I'm aware that Deakin has lower entry criterion. I'm also aware that I don't always hold this university in high regard. But I'm not sure where in this context you think you can act as condescending as you do, and make out as if somehow what I'm doing isn't really legitimate.

I know I'm not as smart as you, but maybe you should not think less of Deakin's standards and instead consider more my ability when I say achieving here doesn't seem that hard.


H.

I'm worried that you're always going to want more than I can give. I'd like to pretend to myself that this situation is only for the time being, but somehow I know that life is somehow always going to be like this. I try my best, which I'll admit is sometimes just not good enough, and for that I'm sorry.

I love you. I'm not afraid to say that. I just hope you can love me enough (back) to see through my flaws.



H.

Everything seems so overwhelming, almost as if this life is the epitome of success, one can't survive without the other. What happens when you have neither?

There's a reason I avoided reality today. 


...and I'm not sure exactly what that is, though it feels remarkably like deja vu (I've been here before).


I wish I could like you. I really do. I'm not sure what's changed, me or you or the both of us, but somehow I find myself avoiding. Always avoiding.


fuck, I hate even myself these days.


H.

Words can't bring me down.

And yet, sometimes I just feel so insecure.

Like now, and then, and sometime in between.


Don't you bring me down today.


H.

This is how it is.


You get up in the morning, wiggle your toes, phone your mum, check the mail and go to bed. And then the next day you do it all all over again.

That's life.






H.

You can now call me racist. (along with everything else you've been throwing at me)

H.

Sometimes.

I,

Just wing everything. Flying by the seat of my pants, as they say.

I want to go to South America.

Or I just want to leave here.



This life seems old. Slow. Stale.

I
Just
want
to
tear the wings off butterflies.


I think I want to be cliché and be a doctor in some poor country. And help the children. My current contribution just seems so damn insignificant. One child. Out of how many?

I also don't think writing letters to my sponsor child would serve any purpose but to inflict guilt.


Sometimes its good to fail. To try, and fail. Just to know what I can't achieve.

H.

Rules that exist to serve no apparent reason.

People who shuffle past you attempting to leave their seat at the football at key moments in the game.

Old fries.

People that are rude just because they can.

Clothes that shrink in the dryer.

Turning the washing machine on without remembering to put the water outlet back into the drain.

Unironed shirts which are worn out in public.

People who are needlessly difficult.

Having to explain things a second time.

Low sound quality tunes.

How cold your nose gets when its 5 degrees plus wind chill.

Having slow Internet.

People reading over my shoulder.

And of course you.


H.

It's almost as if you've gone nowhere in two years, and I can't quite work out how that happened.Such promise was showed, but disappointment always shines through in the end.




H.

Things that make the list this week;

• Cuff buttons. Why must you be so damn hard to undo/do up.
• People who sit ten under in the right lane. Clearly its the speeders lane for a reason.
• Traffic lights which have been green for just that bit too long you know are going to change just before you get to the intersection, and are going to force you to wait a full cycle.
• Journal Articles from publishers which make you pay to read more than the abstract.
• My lack of time-management.
• The coffee line, half-time at the football.
• Scratchy tissues.
• CELERY JUICE.
• The staining qualities of beetroot.
• being so damn insignificant.

Nostalgia can be annoying. Hard to let go. Forever chasing you down with emotional blackmail.

Those flickering fluorescent lights. Also annoying. Dilapidation. showing age. impending demise. lack of proper care to detail.

the missing platinum. virtually weightless, yet so much baggage. connection gone, anxiousness. need for validation, the absent mind in knowing.

Bitch.  A deserving word which hurts. Where do you go from here?


the point of all this?



where will I be in two years?


this time 2 years ago? I did not think I'd be here. I did not think I could be here. I did not think.I didn't even know you. strange.



Loosing In Front, Exactly. sometimes its easier to just say 42 and be done with it.


H.