Beautiful: adj. pleasing to the eye or mind especially through beauty or charm.

Did you ever just want to be beautiful? For just one night, one hour, or even one minute, to be absolutely gorgeous and feel like you looked a million dollars? I did. For just one night, I wanted to be beautiful. Of course beauty isn't solely about aesthetics - I am a true believer in the saying 'Beauty isn't skin deep' and genuinely think that personality has a significant influence on one's attractiveness. The only problem right now is that I feel I possess neither - I could not detest myself more: my selfishness, laziness, self-centredness, stupidity, superficiality, lack of consideration, lack of courage, negativity, self-pity, conformity, weakness and finally for being so effing judgemental. And I'm sure I've missed something. In short, neither personality nor looks is on my side.

So for one night I just wanted to be beautiful. Perhaps not even for other people to perceive so, but for myself to. I wanted to be able to love myself for one stupid little night. To look back at photos and say, 'Look, you are beautiful'.

Just. One. Night.

Was this too much to ask?

Apparently so.

Untitled

All I want more than anything right now is to just say everything. I think perhaps I feel like this will relieve the pain, but at the same time I am not foolish enough to believe that it really will. I just want someone to know everything, but I don't even know if I can express it. I guess this is just a brief synopsis. I wish someone could see or understand how much it really hurts inside. How much I am really struggling under a mountain of stress and expectation. How lost I feel in a huge maze of confusion. I wish someone could spend just a moment inside my mind to see what I truly think of myself, of the world, and of life. How pointless it all seems, how worthless I feel and how hopeless I feel for the future. My body feels like lead and any action, physical or mental, feels like a drain of energy I just don't have. I wish someone could see that this is nothing new... that this has been over 4 years of feeling like this, on and off, and I just want it to stop. I wish someone knew how alone I feel even in the company of friends, and how much I fear being alone because I don't want to be trapped with my thoughts. I wish there wasn't such a gap between the exhiliration of company and the loneliness of being by myself. I wish I could be happy with who and what I am, instead of resenting everything I have become. I wish I could live up to the ideals that I preach so adamently - but instead I live in the past and the future, never the present, and let life just pass me by. I am scared that one day I will look back and wonder what I did with my life, because I know this is inevitable. I wish I felt I had control over these stupid things. I wish I could stop wishing and start living. I want everyone to be able to see the pain, yet at the same time I spend most of my energy concealing it from others - it is only as I begin to feel more sick and tired that it has begun to creep into others' attention because I can no longer hide it. I hate myself for that too. I wish you could see how much I fear the future. I wish you could see how much I resent myself for being exactly who I am, or perhaps for being exactly who I am not. I wish someone could see just how much I don't fucking care anymore - that I have lost every piece of achievement that I once had and every inch of success that I once was. That there is no longer any remnant of motivation left in me. I wish you could see the tears that well in my eyes when I realise I have to get up and face another day. I wish the internal pain was external - that someone could see the way my insides are worn away beyond repair. I wish someone knew just how much I no longer want to be here, and how often and realistically I ponder this reality. I wish I believed I wasn't beyond saving, but I am ready to give up. I think the fear of continuing to live is greater than that of dying; it simply seems to be a decision of the better of two evils. But I have uttered these words to myself so many times that it is just an empty threat, perhaps that is also what scares me.. even after this, life will go on, unchanged. It always has. After all, now everyone can see... why does it still hurt so much?

Sedecim

Someone once told me that self-esteem can be likened to a cup. There are moments in our lives where people say things that make us feel appreciated, loved, worthy and brilliant - filling our cup right up to the brim until we are almost overflowing with positive self-regard and self-love. On the other hand, sometimes there are times when people suck out our cup's contents with derogatory remarks or unkind comments that make us feel worthless. However, despite these ebs and flows, the cup maintains a sort of dynamic equilibrium, whereby the level may drop or rise occasionally, but generally returns to a constant point - a default level of self-esteem.

The analogy continues.

