6 December School's out for summer. liberated

School's out forerver! All done with, and soon Auckland Grammar will be little but a faded memory. Isla said something interesting last night, it seems noone understands why I don't feel a shred of sentiment about leaving the school. Well. I've sort of separated the people I've met (and rest assured those were mostly negative experiences) from the school, the spirit it encourages, the attitude it nurtures and the hate it harbours. It feels like it keeps coming from the inside...it spews forth some vibe which it indents upon all students that attend its hallowed halls. Whatever the case, it was celebrated by the removal of my shoes and socks at the gate, and a powerful tim-throw of them into the hostel compost...followed by a shoeless walk home. Ouch - hot tar + gravel sticking to feet = intense pain. Not to complain or anything, but I now have extra rocks firmly attached to my feet which don't want to be rubbed off...a shower will fix that...I hope.

The people I've met at Grammar cannot be so easily discarded, I realise that. But I also fear the prospect that perhaps they'll put less effort into remaining in contact with me than those shards of gravel. Friendships are fleeting, as I've been taught this year...but there are some people who I just won't let go to. I am determined not to...surely that's enough? Time will tell.

Last night was an awesome prelude to one of the most significant days of my life - Shochiku for all...well, that's just the thing...not all. The idea was we could only take 5 people to Tanuki, but Robarti decided that we were to attend Shochiku instead...no problem right? Well, not until other people (inevitably) found out about it, and tonight I myself have been excluded from some prestigious gathering. I'll get over it. The exclusion thing is something I never wish to partake in, but I also understand how it can just happen naturally. Of course, when it's done in spite, that's really something else. Who am I to judge though, right?

The old familiar sting...rejection...social leprosy...love...hate...jealousy...resentment...betrayal...revenge. Just a few random concepts that I can't be bothered linking or relating to my experiences since my last entry. Trust me, there is most certainly a link. This ambiguity grows tired. Being so goddamn cryptic isn't easy. Rumination of the Moment™:"Everyone I know goes away, in the end."

4 December Fuck you Test Cricket. Empath

Fuck you Test Cricket. I spent 40+ guilt-filled hours watching that series for that. All I got out of it was some good old commentator humour dwelling on such subjects as "Weezer", "Bill Lawry's Pigeons" and "What a good captain Stephen Fleming is" - who do they think they are kidding? Mark Taylor and Ian Healey are two of the lamest commentators I've ever encountered, and little was done to redeem a test series filled with disappointment after disappointment. On top of that, I have school tomorrow.

Life is seldom fair, I realise that. But when I reach a stage at which the slightest injustice fucks me off so much its a sorry state. Whatever the case, promising is the prospect that tomorrow is in fact my penultimate day at Auckland Grammar (fuck you Auckland Grammar) and that on Thursday approaches my final hour. This has done little to suppress my extreme bitchiness, and despite my general enjoyment of the past few days, I'm "snapping" at my friends more than I would like to be. That time of the month? I dunno. But the constant stream of sunburn this summer is providing me with (I guess its my fault for using beer as a tanning accelerant) is putting me in a perpetual "hot 'n bothered" state, more often than not leading to UCGNHBMT (comparable only to Bitcherella) all too ready to "go nuts". On other news I applied for woik at Palmers Gardenworld this week...alas, I've left this far too fucking late. On top of that, I managed to supply about half of my work experience on the application form, preferring BB's and Mark as my "referee" (who no doubt resents me for quitting after only 10 weeks) over that nice old secretary bird at the surgery where I cleaned...alas, I am fucked. If anyone has suggestions for where I might find work (no, I'm not returning to BB's) I'd be glad to hear them...until then I guess its just lying around home experimenting with drugs...yes, yes, naughty lad. Rumination of the Moment™: "Never eat more than you can lift." - That little gem of practical wisdom coming from the muppeted mouth of Miss Piggy...I just don't put any effort into these anymore!

30 November Free the Mind bat outta hell

Oh how I have neglected thee. Well I shall begin with a confession: it is now 2:38AM on the 1st of December which I do believe gives me the right to give you a "pinch and a punch for the first of the month", however despite my general expected standards in human behaviour, I won't force this upon you. Whatever the case, because this has a been a really, really long and (in reflection) entirely surreal kind of day, I thought I should put a stop on time momentarily. Goddamn I love Groundsel.

