The declaration of big picture wants

Me, mum and my little sister recently got back from Fiji and though I have alot to say on the matter of Fiji, at the moment I am considerably more interested in something that happened there. At some point my little sister, as all stressed out, tired seven year olds do, went berserk about something or other. In this moment of berserk-y-ness mum shared with us the theory of the big picture.
The big picture is everything. The people around you and their wants and needs, and sometimes you can only see through a tiny telescope to see what you want and can’t understand why you can’t have it.
I am not vain, but I don’t consider myself a want-y spoilt brat, but I have a habit of declaring things at the world. Example: a few days ago I discovered that I wanted and Xbox. I told my family this. Immediately my older sister began to berate me for it, as I can only guess, all older sisters do. My mother’s first response was:
“Big picture Clem” which confused me to the utmost that it eventually started to hollow out my skull with the complexity of the morals and counter morals that were helpfully connected to the thought process. What confused me was that I was looking at the big picture and while I was looking at this big picture I was thinking ‘I want an Xbox in this big picture’. After a large amount of consideration I figured that I was putting my wants above others, which when put that way sound horrible, but then again we all have to put the ‘me’ factor before someone eles’s ‘me’ factor or none of us would ever get anything done.
This all so brings us to the crime of wanting something, which can be very tearing when ethics is thrown in. I am a firm believer that wanting something is about as lawless as me turning a page of a book because I want to know what happens next. People would obviously argue that me wanting to know what happens is okay, but wanting to destroy the earth and all of its inhabitants is not okay. This is a textbook terrible argument. I have significant urges to find ways to destroy the earth quite frequently. You are not in control of what you want, you are simply in control of what you do about it.
Never condemn other people wants for they are not in control of what it is and neither are you. If you have a chance to make you happy go for it.
It is okay to want what you want.

Welcome to the fairy tale generation

I love books. When a stranger walks into my room the majority of first thoughts are either ‘What twelve year old has this many books?’ Or, coming in a close, second ‘What is that on the floor?’
I have just been browsing iBooks on my iPad that I do every month or so and what I have noticed is that most new teen fiction books are incredibly predictable.
This is your average teen fiction book.
Girl: age ranging from 15-18, pretends to be plain or ugly or both but then you see the cover with a very beautiful, white girl almost kissing a ragged young man that looks like he is. Dark, brooding, secretive and generally likely to almost get you killed and then try and get rid of you for your own good.
When I first started reading teen fiction I was about ten and totally unfazed by adult themes as I had grown up with your average higher than PG +13 movies and a very frank older sister. Most of the books I read were like this. Predictable, easy to read and generally leaving all who leave it unsatisfied thinking ‘This is literature’
The reason these book are changing is because dreams are changing, in this case the dreams of young girls. These stories are basically the twisted versions of various Disney movies. Girls my age no longer want to become prime minister or change to world. They want to marry Prince Charming, settle down and have 2.5 kids.
When I was going through primary school the seniors would go around correcting the little ones. A phase that I now have burnt into my brain and will be still there when every other bodily system crashes is ‘there are no girl or boy colours’ growing up with that I am now a, reluctant to where pink, doc Martin wearing, head phones blaring, learning interested misfit planing on building a boat, dying my hair blue, and travling around the world.
So welcome, people to the soon to be Fairy tale generation.

A strange story that some how made its way here

(Warning:this is very long, but I think it is worth at least gazing over)
Post-apocalyptic. Without meaning they sound quite pleasant, although it is nearly impossible to think of them without immediately thinking 2012 or the Mayans or at least something about an evil disaster destroying the human race and all its achievements.
I wonder what it will look like. With nobody around. No children on swings. No shoppers milling around or tried looking mothers hold babies, nor any kind strangers who do nice things for no real reason except to be nice.
As much as I don’t really mind my impending doom everyone else is running around expecting they’ll live if they get far away enough from the source.
A week ago the international government told the ever chaotic world that they are all going to die. A electric shock or pulse or something will spread over the globe in a matter of days and everyone would simply die, leaving everything intact. At first there was disbelief. but it is very hard not to believe something is true when every government or political leader in the world is sadly shaking his/her head eye downcast saying that it’s true. Then yesterday everyone went mad, started rioting and looting and doing things that spelled out that it was the end of the world and the world was really really pissed off.
now today half the population it fleeing from their homes and into the country either to die in peace and acceptance or to live out their death in the blind hope that they will die. The other half remained in their homes or went to their churches and temples to pray for forgiveness or just to be somewhere with other people.
Spines stick persistently into my back. The sky is blue the trees are green and life at this moment, despite the current doom, doesn’t actually seem that bad, of course a large sum of the people on this earth would disagree with flying colors. But I am content.
The park is deserted. Nobody is here as I stare at the sky that I am sure will fall on me at any moment. I am completely unafraid for some reason. I entertain the idea that I should be up and pledging my allegiance to some god to get into heaven before I die. To me that just doesn’t seem useful.
I am alive. For now. And for now I am going to sit in a park and wait for what ever comes at me.
Nobody knows the approximate time that it will happen all people know is that it will happen today which, might I add, is incredibly unhelpful. I sit up a little and pull myself up so that I’m leaning against a large, old tree. Next to me is my old and battered ipod. If I’m going to die I am going to die with the most appropriate some possible an that means ACDC’s Highway to hell. The government says that we should get some warning before it happens. LIke a crackling in the air or a hell of a lot of static.
I sit and sit and sit pondering the idea of what it would be like. What the silence would be like and what the road would look like.
The whole world a ghost town.
Something crackles and the whole seven billion people hold their breath. For a second I do the same but then I remind my self that I am not afraid and busy myself with putting my ear phones into my ear and pressing the play button.
THe guitar riff starts to blair and I stand, a manic grin spreading, like the electric pulse, across my face. I run to the stone path and start to stamp my feet to the rhythm. As soon as the scream lyrics start up so do I. I stamp my feet as the air crackles with static. I am no longer waiting for the world to end I am embracing simply because this is the more fun alternative. For a second I know that the sun will shine tomorrow and just because I am not there to see it does not mean that it’s beauty is lessened.
Slowly I hear someone else’s shouting voice and another pair of stomping feet on the side walk. Then another and another until the seemingly uninhabited park is a roar of end of the world appreciation.
And then the world ends. It does not end with a bang nor any other form of sound The crackling stops and the world caves in. The edges of my vision fold in to blackness and my body jerks but I keep singing and stamping, because despite all my flaws I want to die doing something.

