Entry 4

Hey… so, it’s been a little over a month or two since I’ve last written on this blog. It’s been a while. Though, I guess it doesn’t really matter because the only person that reads these entries are me lol. What a sad life.

Life has been pretty uneventful. For starters, I’ve started getting into Wattpad a lot, well, ever since I was young I’ve been reading books on Wattpad (since 2015) but only recently did I come across the forum part to it. I’ve made some friends there and it’s honestly really fun, though, once I got swept up into all of that I kind of lost that reader connection I had with Wattpad but I’m starting to get off the forums more and read a lot more nowadays. Well, today.

I’ve also kind of figured out what I want to do. The courses I want to do, that is. Once I get to University. I’m thinking a double degree with Law and Arts. By Arts, I don’t mean visual art like Vincent Van Gogh or whatever, I mean like International relations and political science. I know what you’re thinking. It’s nerdy, I know. But to get into the job I want to get into, those are the courses that set me up perfectly.

If you didn’t know already, I want to be part of the UN. The United Nations. It’s my ultimate dream. Well actually, I’m not sure it is. All I know is that I really want to help people; I’m really passionate about humanitarian work. Whenever there’s a discussion in my friend group, or a discussion anywhere, I’m talking.

But see, I haven’t looked into it as much as I would’ve liked to. I mean, sure, I really should but it’s so hard because I can’t just search up ‘What are good places to have humanitarian work’ because that’s way too broad. I’ve also gone to see my school’s career planning people and they’re no help whatsoever. So that’s that gone.

Oh well. I’ll see where my life takes me.

Also, recent revelation, I want to live in Hawaii. Well, to be fair, I want to live anywhere but Australia. For me, Australia has never been my home. Yes, I live here, but apart from my friends and my family, there’s nothing for me here. I’m not drawn to it. So, I used to want to live in New York. But then I’ve been to New York several times and it’s just too busy for me. Too hectic. I mean, the suburb’s are nice but I can see myself getting sick of it really quickly.

Why I want to live in Hawaii? Well, my answer is kind of invalid but it’s still an answer nonetheless. There’s a Youtube family channel called The Bucketlist Family and basically they travel EVERYWHERE but they finally settled down for a house in Hawaii. The view is just amazing, I’m telling you right now, if I woke up with that view every morning I would die a happy woman. I wouldn’t need anything else for me.

They live right in front of the ocean and it’s such a crystal blue. They’ve got palm trees and a nice green lawn in front of the ocean and a hammock. In their backyard video, it showed the sunset and oh my god, it was just beautiful. It was so beautiful. I can imagine me, my husband and my children living there in the future.

It’s my ‘goal’ home. The home that once I live in, once I see that stunning view of the ocean every morning, I’ll know that I made it. My life is complete. I’m happy.

But see, I’m not sure how Hawaii really is. I mean, sure, everyone knows Hawaii to be that laid back and chill place with tropical waters and trees. Lovely. But is that what it really is? It’s like when I went to Paris. I thought it would be a lot more beautiful than it was but it really wasn’t. The Eiffel tower wasn’t as cool in person, the buildings weren’t as cool in person and the streets weren’t as cool in person. It was kind of a disappointment I guess.

Maybe just because I’ve spent my whole life swooning over Paris. Swooning over the cafes, the Eiffel tower, the shops and boy, the baguettes. I dreamed about the fashion, the bouréts, everything like that. The Eiffel tower was everywhere for me. On my ruler, on some of my shirts, on my wall. But then once I actually got to Paris, it was like, oh. The sky’s actually grey, and honestly, it’s all kind of gloomy. The shops weren’t as cool as they looked in the pictures, the streets weren’t as pristine and clean as they were in pictures. The people weren’t as stylish as they were in the pictures. I love Paris though, don’t get me wrong. I can hardly even believe I’ve been to Paris. It just sounds so weird because I feel like Paris is such an iconic place that everyone wants to visit so once you’ve actually visited, it’s like, what now?