The danger is when there is a hole in the cup. When this happens, that default level of self-esteem is destroyed as the contents of the cup are continually lost to the environment. The only way for this person to sustain any level of self-acceptance is to have a constant flow entering their cup to compensate its rapidly diminishing contents. But people don't tell you you're brilliant all the time, because they assume that you already know that. People don't repeatedly tell you that you're fantastic, because it isn't deemed necessary - because you shouldn't need to be perpetually told.

People cannot see and do not understand why you fail to sustain that state of equilibrium - that default level of self-esteem.

The key to changing this is to fill up that hole: take those pieces of meaning that you have found here or there, and plug it up; collect the evidence that you are okay and place them in that hole; reflect on what you are worth and realise that you are someone special. The only problem is, this is much easier said than done; you are in control, only it rarely ever feels like that.

Oh precious time, where did you go?

Oh precious time, where did you go?
I do not know.
The hands no longer tick so slow.
Arrested, life has lost its flow.

Oppressed beneath this heavy snow
Lie dreams and hopes that will not grow.
Frozen, stunted years ago.
They'll never rise, they'll never show.

A light of hope ceases to glow.

Searching, waiting.
High and low.
To and fro.
Head to toe.

The crying crow, the destined woe, the fatal blow.
I ask myself: How long to go?
To tell the truth, I do not know.

The Road Not Taken

Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Let it go. Let it out...

Untitled

I never planned to be alone.

I don't think anyone ever plans to be alone.

In the end, it's one of those things

That just...

Happen.

Quindecim

Out of control. To gain control. Controllability. In control. Lose control. Control oneself. Birth control. Control panel. To have control over. Locus of control. To take control. Control group. Remote control. Control freak.

Do you ever feel overwhelmed by an inability to control what is happening around you? The things that occur in your life, your environment, and even your own mind, all seem to become externally determined by forces you have no control over. In life, there are things in life that we can control, and there are things that we cannot. What is important, is that we utilise the things that we do have control over to help ourselves deal with the things over which we hold little power. I am told time and time again that we are in control of ourselves - our actions, our thoughts and our feelings, and these factors are all interelated. However I feel that it is one thing to say we always have control, but it is an entirely different thing to truly believe it or feel empowered by this ability.

What happens when we feel we can't control what is happening? We panic, we become frightened and above all, we feel utterly powerless. For me, the tears well up in my eyes, a lump is formed at the back of my throat and I want nothing more than to simply give up. When we are coping, we believe in our ability to handle a situation, confident that our actions will elicit a positive outcome. When we are hopeless, we lead ourselves to believe that any action we take will have a negative consequence. But when we are helpless, this is the biggest danger of all; when we are helpless, we feel that no matter how hard we try or how longingly we wish, our actions have no affect on our circumstances.

When we talk about control, planning and the future, people can be broken down into two categories - people who focus on the details, and those who focus on the big picture. Where people take an overall view, they concentrate on what they want as the end result and are good at planning and deciding how they want things to turn out, but often fail to see the small details along the way. When these people are struck by unexpected changes, their idealistic plans become tainted, damaged or destroyed.

When we live too far ahead in the future and decide how things should be, the implications are that, if things do not turn out the way we hoped or planned, we become bitterly disappointed, feeling like something has been taken away from us, despite the fact that we never possessed it in the first place. When we talk about things we can control, the fundamentals are ourselves and the present moment. Once we take control of these things, then we can begin to shape the world around us.

Insignificant: adj. Having little or no meaning. (Oct. 07)

Is it right that someone should feel so insignificant?
A grain of sand on the beach,
A drop of water in the ocean,
A star in the night sky.
One of many, not noticed by the onlooker
Only singled out for its weaknesses
But never its strengths.
Just waiting for someone to notice it.
Appreciate it.
A dull star in the night sky is never noticed when compared to the luminescent moon,
Why should I go on when I am the smallest star among so many?

My dear Leunig...

I cannot think of many things worse than having the most amazing friends in the world, yet still feeling alone.

The Little Things...

Inspired by Frank's latest note...

"Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things." A work in progress.

