I don't have any idea what to blog about, but I suppose I can just elaborate on what rolls off the tip of my tongue.

These things take time. Right now, I'm quite happy lingering around, floating & exploring. I'm actually enjoying the love affair I'm having with life.

I'm opening my eyes to the possibilities of being independant & giving myself an extra boost of self-esteem. My ability to get through on my own, & to cry on my own shoulder, which is about bloody time. I'm extending my awareness of my own capabilites & experiencing first hand how absolutely strong & mighty I can be - for a little "baby" like me.

When you decide to be happy, I guess it's like being hit with a pimple. Totally expected & unexpected at the same time. You wake up one day & get surprised by the huge red mountain on your face. Then you think back & realise you're paying the price for chocolate & french fries. The analogy applies for happiness, you pay the price for getting over the issue & moving on from it.

See what I've figured out is you don't have to ask to be forgiven & you don't have to tell someone that they are. It just happens like an unexpected cataclysmic event that could possibly submerge a third of the earth's surface with hot ash & pumice. Then when you decide you're over the pain, you can focus on just being happy. Suddenly the realm of contentment becomes clear as the clouds slowly fade & your surroundings become clearer & clearer. Goodbye fog, hello sunshine!

We waste so much energy trying to be angry & sad, all for what? To ironically make a useless point & to be hit with an array of wrinkles when you hit your twenties? No thanks! I may get laugh lines, but well defined cheeks are far better than a sad droopy face.

When we decide to go with the flow, everything around you falls into place. No matter what the puzzle piece may be, it fits perfectly into the jigsaw. Instead of forcing the piece to fit, you accept that it doesn't, & somehow, after more pieces fall perfectly into place, the piece that you couldn't quite fit suddenly fits perfectly into your jigsaw.

I like looking back at the memories I shared with the people who don't matter now, & I love looking back at the beautiful memories created with the people who still matter to me. No matter how painful the experience was, in most cases I can see the beauty of it. I can look back & smile.

My only regret is that I didn't decide to be happier sooner. It could of saved me many more tears & sleepless nights. But now that I've made it this far - I don't ever want to go back!

When I really think about it, we never go through rough patches in our lives.

Haven't you ever looked back at your life & realised that, that moment of distress was meant to happen because something greater happening in your life now was always meant to be. Without that fallout, you would of still been in the same old sticky situation & missing out on the best thing that's ever happened.

My greatest realisation is, I don't need other people to help me get through life. I'm strong enough to do it by myself. I don't need to conform myself to another boy, & I certainly didn't need one to get over one.

My mistake all along has been to assume, that I constantly need people to help me get through life, & certainly in some aspects I do. But when it comes to dealing with problems, sometimes doing on your own gives you the satisfaction that you made it out alive, you made it without anyone's help, just your own & the big guy upstairs.

Bad karma is merely a part of our imagination, it's part of a long chain called life, to me made into something beautiful. Nothing bad ever happens, because everything that happens in life is a blessing. It may not seem like it right away, but it's up to us to see the good in all circumstances.

When a person walks out of your life, they do so because you don't need them anymore. There's no reason to feel bad about it, because maybe things would be worse if they were a part of your life.

You can't fight fate, & you certainly can't fight life. The world isn't going to stop spinning, & you never stop getting older. Life isn't going to wait for you, & time will always tick. Adapt yourself to the situation & know that what's happening is something beautiful even though most people would consider it as bad luck.

Be different, instead of moping in excruciating moments, stop, look around & take a deep breath, & once you've allowed the pain to overcome you - smile. Then laugh, life has funny ways of telling you you're living. Enjoy every heartbreak, pain & suffering you're going through because they're the best blessings in life.

Restless, she made her way out on to the wide verandah, where an old-fashioned porch swing stood. Settling herself in its deep cushions, she folded her arms and stared crossly at the beguiling prospect of the countryside swatched in moonlight. Oscar's decisive appraisal that she didn't know the real Pelham, closely followed by Sunday's revelation that Pelham was planning to propose, had thrown her into turmoil.

While she and Pelham had discussed marriage in an arbitrary way, it was a shock to realise that she would have to make an actual, momentous decision the following day. And Oscar's proximity wasn't exactly conductive to clear thinking on the subject.

Lost in confused reflection, Hero was still sitting on the swing when Oscar, wearing a fresh shirt and looking annoyingly attractive, came outside bearing two drinks. He paused and drew in a deep lungful of the night air.

'If you say one word,' Hero darkly threatened, 'just one about how beautiful the view is by moonlight or how fresh the country air smells, I swear I will kill you and bury your body under Terry's rhododendrons.'

'I wasn't going to say either of those things,' Oscar said, in an injured tone.

'You weren't?'

'No. I was going to recite a sonnet about the beauty of a woman enraged. Does the same penalty apply?'

'No. I'll bury you alive instead.'

'You know, it's rather more difficult to recite poetry when your nostrils are filled with dirt.'

'My thoughts exactly.'

'Did you have a chat to Pelham?' Oscar asked, wisely deciding to ignore the ferocious scowl.

'No, I did not!' Hero snapped. 'He's stillin there talking to the bartender. And that's your fault, too. Don't think I don't know it. Pelham has never sprawled over a bar and chatted to a bartender in his life.'

Oscar sat himself down beside her and gently rocked the swing to set them in motion. 'Well, you and Pelham are quite different in that respect. I have a very distinct memory of you chatting to a bartender.' Before she could retaliate, he handed her a drink. 'Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better.'

She looked suspiciously into the tumbler. 'What is it?'

'Scotch on the rocks.'

'I hate scotch. It tastes like medicine. Is there any Baileys?'