Anyways, that was just a bit of a rant. Moving on.

I’m in a bit of a shamble. See, I got an A+ on my English assignment last year but I feel like it wasn’t my work. I basically copied my essay with my friend from Grade 12 who got good marks on it and put it into my own words. And then the presentation was just an oral so it’s easy to get good marks. But my parents and everyone were so happy that I got an A+ because usually I’m not one to get the best marks and they told everyone. So now everyone in my family is in a bit of a high and congratulating me. It’s pressure.

It’s pressure that I didn’t want. Yes, I love the attention and applause they give me. But now, I’ve got to live up to it. I’ve got to maintain it. Or else, they’ll all be so disappointed. They’ll all be so dejected. I can’t have that; I don’t want to have that.

I’ll have to try hard. But I’m lazy. That’s the thing. I’m probably the biggest procrastinator in the world and I never do SHIT. I leave things to the last minute, regret it, tell myself I’ll be organised for the rest of my life, and from the next day, I’m back to my procrastinating antics. It’s bad, I know. But I don’t know how to fix it. I literally don’t know how to be organised.

Organisation has just never been one of my strong points. Never. It’s always been rushed for me, I don’t ever remember a time I’ve been organised. Really. I can’t even imagine myself being organised. It’s just physically impossible at this point.

Whatever, though. It doesn’t really bother me. I mean, it does, but I know that if I put in hard work I can fix it.

You know what though? I don’t know if I’ve ever done something and put 100% of my hard work in it. NEVER. Well, I don’t recall anyways. I’ve never put in 100% for any of my tests and assignments for school. There’s always some part of it that’s lacking because I kind of gave up.

That’s bad. That’s a really bad quality of mine. Giving up. If I can’t do it, if I don’t want to do it, if I have no motivation to do it, I won’t do it. I’ll give up. I’ll leave it and go pursue something else just to leave that too.

It’s just one big endless cycle for me. Picking something new, do it for a while, get bored of it, it soon becomes a chore more than a fun activity, then I drop it. You get the gist. Now imagine that, and times it by 10000000. What you get is me. That’s me.

Anyway, I’ve said a lot. Typing on the keyboard weirdly gets all my thoughts out. I don’t even remember what I said honestly. Once I start writing, I’m a goner. My brain flies at unimaginable speed and I just write what comes to my mind first. It’s good I’m a touch typer lol.

See you next time!


Entry 3

Hey hoes and woes. That definitely doesn’t make sense but hey, no one looks at this blog anyway so I’m assuming no one’s going to care about that. To be honest, I do really wish someone read my blog because sometimes I get sick of talking to myself all the time. I want someone to talk to that I’m never gonna know in real life. If you’re reading this right now, please say something because I’m lonely. Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration but whatever, you get the gist.

Today I finished watching my Netflix TV show I’ve been watching for like a few days now; this Spanish show called Velvet. It’s literally so dramatic it could literally be called a fucking soap opera but jesus, I could not stop watching it. Obviously, I couldn’t understand shit but that’s what subtitles are for. Lowkey though, I know the basics of Spanish now (not to flex) and if I wanted to live in fucking Madrid right now, I could. Not that I would though. Actually, maybe I would. Idk, it seems nice? Oh well, I’m still a minor there’s really no point in talking about whether I want to live in Madrid or not. I’m getting way too carried away.