Once when I was talking with someone about my unsuccessful and frustrating search for meaning, they told me that perhaps I was looking for something too big. Maybe meaning comes from lots of little things, rather than one, big, profound discovery.

one Going for runs while listening to music.
two Sitting on the front porch at night time breathing in the air.
three Playing piano and singing along.
four Sitting in the sun listening to music.
five Taking the dog for a walk down to the park.
six Snuggling up on the coach watching soppy romance movies.
seven Doing homework on a cold day, drinking a hot cup of Green Tea.
eight The sound of rain on my skylight at nighttime.
nine When the moon is perfectly above my skylight and it shines onto my bed at night.
ten Bright city lights on a dark night.
eleven Inspirational quotes.
twelve Being able to rejoice in other people's happiness.
thirteen Eating pizza at school on weekends with the best of friends.
fourteen Ice cream, cookies and creme brulee chocolate - all mixed in one.
fifteen The wind.
sixteen When your iPod plays your favourite song on shuffle.
seventeen A beautiful view - city lights, nature, anything..
eighteen Laughing until your stomach muscles hurt.
nineteen Waking up and realising it's the weekend.
twenty Watching / listening to amazing pianists play piano.
twenty-one Running in the rain.
twenty-two A tidy bedroom.
twenty-three Singing in the shower.
twenty-four Making other people smile.
twenty-five Ticking off something on your to-do list.
twenty-six Staying up all night talking.
twenty-seven Picnics.
twenty-eight Playing a good game of netball.
twenty-nine Dancing to music in shop changerooms.
thirty Sleepovers
thirty-one In Titanic, whenever "My Heart Will Go On" starts playing..
thirty-two Going to bed and falling asleep straight away.
thirty-three The sound the computer makes when you pull out a USB

Quattuordecim

I once knew someone who, when asked what their biggest motivation was, replied that it came from having people not believe in them - in short, to be told that they couldn't do something. After all, what greater incentive is there than to prove someone wrong? I think as humans - often stubborn and self-righteous creatures, as I know I am - we derive some sort of pleasure in knowing that we are right, proving other people wrong, and more than anything, achieving what was once believed to be impossible. I think breaking boundaries has to be one of the most fundamental bases of advancement and breakthroughs; being innovative and courageous enough to not just test limits, but step outside and beyond them. These limits are set for us by other people when they tell us that we are not capable of things, yet for the greatest people I have met in my life so far, these only set a benchmark which must be achieved and surpassed.

I personally recall two exemplary examples of this:

Dan Ryan dreamed to become one of the best male netballers that the game has ever seen. Despite making his first Victorian team around the age of 14, he was told that he was too short and would never make a national team as a goaler. With a desire to follow a dream and prove the selectors wrong, this netballer went on to captain Australia, never once being played outside the position of goal attack, all the time thinking "Don't tell me what i cant do, let me show you what i can do".

Rufus Black dreamed to study at Oxford University, only to be told in Year 9 that his dyslexia was so bad that he wouldn't even pass his final Year 12 exams. A little over a decade later the only criticism in the Oxford University examiners report on his doctorate was “that there were a few more spellings mistakes than usual”. What did he say? "Don’t let anyone ever tell you you can’t".

These stories provide me with inspiration beyond belief, but as I have considered my own life, I find myself, for the majority of the time, at the opposite end of the spectrum. Highly able, loaded with potential, and burdened with a superfluity of expectation. Whereas these individuals found themselves confronted by external lack of belief, I find myself straining under and overwhelming forcefield of pressure from every direction. Even if no-one says anything, I can feel it. Even if no-one thinks anything, I do. There is no escaping - it is outside me and within me. I have a wealth of people that believe in me, but I am beginning to think that perhaps that is more detrimental than having no one believe in you at all. If there is no belief, all you can do is exceed expectations. If people expect greatness from you, surely you are destined to fall short...

A reflection of myself or society? (Feb. 09)

I look in the mirror

And don’t recognise the person staring back at me
At least I don’t want to.

I can’t tell
What is real
And what is not.
My eyes work

But my mind doesn’t

The image changes
From minute to minute

Day to day

Week to week

One day is fat

And one day is skinny

Yet there is no physical difference
Between these two figures

Just in my mind

I can’t see myself
I don’t know myself
My mind is the obstacle

I will never be skinny,

Happy.

Beginning to live...

