And so we watch and so we learn/With eyes wide for our dreams to yearn

Posts tagged ‘change’

Elemental Extremities

They say when you’ve reached
The farthest constellations of despair, just breathe.
They say when you’re stuck, improvise.
Get creative, do something new.
There I was, knowing every variation of new.
I thought I could understand it all, before this began.
Life made sense – it did!
I fit in the world.
Live it all now. Grow, change, explore.
The greatest achievements are the ones expected by no-one
I suppose by my rules, that makes us spectacular?
Except, by you
You play by a very different game.
Dedication and sacrifice, focus and discipline.
You knew where you belonged, where you were going.
Achieve, fight, thrive.
Stone when I was air,
Fire when I was water.
Work hard and plan, you say
Smile and laugh, just live, I say.
And I’d warn you, of your pride too proud
You’d chide me in return, my ideals to loud

Between a rock and a hard place
A roaring, clashing chaos, the ocean met land
Swirling water and unforgiving stone
We were always two worlds, fighting to coexist.
I puzzled over you, fought for you
Fought with you, in excess
Too much, hours of time
An avalanche and an onslaught
Clocks struggled to stabilise, as with the rising of the moon
The tides would turn,
The sea would rise to meet stone again
As new ground, old ground
And ever changing terrain was swept over

“Never healthy”, you said
“Don’t care”, I said
If opposites attract, then maybe we are the same?
Magnets of the same polarity
Drawn together inexplicably, pushed apart violently
Too close and yet not at all
Each bound to their tethers
Never truly meeting
Never truly parting
Alien textures of the other, explored with curious fingers
Of words, snatching what we can in each interaction
Taking and giving and sharing and baffling…

You are more than I ever imagined was possible to exist
And you are less tangible than any cloud to sweep my horizon.
I am too different to function in your world,
And you are too defiant to function in mine.
But I know, that one day
You will burn your name onto every stone on your path
That ever lead you, to greatness and power
Just as, in my own way,
I will seek to weather and round the edges of my paved journey of curiosity
Just a hop, skip and a jump away
Along softened stone, my feet will tread
A very different path to yours, this we have always known

So yet,
Even if we never speak again
Even if I never hear your voice, or shake your hand
I think maybe, just maybe
I’ve helped, to smooth out some of your edges
To soften your path, no matter where you go
Just as I know you have helped forge me
Your name will always be burnt, on the inside of my skull
Long after you have left my present and future
Each taking a piece of the other with them
Long after the ocean leaves the rocky shore.


A Story

“Tell me a story” she whispered
“Tell me a story and send me away
Sweep me off my feet by the light of day
Take me to a dream in shades of grey
To a world where magic is more than they say
Show me people more real, brighter than day
Darker than night, with new games to play
Show me a world and make me part of its own”
And so she was taken and so she was shown

They danced and they shone, brilliant as fire
Young as she was, saw only desire
“Dance with us, you can challenge our games?”
Daring and eager, she stepped into the flames

She laughed, twirling, swept up with the gale
Exhilarating freedom yet powerless and frail
To do and to be whomever they cared
They ran with abandon, a wildness shared

“But a friend?” She asked
“Bring me a friend in whom I can confide
Someone to trust, have nothing to hide
Compassionate, clever, mysterious inside
Same evils we’ll hate, same morals abide
Sisters we’ll be, ‘spite continental divide
To live and to love, to treasure with pride
Oh, what would I give for even one!”
She discovered with joy, new journey begun

With glee and with smiles, flying onwards steadfast
Exploring the world, the future, the past
Like Icarus as one, glorious on high
But with pain wings do melt, for all things must die

She fought and she fled, seeking solace in flight
Searching out sparks in overpowering night
But the tangled lines bound her body and soul
With it’s magic around her, keeping her whole

“So show me a way,” she begged
“Show me a way to be safe, to be free
For this world that I love has enraptured me
It’s molded and shaped half my destiny
Without now I fear that I cannot be
It’s pain and it’s pleasure, trepidation and glee.
But this balance in night is insanity!”
Heart not be parted, the seed had been sown
The fire awoken, this world now her home.

