Momentary variation from the norm.

I want my own Dead Poet’s Society.  

I want a few friends to disappear with into the night.

I want a couple bottles of whiskey.

I want a cigar or two.

I want a beach clearing.

I want battered poetry books of old.

I want a Kindle filled with poets new.

I want paper and pens strewn across the picnic towel.

I want lifeless poems sacrificed to the drift wood fire.

I want unafraid voices carrying the survivors.

I want exhaustion.

I want self-consciousness dead.

I want myself alive.

The daily post prompt asked a question similar to ‘do groups of people inspire you?’ My answer is a resounding yes, and it made me miss the feelings I had at tertiary.

The late-night working sessions,

the coffee induced craziness,

the comfortable sigh of completing something magical.

It seems so out of reach now. 


“It worked”.

These two words were uttered by Julius Robert Oppenheimer, aka ‘the father of the atomic bomb’ at 05:29:21 July 16, 1945. At this precise moment the very first atomic bomb, Trinity to its makers, exploded above the Jornada del Muerto desert and announced the atomic evolution of humankind.

I’m from New Zealand, a very well known passively aggressive country, whose stance on nuclear weapons is proudly summed by NZ Prime Minister David Lange’s near opening lines of “there is no moral place for nuclear weapons”. (A full audio recording is available here So, why would a Kiwi choose to be a ‘fly on the wall’ in such a removed historical setting that which she is not accustomed, nor affected, by.

I would want to be a fly on the wall at the very instance of 05:29:21 July 16, 1945, in the Jornada del Muerto desert, because it is the very moment where humanity realised its absolute power, and shook hands with mutual destruction. It is when we overlooked the fairness of war, and gazed upon a singular ultimatum. It is when we looked at the pureness of energy, and turned it into something ultimately, and undeniably, horrific.

I would want to see the men and women responsible for the knowledge we all have been burdened with. The knowledge, that there are some countries out there with power far beyond their measures. There are countries with a red button, that if having a bad day, can single handedly start the greatest destruction we can only as yet imagine. There are countries, which by possessing this madness, dictate to others through fear and intimidation, leaving peaceful resolutions blown apart.

I would want to see the eyes of the men and woman responsible. I want to see if any shine brighter than their creation does. And do they shine with doubt, with regret, with fear? Or were they all shining with power?

And would my eyes shine at such a sight also?

If you could be a ‘fly on the wall’ for any moment of history, where would you choose to go?


Sorry New Zealand.

I grew up on the right side, politically speaking that is. My Dad was always the most vocal in our family, and my thinking would sync with his, cause I thought it was a well-known fact that ‘Dad is always right’. I am also privileged to come from a family who are financially better off than your average ‘Ma and Pa’. So the right side heavily influenced my thoughts about money and financial protection. I thought if you’re stupid enough to not work hard, or save hard, then it was your own damn fault for being poor.


The last New Zealand election, I voted National, the centre-right, and now dominant party in NZ Government.


I am sorry New Zealand that I did.


I have learnt, through watching some outrageous sufferings, that my family is in a tremendously lucky position (though my parents do deserve all the credit in the world for their hard work), and vast majorities of people worldwide are simply not afforded such opportunities.


I vow to vote with my own conscience now. No longer will I support –


Needless environmental destruction.

Needless child hunger.

Needless financial inequality.

Needless economic failures.

Needless Governmental restrictions.

Needless inequality amongst fellow beings.


No longer will I look at the colour of the flag, the smiles of the rats, the polished promise of change. I have seen flags burn, rats bite, and promises left in ruins.


I am angry at politics, but not angry enough to leave it up to others. Every vote counts, every voice counts. I have one year before the next elections to study up, before I will allow my voice heard again.


Next time, it will roar.






“It’s many hundred miles and it won’t be long”.

I wonder who/what took the first step.


Like, literally, the very first step.


That one singular motion which moved said ‘thing’ from one place, to another. Was it aware of movement, of space, of time, of anything? From that movement though, the travel bug was born. A wide spreading contagion lasting the millennia’s, it has lead to such diseases as civilization, human development, and travel agencies.


Why do I travel?


I was a very lucky kid; infected early at the age of ten my family and I went to the magical land of Australia for a holiday (thanks Nan). After that initial dose, I then scratched the bug, and nine other countries off my list, to now count (in travel order) –


New Zealand (North and South)







United States of America




Nowadays I travel because I grew up in a small area. Small cities had their benefits when I was growing up, they were clean, concentrated in friends and family, and you got to know your surroundings very intimately.


Now that I am 22, small areas don’t cut it for me. Small areas represent a lull in development. If I don’t see the landscape changing, then I don’t see myself changing either. So I itch for big places, big ideas, the ‘bigness’ in people. There is too much of the world to see for me to justify staying in one place. No job, no house, no possession, is worth missing these moments.


