Brutally Honest Facts

Since high school ended, I found myself in lots of situations I never expected to be in. Sometimes, I've felt like I'm in a prison; at other times, drifting off in space. While in this prison-space continuum, I've learnt a lot of very strange facts about life, the universe, and whatever else there is.

1. Most people don't know what they're doing. Everyone is bluffing a little bit, pretending to be a little better at what they do, a little more knowledgeable, or a little less hungover.
2. Hard work does pay off. It can also hurt you. A lot. I've been working more than full time hours for about six months now. And I've been working very, very hard every hour that I'm at work. This has put me in a very good position in some ways - I have job security, I have the adoration of my employer, I have gained a lot of really good skills and obviously I have a lot more money than I would if I wasn't working (or not working as many hours). At the same time, all this hard work and excess work has left me in a very bad way. My wellbeing and health have taken a beating from all of this, and any time I do have free from work is spent recovering - from work, and from all the ailments it inflicts. So I've learnt the hard way that, yes, hard work pays. But there is a line between working hard and killing yourself.
3. People are fickle. They come and they go. The ones that matter remain. After high school, most of my friends moved away, or simply drifted away. We all changed, and because we all headed in different directions, we lost whatever it was that held us together. We're all different people now. It can be initially distressing to go to a party with all your old school friends, and realise you don't actually get along with any of them any more. That there is nothing to talk about, and they either haven't grown up at all, when you have, or they've simply grown into something you don't really like. In the end, the people that really matter aren't lost, and if anything, losing old social connections makes room for new ones. It's tough, and it's painful, but it happens. And it's usually for the better.
4. No one is looking out for you. So, you have to look out for yourself. I'm not saying no one cares about you. Or that you should disregard the needs of those around you. What I'm saying is, at the end of the day, it is you, and only you, who is responsible for yourself. Sometimes, no one is there to look after you when you're sick, or hold you when you're breaking down. Just as we can only work so hard before crumbling, we can only give so much of ourselves before we break. You need to look after yourself first, so that you have something to give to others. It is okay, and it is normal, to look after yourself. To need space, to need "me-time", to do things that achieve nothing but spreading a smile across your face.
5. Listen to your body. Your intuition, or gut feeling, is quite probably right. This is one of my mother's mantras. It's simple but vitally important. Listen to what's going on inside yourself. I decided to really listen to my body recently after falling very ill for the fifth time this year. I've had the same symptoms and problems on and off all year, and there's only so many times I can suppress whatever's going on with a pill. I decided to stop and really listen to myself. To my body, to my mind and to my spirit. For a long time, I had intuitively known that something was wrong. But I chose to ignore this feeling, because I couldn't afford to be unwell in my fast-paced lifestyle. I decided enough was enough, and it was time to listen to that quiet little voice. I've booked an appointment with the doctor to really get to the bottom of the issue, and am planning to reduce my hours at work, as they have been a contributor to my ill health. 
6. Just do it, whatever it is. No, I don't like cleaning the house, the toilets at work, or my room. But all three need to be done, and nothing is achieved by trying to avoid them. If you don't want your housemates to kick you out, don't be a slob, and if you want a job, you will damn well clean that toilet. Do what needs to be done, whether you want to or not, and I promise you you'll feel good about it.
7. Life comes in seasons. There are winters, and they can really drag. And there's usually no one to keep you warm. There are times of drastic change, and there are times when nothing ever seems to change. Sometimes, there is no one home, and at other times your house will fill with guests. At times, the road becomes your home, and sometimes, you get stuck somewhere in suburbia. Always remember that there will be another chapter, and you do have the power to turn the page when you're ready.

One must always leave a trail

Sitting in front of me is a packet of loose leaf Organic Lemon Myrtle Tea. It's expiry date is on my 21st birthday. Next to that is some random notes I took at a work meeting, brown eyeshadow, a gloriously large cup of coffee and a CD player.

Last night an old friend of mine returned home from his mysterious and somewhat prolonged adventure to Gulgong. As is almost necessary for people aged under 21, we had a party. On a Tuesday night.

I had work on Tuesday, and I have work today soon actually. I was planning to just meet them for dinner beforehand, extend my regards and then fuck off home again. Of course I turned up so late to dinner that I actually missed the dinner part, and arrived precisely when everyone was leaving.

Despite having said I would not, under any circumstances, attend a party on a Tuesday night, I did precisely that. I deliberately remained sober so that I could drive home at any point. But then I found myself amongst a group of close friends, in the dark, in the distance, getting in touch with Mary Jane.

I thought it would be best to wait a while before driving home, being then rendered completely off of my tits. So then I found myself lying on a trampoline, gazing at the cloudy night sky, slightly disillusioned by the lack of any visible stars. I remained stationary for a very fucking long time. Groups of people came and went; I remember lively discussions happenning around me that I was apparently physical unable to contribute to. Lola and I made nonsense at each other, understanding each other as intrinsically as babies.

I eventually made my way indoors. At the start of the night, my hair had been perfectly (or rather imperfectly) styled. I had pinned most of it back in an elegant style - something bohemian and a little bit flapper - and arranged tarragon flowers somewhat haphazardly in my hair.

The flowers from my hair, along with most of the bobby pins, laid on the trampoline and across the property, as I laid on a red lounge covered in cushions and everybody's things. There wasn't really any space to lie down but I think I made it work. Of course I then fell swiftly asleep in amongst all the things, blissfully unaware of how ridicudously high and absolutely freezing I was.

At 5:40 this morning I awoke startled and completely disoriented. The sun had begun to rise, which for some reason beckoned me to the bathroom. I grabbed most of my things (one must always leave a trail behind when they leave), and ran to the car, which for some reason I parked really far up the street. And then I headed home in a hurry, despite the fact I didn't (and don't) have to be at work until nine o'clock. I hope.

For you, vampire

Fluffy things. It is quite probable that everyone, or at least every second person, likes fluffy, cuddly, warm things. When a person lacks the presence of their significant other, they resort to something cuddly for comfort. Like a stuffed toy. There are in this world though few people who do not own a supply of fluffy things. It is with greatest humilation that I am going to now admit that I am one of those people.

(I was given a small toy fox for my birthday from a friend who I've got a lot of time for.)

'Miserable weather' is commonly associated with depression & loneliness, and I think there may be facts supporting this somewhere, but I honestly can't say anything for sure (so don't count on that). For some reason warmth & snugness make almost everything feel good, even if someone significant is missing. Just think about the following: Does the thought of a nice, warm bed with several soft, cuddly things on it make you feel better, regardless of how you're feeling? Does the thought of sleeping on hard concrete, out in the rain, exposed to wind, make you feel worse? Those questions were worded in such a way that my hypotheses should seem right, so I'm guessing you agree with me now. I find you rather foolish, as the words "nice" and "cuddly" are basically meaningless! But I would have fallen for similar scams.

It's night, so I apologise if the paragraphs are jerky and concepts are randomly chucked in there.