Oscar raised an eyebrow. 'Baileys? I never would have picked you for a sweet liqueur kind of girl.'

'See that's the problem with you.' Despite her objections to the scotch, she downed the drink in one swallow, grimaced, and then continued. 'You think every single thing about a person has to conform to your exact notion of who they are. Cynical. Sentimental. Romantic. Unromantic. You're incredibly narrow minded. Are you going to drink that?'

Oscar paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. Deciding that Hero's need was greater, he swaped his full glass for her empty one, watching in awe as she dispatched the second drink in the same swift manner as the first.

Seeing the empty glasses at a safe distance, he looked her straight in the eye, 'Okay Hero. What's the matter?'

There was a silence, and then Hero burst out, 'Pelham's going to propose to me.'

Oscar took in her agitation with interest, but wisely decided not to comment on it. Instead he said mildly, 'How do you know?'

'Sunday told me.'

'I know you're not much given to taking advice from me, but for Pelham's sake, try to act surprised when he asks.'

'Do you really think that I'd let on that I knew?' Hero asked, nettled.

Oscar sighed. 'Quite frankly, Hero, I don't know how you're going to react ninety-eight percent of the time. That first night we were together, you looked at me like you could fall in love with me, but since we met up again it's been nothing but sexually charged tension.'

Hero smiled sweetly. 'That's not true. I've definately progressed ito the numb-to-all-sensation-where-Oscar-is-concerned stage.'

'What's it like?'

'Peaceful. Very peaceful.'

'Well, enjoy it, because it won't last,' he advised. 'The next stage is utter-love-and-adoration-of-Oscar and it lasts for all eternity. Which gives you something to look forward to,' he added kindly.

'By that time I'll probably be married to Pelham, so I'll just have to admire you from afar.'

The combative sparkle went out of Oscar's eyes and he looked at her meditatively. 'I don't think you'll really do it. You don't love him, Hero. I know you don't.'

Hero bit her lip. 'Your mistake all along has been to assume that you know my mind better than I do.'

'I can't let you do it.'

'Luckily for me, I don't need your permission to make decisions concerning my own life,' Hero said composedly.

'In that case, just tell me one thing that I've always been curious about. I know I've asked you this before, but why did you stand me up that day at the Met?'

Heat burned through Hero's cheeks and for one wild moment she considered telling him about that agonising moment of indecision and self-doubt. She had wanted so badly to be Lola, to step forward and take Oscar's hand. But she hadn't. She turned away.

Oscar watched her fighting for an explanation, and decided to make it easier for her. 'My theory is that there are two Heros.' He smiled. 'Or perhaps there's one Hero and one Lola. Either way, I feel like a part of you desperatly wants to break free while the other part fights hard for security and stability, whatever the cost.'

'Lola doesn't exist,' Hero said, when she could speak. 'She was never real.'

'See, that's where you're wrong,' Oscar said gently. 'Because I kissed her, and she was very real to me.' He paused. 'The price that you're paying for security is too high, Hero. You'll be miserable with him. You know you will.'

'Oh well,' she said, in as flippant tone as she could muster, 'I suppose the only way either of us will ever know whether that's true is if Pelham and I actually do get married. But thanks for your concern. And I'm not a very good actor but I promise to act surprised when he asks me.'

'In that case, I suppose I ought to help you practise,' Oscar offered.

'What?' Hero asked, completely disconcerted.

Oscar moved closer. 'It's easy, I'll show you. When Pelham sits next to you in the moonlight, just like I am now, and he turns to you and says he's got something important to ask ...'

He took her hand as he spoke, and immediately something very peculiar happened to Hero's insides, her heart and stomach colluding in some sort of jumping game, over which she had obviously no control. It was the scotch, she decided hazily. Had to be the scotch.

Oblivious to the hammering of her heart, Oscar asked, persuasively, 'Hero, will you marry me?'

She tightened her grip on his hand, her eyes dreamy. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. 'Yes.'

His face almost touching hers now, and as his lips brushed lightly against hers, she closed her eyes. But then he let go of her hand. When she opened her eyes, she saw that he had settled back in the swing, putting distance between them. She looked at him in bewilderment as he said lightly, 'Sorry. I know I shouldn't have kissed you but I couldn't resist. Anyway, that was perfect. Look at Pelham exactly like that and he'll feel like the luckiest man alive. You know, Hero, I begin to have hope for your romantic streak, after all.'

He set the swing in motion once again, and as the world rushed forward to meet them, Hero didn't know why, but she felt very much like crying.

Standing perturbed in front of the mirror, surveying deeply into the midst of her anomalous reflection, she contemplates the thoughts of the girl acutely staring back at her. Her eyes emit dismay and a sense of confusion. The girl she once controlled is now sculptured into one of society's trophey winning cynics.

Once thought to have a pure belief for fairytale endings her faith in the impossible would submit her into endless hurt. Though, regardless of knowing the consequenses to obscene believing, she continued to inject her blood with hallucinogens. She hoped, that maybe one day the drugs would finally give her the high she longed for.

Now, dumbfounded, she lookes deeper at her reflection, wondering what had happened to the opportunist she once knew. The smiles try to hide the pessimism, though the negative aura is radiated through her glassy eyes, mirroring the bemusement bellowing through her.

Society floods skepticism on love and romance, drowning the joys that she once tested and rejoiced in. The pressure of society forced her to abandon her identity. She no longer lulls over liaison, but feels the need to scamper at every romantic gesture. Every so called "unrealistic" notion of love she recieves, she neglects. Her inability to trust slowly eats the real her up.

