Well now, just a quick entry, with one thing to say.

The next time you’re so freaking self absorbed in your life and ‘everything’s so wrong’ take a look around. It dosen’t matter if you’re having a small argument with friends, family etc… The next time you’re complaining about school, think for a moment before opening your mouth. Millions of children are dying to go to school. Dying to learn to read and write. Dying to live. We, are the And what do we do? Complain.

 

I know it’s human instinct to never be happy. Greed, and always wanting more. But for Christ’s sake, look at the people around you. The earth and all the universe does not revolve around you.

 

After sitting here and observing things, I must say that people… suck. Some do not however, and I think you all know who you are.

 

Anyway, I have to go blow up balloons before Dee and Lain spleen my squiggly spooch. No wait, Tie up balloons.

 

Thank You and Goodnight™.

Laura (Who knows there is nothing humorous or coherent about this entry)

Sampson sat on the overhanging cliff face of the bay, at a slightly alarming height, silently, his head buried, his hair curtaining his eyes, furiously writing on the bleached paper infront of him. He sat with he legs dangling over the cliff face, where below the steep edge lay jagged rocks that jaunted out at dangerous angles. Fifteen meters below him the cliff plunged where it stopped at the green grey water of the bay. The water foamed a brilliant white, its white teeth devouring the edge of the cliff. Sampson paused for a moment, pushed his auburn hair out of his face and narrowed his green eyes onto the picture in front of him. He quickly turned his head left to shield his gaze from the blinding reflection of the sun upon the water. Directly parallel to his body, on the water, was what looked like a streak of white paint that had been dragged along the river until it had reached the horizon where the sun sat. It seemed that the streak painted so brilliantly shone with such intensity that Sampson had to look away in effort to prevent being blinded. He looked down at what he had written, trying to decode his messy writing, but as his eyes were temporarily stunned from the glint of the water, the words swam and the black ink seemed to glow red. He looked up again, this time shifting his gaze away from the vivid luminosity that had occupied the river.

 

The bay he was at, August’s Edge had always awed him. It seemed to be a perfect example of humanities perfect attempt to re-create the nature it had to carelessly destroyed. Even though towering trees and lawns of grass occupied the space behind him, large sky scrapers, bridges and huge grey ships contrasted and ruined the illusion of nature. Furthermore, the smell of smoke and petrol hung in the air, betraying the meager attempt at conserving the original environment of the bay. Yet every so often, Sampson would just sit there, his legs dangling off the ledge, just writing. He often notices things that other people just walked by. That’s what he was, a quiet observer. For example, staring into the river below him, he did not see the sky’s blue reflection, but instead the thousands of tiny ripples and swirls that seemed to rip at the smooth, flawless grey satin surface of the river. He did not just see water, but instead a colossal ongoing, a movement of a great body, much more significant than his own. He was small and unimportant when compared to the great forces that lay beyond him.

 

Thank You and Goodnight™

Laura (Who just cheated you out of an entry)

 

Well. I’m still alive. I haven’t disappeared of the face of the planet. I haven’t created morally disturbing blogs (yet) I haven’t converted to bible stories. I haven’t given anyone a weak excuse for stopping to manufacture blogs. Even though I’m a poor orphan I still manage to write them? What does that say about you guys? Huh!

 

So, I’m not god. Nor am I Jesus, thanks to the certain someone who claims he is the immaculate conception. He immaculately conceived AIDS, but that’s a whole different story.

 

Flump suggested that I write a blog about people bitching about things to me. I then pointed out that I would be bitching about them, which defeats the whole purpose of writing a blog about people bitching to me about I bitching about them. Confused yet? Plus I’m too happy/ tired to care anymore.

 

I soon turn fifteen (On the 12^th for those of you who are as forgetful as I am). When this happens, the following events will take place…

·          All other French Wenches will implode, then explode all over there masters. I shall remain in one piece, and no splattered all over the wall. Don’t ask me why this will happen. It just will.

