my friend "the retarded one"

I've decided to do a series of posts on my very colourful friends and their very quirky ways and how that makes my days complete. Be they the building blocks of the day or the icing on the proverbial cake.

I met the retarded one during the orientation program of the previous semester. He was a buddy and He reminded me of a crazy Moses. He was sporting a full beard at the time and was randomly saying crazy things. If you think about it, the Israelites would have probably thought that Moses was pretty nuts, leading them out into the desert and such. I digress.

So what of the retarded one? He has a terrible disposition when he's very hungry other than that he can be quite charming. If you ever need a pep talk, go to him. He'll relate to you one of his dragon slayer stories in which you are the dragon slayer who has slain a dragon and well he tells it a lot better than I do. He's given me my fair share of dragon slayer stories for the various downers I've had over the last two semesters.

A real man because when it comes down to it, you can always count on him. We have too many running gags for me to do any justice to by writing them in this space. Let me assure you that any time spent with this chap is time well spent.

Here is to you mate. You bastard! You went out drinking without me! Dirty bastard!

Oh well still love you mate. Haha.

the valkryie are no more

take me starshine lead me aright,
bury me starshine there is nought to fight,
the lights are out in Valhalla,
Odin has fallen and the Gods are no more,

I the slain chosen starshine,
but the Valkyrie are no more,
lay me down starshine bury me deep,
for we've lost, at Ragnarok our defeat,

They cannot bring me back starshine,
and you should not try my love,
this warrior has fought his last,
now disgraced all he seeks is freedom's escape,

The Valkyrie are no more,
and Valhalla is cold,
lead me one last time starshine,
lead me to where I may lie forever in your grace,

my friend "the rockstar"

I've decided to do a series of posts on my very colourful friends and their very quirky ways and how that makes my days complete. Be they the building blocks of the day or the icing on the proverbial cake.

My friend the rockstar. Is not a rockstar though she has all the glamour in her to be that diva rockstar you see on tv. She is fabulous. Odd. Quirky. Random. Beautiful.

Blessed with a brilliant mind, this woman is destined for greatness. You can almost see the stardust falling off this shooting star as she blazes through your life. It's almost too much to handle till she goes and does something or says something comical and you look at her and see this little girl who you can't help but adore. Did I mention she's a funky dancer? Yeah this lady can move her hips and what a nice set of hips she has.

Moving on. How did we meet? At the women's room in Monash. Well not really. At the editors office downstairs when she was asking about some twit I had had the unfortunate pleasure of grouping with for a project. I proceeded to give her my perception of him. We went on to talking a lot over facebook's brilliant chat system. After a millennia we exchanged emails and started chatting over msn. Finally had our first proper conversation in person at this semester's orientation program and only exchanged phone numbers after the monash ball. You don't get much more platonic than that.

Our running joke is how set apart we feel from the world around us. We the people of our lofty places. I reason it's cause we have our heads so far up our arses. She agrees. Another joke we have is her reference to men as being halal and non-halal. Her charm personified.

At times she refers to me as by the grace of God. A reference to a story I told her about myself. We are kindred spirits.

This is to you rockstar.

my friend "dajuice"

I've decided to do a series of posts on my very colourful friends and their very quirky ways and how that makes my days complete. Be they the building blocks of the day or the icing on the proverbial cake.

My friend Dajuice or so his gaming handle goes is one of my closest friends. I met him what seems like an eternity ago on a university field trip to Sunway Pyramid's ice skating ring (it's actually an oval). I sized him up and thought to myself, sweaty palm pervert. I wasn't wrong and it's a good thing. Well the sweaty palm thing could be a problem for some but since I don't ever find cause to hold his hand I'm quite right. I watched him slam into a wall of the ring, he was going to fast on the ice his first time ice skating, didn't know how to break and bam, Dajuice meet wall, wall meet Dajuice. The lecture and I had to laugh.

