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the pirate girl
Juste un peu de silence.

black, white
and the shades of grey in between

photo's by me :)


This is just a blog for thoughts - songs that are speaking to me, pics from where I've been today, or projects on the drawing board.
Just a random outlet.
An area of free association.
Comments welcome - though anon's are discouraged please.
Enjoy your stay & come again.
Please note: The content of this blog does not represent the views of any organisations to which I belong.

pirate folder
the pirate girl

coeval happenings
reading: Moab is my Washpot - Stephen Fry
listening to: Napalm & Silly Putty - George Carlin
travelling/staying in: SA, NSW & Vic - depending when you catch me

Let's call today: 'Saturday, 26 June 2004'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
I sit at my computer, typing feverishly away, the heater gently blowing warm air at my feet under the desk.

My headphones are on, and every now and then between the blips and beeps from my computer, i hear traces of the television that sits switched on across the other side of the room.

I am engrossed in conversation. Online. Four windows open. The is nothing else in the world except this desk, these windows, my dear little heater and me.

Then from behind me, there's a noise. A low pained moaning sound. It's not from the TV set, that lies some distance from me to the left. No. This noise was behind me.

Someone else is here.

I listen again, and turn the volume down slightly on my computer. The noise sounds again behind me. This time, clearer, louder and more insistent than before.

I pluck up my courage. I crane my neck ever so gently, and turn my head over my shoulder. My eyes are squeezed shut, afraid of seeing the monster that lurks behind me.

It is howling now. I know it is after me. It has been watching me all this time and now, it has decided, is the time to devour me.

I crack one eye open. I shall meet my demon before it kills me. I will at least see it before it leaps at my throat and defeats me. It makes clicking noises now. It knows what I am doing.

I focus.

And there, on the other side of the room. I see it.....

My dad with his walkman on full fucking blast clicking his fingers and trying to sing along to Coast FM's Saturday Night Jukebox without the use of vowels.

Some people just should be stabbed.

7:03 pm | Post A Comment... >

Let's call today: 'Friday, 25 June 2004'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
well fuck you all too then.
god i am so sick of everything.
go away and leave me alone.

1:41 pm | Post A Comment... >

Let's call today: 'Thursday, 24 June 2004'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
written waering gloves

it is very cold tonite. brrrrrrr.
i just pulled out my old keyboard and started playing everyone song i could remember which sadly isnt alot cos that old keuyboaqrd has been put away for a loooong time.

i was trying to remember the lyrics to a song i wrote in about 1999. all i could remember in its entirity was the chorus and the bridghe:

i wouldnt mind if i could fly
i wouldnt mind if i could reach up and touch the sky
i wouldnt mind. if my fears could die, then my tears would dry.
no i wouldnt ever mind if i could fly

just because you cant see me: doesnt mean tyhat i,m not there.
just because you cant feel me: doesnt mean im not in the air.
just because you dont believe in me: doesnt mean that i wont try.
just because i've never done it before: doesnt mean that i cant fly.

i can fly.
just watch me.
watch me fly.

8:45 pm | Post A Comment... >

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
oh just fuck off everyone. give me some room. i cant breathe.

5:07 pm | Post A Comment... >

Let's call today: 'Monday, 21 June 2004'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
ok, so i know i'm slack.

today i went back to my old high school to drop some things off to my old media teacher - he's a nice boy, and i won him over with a bottle of red wine that i've been owing him for a few months now, as a thankyou for all the things he helps me with.

before that tho, i went to carly's to envelope and address newsletters, which took the better part of the afternoon, while i chatted to her. i figured it'd be a nicer alternative to doing it sitting in my car with little room and no one to talk to to help pass the time. whilst there tho, i recieved 'Gooby', carly's latest spasticreature. as soon as i snap a picture of him, i'll post it cos i just have to share the adorable oddness of Gooby.

he's a misfit like me, so i love him.