·          I will probably be woken up early by my cabin mate. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my sleep. I really do. But it’s merely impossible for me to sleep well.  Not many of you have yet seen me in the morning. I’ll tell you what happens. I wake up and for about half an hour I’m in this agreeable weird state. I look at things, and don’t register anything anyone says to me. If someone were to come up to me with a cheque for a million dollars put out to them, and asked me to sign it, I’d probably say ‘yeah whatever’ and give you my whole bank account (Which isn’t one million dollars, but oh how I wish it were!)   After that, I’m really insanely cheery. It sounds like I’m on Prozac and Valium simultaneously. After about an hour, I pipe down and I’m my normal Wenchy self.

·          My parents will call, since I’m on music camp. People when then turn around and look at me strangely saying ‘HOLY CRAP SHE CAN SPEAK FRENCH’  I know this because everyone does this.

·          All the children in Cambodia will make wax candles for me and send them over in a boat made of newspaper articles about Hitler.

·          I will stop making incredibly pointless lists such as this one, in efforts to stop procrastinating cleaning my room/ packing for camp/ showering.

 

News just in: THEY CANCELLED MY PHYSICS EXCURSION. How dare they? This is a travesty! I paid thirty one dollars to go to the raceway and do nothing, not for nothing y’know. Oh man, now I actually have to do my homework… Or maybe I could talk my way out of it? Yes. Good idea. Laura.  

 

In response to your comments:  It’s odd that people want to marry me. My great grandma once said to me ‘Laura, you’re a very pretty girl. You should find a nice man and settle down instead of playing guitar and all the jargin. Be a lady’

Excuse me? A lady? Settle down? I’m fourteen, not forty. I’m scared. I’m a wench… but Jesus.

 

Talking about my homeboy (being Jesus that is) I have no idea what the entry is about. I haven’t actually thought of a topic yet. Haha. This blog may not have a beginning nor and end. I apologize.

 

Now I’m going to write a great little story that won’t make any sense. I hope you enjoy. Adios all!

 

*Please note, all similarities to actual people are purely coincidental. Even names.

 

One day there was a great man named Ludwig the Second Ninja Apprentice of the Century.

His name didn’t make much sense, however as he wasn’t an apprentice, he was a karate and tai-kwon-doe master. Ludwig was tall and lanky, his old white hair seemed to float above his frail body. Yes, Ludwig was a victim to old age, and since no one had yet discovered how to freeze a man without killing him, Ludwig was almost certainly, going to die. The old man, rotted with age stood up from his cordless couch, wobbling unsteadily on his wooden walking stick. He closed his eyes and stepped in front of the mirror. He rubbed his temples, a million thoughts flittering through his mind at once. Suddenly, two adolescent boys, or comrades, came crashing in from Ludwig’s rice paper window. However, even though it was rice paper, the window made a sound effect, because this is my story and rice paper will make any dang sound it wants to. Anyway, the two young men had failed to notice that the frail old man was having a heart attack from shock. The continued sword fighting with rolls of wrapping paper, yelling ‘Avast Ye Mangy Scum!’ Until one of the lads was catapulted backwards with some force field that came from no where.

 

“Ouch!” yelped the boy. “I’m so lucky that this newly dead corpse broke my fall!” said the boy names Flump. No, this was not his real name you silly people. He then realized what he had just said, and his eyes opened in shock.

“Oh shit, when did this get here?” said Flump.  His comrade, Jaryd walked over and poked the corpse with his roll of wrapping paper.

“I don’t know. Let’s steal his stuff” replied Jaryd eyeing the mans home, furnished with expensive Japanese things that could be sold on ebay for more than God’s weight in gold… Even though god’s weight is undetermined, it must be colossal, since he’s almighty and all. Flump looked up at Jaryd.

“Jaryd, that’s HORRID! I say we burn the place down.”

Since both the boys were pyromaniacs, they found some matches, a lighter, and a pile of dead otters and lit them on fire before running out of the house.

 

*****

(Because they’re allowed to do that to separates bits of the stories in novels)

 

Laura, the poor little orphan girl wearing a grey potato sack sat comfortable on Dee’s couch in her friend’s humble abode. Okay, it wasn’t really Dee’s humble abode, but Dee, Lain and the poor little orphan had broken in in attempts to steal some cheese. It had failed when they realized that the person’s house did not have a fridge. Don’t ask me how we made that mistake. The three of them sat on the couch, not really quite sure what to do.