I don’t really know what to do with my life right now to be honest with you. I’ve finished my Netflix series and now I’m just a little lost. Hence, me writing in this. I think one of the big reasons why I even started this in the first place was no that I needed someone to rant to, well that too, but it was more finding a hobby. I’m not sure if a blog even counts as a hobby but it’s kind of my last resort. I’ve tried writing in Wattpad which was fun for a while until I got bored of it. Violin doesn’t count as a hobby since I’ve been doing it ever since I can remember and it’s kind of just part of my life and I don’t do any sport. See, the thing with me is that I get bored of things really easily. Like, dangerously easily. For example, Wattpad. At the start, I was writing nearly every day, updating the book like there’s no tomorrow. Then, you can guess what happened. I got bored. The updates began to diminish to once a month, once a year, then, none at all. That’s not even all of it, though. Today I told myself I would finish assembling the IKEA table my mum bought, I got 3/4 of the way through before giving up. So yeah, my attention is really fucking short. I want to change it, trust me I do, but how? How do you even change someone so deeply ingrained into me? I’m pretty sure I’ve been like that ever since I was little and I’ve never had anything I’ve put loads of effort into. There’s never been anything I’ve felt passionately enough about to put loads of effort into. That’s probably why I started this blog. I don’t feel ‘passionate’ about it per se, but I do feel calmed and relaxed writing all my thoughts out. My sound of my fingers rapidly hitting the keyboard is kind of therapeutic to me as lame as that sounds.

In the last two days I’ve also redecorated my room. Well, I wouldn’t call it redecorating because all I’ve done is replaced my bed side table with a new one and added a nice potted plant to the side of my room. It doesn’t sound like much but trust me, even that one potted plant has made my room look so much nicer. More aesthetic. It feels good having a nice room and I want to keep making it look nice. Maybe that’ll be my passion? Definitely not.

Also, this morning I woke up with a fucking lump in my armpit. Not sure why. I searched it up and it said it could either be an infection or irritation from shaving or breast cancer. So basically, it’s either nothing to worry about or everything to worry about. Fucking great. My mum booked a doctor’s appointment tomorrow and it scares me because whenever I tell my mum that something hurts, she never takes me seriously and hesitates before booking an appointment with the doctor. But, after showing her the lump, she immediately booked an appointment. She says I shouldn’t worry but I know she’s worrying. I just hope it’s not breast cancer or a fucking tumour. I’m only 15 years old for christ’s sake. I think it’s from shaving, though. I shaved like two days ago and it would make sense that the lump is there from it. Right? Maybe I’m just trying to convince myself and it’ll end up being fucking cancer. I’m worried. I’m also worried because in order to find out if it’s something wrong or just an irritation wouldn’t I have to take blood tests? Wouldn’t I have to fucking get a needle punctured into my blood? I absolutely hate needles, it’s literally one of my biggest fears. I’m one of those kids that cry during vaccinations at school so blood test? No thanks, I’ll pass.

Anyway, if I do end up having some tumour or cancer, at least I’ll know why I was never sure about my future. I have no future. My future is me lying 5 feet under the ground. As morbid as it sounds, I was never really a positive person anyway. It doesn’t really bother me to talk like that. Like just before, I was joking to my friends about my will.

See, the thing is that I might seem really light hearted to a lot of people, heck, maybe even everyone who know me but really, I’m worrying a lot inside. I don’t like to show it to anyone just because there’s this status quo about me being the ‘class clown’ and whatever and as much as I hate being tied down to my reputation, I don’t like showing people the other side of me. The more sensitive and self conscious side. The compassionate and sad side. So, I just write all of it here, on this blog.

I’m not really sure what else to write, to be honest. Maybe the next entry I write on here will be my bucket list before I die because I was diagnosed with cancer. Or maybe it’ll just be the medication I need to take to get rid of the lump caused merely by my shaving. Oh well, life is life.

See you next time.

Entry 2

Hey. So, I think its been a week, maybe? Not sure. I’m free now! Well, in terms of school that is. I’ve finished all my exams and I’m diving head on into the holidays. Fuck yeah.

Let me update you guys, though.

Two days ago was my last day of term 1; it was also, unfortunately, my school’s cross country carnival which sucks ass if you can’t run. Me. I can’t run. Well obviously I can run but does that make me good at it? Fuck no. In the first 100 meters I was already dying and wanting to go home. I ended up walking the rest of the way with my friends though, which made it a lot better.

