Jai Guru Deva

That's the line from Across the Universe by the Beatles that everybody messes up. Always. They either say it vaguely and pretend they know what they're singing, skip over it entirely or invent some weird English approximation. I think it's like a chant/saying from Hare Krishna or some other Eastern religion, meaning something peaceful.
That song is one of my favourites, though I will be a brat and say that I like the Fiona Apple version even better. The Beatles version has a certain rough 'unfinished' aspect to it, whereas Fiona's drifts along sleepily like the perfect pensive music. No, the lyrics don't make a great deal of sense but it's easy to listen to that song and feel even for a moment that you have all the answers in your pocket.

I spoke to Darcy Quinn yesterday. It's been a while.. it's been a ridiculously long time. Despite our friendship, there was only rivalry in Year 12. Constantly trying to outdo each other in everything, even in social situations. We are incredibly similar in some regards but we differ in some ways that give her a distinct advantage. Yet she has always considered me a 'threat' to her greatness. It's kind of amusing considering that after everything, she got dux of the college and I got a measly score that didn't even break into the 90s.
I have always had that peculiar relationship with her. In even the smallest things between us, there would be competition.In real life, we have the same first initial and the same middle name, so we devised a monogram that managed to encompass us - and proceeded to graffiti it oh-so-subtly in tiny letter in random places throughout the school. We would bounce off each other's creativity and ingenuity, having enormous fun with each other, but then it all became more guarded. We were purposely aloof with each other, I don't even know what we were trying to prove. I would get angry when she'd sit plugged into her iPod ignoring everybody, she'd get angry when I would flit off to lunchtime rehearsals or go to the park during lunches rather than spending time with her. It was very strange, like very calculated psychological warfare between two people who actually click and know each other better than most. It wasn't even malicious, it was just tricky.
But now I have a feeling that it has changed. I spoke to Darcy yesterday after a break of about 7 months. We used to see each other everyday. We spoke of her moving to Melbourne, me studying Literature, her seeing a lovely young guy who used to work in the record store, me turning 19 in a couple of days, etc. We had a good conversation without a hint of competition, just an actual desire to see each other again and play! Maybe things will work out. I know that Darcy and I will always be competitive, but perhaps this is a sign that we are growing up enough to realise that it's better being friends than rivals.

Tomorrow everything will be changed.. I'll be 19. Nineteen. That's a year away from 20, signalling the end of being a teenager. Teen culture, throughout the eras, has always been so magical - unfortunately nowadays it's a bit manked, for lack of a better word. Stupid emo kids, they have ruined it for everybody... being an emo teenager is possibly The Worst Thing Ever. Not only are you despised for being so attention-seeking and ridiculous, you're too busy forcing yourself to be miserable and hating the world that you can't even have any fun. Plus, when every silly little brat runs around telling everybody who depressed and suicidal they are, it takes the seriousness away from people who actually have a mental illness, but I'll continue that rant later. Being a teenager used to be something magical, especially for girls. Some teens that were pretty damn cool were those such as Arlene and Betsy (left), in the movie Dick, and all the girls from The Virgin Suicides (yes, they died, but who doesn't? - there picture is above at the start of the post). They are beautiful, free and magical - they inspire a sense of wonder and intrigue in everybody they meet. I want to be like that, but alas, I only have a year and a day left to be a teenager.

Oh, another good thing about being a teenager is that you're allowed to have silly crushes. Like on this fellow to the right - Trip Fontaine, played by Josh Hartnett. *dies*

I suppose he is the male equivalent - also beautiful, free and magical. Trip Fontaine, as a character is also accompanied by some pretty cool music by Heart and Air in the film, which is always good.

If I had theme music, it would change by the minute. Right now, I think I would be accompanied by Surfing on a Rocket by Air. This morning the song would have been Crazy on You by Heart. Later, I think it will be Last Goodbye by Jeff Buckley. Or maybe Sweet November by Sarah Blasko. I think I need a speaker system installed somewhere on me.. like little speakers that sit on my shoulders or something, so everybody else can hear the music that should accompany me!

Getting back to where I was before, emo kids. I dislike labels and imposing them on yourself in the first place, but it makes me even more angry when people deliberately join a clique in order to express their 'individuality'. It doesn't make any sense at all.
My little sister is verging on being like that. She's trying for dreadlocks, wears a lot of black and a lot of very provocative clothes, wants everything pierced and tattooed, swears constantly, listens to 'hardcore' music constantly, smokes pot, gets drunk every weekend, sneaks out in the middle of the night, etc. I don't even want to know about the rest - she hangs around with a very sexually experienced crowd. At least she's kept her cynical, sardonic sense of humour rather than submitting to the whole 'f*ck the world', 'damn the man', 'my heart has been stepped on by society' outlook.
Bad things happen to people, I know, but I can't understand people taking such ridiculously sucky attitudes. Life hurts, people aren't nice, fate can deliver some cutting blows and bad things happen. It's definitely ok to be sad, but to let bad things translate into your entire outlook on life forever is just pathetic. It really is.

The word 'depression' and its associated terms are flung around far too much. Leave it for the people who are actually suffering from it. Maybe one day you will too and you'll realise how petty it was all those times you said you were depressed, and how it's not a patch on what you feel when you actually are.

Ok, rant over.

It's my birthday tomorrow, and I feel like junk. Nothing is going to work out the way I hoped it would - my friends aren't around, Lucien barely has enough time to see me, I'm getting a cold (again, I'm losing count of how many I've had), etc. But I'm trying. I'm cleaning my bedroom and buying flowers to make it smell nice. I have chosen one of my favourite most magical outfits to wear; antique pale aqua sundress and pink short-sleeved cardigan. Every time I see a mirror I flash a smile at myself - it's forced and my eyes don't seem to mean it, but I'm really trying. I hate being miserable, it isn't something I'd ever willingly inflict on myself - it just happens without warning. That's why I am trying so hard.. I want to smile lots on my birthday and mean it.