What Do You Speak, & Why?

There’s a cliche going around on the Internet, things like ‘I Speak Fandom/Hipster/Gallifreyan/Elvish’ etc. Building off that, I think I’ll take the liberty to add some personal observations of my own:

As well as Fandom, I speak, to my level of learning: spanish, biology, chemistry, sociology, mythology, literature, art and some forms of technobabble…
I have also found that I can speak travel enthusiast, mature light conversationalist, teenager and 5 year old child. 😛
I can speak calculatingly, flirtatiously, quietly, brashly, argumentatively, wisely, considerately, engagingly, with a large variety of people from very many walks of life.

And yet, somehow I barely understand australian.
My hindi is better than my bogan.
And I do not speak gossip-girl
or shallow
or vindictive
or weak-willed.

I have a very hard time speaking in a way which suggests a lack of interest, curiosity or ambition in life, and in that find some of my fellow classmates very difficult to connect with beyond the lightest layers of conversation.

It’s odd, to see what a difference escaping your environment can make. When I look around my classroom, there are those who stand out and those who do not – but alternatively, there are those who speak with maturity and those who do not. Indeed, it must be recognised that this is an environment where being hilarious, liked or admired > being mature or responsible. But even so, looking around and seeing so many small people, some who barely know how to think, barely seem to go beyond the caricatures they have been placed in, making the general remarks expected, trying only as hard as expected, being interested where expected…

I am probably being judgemental in forming these opinions. I barely know the majority of the people who surround me each day at school, not to a depth where I can understand them. But, even so I cannot help wondering, how they will be one day; when life has taken them through more, after they had to harden, be stronger, think with reason and sensibility. I find myself looking forward to seeing them at a reunion in 5-10 years, hearing their stories as they matured and developed and stabilised and struggled and succeeded and settled. Because, despite being in the last years at those school, with those who are soon to be called Adults, I only look around and my mind screams ‘Babies! All of them!’

Am I a baby too? Possibly. Probably. They all will have experienced things I have not, just as I have learnt things they have never had the chance to. But that being said, I can count on one hand the students in my year who I know are like me; those who have learnt to live with the protective wing of their family far away, and they do have a distinct air to those otherwise.

Living alone changes you. Facing the unknown without support hardens you. Growing up will always challenge you, and just because you can legally vote now does not say, in a million years, that you are in any way prepared for what’s coming next. And do you know what? That’s okay! Because we’re all gonna keep adapting too.



Its a big thing these days. Especially with so many countries making the motion to have rights – ones previously ignored and shunned – made legal, open, okay, free. The world needs to be applauded; so much has been improved in the last 100 years. Slavery, sexism, racism, homophobia…we’re getting there. Slowly, surely, with many fumbles and regressions along the way, but it’s undeniable to even the most obstinate. Look around you! As an australian I can say, at least for us, if not the rest of the world – we’re living in a multi-cultural society now, rich with differences that make us better. It would be unthinkable to discriminate against the jewish family next door, or the chinese lady in the shop. Looking around a regular school classroom, I can count israelis, indians, japanese, eastern-europeans among us – italians, latinos, malaysian, pacific islanders, chinese. There’s barely 7 in a class of 27 that would be considerable in the old stereotype of the light-haired golden generation 50 years ago. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Proto-Aryans 😛

It seems so strange at times, how people can dislike or judge another on factors they cannot control. On their skin or background, sexual orientation or their physical or mental health. And looking at that, we should rejoice! Change cannot be in solely the laws and leglislation – but in the mentality of the people. And it is. Our generation has been brought up with the open-ness of the internet, the mindset of change, of acceptance, of freedom and of course people should be allowed to love who they want, why would anyone want to put down the foreign dude? He’s so cool, he speaks 2 languages! Granted, there will always be arseholes and bigots in the world, but screw them! 😀 We are so much more than that, there are so many more of us than them, and we are winning. Need proof? Look at Glee, on of the the most mainstream and popularly consumed television shows on air. The main reason people dislike it is because of the cliched songs, dances and plotlines. Nobody seems to notice the ethnic differences, the sexual differences, the races and beliefs and cohesion of the entire cast. And to that, we say Bravo!