People believe in fate because they want to believe that their love stories are preordained, a matter of destiny. But in actual fact the only thing that is certain is that everyone wants to fall in love and be loved. Who you happen to fall in love with is a matter of chance, not fate. And the probability that we're capable of falling in love with a whole range of people is something that most people refuse to acknowledge.

The literal deifnition of romance is 'fiction', something not real.

Or so she thinks. Deep down, she wants to dive into escapism, a fleeting moment that would lead her to fate, a future of contentment, and a future of love. She wouldn't mind the collective cliches about romance and love.

And in time she'll find her destiny, committing to someone she deserves, frightened she'll settle for anything less.

A heavenly explosion that stops time and makes your heart skip a beat. An evanescent theatrical that stamps a memory in your heart. An overwhelming feeling of euphoria that engulfs your entire body.

His earnest eyes invite you to kiss his soul. And as he shifts closer, you lose yourself in him. The passion oozes from his soft lips brushing gently against yours and from his fingertips that lightly caress your cheek. Your head becomes tousled in the palm of his hands as irregular, lustful breathing symphonise harmonic melodies.

And in that scene, everything else fades, nothing else matters but him. Affectionatly kissing you.

Then it ends, leaving the both of you addicted to that fated memory, yearning, once more, to share another sweet, beautiful exchange of secrets.

An old man lived in a certain part of London, and he would wake up every morning and go to the subway and take it to Central London. Every single day of his life he'd sit at a street corner and beg. He did this for almost twenty years.

His house was filthy, and smelled horribly. One day, the neighbours could no longer stand the smell, so they summoned the police officers to clear the place. The officers knocked down the door and cleaned the house and found small bags of money all over the house that the old man collected over the twenty years.

The police counted the money, and soon realized that the old man was a millionaire. They waited outside his house in anticipation to share the good news with him. When he arrived home that evening, he was met by one the officers who told him that there was no need for him to beg any more as he was a rich man now, a millionaire.

He said nothing at all; he went into his house and locked the door.

And as he did for the last twenty years, he woke up the next morning, went to the subway, got into the train and sat at the corner street and continued to beg.


Obviously, this old man had no great plans, dreams or anything significant for his life. We learn nothing from this story other than staying focused on the things we enjoy doing. He reminds us to remain true to our course; which may mean committing ourselves to things that people around us would normally disapprove of.

Let nothing distract us from being happy, let nothing else determine our fate, but ourselves.

Have you ever had something go terribly wrong? Where your life is consumed by stress (due to work, uni, family, friends, issues relating to ... stuff) & all you can do is shut up & keep it all bottled inside. Times like these the situation asks you to fake it.

Fake a smile, fake that you are okay, fake that everything is perfectly right, fake that you're not affected and fake that you are happy in order to convince yourself all the aforementioned white lies are true. You radiate a sunny & bubbly vibe, when inside you're screaming for help and slowly going insane.

Even when you're concerned with always being occupied, having a busy schedule, you can't escape those haunting thoughts that flood your mind once you're alone with just your head. I was expecting this to be different. I just realised that you can never really escape your problems by being busy. I always thought that keeping busy causes you to forget. I was so wrong.

So now, I shall paint a smile on my canvas & illuminate a pretty, tranquil picture.

There are moments in time when you realise that letting it go takes off the heavy burden imprinted in your heart.

Forgetting about hurt is often difficult as it consumes you until you are encompassed by it's listlessness, inconcient of the joys that life inoculates. It preempts the fond memories you had created with the one that truly makes your heart smile.

When the dysphoria is over bearing, that's when you decide it's enough. Despair suddenly becomes unattractive, & a transformation within sparks causing a sudden acquiescence about anything & everything.

There's finally a light shining at the end of the long laborious tunnel. Then suddenly a radiant starburst of happy explodes & envelopes your life.

Forgiving & forgetting has its rewards. My only hope is that this is the start of a beautiful something - something we both didn't expect.

You've made my day. You've made me smile. You've made me believe in the impossible - again.
I just hope you knew that, & if you didn't .. you do now!

Have you noticed I haven't really described any interesting details of my super awesome life? Don't ask me why. I just don't want you asking because I've mainly been sticking my head into uni work, or sleeping & of course having a great old time being stuck in traffic for at least an hour a day. If you've heard stories from Macquarie students, you'd observe our habitual griping on how much of a bitch it is getting to uni.

This morning I was a part of the unfortunate thousand to be stuck in traffic on Windsor Road, Pennant Hills Road, Balaclava Road & Epping Road. I'll also mention the hexed commuters on the M2 who had to pay the extra toll fees and the wasted petrol our inefficient cars consume in portentious traffic.

Why Macquarie Park had to be deep-rooted in the middle of nowhere, I'll never understand!

Well I might as well leave you with my stores promo: (Yes I'm employed!)

Epiphany (i-pif-uh-nee) n. A comprehension or perception of reality by means of a sudden intuitive realisation.

I observed that I'm repeatedly infuriated by people who waste time, especially in the relationship department. Which may probably be the root of all my anger towards unnamed individuals (past & future victims).

' Okay, whatever - I'm over it ' - Click. Beep Beep Beep. (If you're wondering I just deleted a whole angry essay about the aforementioned issue)

What I don't understand is that showing someone you appreciate them isn't a monumental task. You can take the simplest thing, which is your time & use that to your advantage. Having no time is no excuse, because you make the time. You're the one control of your own actions & in control of managing your time.

What you appreciate, appreciates & people have funny ways of showing it.

As asked by two uni mates of mine (Jonno & Anthony) one fine Friday afternoon, during an intense deep & meaningful with other uni mates about the very interesting topic of "relationships," I was asked the complicated question of "what type of guys are you into?" My efforts to diverge the attention off me didn't work as they noticed I was changing the subject.