I also singled him out as being the most intelligent person on that field trip which was the catalyst for our friendship. His apparent vastly superior intellect to the others lead to me asking him for his notes as the exams drew near. It was the foot in for our friendship. I didn't see myself acquiring a new friend that day but I did and I'm glad.

A constant running joke about our friendship is that Dajuice is my wife. I personally think if I was into men, I would have better taste. That being said ladies he's a terrific guy. Don't let his mum find him a penguin to marry. Do the right thing be a man... err I mean woman and get to know this awesome guy. Riddled with idiosyncrasies he is one unique individual. You'll love him as I have grown to.

He's in love with my dog. The dude is odd and I wouldn't have it any other way. Life wouldn't be if it weren't for him. He's bailed me out so many times. I repay him with the occasional chocolate.

This is to you Dajuice.

my friend "minimus"

I've decided to do a series of posts on my very colourful friends and their very quirky ways and how that makes my days complete. Be they the building blocks of the day or the icing on the proverbial cake. I start with the last person I spoke with online tonight and the rest shall proceed in no particular order.

This friend is a funny bunny, a goofy girl and has a case of selective herpetophobia lizardsaurus minimus or so I've pronounced it as such. More importantly she makes me happy, makes me smile.

First things first, herpetophobia is the fear of reptiles and while she's only afraid of your everyday garden variety lizard or gecko I've decided her reaction to the presence of a lizard should be given it's own name hence selective herpetophobia lizardsaurus minimus. Thus providing me a new nickname for her "Minimus". I use it with all the affection I can muster.

I met her sometime at the beginning of the previous semester, one of those random occurrences or perhaps not, owing to the fact that God works in mysterious ways. I know she'll get a kick out of that line.

While the meeting of two people is not necessarily the kick off for a friendship and I personally count the start of our friendship as being the day we were stuck at a bus stop while the rain fell all around us. It was a good day. I love the rain and so does she. It made for good conversation time. From their our friendship has progressed and strengthened and only proceeds to get stronger.

A running joke between us is the naming of "our" children. Why this joke? I have no idea where it started, might be that one time we had a talk about her biological clock counting down and I being the gentleman that I am stepped up and offered my services in an effort to save the species. Doing my part to ensure the continued survival of the human race. I think. I might be wrong. On another note none of the names I come up with are ever right for "our" kids. Women! Gah! Haha.

The women is nuts. I swear it's a good thing. It's an awesome thing. When I'm down, she makes me smile, when I'm out of touch, she reconnects me. I've no complaints on the nuttiness that ensues. We have the most brilliant chats about everything and nothing and we share the same great taste in music. Well almost, some of my music is more awesome. No one is perfect.

I don't know where life will take us but I'm glad I met her. I love her as I do all my friends.

Here is to you minimus.

More friends to come.

the kill - 30 seconds to mars

What if I wanted to break
Laugh it all off in your face
What would you do? (Oh, oh)
What if I fell to the floor
Couldn't take all this anymore
What would you do, do, do?

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you

What if I wanted to fight
Beg for the rest of my life
What would you do?
You say you wanted more
What are you waiting for?
I'm not running from you (from you)

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you
Look in my eyes
You're killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

I tried to be someone else
But nothing seemed to change
I know now, this is who I really am inside.
Finally found myself
Fighting for a chance.
I know now, this is who I really am.