As quickly as it began, it now draws itself to a close. Two followers, 23 posts and a single month later, I have come to the realisation that to "suck the marrow out of life" means living it and engaging in the world, rather than mere rhetoric about the ebbs and flows of life. How can one seize the day while typing into a computer, onto a blog that nobody reads? Without trying to sound excessively ignorant, I am simply too young to be wasting these precious times pondering questions beyond my years. Perhaps in time I will be back, but for now, I cannot live whilst being stuck inside my own head with my own thoughts. I should be out interacting with the world, enjoying the company of friends and family, learning the lessons of life and discovering who I am and what my place is in the world.

Thank you for reading - maybe I will be back one day, but as long as I am not writing, I plan to be actively living in the real world rather than passively succumbing to the luring trap of a blog spot.

"They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? - - Carpe - - hear it? - - Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary."
John Keating, Dead Poets Society

Tredecim

Did you ever blame people for not hearing your inaudible cries?
For not seeing your invisible signs?
For not grabbing onto a hand you didn't reach out?
I did.
I still do.
Just because you couldn't hear, see or hold me
Did you ever consider, that perhaps
You simply weren't standing close enough?

The real danger...

The real danger that comes from loneliness is your mind being left alone, your thoughts crystallize. You can draw yourself farther and farther down the rabbit hole, strange thoughts appear and can soon become the norm. This can be good in a way, you can find out what you believe and think without the influence of “society”, you can start to question basic assumptions about how people operate. You can, if you observe others, learn a lot. However... your mind tends to grow darker. As socially evolved animals we crave some sort of social stimulation, though the amount differs between individuals.

...Perhaps there’s such a thing as too much socialization, too much mask wearing because after all with the majority of people we have to wear some sort of mask. Sure it can be extremely thin at times but its still there, weighing on the soul like a lead elephant.

SJ Smith

How would you react if someone told you...

"Embrace the complete void between illusion and reality"

"Accept that life isnt all that is promised"

"Yes life sucks, but it sucks less when you stop comparing it to fiction"

Duodecim

Among so many different philosophies, I think somewhere in the middle of these blurred and uncertain ideals, the meaning of our lives is centred around making a difference. We speak of having fun and seizing the day, no doubt admirable and essential values... but in the bigger picture, what is the point of ever having been if you will not be remembered? If you had no impact? If your existence made no difference?

What difference will I make? We look at the world around us and it is hard not to be overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness, when we feel the world is so destined to tragedy, unfairness and cruelty - with undeniable evidence of global warming, warfare and social injustices - to a point where it feels like there is no tangible solution. In a world of 6.6 million people, who am to think I can make any significant difference? A single fish in the sea... a needle in a haystack... as I stop, stand back and observe, the world continues on around me, unaffected...

Maybe it is too much to expect we can change the world: but does it matter if we make a difference in many lives or just one life? Maybe it doesn't. To change the life of one person - that is significant. Think about someone who has changed your life and how much that means to you. One or many lives... it all counts and it is all important.

So how do we make a difference in someone else's life? Someone once told me that the key is to be yourself. Let people be inspired by who you are. Everyone is different, everyone views the world differently and everyone has unique needs. Someone needs you just the way you are, so let yourself shine: perhaps it is possible to inspire others by simply being you. I think my biggest fear is that perhaps, it is not.

You made a world of difference to my life, so why couldn't I affect yours?

Yet even if I did make a difference in just one life, it would never be enough. I would want more - to affect two, three, four lives. To affect one hundred lives. To change the world. And again, just as she nears achievement, the perfectionist pushes her goals further out of reach. But for now, this is enough, because it must be... bigger and better things lie ahead...

Look me in the eye...

Look me in the eye.
It's okay if you're scared.
So am I.
But we're scared for different reasons.
I'm scared of what I won't become.
And you're scared of what I could become.
Look at me.
I won't let myself end where I started.
I won't let myself finish where I began.
I know what is within me, even if you can't see it yet.
Look me in the eyes.
I have something more important than courage.
I have patience.
I will become what I know I am.
Michael Jordan

I went to the woods...