Bravo world, for leading us to this.

At Skyfall

Have you ever had those moments when you’re absolutely at loss at what to do, or what’s going to happen to you? I’m not talking about some petty exam or boyfriend problem, which are, while still major enough alone, nothing compared to the necessities so basic you can almost forget about them; a source of food, a source of water, a roof over your head and a bed to sleep in at night. Well, could almost forget until having them becomes questionable.

It’s almost funny how badly things can fall to pieces. Like Sara Crewe, going from her beautifully glorious birthday party to find out that her father was dead, the diamond mines never existed and she was a pauper alone in the world, it gives you a sense of churning oncoming panic as the shock wears off. I’m just at the end of an absolutely lovely road trip through southern Argentina, and I got pulled aside today to be told the family I had been living with so happily before didn’t want me, and gave such short notice that an alternate location hadn’t been able to be found yet.

The head spinning of this was just, jbffinkbddub. In a very bad way. I have  no phone credit, all my luggage (suitcase, guitar, backpack, overcoat, two plastic bags) not enough money on me to pay for even half a bus ticket and no place to go. Panic threatens to overwhelm me every time I think about it. The only three people I would consider going to for help are all unable, and everyone else, well, they’re all overseas. So what do you do? Who do you go to, when you want to panic and cry and curl up in a ball, but legitimately can’t. To be frank it was less the knowledge that I  had to take responsibility and more the fact that I  really didn’t want to break down in front the people whom I’m around. So I repressed the shock, hurt, fear, worry, panic, anxiety and uncertainty, pushed it all back down, did all I could in the current situation to deal with it and then kept myself busy and distracted. Is that healthy? Possibly not. But them again, maybe taking control is a good thing – it probably is 😛 The question for me is, when does it go from reining back your emotions and keeping calm, to repressing? Because our minds have vivid imaginations, and they can run us into the most awful emotional states, so wouldn’t repressing be a good thing, holding down before they go out of control and break you down? But then again, letting all your emotions out and getting it out of your system can feel really good too. I guess it’s less on which is ‘better’ or ‘maturer” and more on which is more acceptable in public. It varies on place to place and country to country, but in general it’s Not Done to express extreme emotions among polite society. I’ve probably leaned more oftener on the hold-back than the open-up side when it comes to responses, except on the few rare times when not breaking down and hiding weren’t options.

And pride comes into play as well. I never used to notice how much people possess. It’s not only coupled with arrogance – pride is what stops you asking, accepting or admitting you need help, in any form.  That’s when it couples with shame, which seems plain stupid on paper but is really quite common in reality – I’ve found quite a lot in it myself. You don’t notice these things until it becomes hard for you to ask for money needed badly, or accepting a 5 bucks from a friend’s generosity. The type of pride we normally come into contact with is usually coupled with arrogance, but there’s the poor-pride, the ‘I don’t accept charity’ feeling-shame-when-you-do pride.

Hubris really is one of mans’ greatest faults, isn’t it? Like all of them, quite good in reasonable measures, and impossible to live in regular society without encountering even a little. Pride makes us stand up straight and look people in the eye, and it coupled with greed/need are the main incentives that fuel our work. Taking pride in yourself and what you do is barely a hop skip and a jump away from confidence, but oh how it hurts when it takes a hard blow. I mean, it was more than just pride that takes a blow in this situation, it was quite a bit of esteem as well. I’m not exactly the most stable and secure person at the moment, being away from all that normally there, like family and years of life making friends and connections and whatnot. So dumping me out on the street, figuratively at least, wasnt particularly. I did get a place to stay, luckily, but it was just…gah. Abandoned and lost and unwanted, how very pleasant.

