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Writing about writing

I have had a ‘writers block’ for the past few months, and have had issues with coming up with something to write about. Since I have had a lot of time on my hands lately, I am trying to come up with blog posts. But for the mean time, I thought I would write about, well, writing.

I love writing. I love the freedom that you have, to create anything that you want. I love how you can convey feelings, and how you can express messages. I love how you can make others think, and how I can make myself think.

I can never really tell good writing from bad. If a writer lacks the basic structure of whatever he or she is writing, it tends to fall apart pretty quickly, but if a writer understands how a piece of writing is supposed to flow, really, I don’t see how anyone could be a bad writer.

I have read quite a few blogs over the past year, none of which I could fault the writing. And I have read quite a few different blogs, not just popular ones. Maybe there are a few common principles that writers have  in common, especially bloggers. Most blogs that I have read are extremely honest. If you decide to write a blog, you may as well give it your all, I guess. I think a lot of people would underestimate the bravery that requires.

My writing isn’t really like that. I tend to write about things, and give my opinion on it, instead of writing about me. I don’t know whether that is because I’m not brave enough or because writing about me would get very dull very quickly. Probably a bit of both.

Writing is very therapeutic, I take great comfort in it. It reminds me that there is something I can do. That is one of the big things I love about writing, is that anyone can do it. Even if they can’t physically write it down, everyone create something very unique with words. You don’t need to be unbelievably talented.

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Why I hate New Years Eve

I hate the whole new years tradition. Everything about it. I hate News years eve, new years resolutions, and I even hate the beach, which is where most people in Australia spend new years eve. And yes, you are damn right to say I’m cynical, but I’m allowed to be, sometimes, aren’t I?

The only ‘resolution’ I have for the new year is to get though it. Seems like I’m off to a good start, right? I hate setting goals at the beginning of the year, just because its the beginning of the year. I think, for goals to have a high success rate requires a lot of motivation, and if that motivation is somehow magically discovered at the beginning of the year, and not when you first think of the goal, that there might be a few issues with achieving that goal. Put it plainly, it just isn’t an effective system for me. If it works for you great, if not, then you are like a large percentage of new years eve goal setters.

My hatred of new years eve is a strange one, and I have never identified the exact reason, although I do have a fairly good idea. I seem to have an uncanny ability to  work myself into an alarming panic attack state about the year before ending, and, even worse, the new year beginning. For the past few years I have had incredibly bad years, and now somehow subconsciously, and a little bit consciously, am convinced that it will never get any better. That paralyzing anxiety starts at the beginning of December and doesn’t end till the end of January. I don’t know why. I can’t wait for February though.

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Conversations with my 13 year old self…

Can you be a feminist without knowing what a feminist is? This is one question that I have been asking myself over the past few days. On one hand it seems so incredibly obvious that the answer is yes, people can have a belief without actually knowing what humans have decided to classify it as, and that thought made me think that, case closed, I was a feminist before I actually knew what the terminology was.

But, on the other hand, I have learned so much over the past year about many people’s ideas and beliefs about what feminism is, and what it means to them, that the thought of saying that people can be something without discovering what it truly means to them seems most untrue. Until this year, I didn’t really express my thoughts as much as I do now. I acknowledge them a lot more than I did before.

For some reason, giving something a name seems to clarify a lot of things for me, and most people alike. It is kind of like looking at one tiny part of a picture, trying to figure out what it means, and then one day looking up at the rest of the picture, and then it all makes sense.

Knowing that there are in fact people that think the same way as me was really important to me, not because I am afraid of being different, but because you have like minded people you can talk to, and you aren’t trying to make the whole world see things the way you do.

I haven’t been debating this in my head enough to come to a conclusion, so I’ll let you know when I’m done to the final round. In the mean time, thoughts? I would love to know what others think about the subject.

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Smile…It confuses people

I recently started a blog with one of my very good friends. We named the blog Smile…it confuses people (as the title implies) I am by no means going to stop writing here, I am just writing at 2 places now. Because I can. And it’s fun. If you want to visit us (which would be greatly appreciated) click here.

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My new found love

I have fallen in love with travel. I always knew that I wanted to go places, but I was yet to experience the burning desire of wanting to go to different countries. But now I do and I just want to go. Anywhere, everywhere. I can thank the trip overseas for that.

The trip was amazing. And although many would assume that there would not be many differences between Australia and New Zealand, for me, there actually were quite a few.

The trip certainly was educational. I learned a lot about rugby, a lot about hot steam that comes out of the ground in Taupo, which was truly awesome, by the way, and I also discovered that bogans do not just live in Australia. There are bogans all over the world, which I found most fascinating because I honest to god thought that bogans were a special Australian breed. I was wrong.

The first time I saw wellington, I fell in love with the city, almost immediately. I think that was because it reminded me most of home. That and it is the coolest, weirdest quirky and simply amazing city.

By the end of the trip, though, I began to feel quite home sick, and I discovered that no matter how much I love to travel, I don’t think I will ever be able to live anywhere except Australia. It is home to me.

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Sitting on a suitcase- not as stupid as it sounds

I am currently sitting on top of my suit case. One may ask why I would be doing this at this particular moment, and the answer to that is simple. I am a teeny bit of trouble fitting everything into my suitcase. Shouldn’t be a big deal, I’ll figure it out, and sitting on it seems to be compressing my clothes, and is actually helping, so that’s good. So there is a tip for you. The reason that I am sitting on a suitcase is because this time tomorrow, I am going to be in another country, and would quite like to have a different set of clothes. (It is really fun saying that, you should try it sometime.)

This is my first trip out of the country (again, fun!) and I still have a lot to do, I’m not sure how I am finding time to blog, but I am. It is funny how you find time to do things that you really don’t have time to do. Anyway, I am very excited. And I wanted to tell you all about it. I shall write more about my trip, as it happens, and shall document everything until my heart is content, so there will be a few pretty pictures along with my many and varied stories.

Wish me luck at customs, my traveling companions tend to break a sweat and look very guilty and nervous, even though they aren’t guilty, and haven’t done anything wrong. It will be an interesting day.

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There is no denying it- money makes the world go around.

Oh wow oh wow oh wow. So this morning I was watching sunrise this morning, while frantically trying to get ready for school, when I saw something very surprising. My little Adelaide had made headlines on a nation wide breakfast show. This doesn’t happen often, because apparently Melbourne and Sydney are way more interesting than Adelaide, which, I guess, would be in fact true. Anyway, unfortunately, Adelaide was making headlines for all the wrong reasons.

The university of Adelaide has recently launched a new program, where you can pay $7600 to reserve your spot, and graduate high school in year 11, and start university in what would have been your final year of high school.

This is unbelievably unfair. Students should be allowed to attend university, regardless of whether their parents have $7600, and they should not get priority. We have taken several steps backwards here, and have gone back in time to when university was only an option for the rich.

So, the bottom line is, there goes everyone’s chances of getting in to Adelaide university, unless you have a large amount of money to back you up. I guess I can cross that university off the list of places I would consider attending. It is times like these that I wish that I was rich a immensely privileged. Maybe in my next lifetime.

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