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms...
Henry David Thoreau

Undecim

It seems that when we are faced with feelings of despair we often find ourselves asking "What happened to me?", yet fail to look beyond and wonder "Who was I in the first place?". It is only when we are wondering what it was that happened to us to make things turn out the way they did that we suddenly realise that we never actually knew ourselves in the first place. Then, before we are even aware of it, we are entering a world of adulthood whereby we are forced to make decisions that impact our futures so profoundly, yet do not have sufficient knowledge of ourselves to make such informed decisions. How can we possibly be expected to choose a career based on what we enjoy when this is the very question that undermines our existence? It seems to be that the simplest questions are the hardest to answer: what do I really love? Sport, cooking, friends, nature, learning... these are admirable recreations, but what is it that draws the distinction between pastimes and passions? Some things feel like they will never get old or lose their novelity - some things feel like they are meant to be forever. So when did these things stop being fun? When did analysis and criticism become the centre of these activities, above pure enjoyment. Has the world not turned on its head when the one thing that once made you smile is now the thing that tears everything else to pieces? When the tears of laughter and joy became tears of genuine despair, frustration and hopelessness? Although I don't believe that our sole purpose in life is as frivolous as to simply 'have fun', I do believe that being happy and helping others to be happy does comprise a significant part of our existence. But if we are as self-ignorant as to not even know our true passions - what hope is there for us then?

Decem

Life is really just one big round circle. A vicious cycle, whereby things only get worse until you cannot cope, then get better until you are convinced that they will be okay, and then it lures you back until you spiral back to where you began. The displacement equals zero. I cannot decide whether to hope is to live, or whether hope is simply the game of the fool. I feel like I am just running continuously into a brick wall, trying without success until I no longer have the energy to keep trying. Fatigue sweeps over me like disease and I feel like I am losing an eternal battle. Maybe once I believed that sleep cures all things, but I am rapidly losing confidence in the ability of sleep to arrest this perpetual cycle of life.

Novem

Talk's cheap. You could have all the good intentions in the world, but what does it matter if they eventuate to nothing? I think we get very caught up in everything that should or could be, but sometimes forget to put in the effort to make these dreams become realities. I feel like every day of my life serves to exemplify this ideal. Sometimes I wonder, how many of us will ever truly reach our potential? And how many of us will look back in anger and regret realising that we never put in the effort to make the most of ourselves? Sometimes it feels like I am putting too much trust in hoping things will be okay, rather than doing something to ensure that they will be. When and why did I stop trying? Caring? It may seem like some sort of consolation to tell yourself that you could achieve great things, but what's point if you can't put it into action? An ENTER score, a premiership, a fundraiser or some brilliant breakthrough. If you say you can, why don't you just do it? Talk's cheap until you put it into action.

Octo

In the broad spectrum of human emotion, nothing is as destructive as the emotion of jealousy. Consider anger and upset; these emotions, although undesireable, are not maladaptive. There is no harm in visiting that dark place every now and again or throwing a fist through the air or into a pillow - not only are these normal human experiences, but they are fundamental to our development and essential to being human. Carl Jung once stated, "Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness; the word 'happy' would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness". However, unlike the emotions of anger and sadness, jealousy serves no purpose. Jealousy is no more adaptive or constructive than it is logical; it renders no positive outcomes and is built upon no rational foundation, serving only to deplete our spirits and crush our self-esteem. Wanting what someone else has only makes us more dissatisfied with what we already possess, and brings us no closer to attaining whatever that magical object or characteristic is. Jealousy undermines everything that we already are, ignoring all the things that make us special and unique; the eyes of jealousy make us blind to ourselves. We cannot possess that which belongs to other people, so why wish to be in someone else's shoes, own someone else's possessions or attain someone elses gifts? And what's to say they don't envy something that you have? We were not made to be someone else, and we cannot be someone else; there is no logic that supports this distressing emotion. In the end, all we can do is be the best version of us that we can possibly be.

