Drama and Gravity work the same way

All it takes is a slight trip downwards, then as you keep falling the gravity pulls you down stronger until you're stuck at the centre of it all. How is this the same as drama? Well, all it takes is one accidental slip up, then things spiral out of proportion and you're in the centre of it all.

What to conclude?

If everyone has come to the same conclusion, then surely that conclusion must be true. But if everyone has come a conclusion only because everyone else has come to that conclusion, then surely it can not be the truth, can it?

Boredom

Boredom is the hight of creativity when you have no means of being creative. It's like being trapped inside a cardboard box when outside there's like a whole carnival going on. How does one become bored? Rumour has it that boredom lurks in the comers of every living being's mind, but only jumps out at the most inconvenient moments, ready to catch their host in their strangling grip unable to function in a way which is socially acceptable. Boredom makes it's host show the world their otherwise hidden weirdness, and just how unique and truly alone each person is in this sea of living victims. In many extreme cases, the victim will broadcast their infection of boredom to the whole world online, which will in turn spread boredom to all those who encounter the bored person. 

Sitting outside the classroom (Hyperbolic)

The ground is disgusting, truly putrid. Dried up chewing gum infests the wooden planks; faded whites, greys and browns plastered onto every nook and cranny. I can barely sit down without worrying I'll catch some STI from the mile high grunge underneath me, not to mention all those savage microorganisms scrawling themselves around and about. Ew! What even is this place? Is this actually classified as like some kind of upper end education system? This is absolutely mortifying, positively diabolical. There's crap literally blocking the light from getting through that supposedly "clear" cover over this rotting deck. And raindrops? In my hair?! That rain has countless layers of infected freak crap to tackle if it's going to get through, and here it is IN MY HAIR!! That's it. I've had enough. I'm calling social health services and getting the heck out of this Hellhole!!

Known truth

There are things that we will know in the future that we do not know now, and things that we will say now and regret in the future because of what we do not know now. In this way, each of us believes ourselves to be wise until someone or something shows us we are not.

It's time to chill

In today's society our lives are so busy it's hard to keep track of everything. I know for me personally this year has flown by so quickly, I can't help but wonder where all the time has gone. It's like one day I'm making my new year's resolutions and then the next I'm choosing which I'm going to carry on to the next year, (you know like those ones that never quite get a second thought). With this busy schedule tends to come A LOT of stress, which does not add years to your life. I've been thinking about how since being busy makes time go quickly and makes it harder to grasp onto memories of the moment, and how on top of this it causes stress and anxiety which in turn take off years from our lifespan, and how if we continue our lives living like this in a constant hurry from one thing to a next before we know it our time will be up and what will we have to show for it? Sure we may have achieved a lot in our lives from a worldly perspective, but what will we have really achieved? Will we have memories of moments cherished, snapshots of friendships relished, somebody to remember and pass on who we truly were?

We need to be careful that in chasing our dreams we do not end up crushing them in the attempt to be the greatest, smartest, most inspirational person we can possibly be. What will bring you true happiness in your life? If you simply rely on money or fame, take a look at how that's worked out for the genuine happiness of other people who have tried to do the same. Why would your requirement for happiness be any different to all the other billions of people who've lived before you? Basically what I'm trying to say is it's time to just stop and think. Take this time to reflect over yourself and make the changes now, before time gets the better of you. It's true that time will wait for nobody, but only you can say how you spend that time. Do you really need to swap your family time for extra hours at the workplace? Which will bring you more satisfaction in the long run? I see no point in spending your life slaving for riches and depriving both you and those who care about you of the things that truly matter, when you could do something so much more meaningful.

So just chill, take the time to unwind and relax. I look forward to the day when we can all have a little time to spare on our schedules, and when being busy means spending your life doing something meaningful that gives you a purpose, something that when your time is mearly up you can look back on and be satisfied, knowing that the good you achieved will live on forever.

