chimaera

(Okay, so maybe /now/ I'm a little bit upset.)

Well, today I made an apple spice cake, with a pear. Don't get me wrong here, there were apples in the thing, but also a pear. Yes. Also vanilla and cinnamon and cloves and nutmeg and um.. orange marmalade? It's the best! There were also normal cake things, like eggs and milk and butter and sugar and flour. And this cake was made, not because there was a tingling in my fingers telling me to bake, not because I wanted cake, but because my mum wanted something to have with tea. She just mentioned that, and went off to pick my sister up, and came back to my slumped on the kitchen counter listening to Stars, with a cake fluffing up in the oven. And although she was gracious and thanked me and stuff, I feel underappreciated like she did not make a big enough deal of my making her a pretty good cake. But that is just how I feel, and it is not important.

Speaking of spices, as I was rummaging in the cupboard, I was just thinking how representative it's contents are of the fact that my mum's not been to Sri Lanka since Eid. And that's funny, because she decided, just about half an hour ago, that she's going in the morning. This is so that she can see her sister, who just had a cyst and part of her intestines removed on Thursday, and officially does not and did not have cancer! Although my mum wasn't really close to her remaining brother and sister, she does pay them attention, because they are all that is left. And they are pretty nice, seeing as in themselves I prefer them to relatives from my dad's side, except for the fact that I can't talk to their kids.

I am also a bit upset about still being sick. My mum keeps ragging me everytime I cough/suppress my cough/exhibit signs of sickness. It's like a constant "are-you-taking-your-medicine-this-is-what-happens-with-keeping-your-window-open-don't-wash-your-hair-I'm-always-telling-you-to-dry-your-hair-don't-suppress-the-cough-blah-blah-blah" which just makes me suppress it more in the hope that she won't notice it but which only results in it lasting longer. And I /have/ been taking my medicine and not eating ice cream or drinking cold things and drying my hair but seriously she can leave me alone it is not my fault that I am sick. It's not even sick. It's sick-ish.

I think she's just feeling critical. Which is why I didn't tell her that I was locked out of the house this morning, after the physics asssessment that I PROBABLY FAILED BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT DIFFRACTION GRATING. Instead I went for a walk. Usually my walks take me in the direction of the helipad park, probably because my street is kinda short, and is longer in that direction. But today I just wandered about the other half of my block, and IT IS BEAUTIFUL. Lots of little roads, and houses facing different ways and plenty of alleys filled with dustbin men that stare at me... Okay, they weren't beautiful. But, I found a FOUNTAIN. With SEA HORSES. On my block! Granted, it was dried up and dirty, but it was amazing to find. I just wish I had someone to walk with, because everyone stares at me like they are about to shoot me for my unholy indulgences as a flaneur.

I don't have to go to school until Sat-Ur-Day!

But I should totally study and study and study before that. Yay.

when they are freestyle footballers and psych major/theatre minors or rat-owning-bike-builders.

I just remembered when my sister weighed eleven kilos. She was really heavy, despite only being that weight. This was explained away by her being "eleven dancing kilos."

I keep remembering odd things, like how La Mirada smells. That Karina wants me to be an architect.

okay, that is not really the post. I need to stay up till 12 so I can take my cough syrup. Don't need to go to school tomorrow but I will. And I am probably better off using my twitter account.

Not skeletons, though. Nothing that I'd ever be ashamed of, but that I am sad to put away. Things with so much feeling, both frustration and love. And then there's also love itself. Feelings and dresses packed away into protective coverings, a shoebox, a bag. Layers of tulle gently smoothed out. I tried everything on before I got down to it. I'm about 7 kilos and half an inch more substantial than I was last May, and everything still fits perfectly. Odd, that.

And as I go through each piece, as I trace my fingers through each costume and my thoughts through each feeling, I don't want to give this up now. Because I can't. I've done it though. Already. It's amazing how much stronger I've become. It's amazing how things started to happen for me, just as I was on the verge of truly giving up. But I didn't. And here I am.

(I have a ridiculous amount of chemistry for tomorrow that I've not even touched oh dear.)

My sister quit piano.

I'd give up the macbook and my camera and chocolate and ice cream and movies and cool breezes and hot water just to come home at 3 each day, and have holidays that are real holidays, and time to play and practice and rehearse.

Let us not kid ourselves, I even love rehearsals and being crap.

My poor communist piano.

Speaking of plate racks, I was given 3 hours to do a 17 question maths exam and I used up TWELVE sides of paper.

Mr Poyo doesn't have the list for Chem AP Questions, so I don't know where to start on that.

At least Physics is easy and makes logical sense. I can't believe I'm calling physics easy, considering last year. I really do love Marianne, and if someone's going to shoot me for that, go ahead. She makes more sense than the lot of you.