Okay, first things first. My exams are officially over. The last of those foul exams (coming in the form of the eeeeevyill Bursary French...which was, as it happened, not so evil as anticipated) fell before my Righteous Pen of Justice™ (well, a so-called "Dr. Grip") leaving me a free man. What I did find funny, is that the BITCH of an examiner yelled at me three times in the first five minutes and told me she was going to kick me out! Woh-yeah! That's what I get for smiling at a bitter, twisted old bitch. Whatever the case, 'twas not enough to deter me, and I came out of the exam relatively unscathed.

Today started early at 7:16 with a car-trip down to "the Mount"...Umm, yep, Tauranga was as bright as ever at 10:30 am (would you believe the trip took that long?!) when we arrived at my grandparents "time share apartment". Goddamn I have a trashy family. The idea was (I can only assume) that so-called "Fairway Lodge" would be a place for my grandparents and cousins and stuff to all re-unite at and enjoy...since they bought it (waaaay back in the 80's) I don't believe that's really happened at all. My grandpa has about a year to live, and so seeing him is important I guess. He gave me $200 too (and he is quite cripplingly poor down there in Gisborne) because I'm starting Uni next year...that filled me with guilt. I know Ron Jones blew thousands and thousands of dollars anually on his children's education. Time to get a job.

You'll all be glad to know that my somewhat traumatised state that I was in the other day has been rectified...somewhat. Things are certainly interesting in my social life (not dead per se) and are bound to intensify considerably in due course...that's the way I guess. After getting home, I went out for dinner with my brother, around to Matt's and then out with him and Finn for coffee...I must say, the feeling of self-empowerment (god we're so mature!) just can't be beaten...you would have thought it would have worn off by now. No such luck. Tomorrow shall be great I feel...plenty of uh, distractions, around here at my dad's house. Rumination of the Moment™:"Shake your spear at Shakespeare! Shake your spear at Shakespeare!" - Too much system of a down/meatloaf/peter frampton/nin for that man...god bless long car trips.

28 November Do you believe in miracles? Apath

Something fucked up. My ICQ (yes, "da q") isn't connecting properly, displaying everyone offline as "last offline" and with noone online, and while I'd like to pretend I'd been done the honour of being thrown on every single person's invisible list, the total misbehaviour of my precious internet reaches far beyond petty punishment. I could swear this thing is out to kill me.

Whatever the case, it sure is intensifying sensations of anger/frustration/disbelief and the like, and making procrastination (ie staying away from my room where study awaits) all the more difficult. A huge argument has ensued today, an admission been made, yet all is not meet. I'd blame it all on "extenuous pressures" (no, that's not a word) but I think it's more a defense against gross accusations...and I mean gross, to the extent of being totally sickening. Things don't look good for our hero Tim, anyway.

I shall take it as read that anyone reading this diary has already wished me luck for my boisary French exam tomorrow, and while I thank you my friends, I think your well-wishing is wasted. I'm going to down-grade my confidence level from "I don't care" to "Fucked" if noone objects, because after looking at some notes today, I realise that as a matter of dignity, I would be pretty pissed off to fail the exam. Ahh, well...mayhaps it'll teach me life's filthy lesson. Rumination of the Moment™: It is easier to fight for one's principles than to live up to them. True, no? Ahh why are humans such imperfect beings?

27 November A Million Tear-Stained Eyes so fuckin principled

I do believe its time I return to you, my friend. A whole two days and withdrawl symptoms were evident, twas time for a change, and that seems to be the general sentiment given events of late. What precious little female social contact I had in my life has creepingly entered a remission, finally giving up "da Q" in search of the social life I never had. How I envy them...but we all knew that from the drunken post, n'est-ce pas?

What I find amusing is that a certain guy, who I've not known for a year, because of his insistence to remain "at odds" with me is now making judgements on my character...no conscience eh? Yeah, that would be typical of "tim fucken grey". How can people have missed so wildly what I'm about? Do they see me as some chaotic, evil little creature with no sense of justice or goodness? I have these things in abundance my friends...loyalty? Yep, even me. Have they missed the point? Gross mis-treatment of friends is something I've fallen victim to, and it's tearing me apart. Ha. Well, I guess I can only look forward to destroying the Bursary French exam on Thursday (phoweee I have a whole day to study!) and then disappearing for a bit. Just the prospect of time out of Auckland, no matter how brief...it fucking excites me. "Ah gonna hafta stop usin' 'dem cuss words" anyway, because as much as I feel those sorts of words encompass emotions so well in today's society, they ain't eloquent by anyone's standards.

