Frustrating.

How can I be so easily inspired by the beautiful souls around me, yet when I attempt to make something of my inspiration, everything falls back on its backside. Heh... backside.

I want to write a new song; I haven't for a long while.
I want to keep the artsy-vibe I've brought home from Forest Edge Creative Arts camp.
I want to write... and write... and write.
I want to speak out a beautiful poem that is entirely from the heart, like Joel did.
I WANT TO BE ABLE TO REACH MY FINGERS AROUND THE GUITAR.
I want to finish off all the stray tunes I have made on my piano.
I want to pick up my little red ukulele again and see if I remember the chords I've learnt.
I want to be some place different and beautiful so I have something new to photograph..
& I want to have the right computer programs to edit my photos with.
I want to be enthusiastic about working like I used to be. Well, sort of used to be.
I want to finish decorating my walls that I started the beginning of this year.
I want to record the significant seconds in my life, because I know I'll most likely need them later on.
I want to stop dreaming of the future, when I have a beautiful today. And I would also like to stop being some closet-romantic-fantisizer. Stupid romance novels.
How many wants do I really have? These are only the things I have been inspired to do in my free time.
Oh and another thing, I still want to have that adventure around Australia I was supposed to have had. I'm meant to be all tanned and wise and experienced of this country by now.
Nope.
I also want to stop being so bad at managing time, especially when it comes to sleeping!
This is SLEEPING time, Cassie.
Jeez Louise.

I'll come back..

I went back to this place Last Monday, and left it this Friday that has just passed. I could never expect anything of this place, or assume how it will be when I am there.
It's none of these things. It's completely different.
It's a knowledge, a truth in itself, regardless of the circumstance.
It's my place to belong, and it's my home.

This is home.

It started out as a feeling,
Which grew into a hope,
Which then grew into a quiet thought,
Which then grew into a quiet word.

And then that word grew louder and louder, 'till it was a battle cry;
I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say Goodbye.

And now we're back to the beginning,
It's just a feeling
And no one knows yet.
But just because they don't feel it too,
Doesn't mean you have to forget.

Let your memories grow stronger and stronger, until they're before your eyes...
You'll come back
When they call you,
No need to say Goodbye.

I am from.

I am from the wind.
---
As the wind blows and comes and goes
As it is felt and heard but not seen
Such is the uncertain life I live
The seventeen years I've been
---
Yet in the same kind of way the wind could not describe me
So immobile and stagnant
At the place I am expected to call home
---
The place these seventeen years have lived
The place I was born and raised
It changes but it has never changed
The inside changes colour at times
The outside grew up as i did
From green grass and a swingset
To outdoor lounge chairs and cold grey cement
From a great big siberian husky
To a noisy old cat
---
Seventeen years changed at times
But seventeen years always stayed the same
Same town
Same street
Same house and same bedroom
I am living my own memories
My own window like a picture frame
Of my childhood and my present days
---
The wind in my life is the storm in my soul
The cause for unrest within
---
I am uncomfortably comfortable
I am used to my life
And I don't want to be
---
To belong is a paradise felt only in my dreams
Dreams that are blowing through my heart and whistling through my ears
---
I don't know where I am from
Though I know where I've been
And I know where I long to be
I long to be as the wind
Blowing loud and free through this dry and dusty land
---
And when the wind of my soul blows dry in this life
The rest of me awaits apart from this world
Where already I belong.

The little things I love(d) about yesterday and today.

Finishing my 'Book of Dreams' for my Studio Art class.

The fact that it is now the holidays.

Doing the macarena on a tarp covered in detergent.

Turning the macarena into a detergent fight.

Watching videos from youth in '06 & '07.

Having a late-night trip to Coles.

Singing "All the Small Things" by Blink 182 in Russell's car with friends.

Getting scared by speeding cars that are basically out of control.

Getting scared by Pat's face outside the car window.

Singing old songs by Lincoln Park.

Singing a Maroon 5 song to the stars in the beautiful night sky.

Having the sun shining down on my face.

Wearing a floral dress.

Eating fish 'n' chips with my best friend.

Tom's swimming pool.

Having a spontaneous waterfight with friends.

Walking along my street eating 'nerds' lollies while the sun sets.

Pizza for tea.

Having my niece and nephew stay the night.

Blaring the new Switchfoot Album in my bedroom.

Watching Back to the Future with mum.

Packing for Forest Edge.

Magnum Icecream.

Drinking an Irish Latte in bed under the christmas lights.

Owning the whole collection of the Glenbrooke series by Robin Jones Gunn.

Snuggling with my kitten while reading the first book of the series.

Falling asleep to the sound of Jon Foreman's voice singing "Yesterdays".

Waking up in the early hours of the morning with a smile on my face, and not knowing why it's there.

Remembering this blog.

Dear Blogger,

Thanks for just being plain old you. You're just you. You're not trying to be anyone or anything else. You're not some show-off, you're not out to be the biggest and bestest. You're not trying to be some mainstream craze, nor are you acting like you're "so hipster", like almost every other blog-type website seems to be doing. You don't change with the wind or disappear for no reason. You're not a try hard, you're just you.
And you're simple. I like simple. I'm simple too. Haha no just kidding, that is definitely not true.
But thanks for putting up with me over these years. You've helped a whole lot.

So I'm not ready to be a positive blogger yet, note that my most recent posts have been horribly negative. I'm currently typing with a neutral outlook. Which is good, I think.
There are positive things up ahead though, I know it.
Before, it was like not even you would be worthy to hear my heart, nor understand how it felt. How it feels, still.
And I still don't think you are worthy for that. No offence meant, by the way Mr. Blog. I'm just ready to move on now.

So that's it. Not much of an ending. But who needs a fancy sign off. Goodbye.

And this is me.

Not much is fair around here anymore.

I don't want to be here.

I can't take this anymore, I really can't.