Another frightening fact; how easily people can not notice emotions, even when their mask is held on by the barest thread. I, for example, was blinking back tears furiously for the majority of several classes, and it was only when I had to get out and curl up somewhere alone, unable to hold back anymore, that people looked around with concern and worry. It’s rather disheartening, but then again, you are only one person among 7 billion, so yes unique and special and all that, but so’s everyone else really.

SO. To end this on a nice note, and to give it a moral; (those things are generally a good idea) If there’s anything I’ve learnt from all this, is to be perceptive of other people. Look around and take notice of everyone else, not just your friends and who you care about, but everyone, just a little. There was that bit in the last Eragon book, about the mighty dragon paying such close attention to the life of a beetle, that he felt that life was just as important as the grand movement of the Cosmos. That sounds silly but would you consider the lives of you and your loved ones worth entire galaxies of unknown stars? Everyone feels that way, everyone is important, remember that.
Everyone is important. So treat them that way, through anything that happens.

A/N: Gosh I got off track with that XD Oh well.

Flying Home

WARNING: Emotional rant 😛 If you don’t know me/care about me, I don’t recommend you read the following, unless you want some messily arranged psychological my-head insights.

I’m going home soon. That’s quite possibly the scariest truth I’m facing now. In 16 days I will be going home. Home; Melbourne, Australia. Home, mine, since I was 5, hosting my mother and father and beloved little sisters and grandparents, and all my cousins an hour or 12 away. Home, where I grew up, had my childhood, swam ran learned sang and laughed, made friends and lost them, the sprawling city I’ve loved, where I’ve planned for years to one day raise my own family. Home, a world I haven’t seen for nearing 10 months, 12 if you don’t count the ten days between Indonesia and Argentina.


I’m coming home
I’m coming home
Tell the world I’m coming home
Let the rain wash away
All the pain of yesterday
Know my kingdom awaits
They’ve forgiven my mistakes
I’m coming home
I’m coming home
Tell the world in coming…


If only it was that simple. On one hand, I will be returning, to the security of my own family, to the ease of 99.9% English, to the well known lives and paths of the people who have been around me for years. I won’t be Taasha from Australia who Came Here in February and Speaks Good Castellano now, or Taasha from Australia who Sits In Class Quietly (writing or reading, music or talking occasionally), or even Taasha from Australia who lives in Argentina, who has Travelled the World and Plays Guitar Music that Nobody Knows but Everyone Likes a Little. That’s surface-me here. That’s probably who and what they see, who I appear to be on first glance, and I’ve gotten used to ‘being’ that, even though that’s not who I was. Back home I was Taasha the Smart Talented Student, the Eldest Sister and Happy Caring Friend. I fit in, had family and friends and confidence and the security of years. They were the things I missed the most when I first arrived here, the things I ached and longed to have.

But I don’t anymore. It’s been bloody 10 months, I’ve gotten used to being alone, not understanding a lot of the time, being the strange one who has a hard time communicating, the one without a real family, the loner. The one who has seen more of this country than most of the people around me, (in less than a tenth of the time they’ve spent in it) seen more of the world than most of the people I’ve met, the one who’s learnt to cry silently in the night because she daren’t go to anyone in person. I’ve learnt to be that, and I’ve adapted, and it’s pretty good most of the time, especially the last 4 months. I’m the one who strolls confidently throughout the city, who has fantastic conversations with the street artists and revels in the vivacity of life, the one who never has homework, the one with the expensive iPhone, but lives out of a suitcase and a fantastic array of earrings. I’m happy here, happy being the odd lonely artistic Australian, and I know, knew this existence wasn’t sustainable or quite possibly healthy, but I also knew I couldn’t live craving what I’d left behind. So I didn’t.