My school assignment assigned me to a new assignment of assigning

As I was doing a school assignment on leadership I couldn't help but notice the variety of opinions on the leader I had chosen to research. I chose to research Jesus because I wanted a challenge, which it is since if I use quotes from the Bible I have to back it up with outside sources. But back to the point, when I asked my classmates what they knew about Jesus, a few of them relayed conspiracies of his ever having existed in the first place, a couple started to tell me everything about the religious side of his story, and many had very little idea who he actually was as a person. The main thing that stood out to me however, was that the dominant attitude towards even the name "Jesus" was very critical and generally negative. It seemed to me like Jesus has become both a saint and someone whose very name people despise as well as being the scapegoat for the world's problems. Upon further research, I found that Jesus himself prophesied this would be the case, saying that even those who associate themselves with him would expose themselves to the hatred from others that came with bearing the name. His words, "You will be hated on account of my name" are recorded literally three times in the bible, (Mathew 24:9, Mathew 10:22, & Mark 13:13). 
I find it fascinating that a man who lived 2000 years ago, preached for only a few years, and was hated by a lot of people can have over a billion people who claim to follow him today. And even more intriguing, is that the Bible itself is so often cast away as false and as a book of myths, while numerous other writings from that era are scrutinised carefully and taken almost automatically as certain truth, and the only truth we have about the past. Also, most of the things written thousands of years ago have either been destroyed or lost, while the Bible is still the best selling book to ever exist, despite how many times it has managed to survive extreme measures to eradicate it entirely. 

In conclusion, I have found that the truth is our society has developed some sort of prejudice against the Bible and the accounts described in it, but this is unduly so. I believe it should be given equal consideration as other historical books of its time, and that each one of us should evaluate the whole situation/story before making our mind up on the matter.

Treasure it💘

Picture the soft glimpse of a beautiful dream disguised as a tragic nightmare,
Imagine the chaos of a blossoming fairytale unraveling true love as we know it,
Gentle, forgiving, everlasting truth that holds the key to your very soul,
Delivering you from the depths of your darkest fears and endearing you into a new world.
Capture it, remember it, for as long as you live, treasure it,
It holds your secrets, your passions, your heart, so as long as you live, treasure it.

Victoria Knightley (Fiction)

Victoria Knightley
By Claire Sauer

Moonlight surrounds the dew filled paddocks like an oasis from the underworld, and streaks though Victoria Knightley’s platinum curls like the vail she never had the chance to wear. As her delicate feet pace the earth, her mind is filled with visions of his adoring smile and warm, chocolate eyes. In the days before the day their wedding was to be, never was there a moment when she had not been by his side supporting him with a love that was undying, and would prove to be so in the lonely years to come. Although she is alone as she slowly makes her way to the church graveyard with a singular daisy in her angelic hand, she will never be truly alone in her heart, since even though he lives no more he is kept alive in her heart as she lives through memories of him and the days of their youth before he breathed for the last time in her arms, when her tears slowly fell onto his lifeless face.

“But why the singular daisy?”, some ask. In reply she merely smiles softly with a distant look in her eyes as if she were not there, but in a land far away, in the land of the past, and she says, “The day he and I first met in the clearing in the forest, there was a singular daisy growing amidst the grass. He picked it and gave it to me as he asked me what my name was. Ever since that summer, the daisy has always been a symbol of our love.”. Indeed, anyone who listens to her feels for certain that she was right there in that moment, and would remain there until the day they meet again, after she joins him with her own final breath.

This daisy she lays on his grave, as she mutters a prayer thanking God for all the good times and the love they shared while he was alive. Although the town children have many hours ago closed their eyes in sleep, she can see a flickering light through the gap in the swaying trees as the crisp breeze trickles through the shadowy leaves, and carries with it the smell of that specific country side that is unique to this small town. The sight of the electric light takes Victoria back to the November picnic, where she had delighted the town children with her latest inventions of sugary cupcakes and tantalisingly delicious cakes and sweet treats. It had been a fine day at first, and laughter and music had echoed through the forest and sunlight beamed through the gaps in the forestry. How quickly the weather had changed! Victoria had had to rush to her car to grab her two umbrellas (good thing she brought a spare) and the raincoat she kept in the boot. These she had distributed among the children who had managed to stay dry and safe from catching any cold. But she, however, had no such luck. In her effort to protect the young ones, she had been soaked and later on was in bed sick for almost a week. They had then had to shelter under the trees playing cards until the dark, then once the sky was clear they played spotlight on the paddock.