7:42 pm | Post A Comment... >

Let's call today: 'Monday, 14 June 2004'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
i wish i knew what html design fuckup i've done now to make my archive links go all wonky. =OS

8:47 pm | Post A Comment... >

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
a letter to a friend

im sorry that it feels that way;
as though we'll never get past that day.
im sorry that it hurts so bad;
that i'll be ok and you're still sad.
im sorry that i'd hurt so much;
that you're still tender to the touch.
and though you say you're brave and strong,
i see deep down that far too long
you've lied to hide
the pain in vain.
you cried inside
so we dont see.
the times you smiled
was just a face
to put a grin in yet another frown's place.

beneath the skin your secret lies
you cut to feel; not heal, not cry.
and im the cause the table's turned
my kiss that stung, my touch that burned.
and i should've known that this would be
the way it would hurt you and me.
but please i ask dont say goodbye
dont turn away just so i dont see you cry.

the ones you love are the one's you hurt
i've made it true so much and learnt
nothing from the pain i cause.
nothing from the closing doors.
nothing from the words i hear.
nothing from a loved one's tear.

i wish i could stop destroying it all.
i wish i could stop feeling so small.
but most of all i wish in this letter
nothing more than to make you feel better.

8:20 pm | Post A Comment... >

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
why do i hurt people?

i've been called so many things over so many years.

but i really am as bad as they call me.
i really am a horrible twisted person.
i really am bitter.
i do so break everything i touch.
i do destroy.
i'm broken.
i hate me.

hear me?
hear me in there?
i hate you.

6:16 pm | Post A Comment... >

Let's call today: 'Friday, 11 June 2004'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
i know that this will cause some tumult, but what the fuck... my space is a safe place. at least it should be.

i am in love. but most of you who visit me know that, and whom i am in love with. but i just needed to get that out. i am in love with the prettiest girl in the world. and tho i wonder at times if she loves me too, sometimes a hug is all i ask =O)

thank you for holding me.

7:20 pm | Post A Comment... >

Let's call today: 'Thursday, 10 June 2004'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
sending postcards to essexvale

to the tune of London Bridge is Falling Down

i know that you are there, you are there, you are there.
i know that you are there, you are there, you are there.
don't think you're hiding.

i know that you are there, you are there, you are there.
i know that you are there, you are there, you are there.
but don't think im crying.

6:51 pm | Post A Comment... >

Let's call today: 'Wednesday, 9 June 2004'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
my feet are cold.

dear readers/ viewers/ fans.


i know i haven't really posted properly on here since... well, maybe ever... and i know that i've had quite a few people stopping by regularly to see what's new, and sadly they find that nothing is new at all.

well, that's not entirely true. a few things have happened, and initially i've been reluctant to share them here, because of the many people who come here and read our blogs and sites and online diaries and stuff. But then i thought: 'you know what? this is my space, and i should be able to say whatever i want on it.' so that is what i'm going to do.

if you don't like it, then fine, don't come here again, it's that simple. i never sent out an invitation to you did i?

the rest of you, thanks for not being so petty.

so anyway, now that that disclaimer is out, on to posting. first things first, i found a heater, so my feet are getting warmer =oP

even tho the den has the tagline of "random randomness", the very first thing i said when i thought of putting 'shades of grey' on the web was that it was simply going to be a random outlet, much like the journal i keep by my bed, anything i like, or something that pops into my head, will go down on it. and here it is, and hence the current rambling you are reading presently.

for those of you who don't really know me - i've seen that this site has had repeated visits from France and other faraway places i can only dream about visiting - bonjour mes amis - i'll give you a bit of background, since i'd never imagined getting so much traffic from strangers - delighted of course, but surprised.

i'm a 20 year old theatre nutcase who is presently on leave for a year from a Multimedia course at the university of south australia. i live in the southern region of south australia, went to school in the country and live in the outer metro - so of course many of the minds around me are small and closed and ignorant and afraid of the unknown... that last sentence sums up my high school time rather well.