Ah, ah
Oh, oh
Ah, ah

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you, you, you.
Look in my eyes
You're killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

Come break me down (bury me, bury me)
Break me down (bury me, bury me)
Break me down (bury me, bury me)

(You say you wanted more)
What if I wanted to break...?
(What are you waiting for?)
Bury me, bury me
(I'm not running from you)
What if I
What if I
What if I
What if I
Bury me, bury me

stormtrooper

art in me - jars of clay

Images on the sidewalk speak of dream's decent
Washed away by storms to graves of cynical lament
Dirty canvases to call my own
Protest limericks carved by the old pay phone

In your picture book I'm trying hard to see
Turning endless pages of this tragedy
Sculpting every move you compose a symphony
And you plead to everyone, "see the art in me"

Broken stained-glass windows, the fragments ramble on
Tales of broken souls, an eternity's been won
As critics scorn the thoughts and works of mortal man
My eyes are drawn to you in awe once again

In your picture book I'm trying hard to see
Turning endless pages of this tragedy
Sculpting every move you compose a symphony
And you plead to everyone, "see the art in me

goodbye, goodnight - jars of clay

A flower for your vanity, a penny for your thoughts
About the worlds insanity and how weve gotten lost
Strike up the band to play a song as we go waltzing by
And fake a smile as we all say goodbye

Goodbye, oh goodbye

Say a prayer for recognition, kiss the ones you love
Gather up the ammunition, sigh for all the lost
Strike up the band to play a song as we go waltzing by
And fake a smile as we all say goodbye

Raise a glass for ignorance, drink a toast to fear
The beginning of the end has come thats why we all are here
Strike up the band to play a song and try hard not to cry
And fake a smile as we all say goodbye
Goodbye

my suicide note

Note: Before you read this understand that I am not suicidal, that this is a work of fiction, that I am in a bad mood and that I am very bored.

To the person who reads this,

I took my life today and the world probably did not notice that fact till you found my corpse with this note by my side. Still even with the knowledge of my passing the world will not be moved with sorrow, it will not mourn my loss, it will continue to spin as it always has and after my body has been cremated everyone who attended my funeral will go on with their lives. Let that be a lesson to you, no one really cares and the truth be told no one is obliged to.

To my mother, I'm sorry I was never the son I should have been and once again I fail you because I shall never be able to be that person. You always made things right, you always mended my heart and set me straight but not this time, I've done something no one can fix. I pray your heart mends soon, my sister and father will need you more than ever. My father especially. I love you and in death I will still love you wherever I may be.

To my father, I will never be the man I could have been, soon I shall be nothing more than the ash that lines your ashtray. My passing will lighten the load and my sister's future is now secure. I won't be around to argue with you and to test your patience. Perhaps my sister will benefit from the extra patience you can give her. I love you pap, I'm sorry I wasted so much and now have amounted to so little.

To my sister, you are special and I know that in life I never told you just how special you are. I know I gave you a hard time and I said things that put you down. Looking back on those things now I realise that I was always jealous at how much better you had things. Smarter, faster, better looking you are everything I wish I could have been. Do not let this stop you from achieving the greatness that was meant for you. At least I will have one less thing to envy about you in death. I love you and I will miss you.

To my friends, you made my daily life bearable, some of you were the building blocks of my day and others the icing on the cake. You all had your part to play in keeping me around but now I'm too far into myself to be enticed by your beauty and your friendship. This is where I end our journey together, this is where I say goodbye.

Dear reader no one, not one of you could have done anything to save me. Because I never wanted to save myself. I took my life not because I was afraid of the future but because I could see no future, I took my life not because I have no reason to live but the reasons I have weren't enough, I took my life because I couldn't face another day being me. I love you all more than anything and there in lies the problem, I have no more love left for myself. Fear not, none of you shall have to see me suffer in the place I'm going to, hell is not for any of you. Goodbye.

Yours sincerely,
Tristan D.

why do i bother?

I do not know hence the question. Like duh!

The question you should be asking yourself is "what shouldn't he bother with?"

And the answer to that is everything. Indeed.

I don't know why I do half the things I do. The nice things for the less enlightened.

I should just be the arsehole I was born to be.

Feelings are such trifle things, being an arsehole would enable me to not care if I hurt them. Being nice means I've got tell you I'm ok when really all I want to do is go back to bed. Or say fuck the world.

Being an arsehole will also get me scores of women or so I'm told. Being nice surely hasn't done the trick.