Also worrying is the distinct lack of pictures or actual content on this diary (godammit I promise I don't write boring narratives!) and anything to distract you or I from any perceived suffering (which I must get out of the way). As strange as it sounds, I feel as if I'm "fully" entering a transition period of some kind, and this diary often just becomes like a constant chain of consciousness that I hammer at for a few minutes. Consider this an apology, anyway. Whatever the case, I realise I can't be what I wish I were, and while its sad, I prefer to celebrate what I am. Any image of myself I seek to create has more or less been abandoned, and I'd rather just be the incredibly naked and emotional freak which you see on this diary 9 times out of 10. Any wish to appear disciplined, to be able to be objective, to be thoughtful, but silent, has vanished. Maybe I'm destined to become an angry young man with a lot to say (isn't that buying into a whole new image, though?) which appeals to me somewhat. Anyway, if noone else speaks their mind, doesn't that make it all the more logical that I should? Rumination of the Moment™: "The illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn." - I guess that makes me illiterate then guys. Au revoir.

25 November Ambient Anarchists Unite! beautiful liar

Alright, I'm superstitious...I admit it...I've become weird and obsessive and horribly sunburnt. I believe it happened last year sometime before School Certificate too...but I'm suddenly into this entirely un-timlike puritan existence. Explainable? I think not. Well the sunburn is giving me hell I must admit...its making me break out with goosebumps with no obvious cause and while not peeling makes my usually beautiful back look like a slab of rotten meat that has been hammered for a good half hour...owch. Anyway, I got up at 9:30 and braved the sun again (what was I thinking?) this time making sure it fell only on my face...no frontal tan godammit...still.

I also watched the All Blacks vs. Scotland this morning, and again in the afternoon, and I must say, Keith Quinn is totally over-rated. To me, he sounds like a loud-mouthed "usedtobeabullyinhighschool" automaton next to the lively scotsmen...I actually enjoyed the game that much more with the sexy and mysterious scotsmen commentators...while they marvelled at such house names as "Jonah Lomu" and seemed genuinely excited in the game (despite its lack of tries) Keith Quinn really lost the plot...his same trite, matter-of-fact crap just doesnt stand next to the Scots and their "craaaazeh" interpretation of the game. Ah, I love speculation, I really do.

Can't get enough of that genetic material of mosquitos! That's right folks, strawberries are truly in season (I'm assuming) because the entire "chip" I ate today were entirely delicious...on top of my eating to success (I imagine this helps my brain function or something) I've also been drinking too much (I don't actually have an excuse for this one) of late, and I figure the tradition of scotch in the evening shall be put on hold for the next 3 days (puritanism at its best) not to mention fasting...oh, the less said about that, the better. Rumination of the Moment™: Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana. ERP!

24 November All the Spoils of a Wasted Life... lobster magnet

Yes I'm afraid I have become what may be loosely termed a "lobster". My day in the sun (literally) has had some nasty side effects, and left me a rather tomato-like red. However, in the purpose of maintaining my image of classical perfection, I must keep striving for the golden tan which defined my years as a youth. This infernal machine has somewhat dampened my skin tone (no doubt using hyper-futuristic lasers!) and in the interests of teenage vanity, this must be corrected.

Another day out hunting with Matt, now about $150 down the drain in the last 2 days, I feel my compulsive Hawkwind hunting needs to kick back a notch. Whatever the case, still having done no study (despite vowing I would today) is really hitting my self-confidence hard, but knowing that I have it so much sweeter than my other friends and that its only 3 hours of pure dread kinda fills me with some sense of hope. We can but wait with baited breath. Rumination of the Moment™: "People seem to enjoy things more when they know a lot of other people have been left out of the pleasure." - This one from Russell Baker...Well "Russ", I believe you hit the nail on the head.