Anyway, after that, I went to Southbank with three of my friends, Kate, Viktoria and Amal. Man, it was so fun. Do you know what the weird thing is though? I felt weird that whole day – like, I don’t really know how to describe it. It was definitely a good weird, if that makes sense though. It all started when we went to sit down on the grass area near the river that flows in the middle of the city I live in which I’m not going to name (privacy reasons). I put the radio on and we were just chilling, chatting and thinking. It was like something straight out of a movie. Four teenagers laughing with the radio in the background, skipping stones into the river. If it was a Wattpad book I bet it would go a little like this:

It’s a Friday afternoon, the evening of the day school finished. Four teenagers loudly laughed, excitement bubbling in their veins. After all, it was practically the holidays; there was so much to do, so much freedom. As they’re looking around at their surroundings, one of them sighs, “Guys, I’m so stressed about the future… I know I shouldn’t be but like, I am, you know?” They responded by telling her not to worry, one of them even told her to shut up, in a teasing manner of course. The girl laughed happily, her worries being soon forgotten. As they looked at the brown dirty river in front of them, it was silent for a moment. It was calming, serene and tranquil. They were surrounded by each other, after all, they were happy. With the radio playing in the background, they talk about how cliché the whole thing is. She says, “Imagine we’re in our own movie… this is the very beginning of it. I mean, come on, look how cliché this whole fucking thing is! Staring out at the river, good music playing, sitting in a grassy field, us. It’s got to be a movie.” Everyone stared at her at first as if thinking ‘this bitch…’, but then, they agreed. They shared a laugh at how absurd they were being and then one of them stood up, “Who wants to skip rocks?” And, they did just that. Skipping rocks, getting their hands muddy, tripping when standing on the unstable rocks on the shore. They were happy. And then…

It doesn’t end there, of course. But, that was the highlight of my day. Obviously, the story is a bit exaggerated but it’s from true events and I think it was one of the best days of my month.

I don’t really know what else to write, I kind of want to get back to my Netflix TV show… I’m watching some Spanish TV show called ‘Velvet’, it’s kind of getting boring but hey, if I don’t finish it I would be wasting the past week of me watching it.

I’ll talk to you when I talk to you, stranger. Until next time.

Entry 1

Woah, this is kind of scary. Well, I guess this is it; I’m finally doing this. Creating my own blog, I mean. It’s intimidating, you know, I’m going to be pouring all my thoughts into this blog and everyone reading it will know the deep dark secrets that I hide.

Just kidding.

I don’t really have any secrets, per se, but I do have thoughts that torment me every day. I’m not really sure if I should get right into it or if I should, you know, chillax a bit before dragging you all into my batshit boring life lol. Sorry for the cussing, I’m kind of a cussing gal. Don’t worry though, if you’re one of those (no offence) annoying people that gasp whenever someone swears, I’ll filter myself as much as I can while typing. It probably won’t do any good but hey, a girl can try.

Let me give you guys a proper introduction. My name is Hannah and no, I’m not going to put my last name in this blog just because I don’t want to be kidnapped while walking home from school because I gave too much information online. It’s not a personal thing, I know a lot of you are probably genuine nice people but stranger danger is a real thing folks and I’m not really looking forward to having my face plastered on a newspaper with the title ‘MISSING PERSON’. Yeah, definitely not something I want to experience ever. Shit, sorry, I’ve kind of just realised that I’ve rambled way too much about that, kind of a morbid subject to be ranting about, though. Awkward.

Also, just a side note, I’m not going to be deleting anything I write, even if it doesn’t make sense at all. This is just because I made this blog for rambling, you know? In real life, I filter myself and I don’t tell specific things because, well obviously, I can’t. My pride doesn’t really let me. So yeah, everything I write is raw and to the bone which is kind of scary thinking about it now. Oh well, yolo right?