Being an arsehole will let me cut that other arsehole off on the road without my conscience getting in the way. Being nice gets you nowhere at best and at worse cut off by that arsehole without a conscience.

Being an arsehole gets you free shit and allows you to talk down to people. Being nice gets you talked down at and your shit taken from you.

Being an arsehole, I wouldn't ask myself why I bother, because I wouldn't bother and then I wouldn't have anything to be bother about.

Fuck! I should be an arsehole! I'd fucking rock! I'd be able to say shit like fuck those fuck fucking fuckers!

Arseholes unite! For the record that does not mean I'm anal retentive. Butt you get the point.

Heck being nice sucks fucking balls.

See being an arsehole allows me to use gratuitous amounts of profanity without anyone being able to say jack shit about it. Being nice means I've got to keep in mind what people think of me. I say fuck you! I guess I've already become an arsehole.

Now I can go on with my life not giving a shit about anyone or anything. Thus not being bothered.

And as part of my induction into the brotherhood of being an arsehole I say that I hate you, your family, your dog, those kids from down the street and most of all I hate the fish, oh how I loathe the fish!

Hail to the king baby! Fuck yeah!

dean martin - you're nobody till somebody loves you

You're nobody 'til somebody loves you
You're nobody 'til somebody cares.
You may be king, you may possess the world and it's gold,
But gold won't bring you happiness when you're growing old.
The world still is the same, you never change it,
As sure as the stars shine above;
You're nobody 'til somebody loves you,
So find yourself somebody to love.

The world still is the same, you never change it,
As sure as the stars shine above;
You're nobody 'til somebody loves you,
So find yourself somebody, find yourself somebody,
Find yourself somebody to love.

dirty hungarian phrasebook - monty python

no my dear you aren't perfect

You aren't perfect my dear and that is why He loves you. That is why I love you.

A friend and I discuss the perfect example of being a Christian, she tells me she's definitely not a good example of a Christian, I ask her when did she become perfect? I tell her, I remember her being human and trying and that is what counts. I say the only perfect example is Christ, she concurs.

We are trying to emulate a life that is completely foreign to our nature, some of us are closer than others. I reckon I'm pretty far behind and she is way ahead, I still try though.

We talk about God and his work, I think no one can truly stand in the way of God's work, except us with His work in our lives. We are the measure of the success or failure for the plans He has for us. We decide whether or not God's plan for us comes to pass.

If I make myself immovable then God cannot use me. But He can still move me out of the way so that someone else may benefit from His grace and His plan. Some days I fear that has already happened to me. Much like the branch of the tree that doesn't bear fruit must be removed so that the rest of the tree maybe preserved, I fear I have been cut away. It's lonely without Him. Though it does also say in the bible that just as it can be cut away, it can also be reattached, graphed back onto the tree.

Though I think it's the flaws in us and how God helps us to overcome them that makes us useful to Him. If we were perfect to start with we would have no stories to tell of how we were refined, our ministry would be without substance and we would never be able to reach out. The bible talks about God putting us through the refiner's fire to make us pure gold, so that we may be set apart to do His will. The strife we go through makes us into what we need to be in order to accomplish what is needed of us.

So no my dear you aren't perfect but that is what makes you perfect for Him.

Completely perfect imperfection. Now it's your turn to write.

a sad clown

i tear and i don't know why,
i let out this long sigh,
i look to see,
and i know that it will never be,

i am foolhardy to believe,
naive to think it true,
it was never meant to be,
and now i can see,

one cannot make what doesn't exist,
to hope is to live in vain,
a price i have paid,
and now i lay it all in the grave,

the painted smile gone,
tears the only mark on my face,
laugh at the fool now,
i the court jester down,

i open my eyes one last time,
to see the beauty i thought mine,
i tear and i know why,
i simply sigh as the light slowly dies,

kiss the rain - billie myers