“So, what do you want to do?” said Lain, clearly bored.

“I don’t know, what do you want to do” replied Dee, her voice drawling with bordness. They were all clearly bored.

“I know! Let’s go on an adventure! Like pirates!” exclaimed Laura, jumping up from her seat. They shot her weird looks.

“Do you think she’s on crack again?” asked Lain.

“No, couldn’t be. Orphan’s can’t afford crack. She probably just licked a toad.” Replied Dee starting at the odd child in front of her.

Laura gave the EVIL POUT OF DOOM and, the window broke. The three girls cast a look at the window and quickly hid beneath the couch. Two boys came in.

“Do you think they live here?” whispered Laura, her eyes wide. Well I do have large eyes, but let’s just say they are SUPER MEGA OPENED right now.

“Couldn’t be. They’d use the doors. Unless they’re morons,” replied Dee, her voice just as low. The boys were fighting with rolls of wrapping paper. It was safe to assume they didn’t live there at all.

 

“What should be do?” asked Lain. Suddenly they all heard a roar coming back from downstairs. It was a loud noise that disturbed people. The booming voice said “Wooosh… Shoom… BLARKADREEKU!” Suddenly, the two boys with the wrapping paper joined them under the couch. A series of yelps were let out as it was far too cramped for five people.

“Who the feck are you?” asked the orphan to the boy next to her.

“Erm. I’m Jaryd” he said peering to see who was coming up the stairs.

“That dosen’t explain anything. What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed.

“I was fighting Flump.” He said hurridly.

“What the hell is going on?” yelled Dee trapped under Lain’s arm. They were all a human knot.

“Well, your commando rolls were impressive, but we were here first. Get out you two” said Dee. But then, they saw what came up the stairs.

“FEE FIE FOE THUMB, I SMELL THE BLOOD OF MAGGOTS” said the figure, otherwise known as Adrian. He stopeed and laughed “Haha, I can say maggot because I have a buzz cut!” he spoke with glee. His face then turned to seriousness again.

“I smell children. And you know what I do to children? I eat them!” he said, his voice booming, for he was a child eating army commander giant.

“That bastard…!” started Dee… “What kind of child eating army commander giant doesn’t have cheese in the house!?”  Laura crawled out from under the couch. It was getting hard to breathe trapped under Jaryd’s armpit and Flumps feet. She stood up, dusted off her potato sack and looked Adrian right in the eye.

 

“Who the hell are you?” said the giant.

“Erm, I’m an orphan/ French-wench.” Said Laura looking up at the tall figure. Adrian raised an eyebrow.

“That dosen’t explain anything” he said frowning. Just then Flump and Jaryd jumped up from the couch.

“Woot! I wench, I’ve always wanted one of these” said Jaryd dragging Laura towards the doorway.

“Yeah, you see we tried to order her by mail, and she got lost. They said six to eight weeks delivery, but we wanted a sandwich.” Said Flump taking the orphan by her other arm and also dragging her towards the doorway. Laura frowned, pouted and karate chopped the both of them.

“Hmm. Kids. I’LL GRIND YOUR BONES TO MAKE MY CHOCOLATE MILK SHAKE” yelled Adrian. Dee and Lain suddenly came to the rescue by swinging on curtains and spin kicking Adrian in the back of the head. It wasn’t enough though, because Adrian is a GIANT, and Dee and Lain, sadly, are not.

Adrian sighed “Fine, I won’t eat you” he relented. “But you must stay for some cheese” he said holding up a Woolworth’s green bag. Dee squealed in delight, for she loved cheese. Jaryd and Flump loved food so they let go of the wench and agreed to stay for cheese. Lain liked cheese too, and Laura, well she was just happy to receive a meal. So they all went downstairs, ate cheese at a round table, drank tea, and became comrades. Then Flump’s phone rang. It was Hitler. He was alive again…

 

To be continued… Maybe…

 

 

On a completely unrelated story, look at the thing I drew on my wrist. Isn’t it cool! I always do that when I’m bored. Draw all over my right hand. Hah.

 

Thank You and Goonight™

Laura (The last entry in the mind set of a fourteen year old)

 

Dear Youth...