My name is Ivy and I am not a pretty girl. I am exactly eighteen years old, two months and three days or at least I think. I have absolutely no idea what time it is now. I red hair and green eyes. I am tall and thin and not much of anything. I am simply a girl.
So you can imagine my surprise when I wake up. Something gravely is under my hand. Sand? Dirt? I have not yet opened my eyes and have no wish to. I wonder vacantly if the rest of the world is waking up feeling slightly fazed. Probably.
I think it’s night time and I can’t help but shiver. I’ll need to get up soon and find somewhere to sleep. Of course the child in me almost immediately arks up screaming “but I don’t wanna” nonetheless,I slowly open my eyes.
I have always thought that opening your eyes would always lead to discovering something and almost always that something neither wants you to discover it nor warms you heart when you do. It turns out that I am smack dab in the middle right as rain.
When I open my eyes I see the sky. It is blue. Many people who have occasionally looked up from their phones to gaze at the sky usually find it is,in fact, blue, although it sometimes decides to be a rather depressing grey. For some reason beyond my comprehension this worries me.
I feel hungry and thirsty and cold and wet and generally hard done by. It seems to me that it is incredibly unfair that I am waking up, not dead after all that.
Very, very slowly I sit up. Beside me is a pile of sand. Crisp and white and probably the type that you would find on some tropical island. I can vaguely remember a man being there. Odd.
Hungry, hungry, hungry.
I stand slowly. Where is everyone? There were at least fifteen people here. Piles of sand are scattered around everywhere. My imagination goes haywire trying to make sense of everything. But no it couldn’t be that.
I make my way slowly and some what thoughtfully out of the park finding only piles of sand to fuel my already far fetched theories.
It’s so quiet. Suspiciously like the silence I imagined after everyone was dead.
I felt hazy as I started to walk.
I walked for hours. For hours I searched the city for somebody. Anybody. I’d take my high school english teacher who gave me detention everyday.
I found myself un-dazed surrounded by sand, on a church door step. I am not a believer, nor do I believe that just because it currently seems like the entire human race has turned to sand and I am a little bit hungry that I should suddenly convert.
It does not take a fool to figure out that somehow the world had turned to sand. Well obviously not all the world. Not me and if not me that presumably other people are alive as well. Then again if its just me than there must be like, four hundred people in the world.
The gods must of thought it hilarious that the one girl unafraid of death is alive and everyone else is dead.
And then someone starts to drunkenly sing.

Words on a screen that were once in my mind

One of my many useless and quite annoying habits it that I browse memes. It’s just one of those things you do when you have nothing really worth doing. Any who, I stumbled across a site a few months ago and have been on it ever since. Not only does it give me pointless and annoying memes but also these stories and quotes for generally famous people. A favorite of mine is by Buster Guru “Reach for the stars, you won’t come close but take the exercise anyway” I have become quite a skilled person at this. The idea is to do something, knowing you will fail ,almost always horribly. To some an activity such as his would be un-endingly depressing and a self-respect disaster. For me I find it awfully liberating. It’s like I can have a crack at anything I think might be interesting without the fear of failure.
I live at three ages. Mentally I’m probably eight. Lets face it, my favorite activity would be watching Disney movies with a large amount of ice-cream. I also couldn’t be damned at what I look like beyond common decency, I don’t understand my phone, and I could not careless what my peers gossip about. I have the knowledge and understanding of a twelve year-old (Which it my actual age) and I have be taken for a fourteen-year-old teenager. I have been described as A nerd (which I took as a compliment although I don’t think it was meant to be one), A Long lost looney tunes character and something else that I am currently struggling to remember.
Hears to the human race and it’s marvelous creations. Here! Here!