All intrigued by what words would be breathed from my mouth for some unforsaken reason, I started chattering about how every girl would love a boy that can communicate feelings. Then I was suddenly detatched from what I was saying & was asked "no, but what type of guys are you into?" Notice the strong emphasis on you? But anyways ...

From that moment I started to question what type of guys I found attractive, & now I'm giving a detailed list for that perfect man, who will never ever exist. But a girl can dream can't she?

So, let's dismantle the cliche "tall, dark & handsome" stance.

a) I think any boy would be taller than me
b) Let's cross out dark & insert tanned
c) Instead of handsome, someone I'm attracted to

Lets also add to the equation that:

d) He must absolutely love kids
e) He should be nice
f) Have a sense of romance
g) Be adorably sweet
h) Blah blah blah ..

Scrap the list. Except for maybe option (d).

The list can go on ... & on .. & on ... & on !

& for some people, the list continues to build & build. We incessantly update these menus to fabricate the perfect man or woman, simply forgetting the fact that people have flaws & that no one is perfect. The problem with creating such an impossible list is being blind to the beauty of imperfections & how perfect those imperfections can be.

That's not to say I'll settle for just anyone, nor should anyone for that matter. But right now my tastebuds fancy someone who's nice, built, sweet, funny ... & ohh yeah ... someone who spoils me! Any takers? Ask me again tomorrow, you might find the list is longer. Nahh, maybe someone mysterious like that petrol boy.

But in all seriousness, we all think we know what we want, but once we get what we want, we realise that that isn't what we want at all. So why bother with lists that won't fulfill our happiness?

I opt for a guy who exerts his intelligence over a fabricated pretty boy smothered in a slew of superficial products with no brains what-so-ever. A boy who's certain of his actions and sure of what he wants. Someone mature enough to understand the consequences he imposes but who isn't afraid to take a leap & live in the moment of his feelings. He would fathom that he nor I are perfect but has faith that through the unavoidable mishaps, he's the one I deserve. He'll want to be the one that I deserve, because that's how much I mean to him. Ohh, & did I mention he has to spoil me?

For those who have it, they would say it's easy to find. For those who have never felt it would say it doesn't exist. And for those who lost it would say that it's complicated. Others describe the feeling as ecstacy while some often confuse it with lust. Few would define it as euphoria while a selected bunch would express it as heart breaking.

Love.

It's what some people search for their entire lives, while others run at every opportunity. This particular word fills most of our hearts with happiness. However, love also showers us with grief and loneliness, the main reason why we hide from it.

Love is a leap.

For those who jump, they're greeted by forever, as some people often define love as a benchmark for commitment. But for the unfortunate few who have leaped, they're often scarred and forever stuck in turmoil, forever running from the hurt love has to give.

Love is ... hard to define, hard to grasp, hard to let go of, & hard to understand.

I often hear, that once you're in love, it's forever. You're forever doomed to feel that way for one particular person for the rest of your whole, entire, long, old life. I also hear that with love, comes pain. I also hear that love changes you, it makes you a better person, an accepting person.

Love is all around us.

Poets, musicians, singers, authors, artists, dancers and actors have all blossomed from love. We see Hallmark profit from cupid's victims and the price of roses reach sky high on valentines day. On sidewalks to beaches we see couples holding hands, intimately hugging and passionately kissing. Every year, thousands die from broken hearts, thousands also spend endless amounts of money on frosting, and of course, for that special day. Millions of tears fall due to the happiness & sadness love blesses us with.

There are no constraints, rules, or boundaries when it comes to this word .. & that's for sure ... and maybe that's why it's so complicated. Because if there were constraints, I'd know what to do in order to avoid the hurt. If there were rules, I'd follow them to find happiness. And lastly, if there were boundaries, I'd know for certain what love would feel like & whether or not I'm in love.

I don't have any idea what to blog about, but I suppose I can just elaborate on what rolls off the tip of my tongue.

These things take time. Right now, I'm quite happy lingering around, floating & exploring. I'm actually enjoying the love affair I'm having with life.

I'm opening my eyes to the possibilities of being independant & giving myself an extra boost of self-esteem. My ability to get through on my own, & to cry on my own shoulder, which is about bloody time. I'm extending my awareness of my own capabilites & experiencing first hand how absolutely strong & mighty I can be - for a little "baby" like me.

When you decide to be happy, I guess it's like being hit with a pimple. Totally expected & unexpected at the same time. You wake up one day & get surprised by the huge red mountain on your face. Then you think back & realise you're paying the price for chocolate & french fries. The analogy applies for happiness, you pay the price for getting over the issue & moving on from it.

See what I've figured out is you don't have to ask to be forgiven & you don't have to tell someone that they are. It just happens like an unexpected cataclysmic event that could possibly submerge a third of the earth's surface with hot ash & pumice. Then when you decide you're over the pain, you can focus on just being happy. Suddenly the realm of contentment becomes clear as the clouds slowly fade & your surroundings become clearer & clearer. Goodbye fog, hello sunshine!

We waste so much energy trying to be angry & sad, all for what? To ironically make a useless point & to be hit with an array of wrinkles when you hit your twenties? No thanks! I may get laugh lines, but well defined cheeks are far better than a sad droopy face.

When we decide to go with the flow, everything around you falls into place. No matter what the puzzle piece may be, it fits perfectly into the jigsaw. Instead of forcing the piece to fit, you accept that it doesn't, & somehow, after more pieces fall perfectly into place, the piece that you couldn't quite fit suddenly fits perfectly into your jigsaw.