So, here it is. I’ve been in a depressed mood lately and I’m not really sure why. I guess some of it could be to do with my period but also, I think some of it has to do with not doing anything. I’m nearing towards my school holidays so I don’t really have any homework, tests to study for or assessments to stress over. I’m kind of just by myself, overthinking, overthinking and overthinking again. This isn’t really healthy for me and I know that, trust me, but I can’t really help it. I don’t really have anything else to do. My friends still all have exams so hanging out with them is out. Well, that’s basically all that I would do on the holidays, so yeah, I’m feeling like a loner, not going to lie.

Of course, I do have friends, though. I have many and I’d like to say I’m a well liked person in the grade but no matter how many friends someone has, I think everyone always feels lonely one time or another in their life. For some people, it’s rarer but for other people, it’s normal. For me, I think I’m in the middle. I feel lonely not because of the lack of people that care about me, but because I just feel like no one understands me which sounds so fucking cliché and all ‘goth-teen’ now that I read it over but I can’t think of a more straightforward way to say it. Wait, you know what? Fuck it. I shouldn’t have to act all ashamed and bashful when I use terms remotely deemed ‘mainstream’ and ‘cringey’, I’m so sick of society’s stigma’s that when people use words that are mainstream, they are immediately deemed trying way too hard to fit in. The amount of times people have said that to me when I’ve used phrases like ‘spill the tea’ or ‘wig snatched’ is fucking annoying. I don’t really know why I’m getting so riled up about it to be honest, I guess I always have been but never acknowledged it.

That’s like a lot of my thoughts. No matter how poisonous they are to me, I push it down. When I was younger, I don’t really remember having someone to tell everything to, I don’t think. I’ve never been one of those kids that told their parents everything, either. Thinking about it now, I don’t think I actually tell my parents anything that I think personally about – it’s more just talking about random things with them. I find it hard to open up to them, especially my mum because as much as I love her, she always finds a way to make it my fault. Like once, I remember I had this big fight with my best friend in grade 6. I was hurt and sad and I was young. I had never really experienced something like this before. I told my mum everything in tears and I remember her saying that she was sure that I was exaggerating it because obviously, the friend (who I am not going to name) is really nice when my mum met her, therefore, she couldn’t have possibly said all those mean things to me. It’s complete bullshit and I’m kind of just realising this now how detrimental that’s been to my relationship with my mum in terms of being honest with her. Oh well, although I have had urges to just tell my mum everything going on in my life but they were never intense, you know? I’ve lived without talking to my parents about everything up to now so why should it change? My siblings don’t really tell my parents anything either so at least I know I’m not the only one that feels this way or whatever.

Out of all my friends, though, my friend called Anjana is the friend that I would call my number one. My best friend. I’ve confided in her about things that I’ve never told anyone else and fuck, I feel comfortable just ranting to her. I’ve never really felt comfortable ranting to anyone, I’m always fidgeting and being awkward, wanting to get the hell out of there and that situation.

Anjana is in my grade (grade 11) and we became friends 3 years ago, I think. Yeah, 3 years ago in grade 8. I don’t really remember becoming friends, but I do remember instantly feeling comfortable. There was no awkward tension that I’ve had with so many other friends when I first get to know them, there was just this mutual understanding for one another. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel intimidated by her. Fuck, this will sound so bad on my end but Anjana isn’t exactly cool. She doesn’t have many friends and she normally sits by herself at lunchtimes. I always invite her to sit with me and my group but she’s had bad blood with a few of them before and she always tells me that she’d rather die which is dramatic lol. Let me explain myself, though. I promise I’m not an asshole it’s just that when I’m around people that I think are cooler than me, more popular, they’re more intimidating. I filter myself a lot more and I tend to come off as someone that isn’t who I really am. I change myself to make them like me which is horrible and I know, trust me I know. I don’t know what to do about it though, I’m guessing it’ll stop after high school because after high school, no one gives a shit about popularity and their following on instagram or whatever. It’s the real world, there’s money to care about, families to feed. Anyway, I’m getting side tracked. Anjana isn’t cool. A lot of people think she’s weird, laugh at her and make fun of her and I always try to tell her that it’s not right, that this behaviour isn’t normal and that she shouldn’t normalise it. She never listens though. I don’t think she really cares about them which I really admire. See, Anjana is someone that I’ll never be. Disregarding social media, popularity, amount of friends, she’ll always be cooler than me. She doesn’t give two fucks about what people say and what people do, all she cares about are the people closest to her.