And it saddens me that I will never see everything. No matter how much effort I make, their will always be something I miss. Something I will never see. Something I will never taste. Someone I will never know. This fear grips me and drives me to insane things, like going out of my comfort zone a lot. And the bug knows this. The bug thrives off this. The bug will eat at my heartstrings, my sanity, until only death can cure me. So before I meet this decidedly unfortunate end, I will feed the bug until it cannot consume me anymore. A bittersweet cure, no?


I thank the bug though, without it I would never feel like I will someday contribute to history.  The bug has taught me how diverse the world is. The bug has taught me how diverse I am. The bug is responsible for a lot, but above all it is responsible for my world-view, a view that sees far beyond the horizon line.


Where do you want to go?








Title is from this song:

Dream Home.

I love being around people, which is strange as I’m very quiet when other humans surround me. It’s my default setting. But the noise and the bustle and the feeling of ‘aliveness’ has injected itself into my veins, and I cannot live in the ‘quiet’ with the ‘roar’ coursing through my heart.

I also don’t wish to own a lot. (Other than books, I will fill the walls with books). Large clunky items annoy me and become overbearing to look at. It is easier to visit art in galleries, visit people at café’s, visit life outside my house. For years I’ve considered the spaces I use as storage spaces, because my activities just don’t have enough room to move in them.

So my dream home will be an apartment. My vision is incomplete, but what I would love to have will consist of these ideas here –

Two bedrooms (one to accommodate drunkard guests who have one too many G&T’s) both over looking a lit cityscape at night. An ensuite off the master bedroom, because everyone loves that private space.
One main bathroom, predominantly white. A shower head the size of a dinner plate, and jets along one wall. Dark stone accents.
Kitchen with full touch activated technology in every stainless steel smear-proof appliance.
Living room with the baddest of all couches and the raddest of all sound systems. Maybe a beanbag or two.

A simple, modern, clean atmosphere, with luxurious items splashed across shelves decorating and enunciate what wealth I might/might not have, will complete the space.

What is your dream home? Is it a large country house, a Spanish villa, or an apartment like I? Does the home or the space around it influence you more?


Forgive me blog for I have sinned.

I have a 3 Stones Pinot Noir 2012 bottle sitting next to me, with its cap meeting its fate in the rubbish bin. It has ‘shows of red cherry, plum and spice’.

This is what victory tastes like.

I am now completing the final challenge set by myself when I fell into a slump.  Day 10, whassap! Today I reveal a confession. 

Cue the collective ‘ooooooooooooooh’.

However, if you were hoping for a fantastically juicy, sexcapadesque story Hugh Hefner would shake hands over hearing, I’m practically a Nun right now and regretfully have no recent story of the sorts to share with you. (And the not-so-recent-but-still-juicy stories you’d have to ask in person, you cheeky devil).

My confession: I’m glad this is over.

Hindsight is a bastard of a teacher.  I know I can thank my past self for succumbing to the idea of a ‘blog challenge’, because I’ve been writing every day, but weren’t these topics rather crap? I’m a little disappointed in myself for needing to use this method. On the plus side, I found two daily prompt blogs with truly inspirational questions posted that I can answer! So you won’t be reading the last of me just yet.  For now I am happy because for once I completed something, which is a very rare occurrence!

Thanks for the ride guys, talk (well…write) again soon. Probably tomorrow. This is very addictive.


Glass post of emotion.

This is my first post written via mobile edit: also drinking).  We just went full hipster up in here.  Never go full hipster. If there are typo’s I do apologise now, this keyboard is horrific.

I need to choose two emotions that describe my life at present.  Two. Damn challenge, why you so hard now?  Especially seeing as I’m on holiday this isn’t really a good representation of ‘real life’, is it?

Thesaurus brain, activated!


I’m definitely getting snuggly with my bed, occasionally cheating on it with various couches. This whole not having a regular job is about to cause irreparable damage known as ‘ a normal sleep pattern ‘.

Two : Intoxicated.

This word means a lot more than the alcoholic badge it has earned. I am overwhelmed with positive emotions lately that it feels like a blissful drugged fantasy, everything is perfect and nothing is poisoned. ( I’m hoping the comedown isn’t horrific ).

What two words did you pick?


It’s a little daunting realising just how many people there are on this beat up ball of dirt.


Over seven BILLION.




That’s a freaking big number.


It’s a wonder how people fall in love with only one person. Not to sound critical, but more amazed at the accomplishment. I’m a sucker for the feeling of love (though it is often confused with lust, and then we start to have a problem), and having only one person on my mind is very difficult. Too many people are just too freaking perfect and I want to passionately love them all.


But I don’t think you can love everyone. Sometimes I feel guilty when I realise what traits I will never, ever, find attractive, for absolutely no good reason other than it’s just not working for me. I hope it’s not some ‘supreme white person’ character of thought, because I don’t feel better than anyone else, but it’s not really a discussion topic that’s talked about often. So I will just hope that everyone else has certain traits they find unattractive for no good reason, and will make me feel less guilty about being picky.