Septem

We don't have to look further than literature, film and everyday life to realise the potential of a mask to unleash the inner human spirit and empower those that behold it. Romeo Montague dons a mask at the Capulet's masquerade ball, which ultimately leads him to the love of his life. Batman adorns the mask of a bat to instill fear in the enemy and preserve his identity while protecting society. The Wesley lion's mask allows the person hiding behind it to act as jovial as they wish without having judgement passed upon them. Masks have the power to release everything that we would otherwise be too scared or embarrassed to reveal; however, when our identity is concealed, our dignity is preserved. But what happens if a mask serves not to reveal the inner human spirit, but instead hide it? What happens when exactly who we are at the very core of our being is hidden away from even those that we love most, and all that remains to be seen is a superficial mask by which one can be judged? If this mask hides your tears, your flaws, your weaknesses and your pain, why are you wearing it? To protect yourself or to protect other people? A mask of perfection does not play a beneficial role in the long run, but merely becomes a default by which other people judge you; it becomes your reputation. However, the fact that people pass a judgement based on perfection no longer strengthens or lifts you, but only makes you feel more like people don't understand. The mask becomes a barrier between you and those people that should be able to empathise the most, and then only serves to make you feel more alone. But no one can wear a mask forever; as time passes, the mask breaks down - whether by choice or inevitably by the crumbling base upon which it is built. People begin to realise that you aren't that perfect, things aren't so easy, and you aren't really that much of an inspiration. It frightens you, because people become closer to seeing the truth, but by this stage, not even you know what the truth is. Mask or no mask, it doesn't matter anymore; I have lost my true identity.

Sex

Things don't actually get worse. We just grow up. And as we grow up we see that the world, in many ways, is not quite as beautiful or simple as we'd always pictured it. Not everything is about grades or impressions anymore; there seems to be things of greater importance than getting your maths homework done, or even getting a phenomenal ENTER score. Where everything seems black sometimes, perhaps it isn't black at all - perhaps, instead, it is merely an illusion created by the confusion of trying to comprehend all the things that were, that are and that could be. Trying to find our place in this world. But when it all becomes too much suddenly we are blind and can no longer see anything at all because of this overload of inarticulate jibberish. At the age of 17 the world we live in is still that of a child; we are still in the same routine that we were 12 years ago... wake up, go to school, go home, do homework, watch tv, sleep. Sure there may be some minor alterations along the way: learning music, playing sport, joining debating, playing sport, seeing friends and playing more sport. But even then, the repetition of a sport that you have been playing since the age of 9 hardly seems like progress from a child's world to that of an adult - perhaps that is the distinction between passions and simple pass-times though. We begin to ask questions that stretch beyond anything we can learn in school, and suddenly school becomes something that doesn't extend us, but limits us. We are yearning to break free of this perpetual routine, yet we cannot. We have to wait, and in the meantime, enjoy what it means to be 17. If we get too caught up in problems and questions that we do not yet possess the skills or tools to answer, then ultimately we are throwing away some of our most precious years; years that we will never get back. So why do it? I wonder that every day.

Life isn't all hehe haha.

When we lost our habitual positive attitude and juvenile enthusiasm, we didn't really lose them, we just moved above and beyond them. One day, however, on the journey to answering all these questions, it will come back.

Quinque

I don't know if I can write this like all my other notes. There is no desire for it to be perfect or even good. I have not the energy to craft words in creative sentences or poetic resonations. This is raw; straight from my heart and from my mind. When I play netball it only ever seems that you are able to give one hundred percent when your team is down or you are reaching the dying seconds of the game. How relatable this is to life, that it isn't until the end is near and real that we truly appreciate its beauty; that we try our best to make the most of it. Of course it isn't fair to make a generalisation - there lives a significant population that adopt a carefree and vital attitude. What hurts the most is to see these people diagnosed with terminal illness, because honestly, they already know how to live. They live every day as if it was their last anyway. These are not the people that need to be reminded or subjected to this reality. I do not naively wish such misfortune upon myself, but perhaps what I do hope for is some sort of slap in the face to say that this won't last forever. Life won't last forever. And being 17 certainly won't last forever. You only get one shot at a lot of things and it almost seems like there is pressure to enjoy everything while it lasts. So perhaps it is not really that suprising that a sense of guilt is evoked when you don't. So often we are reminded to "seize the day" and "live as if you'll die tomorrow", only to feel dejected once you realise that you aren't. I love these inspirational quotes, but sometimes I feel I am only using these to fill a gap that shouldn't be there; like I can't live and breathe such ideas myself, so I have to look to other people for this sort of attitude. As long as I depend on others to tell me to live life to the fullest, I cannot be an inspiration; to myself, to anyone. I utter the words, but it is not until I can devote my existence to them that they mean anything: Carpe diem.