I like looking back at the memories I shared with the people who don't matter now, & I love looking back at the beautiful memories created with the people who still matter to me. No matter how painful the experience was, in most cases I can see the beauty of it. I can look back & smile.

My only regret is that I didn't decide to be happier sooner. It could of saved me many more tears & sleepless nights. But now that I've made it this far - I don't ever want to go back!

When I really think about it, we never go through rough patches in our lives.

Haven't you ever looked back at your life & realised that, that moment of distress was meant to happen because something greater happening in your life now was always meant to be. Without that fallout, you would of still been in the same old sticky situation & missing out on the best thing that's ever happened.

My greatest realisation is, I don't need other people to help me get through life. I'm strong enough to do it by myself. I don't need to conform myself to another boy, & I certainly didn't need one to get over one.

My mistake all along has been to assume, that I constantly need people to help me get through life, & certainly in some aspects I do. But when it comes to dealing with problems, sometimes doing on your own gives you the satisfaction that you made it out alive, you made it without anyone's help, just your own & the big guy upstairs.

Bad karma is merely a part of our imagination, it's part of a long chain called life, to me made into something beautiful. Nothing bad ever happens, because everything that happens in life is a blessing. It may not seem like it right away, but it's up to us to see the good in all circumstances.

When a person walks out of your life, they do so because you don't need them anymore. There's no reason to feel bad about it, because maybe things would be worse if they were a part of your life.

You can't fight fate, & you certainly can't fight life. The world isn't going to stop spinning, & you never stop getting older. Life isn't going to wait for you, & time will always tick. Adapt yourself to the situation & know that what's happening is something beautiful even though most people would consider it as bad luck.

Be different, instead of moping in excruciating moments, stop, look around & take a deep breath, & once you've allowed the pain to overcome you - smile. Then laugh, life has funny ways of telling you you're living. Enjoy every heartbreak, pain & suffering you're going through because they're the best blessings in life.

Restless, she made her way out on to the wide verandah, where an old-fashioned porch swing stood. Settling herself in its deep cushions, she folded her arms and stared crossly at the beguiling prospect of the countryside swatched in moonlight. Oscar's decisive appraisal that she didn't know the real Pelham, closely followed by Sunday's revelation that Pelham was planning to propose, had thrown her into turmoil.

While she and Pelham had discussed marriage in an arbitrary way, it was a shock to realise that she would have to make an actual, momentous decision the following day. And Oscar's proximity wasn't exactly conductive to clear thinking on the subject.

Lost in confused reflection, Hero was still sitting on the swing when Oscar, wearing a fresh shirt and looking annoyingly attractive, came outside bearing two drinks. He paused and drew in a deep lungful of the night air.

'If you say one word,' Hero darkly threatened, 'just one about how beautiful the view is by moonlight or how fresh the country air smells, I swear I will kill you and bury your body under Terry's rhododendrons.'

'I wasn't going to say either of those things,' Oscar said, in an injured tone.

'You weren't?'

'No. I was going to recite a sonnet about the beauty of a woman enraged. Does the same penalty apply?'

'No. I'll bury you alive instead.'

'You know, it's rather more difficult to recite poetry when your nostrils are filled with dirt.'

'My thoughts exactly.'

'Did you have a chat to Pelham?' Oscar asked, wisely deciding to ignore the ferocious scowl.

'No, I did not!' Hero snapped. 'He's stillin there talking to the bartender. And that's your fault, too. Don't think I don't know it. Pelham has never sprawled over a bar and chatted to a bartender in his life.'

Oscar sat himself down beside her and gently rocked the swing to set them in motion. 'Well, you and Pelham are quite different in that respect. I have a very distinct memory of you chatting to a bartender.' Before she could retaliate, he handed her a drink. 'Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better.'

She looked suspiciously into the tumbler. 'What is it?'

'Scotch on the rocks.'

'I hate scotch. It tastes like medicine. Is there any Baileys?'

Oscar raised an eyebrow. 'Baileys? I never would have picked you for a sweet liqueur kind of girl.'

'See that's the problem with you.' Despite her objections to the scotch, she downed the drink in one swallow, grimaced, and then continued. 'You think every single thing about a person has to conform to your exact notion of who they are. Cynical. Sentimental. Romantic. Unromantic. You're incredibly narrow minded. Are you going to drink that?'

Oscar paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. Deciding that Hero's need was greater, he swaped his full glass for her empty one, watching in awe as she dispatched the second drink in the same swift manner as the first.

Seeing the empty glasses at a safe distance, he looked her straight in the eye, 'Okay Hero. What's the matter?'

There was a silence, and then Hero burst out, 'Pelham's going to propose to me.'

Oscar took in her agitation with interest, but wisely decided not to comment on it. Instead he said mildly, 'How do you know?'

'Sunday told me.'

'I know you're not much given to taking advice from me, but for Pelham's sake, try to act surprised when he asks.'

'Do you really think that I'd let on that I knew?' Hero asked, nettled.

Oscar sighed. 'Quite frankly, Hero, I don't know how you're going to react ninety-eight percent of the time. That first night we were together, you looked at me like you could fall in love with me, but since we met up again it's been nothing but sexually charged tension.'

Hero smiled sweetly. 'That's not true. I've definately progressed ito the numb-to-all-sensation-where-Oscar-is-concerned stage.'

'What's it like?'

'Peaceful. Very peaceful.'

'Well, enjoy it, because it won't last,' he advised. 'The next stage is utter-love-and-adoration-of-Oscar and it lasts for all eternity. Which gives you something to look forward to,' he added kindly.

'By that time I'll probably be married to Pelham, so I'll just have to admire you from afar.'