Three things I adore about the people I want to be passionate with are –


One: Humour. This is super cliché and feels dreadfully redundant to say, but it’s super important to me. I’d rather choose never feel love than never feel happy ever again. If you have a broad, intense sense of humour, I’m already yours.


Two: Intelligence. Not the conventional ‘tertiary’ education. We all have that. I mean can you whisper to me everything I don’t know yet? Will you explore the vast newness of what’s out there with me? Can you leave your inhibitions behind and really push yourself up to stand with me and look out at the future? If yes, leave your application with me.


Three. Shoulders. There has to be one physical aspect to drool over. Plus, I like giving massages, so this could work out well for both parties.


Are you super picky about one particular trait? Do/did you ever have a check-list? What percentage of looks v mind do you think you have. I’d say I’m a 30/70 look/brain split myself, which I think is quite comfortable.


Leaving this song here because, well, I like it.




Standard edition.

I don’t think my standards are too high. There are very few things I am picky about. Usually I’m satisfied if you’re alive and have a good grasp of the English language. But the few things that do concern me, I will critically examine and see if they are a trait you have, in which case, laters homie.

Four turn offs, in no special order, based upon real life lessons.

One: You are negative about your family for no good reason. This is something I had to learn about the hard way (which ended in an ugly brawl between the now ex, her parents, and me). Looking back there were a lot of unnecessary negative comments made by her, which stupidly influenced my adolescent, hormonally confused girl opinions. I know you should fall in love with the person, and not their relatives, but if you’re going to trash talk your parents on no reasonable grounds but simply ‘for the lols’, then please leave.

Two: You hate books. This goes against everything I believe in, and makes me think you are uninterested in learning about ANYTHING.

Three: You cling in the ‘ohmygod I haven’t heard from her in three hours she’s totally cheating on me’ kinda way. Honey, calm the F down. I’m just waking up from passing out on a mates couch because drunk driving is a big no-no (which I’m starting to think you are also a big no-no if this is how you react every weekend).

Four: You have no sense of humour. Like, you don’t even laugh at me. If I can’t make you laugh then I’d highly recommend you get your funometer checked because I am hiiiiiiilarious.


EDIT: I completely forgot my absolute number one pet hate. Not being on time. If you are someone who is always late to every event, then we are never to be together. I know this breaks the rules, but this edit is totally worth the honest points.

Do you think my standards are unreasonable? Are you a very fussy person, or do you love everyone on the planet ever? I’d like to know how you judge people (let’s be honest now, we allllllllll do it).


Persons of interest.

‘Five people who mean a lot’ is today’s challenge. I don’t subscribe to the idea of hierarchically positioning friends anymore. Sure when you’re little there’s a ‘best friend’ you sip juice with and construct amazing fairylands to explore together, but today I really despise that title. Or any friend status title. If you’re a person I enjoy the company of I will definitely let you know I appreciate you, but don’t ask me for what your rank is. I have none worthy of your name and what you mean to me anyway.


But the circus that is my blog must go on. So here is my version of five people who mean a lot to me.


One: ‘The smarter than the average bear’ person. This person constantly has quirky quips suitable for every social occasion, and frequently inserts them into conversations to change up the topics. People who are smarter than me (this is a very large group of people I know) are people I respect greatly.


Two: ‘The not so talkative but keep in touch’ person. This person I might not speak to for weeks. Months maybe. I know technology means this shouldn’t really happen, but I’m lazy and pretty forgetful at emails. Now that I write posts (well, try too) keeping up on an individual timeframe is an even worse idea for me to adhere too. But for this somewhat distant person it’s ok to not have a timeframe. We can genuinely act like nothing has changed between us, and when we do catch up in real life it’s as though we hadn’t seen each other for only a second.


Three: ‘The poet’ person. This person knows all the right words to say. All the beautiful, terrifying, mystical, wondrous and powerful words known in English are at their disposal. This person is just beautiful to communicate with, and addictively passionate about it too.


Four: ‘The happy’ person. A very rare type of person to know, being genuinely happy and content with the moment is not something the majority of us are good at being. Sure we can be happy in moments, but to be consistently positive is something very special.


Five: ‘The truthful’ person. This person will let you know exactly what you need to hear. Too many times what you want to hear probably isn’t what you need, and this person knows the difference. It’s a very difficult role because it is often confused with titles such as ‘bitch’ or ‘dickhead’, but more than likely these are our own insecure projections being placed onto this aggressive, yet kind, individual. Learn to recognize who are the truthful ones, they’ll help you a lot more than you think.


What personalities did you think I missed out? Should a lover be considered in this list? Do you think you are one of these types? Let me know!