.

as of today, I am hereafter boycotting driving.

sincerely, sophie

the tale of the tiny toothbrush

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Last week when I was on stradbroke island I ventured towards a secluded lagoon. It looked tranquil from a distance; the aquamarine ocean, the tiny rolling waves of sea foam, the way the water spilled and crashed against the cliffs on either side.

But as we came closer my feet felt the prickle of pain and pollution and, sadly, plastic. It was such a downer. Streaked in lines in the pattern of waves from the past; trails of tiny pieces of plastic covered the shoreline; ghostly remnants or watermarks of the morning’s high tide.

I examined the debris for a while, mildly intrigued about where it came from and wondering how much more plastic there was just floating around in the blue yonder.  Most of it was in nondescript shapes, broken and morphed by the sun and age, but there were a few discernable items.

I’m going to focus on the toothbrush.

How did a toothbrush end up on a tiny beach? Wouldn’t it be cool if we could interview the toothbrush, probe him, question him, demand that he tells us the stories of his travels?

TOOTHBRUSH: My name is Tooth McBrush (Jnr.) My father was a well esteemed toothbrush, brushing the teeth of the rich aristocracy in Madrid in the 1950’s. My childhood was simple, restful. When I reached the age of Brushing I was assigned to Colgate, with whom I was sent to North Carolina, USA for Tooth Brush Boot Camp. After five years of hard, grueling training, I graduated, was awarded my medals, shrinkwrapped and shipped off to Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam, where I was sold to a middle aged man with two front teeth missing in a supermarket. It was 1989. The work was tough. It was not what we were prepared back in the training days. But like a good toothbrush I kept my head down, eventually working myself to the highest level of brushing. My owner had the shinest teeth in his province. Then, all was lost two years later when I was accidentally flushed down the toilet by one of his clumsy grandchildren. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye as water enveloped my and I was struggling for my life in the Vietnamese sewer. I don’t have a strong memory of these traumatic days. All I know is that eventually, I survived the ordeal, being pushed out of a pipe and seeing, with a gush of relief, the sunlight again. This did not last long as again I plunged to my downfall into the deep, forboding ocean.

….I just realised that I have to go somewhere. I should probably stop here since I was probably getting a bit too carried away- I understand if you’re starting to feel a little worried, friend.

But you get my point about the toothbrush thing, right? :p

 

two posts today!

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because why not?

So… you know how late at night while in the shower you have these epiphanies. It’s a pretty common thing for me. Not all of them are exactly groundbreaking, as in often I’m just imagining cool things that could happen like if I found a wormhole under my bed or suddenly became famous. But I digress.

Tonight you could say I finally looked at myself. I looked, from a third person viewpoint, at the girl I’d been for the past couple of months and realised that there is a ton of work to do. Like tending a garden or cleaning the gutters, people need maintenance, too. I need to become more aware of that I think. Because there’s no such thing as a self-cleaning sink and no one can get away with doing nothing about themselves, physically or spiritually, and stay okay.

Then again this revelation may be just another product of the intense procrastinating I’ve been doing for  the past 48 hours, honestly, it’s been insane. I’ve never worked this hard at procrastinating before. It’s not that  I detest the assignment; I don’t think I do. But for some reason I suddenly become more inspired about something when I have other things to worry about.

I have this obsession now with casually editing photos on my phone and it’s been working quite well. You could say that they’re drastically embellished and overdone but I guess that’s just my style, I’ve been overdoing it since I was drawing with a crayon.

I’m trembling with excitement at the mere possibility of attending Splendour in the grass this year – it’s been a dream for so many years now and it’s so exciting that it might actually come true…. I’m quite excited as I love  concerts, but this would be my first festival….:) :) :)

…apologies for my lavish use of the smiley emoticon, I know they’re overused. But I’m going to keep using them in a post-ironic kind of way.

anyway, I think I’ve been having a few too many youtube binges recently. You know you’ve gone too far when you’ve watched four music videos of pop artists you don’t like, watched a billion bad X-factor auditions and topped it off with some honey boo boo child….yeah, I’ve definitely gone too far.

I hope I update this blog soon. I really do. I like having one.

photo (4)

^taken at stradbroke island

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^taken at home

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^taken the time I got lost in Macdonaldtown

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^taken at my grandmamas’