The combative sparkle went out of Oscar's eyes and he looked at her meditatively. 'I don't think you'll really do it. You don't love him, Hero. I know you don't.'

Hero bit her lip. 'Your mistake all along has been to assume that you know my mind better than I do.'

'I can't let you do it.'

'Luckily for me, I don't need your permission to make decisions concerning my own life,' Hero said composedly.

'In that case, just tell me one thing that I've always been curious about. I know I've asked you this before, but why did you stand me up that day at the Met?'

Heat burned through Hero's cheeks and for one wild moment she considered telling him about that agonising moment of indecision and self-doubt. She had wanted so badly to be Lola, to step forward and take Oscar's hand. But she hadn't. She turned away.

Oscar watched her fighting for an explanation, and decided to make it easier for her. 'My theory is that there are two Heros.' He smiled. 'Or perhaps there's one Hero and one Lola. Either way, I feel like a part of you desperatly wants to break free while the other part fights hard for security and stability, whatever the cost.'

'Lola doesn't exist,' Hero said, when she could speak. 'She was never real.'

'See, that's where you're wrong,' Oscar said gently. 'Because I kissed her, and she was very real to me.' He paused. 'The price that you're paying for security is too high, Hero. You'll be miserable with him. You know you will.'

'Oh well,' she said, in as flippant tone as she could muster, 'I suppose the only way either of us will ever know whether that's true is if Pelham and I actually do get married. But thanks for your concern. And I'm not a very good actor but I promise to act surprised when he asks me.'

'In that case, I suppose I ought to help you practise,' Oscar offered.

'What?' Hero asked, completely disconcerted.

Oscar moved closer. 'It's easy, I'll show you. When Pelham sits next to you in the moonlight, just like I am now, and he turns to you and says he's got something important to ask ...'

He took her hand as he spoke, and immediately something very peculiar happened to Hero's insides, her heart and stomach colluding in some sort of jumping game, over which she had obviously no control. It was the scotch, she decided hazily. Had to be the scotch.

Oblivious to the hammering of her heart, Oscar asked, persuasively, 'Hero, will you marry me?'

She tightened her grip on his hand, her eyes dreamy. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. 'Yes.'

His face almost touching hers now, and as his lips brushed lightly against hers, she closed her eyes. But then he let go of her hand. When she opened her eyes, she saw that he had settled back in the swing, putting distance between them. She looked at him in bewilderment as he said lightly, 'Sorry. I know I shouldn't have kissed you but I couldn't resist. Anyway, that was perfect. Look at Pelham exactly like that and he'll feel like the luckiest man alive. You know, Hero, I begin to have hope for your romantic streak, after all.'

He set the swing in motion once again, and as the world rushed forward to meet them, Hero didn't know why, but she felt very much like crying.

Standing perturbed in front of the mirror, surveying deeply into the midst of her anomalous reflection, she contemplates the thoughts of the girl acutely staring back at her. Her eyes emit dismay and a sense of confusion. The girl she once controlled is now sculptured into one of society's trophey winning cynics.

Once thought to have a pure belief for fairytale endings her faith in the impossible would submit her into endless hurt. Though, regardless of knowing the consequenses to obscene believing, she continued to inject her blood with hallucinogens. She hoped, that maybe one day the drugs would finally give her the high she longed for.

Now, dumbfounded, she lookes deeper at her reflection, wondering what had happened to the opportunist she once knew. The smiles try to hide the pessimism, though the negative aura is radiated through her glassy eyes, mirroring the bemusement bellowing through her.

Society floods skepticism on love and romance, drowning the joys that she once tested and rejoiced in. The pressure of society forced her to abandon her identity. She no longer lulls over liaison, but feels the need to scamper at every romantic gesture. Every so called "unrealistic" notion of love she recieves, she neglects. Her inability to trust slowly eats the real her up.

People believe in fate because they want to believe that their love stories are preordained, a matter of destiny. But in actual fact the only thing that is certain is that everyone wants to fall in love and be loved. Who you happen to fall in love with is a matter of chance, not fate. And the probability that we're capable of falling in love with a whole range of people is something that most people refuse to acknowledge.

The literal deifnition of romance is 'fiction', something not real.

Or so she thinks. Deep down, she wants to dive into escapism, a fleeting moment that would lead her to fate, a future of contentment, and a future of love. She wouldn't mind the collective cliches about romance and love.

And in time she'll find her destiny, committing to someone she deserves, frightened she'll settle for anything less.

A heavenly explosion that stops time and makes your heart skip a beat. An evanescent theatrical that stamps a memory in your heart. An overwhelming feeling of euphoria that engulfs your entire body.

His earnest eyes invite you to kiss his soul. And as he shifts closer, you lose yourself in him. The passion oozes from his soft lips brushing gently against yours and from his fingertips that lightly caress your cheek. Your head becomes tousled in the palm of his hands as irregular, lustful breathing symphonise harmonic melodies.

And in that scene, everything else fades, nothing else matters but him. Affectionatly kissing you.

Then it ends, leaving the both of you addicted to that fated memory, yearning, once more, to share another sweet, beautiful exchange of secrets.

An old man lived in a certain part of London, and he would wake up every morning and go to the subway and take it to Central London. Every single day of his life he'd sit at a street corner and beg. He did this for almost twenty years.

His house was filthy, and smelled horribly. One day, the neighbours could no longer stand the smell, so they summoned the police officers to clear the place. The officers knocked down the door and cleaned the house and found small bags of money all over the house that the old man collected over the twenty years.

The police counted the money, and soon realized that the old man was a millionaire. They waited outside his house in anticipation to share the good news with him. When he arrived home that evening, he was met by one the officers who told him that there was no need for him to beg any more as he was a rich man now, a millionaire.

