Saturday, May 10, 2014

Still Alive

Welp, it's been a while, hasn't it?

I mean, I don't have much to say about the time since my last post.
I've gotten better at drawing, had two relationships, made some friends, lost some friends, moved house, made it to Grade 11 and been overseas.

Decided to go by the name Dave as much as possible. I know, it's stupid. It's just a dumb fictional character,  but yknow, whatever makes you feel more comfortable, right?
Discovered I'm into girls (not much of a surprise to be honest).


Goddamn thoughts are evading me. Seeya in two years probably.


Sunday, June 3, 2012

Speculation: Television and Childhood

On tumblr, I come across many posts regarding things that induce nostalgia and remind large amounts of people of their childhoods. Or posts about “Only 90’s kids will understand this”. Something I’ve noticed about this is that almost all of them are to do with television. This brings me to believe that every single person in my generation grew up with their faces glued to a television screen – not literally, of course.
It has been a long time since my family has owned a television and, for that reason, I tend to not quite understand all the components that apparently express my generation.
Does television really have that great an impact on our race?
I don’t particularly mind not being completely understanding of all the references. Children’s television is remarkably stupid, actually. To be honest, most television in general is, actually, quite stupid.
{My mother is trying to discourage the use of the word stupid, but I think it was easily justified in this scenario}
I’m not saying that ALL television in stupid. There is a great amount of educational or inspirational television out there. However, I’m not entirely sure what something like “Spongebob Squarepants” aims to achieve at all. But that’s a mild example.
A regularly used example would be something like “Jersey Shore” – I experienced 5 minutes of that once and I do believe I lost an IQ point or two from the exposure – or “Teen Mom”. Promoting teen pregnancy in a way that encourages it is definitely not something that humanity should be doing. Teenage girls should not try to fall pregnant merely for the “fame”. One episode on a television show is not fame.

But I appear to have gone on a tangent again…
Anyway… I just don’t understand how television forms a basis for an entire childhood.
And I’ll end there. Before I actually point out how much of a hypocrite I am because my entire life revolves around Doctor Who and Sherlock…
Oh… damn.


Friday, April 27, 2012

Old Notebook

I found an old notebook of mine. Some posts are rather recent, but some date to about 2 years ago. Seeing development in one’s personality via text on a page is interesting.
I have story ideas, thoughts, drawings and randomness. And a lot of rubbish that I have discarded and will never use.
However, going through story ideas re-inspires me. I feel like continuing some of these stories. Perhaps I should.


Monday, April 9, 2012

I’m back!

Okay, so I spent some time out of my country.
I went to Germany.
It was great.
Now I’m back to vlogging and blogging and chatting and hatting.
So, yeah. That’s good.

Stay Groovy

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

I Am

My mechanical heart does not beat,
a human heart would be obsolete.
My metal frame contains no blood,
instead, I hold an energy flood.

A human brain is not in my possession,
those were the cause of the human recession.
My head is filled with wires and cards,
and pieces of glass filed from shards.

My light filled eyes are made of glass,
they are of the highest class.
My vision will never be impaired,
and all my visions can be shared.

I don’t sleep in the way humans do,
I restore the energy my actions chew.
There is a port on my silicone embedded head,
where a plug enters and energy is fed. 

Technology is replacing the human race,
they’re being removed from the planet’s face.
I am not flesh or blood or bone,
I am an android, cold as stone.


In English, right at the beginning of the year, we had to write something that would describe any chosen person/object using poetry or paragraphs etc.
I wrote this poem about a dystopian-era android describing herself.

Best Wishes

Saturday, March 10, 2012

“Oh, you naked bitch”

So, my noted best friend, Claudia, has been visiting me on this fine evening for a lovely treat of Sherlock fangirling.
She has developed quite a fondness for the perfect being that is Benedict Cumberbatch.
At the moment of writing this, we are watching the episode entitled “A Scandal in Belgravia”, featuring the apparently subtle romantic interest of our dear Sherlock, Irene Adler. Claudia/Mop/Moriarty finds herself in a pit of anger and emotion.
I sit here listening to her rantings about how stupid Ms Adler is, simply for being in the presence of our favourite consulting detective.
And now she is calling the American agents bitches as well as The Woman.
This is quite an interesting little phenomenon of jealous fangirling I bear witness to right now.
She has desires that involve the removal of each molecule in Ms Adler’s body.
Granted, I feel similarly toward my friend and her wishes, but I have mental filters that repress the anger, while Claudia finds herself devoid of any form of filter whatsoever.
And now she is rolling around in anger as a result of the violence imposed on our beloved Sherlock.
“I am going to kill her. How. Dare. She. Slap. Benedict. Cumberbatch.”
“You naked bitch.”
“You narcissistic bitch. The poor man. The poor, beautiful man.”

My friends are awesome.
This is going to be an interesting viewing experience.
Thanks. And stuff.

Thursday, February 16, 2012


So, I began watching Sherlock.
I think I am obsessed. It is brilliant. What more can I say?
And then I found their blogs.
Yes, Sherlock and John’s actual blogs exist and can be read.
But I have a problem.
As I read through Sherlock’s blog and marvel at his amazingness, I feel the overwhelming urge to comment on the things that have been written.
Some part of my mind reaches forth unto the world to a place in which Sherlock Holmes exists.
And then I realise the horrible truth of it all.
And I weep internally.
Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are mere fictional characters of a television show.
I can’t actually say anything to them. For there is no being alive who could read my words directed at these fictional people with a correct identity to actually legitimatise my statement.
And my soul cries.
That is the curse of the fangirl. Of the one with fandoms.
And with a situation like this… I feel so incredibly close to these characters, only to have all that hope stripped away from me.
All I can say is, “Oh.”
I feel like a ghost. Shouting, trying to make myself heard, but they don’t hear me.
That is just sad.
What is my life?

Fangirl depression rant is over
Back to reading Sherlock’s blog.