This minor detail may not be important to a lot of you, but it’s important to me; I’m not gay. Ever since I started a relationship with my current boyfriend of three years, I was automatically assumed to be gay. At first I just dealt with it because the ‘gay’ label seemed a little more accurate than the ‘straight’ label. However, as time went on, I began to despise the label that I had so foolishly accepted as my own. Continue Reading
About a month ago, a close friend of mine said something about my blog and I haven’t been able to rid my mind of it since; “The way you write on your blog is a lot different to how you are in person.” I laughed it off, not thinking about the implications of her comment, and continued on with my day. However, as the day went on, her words grew within me and became a challenge to my soul. Why is it that how I write and how I am are two different things? I wasn’t able to answer that question for quite a few weeks but I think I finally have an answer to share. Continue Reading
Hipsters were once people with authentic alternate taste. They found refuge in underrated music, op-shop clothing and underground slang. They were not motivated by hate for the mainstream but rather, they were inspired by difference. This is no longer the case. Hipsters have ultimately become a collective rebellion. They like what most people don’t like, purely for the purpose of not being like ‘most people’. Ironically, this dissatisfaction with the mainstream has become mainstream in itself and therefore, these ‘hipsters’ are nothing but reflections of their enemy. If you want to learn more about how hipsters became mainstream, read this Vice article by Drew Millard.
I could appreciate the humour in all of this, if it didn’t frustrate me so much. Why are people so inclined to degrade the mainstream? Do they not realise that the mainstream is an expression of our society? Continue Reading
You wake up during the witching hour; a time you were once scared of. You pull your suitcase from under the bed and open it to reveal the remnants of the life you have been living. You double check you have everything you need and when you realise you don’t, you smile. You quickly close the suitcase, not wanting to think twice, and pick it up with both hands. This is it. You are ready.
You quietly walk down the stairs and open the front door. You don’t look back because you have learnt by now that when you look back, you are not looking forward. You walk along the footpath towards the carriage, a yellow carriage, and the coachman takes hold of your life and places it in the boot. You take your seat, eyes still forward, and take a deep breath. You may not know where you are going but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you are going and if life isn’t about going, then what is it about?
I am barely half-way through the new Netflix show ’13 Reasons Why’ and I cannot breathe. The television show depicts the life of Hannah Baker and how the world fell upon her. After taking her own life, she leaves a series of tapes detailing the reasons for her death. They all relate to the people who have hurt her and the situations that she could not escape. It is the first true depiction of suicide I have seen in mainstream media and the first that has been able to capture my grief. Continue Reading
The strangest thing happened today I encountered myself. I have been walking the earth for twenty years but I have never been able to see whom is doing that walking. Today I saw. I attended a university class named ‘Creative Writing: Voices’ and was forced to look upon my soul in all of its glory, in all of its distain.
I consider the act of writing to be innate. It is more than part of my existence, it is the reason for my existence. Weaving words together is a thoughtless task, one that I would compare to breathing. You don’t calculate the way in which you breathe, you simply breathe and I don’t calculate the way in which I write, I simply write. That is how it has always been and the child within me thought that is how it would always be. That child was wrong. Continue Reading
“You look like a giraffe”, “gay bald ginger”, “Damn your foreheads gigantic.”
That is a mere goody-bag of what is said about me on the internet. The reality is, people don’t like me. I am in a homosexual relationship, I have an abnormally large forehead, my voice is high, I have freckles and I openly share my opinions. Those attributes come together to create difference and even though we are living in a progressive era, those who are different are still crucified… I am crucified.
This article does not contain a cure. I am unsure of how to open the minds of the ignorant and fill them with the knowledge that we are all collectively human. I wish I could do that but the history of this world has taught me that no matter how hard you try, some people will always be left unconvinced. On that basis, I only want to share with you what I am sure of; myself. Continue Reading
I did it. Somehow I did it. I logged into my laptop, pulled up Microsoft Word and let my fingers bleed onto the keyboard. When I began writing, I had a story in mind but after the first sentence, the nature of that story changed. I think that’s the reality of writing a book. With each sentence comes new possibilities. The writing process is therefore indistinguishable from the moving stairs in Hogwarts because new paths are constantly being made and destroyed. How thrilling… right?
Yes and no. Yes in that your story comes to life and is given the ability to rewrite itself in ways that you never imagined. No in that it sometimes feels like you don’t have control, which is a very strange feeling considering you are the one writing the story. Continue Reading
I want to know. In fact, I need to know. How does one dedicate their entirety to writing a book? How do they sit their for hours and hours, consumed by the words that bleed from their pens? How do they sacrifice a significant period of time for a story that may not be good enough? These are the questions that have kept me from sleep. I just don’t understand. How do people do it?
I know that I am a writer. It is one of the very few things that I am sure of. I pick up a pen or rest my fingers against keyboard, and the pain within me finds refuge. It still very much exists but I begin to understand its existence and that is enough to keep me writing forever. Continue Reading
If you delve into the world of YouTube, you should know by now that the vegan YouTube community is the most dramatic of all. There is scandal after scandal and somehow the vegan movement is becoming less about the animals and more about the over-dramatic lives of those who say they care about the animals.
The Vegan Cheetah, Durianrider, Freelee the Banana Girl, Essena O’Neill… I could literally write an encyclopedia dedicated to the drama that surrounds this community. Although 99% of the scandal is superficial and entirely unrelated to veganism, there has been a recent spectacle that has left me gobsmacked. Continue Reading