He said nothing at all; he went into his house and locked the door.

And as he did for the last twenty years, he woke up the next morning, went to the subway, got into the train and sat at the corner street and continued to beg.


Obviously, this old man had no great plans, dreams or anything significant for his life. We learn nothing from this story other than staying focused on the things we enjoy doing. He reminds us to remain true to our course; which may mean committing ourselves to things that people around us would normally disapprove of.

Let nothing distract us from being happy, let nothing else determine our fate, but ourselves.

Have you ever had something go terribly wrong? Where your life is consumed by stress (due to work, uni, family, friends, issues relating to ... stuff) & all you can do is shut up & keep it all bottled inside. Times like these the situation asks you to fake it.

Fake a smile, fake that you are okay, fake that everything is perfectly right, fake that you're not affected and fake that you are happy in order to convince yourself all the aforementioned white lies are true. You radiate a sunny & bubbly vibe, when inside you're screaming for help and slowly going insane.

Even when you're concerned with always being occupied, having a busy schedule, you can't escape those haunting thoughts that flood your mind once you're alone with just your head. I was expecting this to be different. I just realised that you can never really escape your problems by being busy. I always thought that keeping busy causes you to forget. I was so wrong.

So now, I shall paint a smile on my canvas & illuminate a pretty, tranquil picture.

There are moments in time when you realise that letting it go takes off the heavy burden imprinted in your heart.

Forgetting about hurt is often difficult as it consumes you until you are encompassed by it's listlessness, inconcient of the joys that life inoculates. It preempts the fond memories you had created with the one that truly makes your heart smile.

When the dysphoria is over bearing, that's when you decide it's enough. Despair suddenly becomes unattractive, & a transformation within sparks causing a sudden acquiescence about anything & everything.

There's finally a light shining at the end of the long laborious tunnel. Then suddenly a radiant starburst of happy explodes & envelopes your life.

Forgiving & forgetting has its rewards. My only hope is that this is the start of a beautiful something - something we both didn't expect.

You've made my day. You've made me smile. You've made me believe in the impossible - again.
I just hope you knew that, & if you didn't .. you do now!

Have you noticed I haven't really described any interesting details of my super awesome life? Don't ask me why. I just don't want you asking because I've mainly been sticking my head into uni work, or sleeping & of course having a great old time being stuck in traffic for at least an hour a day. If you've heard stories from Macquarie students, you'd observe our habitual griping on how much of a bitch it is getting to uni.

This morning I was a part of the unfortunate thousand to be stuck in traffic on Windsor Road, Pennant Hills Road, Balaclava Road & Epping Road. I'll also mention the hexed commuters on the M2 who had to pay the extra toll fees and the wasted petrol our inefficient cars consume in portentious traffic.

Why Macquarie Park had to be deep-rooted in the middle of nowhere, I'll never understand!

Well I might as well leave you with my stores promo: (Yes I'm employed!)

Epiphany (i-pif-uh-nee) n. A comprehension or perception of reality by means of a sudden intuitive realisation.

I observed that I'm repeatedly infuriated by people who waste time, especially in the relationship department. Which may probably be the root of all my anger towards unnamed individuals (past & future victims).

' Okay, whatever - I'm over it ' - Click. Beep Beep Beep. (If you're wondering I just deleted a whole angry essay about the aforementioned issue)

What I don't understand is that showing someone you appreciate them isn't a monumental task. You can take the simplest thing, which is your time & use that to your advantage. Having no time is no excuse, because you make the time. You're the one control of your own actions & in control of managing your time.

What you appreciate, appreciates & people have funny ways of showing it.

As asked by two uni mates of mine (Jonno & Anthony) one fine Friday afternoon, during an intense deep & meaningful with other uni mates about the very interesting topic of "relationships," I was asked the complicated question of "what type of guys are you into?" My efforts to diverge the attention off me didn't work as they noticed I was changing the subject.

All intrigued by what words would be breathed from my mouth for some unforsaken reason, I started chattering about how every girl would love a boy that can communicate feelings. Then I was suddenly detatched from what I was saying & was asked "no, but what type of guys are you into?" Notice the strong emphasis on you? But anyways ...

From that moment I started to question what type of guys I found attractive, & now I'm giving a detailed list for that perfect man, who will never ever exist. But a girl can dream can't she?

So, let's dismantle the cliche "tall, dark & handsome" stance.

a) I think any boy would be taller than me
b) Let's cross out dark & insert tanned
c) Instead of handsome, someone I'm attracted to

Lets also add to the equation that:

d) He must absolutely love kids
e) He should be nice
f) Have a sense of romance
g) Be adorably sweet
h) Blah blah blah ..

Scrap the list. Except for maybe option (d).

The list can go on ... & on .. & on ... & on !

& for some people, the list continues to build & build. We incessantly update these menus to fabricate the perfect man or woman, simply forgetting the fact that people have flaws & that no one is perfect. The problem with creating such an impossible list is being blind to the beauty of imperfections & how perfect those imperfections can be.

That's not to say I'll settle for just anyone, nor should anyone for that matter. But right now my tastebuds fancy someone who's nice, built, sweet, funny ... & ohh yeah ... someone who spoils me! Any takers? Ask me again tomorrow, you might find the list is longer. Nahh, maybe someone mysterious like that petrol boy.

But in all seriousness, we all think we know what we want, but once we get what we want, we realise that that isn't what we want at all. So why bother with lists that won't fulfill our happiness?