Quattuor

Do you ever feel that anything and everything that you do is wrong? That every decision that you have ever made in the entirety of your existance has been the wrong one? Our lives are governed by action - without action we would lack the sentiment of achievement, the presence of vitality and the potential for change. Action plays a crucial role in our ability to function in society, and without it we simply become languid creatures living a vacuous existence. Avolition is defined as "an inability to initiate and persist in goal-directed activities" and "a psychological state characterized by general lack of desire, drive, or motivation". This absence of action and desire is also a common symptom for schizophrenics, so would it then not be logical to assume that action is not just a driving force, but a necessity for mental stability? This is where logic seems to fail us, because action is also the cornerstone of contempt, anger and hurt. Action encompasses a whole range of sentiments, from an "act of betrayal" to an "act of love". It is the actions of others that so often inflict emotional pain upon us, and the actions of ourselves that seem so capable of hurting others. And the worst thing is, the harder you try, the harder you fall. There seems to be an existence of "right" action and "wrong" action, and when we choose the wrong action the ramifications aren't just for us, but everyone around us. If we don't consider the implications of the way we act, we ultimately risk losing everything that is important to us. If we consider that a lack of action is considered unhealthy, why is it that action so often seems more detrimental than doing nothing at all?

Tres

We seem to have a habit of putting up barriers that blind us from all the beauty in the world. Whether it be the screen of a camera, a pair of sunglasses or the warped lense or misperception from which many people seem to suffer, it feels like we are continually hindering our vision and missing out on what is really there. It isn't until we take these things away, until our eyes are watering with the wind and our noses are numb with the cold, that we can really see what is lying in front of our eyes. The beauty is always there, it is simply a matter of breaking down the barriers that so often impede it's visibility.

Duo

Why do we make to do lists? I, myself, am an organiser. If you know me, you cannot deny it. To do lists seem to be a coherent way of organising things that need to be done, things that should be done, and things that you want to do. Unfortunately it often feels that these lists lack the latter. People like me seem to base their lives on organisation, efficiency and accomplishment. A tick in the box yields a feeling of satisfaction and the achievement of goals is always accompanied by self-fulfillment. But is it possible that we place too much emphasis on goals and directions? That we fixate our focus too rigidly on the "what's" in life, rather than the "how's"? That is, what we do, rather than how we go about doing it? No one wants to reach the age of forty and realise they have wasted half their life, but sadly it happens. So instead, we make plans for ourselves, set ourselves goals, and make lists of things we want to do before we die. Essentially, however, is this not just another to do list? Another way of organising our lives so that we get things done? Of course it is. And there is nothing wrong with getting things done. But when our enjoyment is derived from ticking something off this "to do" list, rather than the thing itself, ultimately we are just shifting our focus from the "how" to the "what". We don't lose ourselves in the moment, we use the moment to create the self-satisfaction of ticking that box. Emotion becomes detached, and we, once again, enter this vicious lifestyle of existing, rather than living. It sometimes seems that we are so focussed on what we want to do in life, rather than how we do it, why we do it, and the people we meet along the way. If, like me, your life seems to be defined by ticking boxes, then simply tick this one.

Live.

Now go and enjoy yourself.

Unus

Once we open our eyes, the twisted priorities by which society compels us suddenly come into clearer view. A focus on productivity, rather than quality; academic achievement, rather than loving relationships; planning, rather than spontaneity; the state of our bodies, rather than our minds; destinations, rather than journeys; material possession, rather than sharing; selfishness, rather than compassion. Everything just merges into one as we continue to go through the motions and become mindless, robotic creatures that act without reason or conviction, but rather, are simply conforming to the values of an increasingly desolate world. We are governed by the demand society puts on these things until we reach the point where we lose sight of the things that really matter. Perhaps sometimes we just need to step back and think: what is really important to us?