23 November Noone messes with the United States! paranoid

Itaaaaaaaaaaalia! - After a hard day of defending against Invasion from Mars™ I've decided to return home to hammer at keys on this infernal machine. Being only 12:50 (I'm usually asleep right now) I feel the time has come to summarise and celebrate the events of the day (yes, it has just been that good). So despite my usual objection to narratives (it's only because I have a boring life, I promise!) I'm going to get right on with it.

7:44 AM...eyes flicker open to be faced with the somewhat antiquated clock radio by my bed...this wasn't supposed to happen. 7:45 AM - BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP!...body still no woika. 7:46 AM - Second, handy, "radio alarm" goes off and suddenly the voice of some nervous British news guy fills the room...Afghanistan report...Osama bin Laden...etc, etc.

Flick into action...no need for a shower today. Mind fills with memory and desire, the night had stirred dull roots with summer angst. My sleep had been filled with the unnatural, and it was of little surprise, then, that already a gentle morning rain fell. Clothes on. Downstairs...stumble...down some more. Matt's at the door! Woh-yeah! In his car before I know it, excursion to record store ahoy. 8:22 AM - arrive in town...carpark, all paid for. Excellent. Nothing is open (it seems we overlooked the fact that such an early morning excursion could result in us being stuck in peak hour traffic, and then subjected to several bars and meshes pulled over shop windows.

I'm in "Brazil", the most pretentious café on K'Road...at least we'd avoided the Starbucks™. Pretentious in a good way, it seemed...industrial decor, ex-military hardware produces a viscous black liquid...café guy groans, thinking noone understands his pain. He'd been up for about 30 hours I'm guessing...Drink up Tim. Time for a round of pinball (best café ever?), share a couple of games with Matt...disgraceful effort really, but we saved the United States, Germany and Italy from certain martian destruction...all worthwhile.

Back to record store - still closed. Real Groovy? HooRaH! They do have Hawkwind vinyls...one Black Sabbath record and 2 Hawkwind records later, I am done. Matt picks up The Legend of King Arthur for 10c...what a steal! We're out. Back up K'Road...record store still closed. Very sad. Off to school for a couple of hours for a French class...preparation for Boisary and all that...got the reassurance I needed (motivation to study pending) and headed home a better man.

Yes, yes quite the day, muffins. Mandatory can of fruit salad (finally, breakfast!) and the discovery that I own the best Black Sabbath record ever. r0x0r! Rumination of the Moment™: Ninety percent of everything is crap. Ahh scientific research and statistics, perhaps the biggest load of crap ever. Ahh well, at least we have new gods for our time.

22 November The Show Must Go On. the new flesh

Me? Hateful? Well yes...apparently of late. My diary seems to have become a place for me to vent big time (feel free to replace the phrase "big time" with "hardcore", "to the max", "baddest" etc.) and while it may seem a little cruel, my only defense is that I have plenty of reason to be frustrated these days...in fact, it seems my life is a mixture of frustration, depression and the occasional moment of absolute glee...it's a vicious cycle, but now officially a week out from my Bursary exam I feel I have an excuse for being bitchy. Anyway, my liberal use of painkillers, Pink Floyd and an evening drink seem to be enough of a suppressant for now.

While I'd usually try and avoid talking about "the weather" with you, my precious, today has been wicked...finally a day of consistent rain...not that shitty on-off Auckland crap that we usually get. I woke up to the sound of rain pelting against the window pane and the occasional slamming of doors/windows (yes I live in an archaic dungeon of a house, and yes, my windows leek) at about 12pm (hurrah for 12 hour sleeps) and crawled downstairs to be put in front of "Greedy", the smash-hit-made-for-tv classic featuring Michael J. Fox...JAWSOME!

Where has Christopher Lloyd gone anyway? Since My Favourite Martian I haven't seen the guy anywhere. Him and Mikey made a great team...it's a shame that they're both dying of degenerative diseases really...even Hollywood glam can't save them now...nothing can...except a DeLorean souped up with a flux capacitator which would allow them to go to the future and find the cure for their various degenerative diseases, or failing that return to the past and recommend a change of diet to their formerly-healthy selves, and unless that occurs, then I fear for their continued Hollywood presence. Oh yes, in future I'll avoid making obscure movie references (but then again, who hasn't seen Back to the Future?) in case any of you are indeed ignorant enough to have missed its various screenings during the 80's. Rumination of the Moment™: "A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin." - I love that. Buh-bye.