im planning to make my sub-major theatre & dramatical studies, since im submerged in theatre pretty much around the calendar, and love it more than anything. it is there that i blend with other people that seem to be on the same wavelength as i am. when someone at work (i'll get to work in a moment) told me they had cousins involved in the theatre that would probably understand me better, it finally clicked that of all my friends, it's those i know thru performing arts that i connect with the most.

ok, work. welllllll, currently i work at a herb farm - i'll allow you some time here to insert your own pun or joke about 'what kind of herbs do you grow?' and then i'll move on =oP - i pretty much run the place on the weekends in a supervisor position, and during the week, i swap between supervisor-ish stuff and standard 'shitkicker' duties as i call them - it's not exactly my dream job, but i'm liking it enough and it's money.

when i'm not being 'a herb farmer' - damn i hate that title - i do odd pieces of work like face painting, videography, and desktop publishing for some extra cash. And when none of the above can hold me, you'll find me at the local theatre, helping out in some way or other, or here trying to write.

yes, write. the few pieces of creativity that i've posted on here are snippets of the vast and rather untalented collection of poems and whatnot that i've come up with over the years. i had thought of making this blogsite simply a collection of songs and poems, but i'm not sure i really want to go thru all my hard copies and type them out. maybe one day.

but anyway, in regards to this site, and the few dedicated followers i seem to have somehow acquired over it's short existence, i'd like to say here and now that comment boxes wont bite you. it's kind of lonely here, this being the only blog to which i am the sole writer. so please let me know you're here, and say hello. even if you comment to say the poem you just read somewhere sucked, and please try to write some that arent total crap =oP.

ok, so i'm gonna go now. and let you get on with surfing the net, checking emails, downloading porn, searching for instructions on how to dissect your neighbours cat, or whatever other people do online. either way, have a good night/day everyone.

lots of love.


7:15 pm | Post A Comment... >

Let's call today: 'Monday, 7 June 2004'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
The First Dance

I'll never forget the night we shared that dance.
It was the most special night,
And everything was perfect.
It was my first dance,
And it was with you, the girl of my dreams.
I was so nervous and excited - The night was incredible.

Not only did you show me how to dance,
But also everything it means -
The closeness, the warmth, the embrace.
The loving gaze and the slow, passionate kiss.

As we danced, I forgot about everything else -
My nervousness had faded,
The rest of the world ceased to exist.
I had died and gone to heaven -
I was actually dancing with the girl of my dreams.
I'll never forget our first dance...

Jeremy Howell

10:45 pm | Post A Comment... >

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
so right now im eating coffee cake. i wonder if it'll keep me awake. i dont wont to be awake. i want to sleep and dream nice things.

10:26 pm | Post A Comment... >

Let's call today: 'Thursday, 3 June 2004'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
a favorite of mine

You Were There - Southern Sons

I guess you heard, I guess you know
In time I'd have told you, but I guess I'm too slow.
And it's overly romantic but I know that it's real
I hope you don't mind if I say what I feel.
It's like I'm in somebody else's dream,
This could not be happening to me.

But you were there, and you were everything I'd never seen.
You woke me up from this long and endless sleep.
I was alone.
I opened my eyes and you were there.

Don't be alarmed, no don't be concerned.
I don't want to change things
leave them just as they were.
I mean nothing's really different
It's me who feel strange.
I'm always lost for words when someone mentions your name.
I know I'll get over this for sure
I'm not the type who dreams there could be more.

But you were there, and you were everything I'd never seen.
You woke me up from this long and empty sleep.
I was alone.
I opened my eyes and no, I'm not alone, I'm not alone.
I opened my eyes and you were there.

Can I take your smile home with me,
or the magic in your hair?

The rain has stopped, the storm has passed
Look at all the colors now the sun's here at last.
I supposed that you'll be leaving but I want you to know
Part of you stays with me even after you go.
Like an actor playing someone else's scene
This could not be happening to me.

But you were there, and you were everything I'd never seen.
You woke me up from this long and empty sleep.
I was alone.
I opened my eyes and no, I'm not alone, I'm not alone.
I opened my eyes and you were there.

9:44 pm | Post A Comment... >


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