I wish I was more like her. Anjana is one of those friends that are rare to come across. She’s smart getting all A’s, well, she’s not athletic but she has this thing in her personality which makes you feel comfortable. I dedicate every Friday lunch to sit with her and in those Friday lunches, we talk about everything. Literally, everything. The future, the past, the present. If we’ll still be friends in 10 years, hell, if we’ll have kids in 10 years. If we’ll marry rich husbands and travel the world without working for a single cent, or if we’ll work our asses off and never marry because we’re too busy getting that bread. Ew, did I really say that? Ignore that, fuck, that’s embarrassing.

Anyway, as I was saying, Anjana and I have a friendship that I don’t think I’ll ever come across again in my life. We have mutual respect for another, knowing when the other is down or knowing when they’re over the moon. We understand each other and we can relate in a lot of ways.

Enough about Anjana, though. If she reads this she would never stop teasing me about it. No thanks. Let’s talk about the future; what I want to do.

I’ve mentioned this already but I’m 15 years old and I’m confused. Is it a mid life crisis that came too early? Probably. See, I have no idea what I want to do. First it was music because I’ve been playing the violin since I was three and my mum used to be a violinist and my grandma used to run a conservatorium when my mum was young so I guess I kind of felt like I was obliged to go into the music field because playing the violin and learning music is basically in my blood. Almost like an imprint. My dad plays the piano, my mum plays the violin, my older brother plays the cello and my younger brother plays the piano and violin. My whole house was a practice room. Concertos playing, passages and hard runs practiced slowly, scales being played over and over again and the agonising tuning of the instruments. No one in my family really practiced that often but when they did, it was a mad house.

Anyway, as I was saying, I thought music was it but then I figured I could do a lot more with my life than slowly rotting in a room practicing concertos I don’t really enjoy and teaching bratty kids. Sorry in advance to all the teachers out there, it’s not personal I swear. Anyway, I kind of came to realise that I used music as a way to get out of Australia. See, if I got a scholarship to a music university in America or even the UK, I would be free. That’s what I thought anyway. When I’m independent, I do want to live anywhere but Australia. For me, it’s bland. There’s nothing for me other than my friends and my family. America would be better. Yeah, America is my dream. When I have children, if I have children, that’s where I want them to grow up. I know it’s stupid because of all the Trump shit happening right now but hopefully when my kids are around, he’ll be long gone out of office.

I think that’s all from me for now, I don’t know how often I’ll write again but with the holidays, I think it’ll more a few times a week. Don’t keep my word on it though, I’m always shit at keeping promises.

See you later and thanks for reading up to here, if you did. Either way, thanks for clicking on this lol. Until next time.

The Journey Begins

Hey, I’m bored and unsatisfied. Here is where the start of a hopefully long lasting blog about my life will commence – now, whether or not I continue this is a mystery but who knows, maybe this will be my thing. 

My name is Hannah and I am currently 15 years old and I live in Australia. No, I don’t ride kangaroos to school and no, I’m not a complete bogan. I’ve been struggling a lot lately in where to put all my thoughts that build up inside me, whether to tell someone or to dismiss them totally, letting them cook inside for the rest of my life. But, I decided I would make a blog about my boring and to be honest, mediocre life. So, here it is, folks. Welcome.