21 November Don't tell me there's no hope at all. erased, over, out.

Oh I feel so much better...last night about 1am when I made that entry (yeah so I guess it was officially made on the 21st) I was a fucking mess...I'd had a thoroughly pleasant evening, destroyed by the all too common argument/gripping sense of betrayal. I hate that. I hate the way feeling emotions so fiercely leaves me such a wreck so often. To tell the truth I was very restrained on the entry if nothing else, because I considered ranting about my own petty little suicide-inducing problems which only further burden you, my precious, and while I'd like to think you could take it or for some reason wanted to know, I also realise I'd only end up hurting you...I'm a bitch like that.

I'm not going into details, except to say I feel so much better now. I'm also developing this idea...that if you love and cherish someone so much, no matter what you think in a fit of rage, your problems can be worked out. The will to work them out is enough itself...and no matter the pain or degradation that comes from trying to fix things, its all worthwhile in the long run. Always.

Also of note was that I ran into the Lovely Laura and Friends in town last night while "partying down" in Auckland City on a Tuesday night...what was I thinking, you may ask. The answer is fries. I did end up seeing the wonderful "Night at McCool's" (bear in mind we went to this movie with no knowledge of what it would be about) and for a so-called "random" movie it was really rather good...it kicked the shit out of American Pie 2, with none of the crappy sentiment and a bit of good old-fashioned black comedy...ahh, John Goodman and Michael Douglas, could there be a more star-studded cast?

Okay...one more thing I'd like to include in this entry: this is not part of my elaborate propaganda machine...yes of course I have an elaborate propaganda machine™, but this diary does not feature in its machinations...it is simply an expression of how I feel at certain points in time, and if for noone else, it fascinates me...sometimes looking back at entries I turn bright red, and experience feelings of self-doubt...but they can be overcome easily enough, and even occasionally they make me feel better for who I am now...no, I don't change much, but I always look back at myself and think "Godammit...I was so shitty", as if to create some illusion of self-improvement...and personally, I can operate how I want to...any self-deprication you might find in my diary can usually be ignored, anyway. People also misconstrue diaries, in that they assume public diaries are a means by which to manipulate peers or appear "deep and meaningful". Fuck off. I would never use this to manipulate anyone...ever. Deep and meaningful? WHY THE HELL NOT?! To those people that feel there is "something wrong" with that, a rather pronounced "fuck off". I do it in my writing, and my diary happens to be part of my writing...it allows me to experiment with different emotions, and flirt with darker ideas...where is the fucking harm in that? Go to hell, right now! Ahem. Rumination of the Moment™ (oh my god he's "ruminating", he must think he has something meaningful or important to say!) Criticism is prejudice made plausible. Well its true you know, as if you people don't make it plainly obvious...geez. Of course, that's not to say I don't want your criticism...just be open about it. Thank you, my precious.

20 November What has become of you? introspect

Does anybody else in here feel the way I do?

20 November Have you noticed the sensual things in life are always red? UCGNHBMT

Do I have to try and make sense today? Ahh to shreds has gone the world. An hour of CNN paradoxically offset by an hour of FTV, two worlds united. Two worlds full of anguish. Every being that walks the world encroaches with their own aura of hate and fear, intent on consuming me, no less. But to what end, you ask? Because they can. They picked me as sensitive. Vulnerable. I know they wouldn't hesitate to encroach on your conscience too were you not so fucking tough. School's out for summer but youth's out forever. It has been for years now. Innocence untimely ripped from the hearts and minds of those who would hold it most dear. Don Manuel Osario was the first, and you are next. I pre-date all this. It's called omnipotence. You, if such a thing exists, shall be the second to feel the burn. The unbearable load of hatred and anger, because while I was gone long before the wild sex which brought you into this world, hate can wait...silently. Perhaps the only emotion to stand the test of time...love was buried long before the sixties, but hate is our new social dogma. Welcome to the 21st Century, it's gonna be much better for you (YOU?!) and me. Rumination of the Moment™: Maybe some day I'll look back at this entry and plow into a parked car. Ahh slapstick, the fibre of today's humour. Well done, fuckers.