I opt for a guy who exerts his intelligence over a fabricated pretty boy smothered in a slew of superficial products with no brains what-so-ever. A boy who's certain of his actions and sure of what he wants. Someone mature enough to understand the consequences he imposes but who isn't afraid to take a leap & live in the moment of his feelings. He would fathom that he nor I are perfect but has faith that through the unavoidable mishaps, he's the one I deserve. He'll want to be the one that I deserve, because that's how much I mean to him. Ohh, & did I mention he has to spoil me?

For those who have it, they would say it's easy to find. For those who have never felt it would say it doesn't exist. And for those who lost it would say that it's complicated. Others describe the feeling as ecstacy while some often confuse it with lust. Few would define it as euphoria while a selected bunch would express it as heart breaking.

Love.

It's what some people search for their entire lives, while others run at every opportunity. This particular word fills most of our hearts with happiness. However, love also showers us with grief and loneliness, the main reason why we hide from it.

Love is a leap.

For those who jump, they're greeted by forever, as some people often define love as a benchmark for commitment. But for the unfortunate few who have leaped, they're often scarred and forever stuck in turmoil, forever running from the hurt love has to give.

Love is ... hard to define, hard to grasp, hard to let go of, & hard to understand.

I often hear, that once you're in love, it's forever. You're forever doomed to feel that way for one particular person for the rest of your whole, entire, long, old life. I also hear that with love, comes pain. I also hear that love changes you, it makes you a better person, an accepting person.

Love is all around us.

Poets, musicians, singers, authors, artists, dancers and actors have all blossomed from love. We see Hallmark profit from cupid's victims and the price of roses reach sky high on valentines day. On sidewalks to beaches we see couples holding hands, intimately hugging and passionately kissing. Every year, thousands die from broken hearts, thousands also spend endless amounts of money on frosting, and of course, for that special day. Millions of tears fall due to the happiness & sadness love blesses us with.

There are no constraints, rules, or boundaries when it comes to this word .. & that's for sure ... and maybe that's why it's so complicated. Because if there were constraints, I'd know what to do in order to avoid the hurt. If there were rules, I'd follow them to find happiness. And lastly, if there were boundaries, I'd know for certain what love would feel like & whether or not I'm in love.

As you've guessed, my name is Thea which is greek for goddess. I'm a seventeen year old, who currently attends Macquarie University studying B-Comm accounting.

I was born on the eighteenth day of April 1990, which makes me a firey Aries and born in the year of the Horse, who has a love for diamonds and romance.

I am an only child which explains the abnormal behaviour I promulgate. Throughout the years I've learned how to entertain myself without turning into a complete psychopath. Unfortunately, I dislike the spoilt brat cliche I'm often imposed with. I don't consider myself a snob, who is obsessed with materialistic highs. Although I admit I can be a brat .. sometimes, especially when you push the wrong buttons.

I'd assume if you met me, you'd think I'm very much angelic, quiet & bubbly. Only the last would probably be true. I'd say I have split personalities, not only split but multiple! One day I could be tearing your head off, the next I'd be showering you with hugs & kisses. But one thing is certain, whatever my mood, I'll express it with my face & actions. I'm often told that I have mature thoughts, & that only applies sometimes as I'm a kid at heart.

My hair is naturally brown, so please don't annoy me by asking what colour dye I use. My father being spanish explains why an Asian like me doesn't have charcoal black hair. I was born and raised for four years in the Philippines until my family migrated to Australia.

Being asian has its quirks, such as having the ability to outrun anything, having a super fast metabolism, believing in the supernatural and being tiny enough to fit into small crevices. Or maybe the last aberration only applies to me, I'm what you would call 'petite.'

I follow the Catholic religion, so you'd probably see me attending church every Sunday morning or night and reading the bible for inspirational quotes on how to live my life. But this doesn't mean I'm perfect, I do of course have flaws.

You'll see me prowling around the area with mainly boys. Boys are genuine & don't usually obsess about useless gossips. I enjoy being one of the boys. Playing sports, being immature and immersing myself in obscure activities, which in most cases are illegal, absolutely hilarious and extremely fun!

Yes, I'm an athletic type. I'll be up for anything! Throughout my years, the sports that I have competed in have been Basketball, Indoor Soccer & Swimming.

Not only do I enjoy playing, but I love watching sports. What girl can resist hot, sweaty boys? With their big muscular arms and athletic body. Rugby does it for me! & those basketball & soccer players - oh damn.

I'm currently content with being single. I'm not looking for anything temporary, & I'm not really keen in looking or testing out the waters. But you know what they say, you think you know what you want .. but you really haven't a clue. If you're really something amazing, you may sweep me off my feet without me or you even knowing.

I have issues with technology, as I believe they killed any prospects of romance. Then again it could just be the boys of my generation that don't seem to have the romantic gene. Old fashioned dates is something I want revived!

Reading beautiful prose is what I live for. I'm what you would call a book nerd and I'm a sucker for Romance novels. Although a hearty laugh is what I love. Books allow me to escape into a realm on contentment, which my life usually lacks.

Throughout my life, I've met a few bad eggs, so don't hate if I have trust issues. I also have a habit of twisting your words to suit my frame of mind. It takes someone special to beat me at my mind games. My advise, give up & let me win, you'll do me & yourself a favour.

Feel privilaged if I call you a friend. This does not include if you are someone on my MSN list or if I have accepted you on myspace. But once you're in my little network of 'true friends' you'll be showered with love & appreciation. You'll also get an earful of how great I am & how lucky you are to have someone sexy like me in your life!

I'm going to end with the best thing to do in the world! & that is eating. It's my favourite thing to do! Food is the most beautiful thing on this whole entire planet. It never disappoints! More likely than not you'll find me chewing, if not, i'll have a bag of treats secretly stashed.