And now I’m going home. Back to school in the morning, and classes that are actually taken seriously for a change 😛 and proper uniforms and no nailpolish or hoops, back to my wonderful family who sheltered and loved me enough to encourage me to fly away, friends who were all so close, before the year split us apart. Back to English and taking my bike instead of hailing a cab, busking for my money instead of going to an ATM, back to homework and exams and assignments and little sisters who are wonderful and pesky and talkative and loving and invasive and charming within 1/2 an hour. Back to the city being a dangerous place to hang out, going to the beach on the weekend, singing and hugging when I feel like it, not being alone anymore. But as always, the price of security is freedom.

Far away, long ago
Glowing dim as an ember,
Things my heart used to know,
Things it yearns to remember

Someone holds me safe and warm
Horses prance through a silver storm
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory…

Melody, long ago
Sing this song and remember,
Soon you’ll be, home with me
Once upon a December

~Once Upon a December, from the Disney Anastasia

It fits so well. Because it really has become more of a memory to me, the world I used to know. I’ve changed, I’ve learned to live alone, Argentina is my world now. I never quite belonged, but I was happy here, and now that it’s time to leave…I don’t want to. Change is frightening, especially when one is unsure of what change it’ll be. When I left on that plane, on an early Saturday morning, I only looked forward, to the exciting unknown new adventure I was facing, not back at the world I knew, loved and would someday return to. Now when I step onto the airplane, I’ll be leaving behind so many friends, so many places, memories, a world and way of life I will never be able to truly experience the same way again.

And the worst part is; the world, the home I’m returning to? It’s not the same anymore either. And neither am I.

Growing Up

Do you know what’s interesting? How people grow up. How people think. Just, imagining back when you were 7 or so. (For some that’ll be merely a handful of years, for others the dinosaurs were still evolving :P) But, remember how grown-up you felt? Like you were big and could handle anything. And then when you were 12. Leaving primary school/being in middle school and starting to look at boys and going out and doing things by yourself. Most definitely grown up. And looking at the 7 year old babies, how so much less mature they were. And then there’s you now, at whatever age you happen to be in. To quote Andrew Blake who probably quoted it off someone else, “You’ve never been as old as you are today.” or something like that. And it’s true. Things happen in your life, over the years, change your mind and how you perceive the world.

We, as individuals, are constantly changing, the same way a teenage boy is constantly growing – and although its difficult to measure in small doses, and easier to see after large intervals of time. I think maybe that’s part of the reason teenagers get so cocky; because they’re thinking new thoughts with bigger, opener minds, and they can see that they are, and how much more similar they are, and independent, from the ‘Adults’. So, they start thinking that they’ve matured Enough, and that they should be treated the same as The Grown Ups. I don’t blame them, everybody wants to be important, independent and treated like a grown up – even 7 year olds. But that’s the thing I’ve been coming to realize. It’s not that simple. There isn’t ever any stopping point, a marker that says Done. There’s always something more, wisdom experience or understanding, that matures you that much more. Think about the Adults in the world around you – sometimes, they too have nofuckingidea what to do, what to say, or what the solution is to the curveball life’s thrown at them. 😛

It’s like those head-spinning physics theories, about 7th and 8th + dimensions. They could quite plausibly exist, but it’s incredible hard to imagine the idea of existing with extra dimensions, simply because we have no idea what it could possibly be like. Our minds cannot fathom an idea it has never encountered, it can’t imagine something so alien to anything it knows. There’s been examples made, of 2 dimensional and three dimensional worlds, but for more modem world examples; try and ask a lifelong nun to describe the sensation of French kissing. Or a man to describe the pain of giving birth. Or even a child who has lived on a farm inland all her life to describe the ocean in all 5 senses. It’s impossible. Not their fault at all, and I’m sure there are things a celibate nun has experienced that a boy-happy teen party girl hasn’t. But that’s the great conundrum of life really, getting more, be it experience or wisdom or understanding. Or maybe I’m just an a-typical Ravenclaw 😛

Back to the point though – we can’t imagine anything beyond what we’ve already experienced. So how can we imagine or be any wiser or more mature than we already are? Simply put, time. Just keep living, living life to the full, living and experiencing as much to the full as you can. And accept that there’s still more, that there’s always things you don’t yet understand. Yet.