 

So many tragedies, so many innocent lives lost through politics. Just for sahying what you think, what you feel. Oppressive regimes taking away your freedom, censoring your right to speak. Fascism, Racism and Nazism. Does it make anyone angry at all?  Not most of the youth of today! Sorry to pull a blanket on all of today's society (even myself), but, it's sad and true. Investigating the majority of today's my space generation, or X.x.Kore.X.x youngsters I have found that no one cares. ‘I’d don’t really care about the world. It’s all boring and shit, and bad things happen. It dosen’t really matter, this is my life right?’ Wrong. If you just agreed with that previous sentence, sodd the fuck off. No seriously. Sodomize yourself now to save your future kids.

 

Most people have no idea what communism is, even the mention of Pol Pot, Idi Amin, Joseph Stalin, Hitler, Vladimir Lenin, Slobodan Milošević, Augusto Pinochet are enough to leave generation ‘x’ clueless, asking ‘say WHAT now?’ The other day, someone asked me who George W Bush was (the same person also went on to ask me what Nirvana was… Yes, I know it’s sad)  For gods sake people. Am I just surrounded my morons or have you stopped listening to what people are saying around you, stuck your fingers in your ears permanently and started smoking hemp (even though this is ironic because I don't know HOW some would smoke with their fingers in their ears.)

 

Historic events, such as Hiroshima, Tiananmen Square and the massacre of Tibet hasn’t exactly sparked anger in many of my friends. Just ‘lol Laura, you’re so emo and lyke opinionated and shit. You kinda scare me. LYKE ZOMG, You’re on drugs, aren’t you!’

No fuck wits, I’m not on drugs. I just happen to care what happens around the world, rather than discuss what colour nail polish I bought (like black is so last season Laura, you look ghastly) or who the latest teen hot pop star shit is.

 

God damn it people, when will you start caring? These things are important. Sure, you might hate Hitler and George W. Bush.  But do you know why you hate them so? No. Half of you don’t know what the Holocaust is, and you hate Bush because John Howard and himself are ‘LOL, LYKE SO GHEY!!!111’

 

So who is to blame? Not that we need to blame anyone, that would just make us all politicians. (Haha, bad pun, I know) Well not the education system. There is so much that they can teach us, and politics, is not one of them. Too many parents are narrow minded for that. They spout rubbish of ‘This isn’t proper, you’re brainwashing my kids!  I don’t want them to have OPINIONS. Dear Lord’

Secondly, most politics are taught with a Right or Left wing opinion attatched to them. It’s almost impossible for a clueless children to formulate an opinion without being influenced.  However, just think, if I can learn about politics myself, at home then why can’t anyone else? Why do we need schools to teach it? Why can’t you just get off your trendy asses and take a look at what’s going down. I don’t expect you to know EVERYTHING, but knowing who on earth Ghandi was, would prove useful if your trying to uphold and interesting conversation with any adult.

 

The government isn’t to blame either (I feel so dirty). They censor most stories for the fear that it will ‘offend’ someone somewhere. As a wise friend once said, “The government are too prissy to have an opinion on anything but war.”

 

So to finalise this cacophony of rambling, I’d like to state that we, as youth have to take matters into our own hands. We ARE the future, and no amount of ‘I don’t want to grow up, hey let’s go to Supre!’ is ever going to change up. So, to all of you mindless indecisive teenagers out there, who don’t pay attention to anything but themselves, I deliver this message to you…

 

WAKE… THE FUCK… UP!

 

Oh yeah, and to any of you who are going to lecture me about this, telling me that I’m growing up to fast, and I’m just doing this to be ‘tough’ and not fit in, go fuck yourself. Seriously. No one else will.  Yes, I’m a whiney bitch. No, I’m not a lesbian. And yes, I will someday get married.

 

Opinions expressed solely by Laura – The Only Wench in the world.

 

Thank You and Goodnight™

Laura (Free Tibet and Free Society)

 

EDIT ON THE LAST BLOG:  No, I was not going to shut my blog down. I meant that entry. Obviously I screwed that up. My grasp of the English language failed that night. Apparantly that’s the first sign on insanity.

 

No Jaryd, Chard, Isaac, Ryan, Panda, Ash, and Andrea. You Rock. =D I love to see that people still read what I write.