So caught up in her past was she that Victoria failed to notice the light drawing ever closer, until her aunt was standing right beside her with the electric lantern in her hand, smiling down on her as she stared at the stars dreaming in the same way we are these days now used to finding her.
“I thought I might find you here”, her aunt chuckled fondly. This caused Victoria to awaken from her trance and reach out to greet her aunt with a gentle smile and friendly hug.
“And how have you been, my dear aunt?” Replied Victoria with genuine concern in her voice. Her aunt sighed knowingly. It was just like Victoria to be asking after someone else while herself mourning the loss of the person she loved the most. She may be well past midlife and adorned in a crown of white and grey, but she could still remember what it was like to be young, and she fully understood the pain her niece had endured. “I've been looking forward to checking up on you, love. How's your piano solo coming along now? I heard you were to head down to the studio in Auckland! Is this so?”

“Why, I do believe I will! I'm really looking forward to it too.” Victoria beamed fondly. Despite her mind being thus engaged, a yawn escaped her and her eyes grew heavy. The moon was right in the centre of the black sky and the day had been long.
“You must be exhausted! Well now, won't you come stay over at my place tonight? It's much closer than yours and I would love to have your company with me on such a dull morning as tomorrow morning.” Suggested Victoria's aunt.
“I don't see why not, I shall be glad to join you!” Was Victoria's keen response. They then made their way over to the welcoming house as they chattered lightly to one another, enjoying the companionship they had cherished since Victoria's infancy. The Milky Way Galaxy streamed across the sky, lighting up their surroundings and offering more guidance than the lantern.

“Just like the night he proposed”, Victoria thought to herself. She knew for sure that she wouldn't change any one of her decisions she had made in the past, and all she wanted to do was live in those days when everything was perfect, as youth has a tendency to do. She also knew that if she wanted to help the ones whom she loved who were still here with her, she would have to put past events aside and form new memories. After all, it's what he had wanted for her, and his dying words had forever stayed in her mind like an ongoing echo that never stopped mocking her deepest fears.
“Promise that you'll remember me, my love, and that whatever happens, you will be strong. The world needs you to be strong, and you have so much strength and love, please, don't let that go to waste. Remember, I love you with everything I have and I have done since the day I met you. Farewell my sweet daisy, l love you..” The last three words muttered in his very last breath, which were reflected by Victoria's own “And I love you, forever” as she was overcome by disbelief as the tears came rolling down her trembling cheek one after the other as she held him in her arms.

The storm in his eyes (based off "The Secret Life Of Bees")

The first thing I remember when I look down on the shimmering blue of the Earth is my little boy's eyes. The colour of innocence that once beamed with a pure excitement that penetrated my heart, but is now clouded over like a cyclone above the watery deep. Then I see the Sun shining up behind the Earth, and in every star the deep red that once oozed from my chest and mixed with my husband's, leaving its permanent mark on T.Ray's soul. When the bang sounded in our ears and my hand fell limp from his pleas, it was as if his own heart had shattered into thousands of tiny shrapnel, and that was the moment the storm had set in T.Ray's eyes.

There were times when he considered departing from the Earth to join us once again. The storm had wrecked havoc in his little world, and the debris had lodged itself into the deepest crevices of his heart. He'd been cast away from the mainland and left stranded on his own desolate island for many years, until his lifeline finally came along by the name of Deborah. Her hair and skin like the moonlight that guided him when the Sun went down as the storm set in, her lips were the raging fire which illuminated the dark nights. Piece by piece she bandaged his heart back together, even giving him a daughter to love as much as she did in the hope that an addition to their family would secure the bandage with an infinite bond.

But Deborah originated from the Earth just like every other girl, and the forest of doubt had grown taller than she could reach; Its branches reaching high into her sky and cutting off all light. Like a flower when in dark she sunk into depression, her petals dropping off and her leaves withering away into nothing. In her desperate attempt to break free, she ran away from the forest floor to which she was rooted, and in the process tearing off the bandage on T.Ray's old scars and creating a deep fresh open wound left gaping in the cold air as he struggled to keep his vitals stable. She was the eye of his storm, but now she had passed away, joining us in the grave of buried hopes and dreams.

The storm became a harsh blizzard that froze everything into that one instant, turning T.Ray’s heart ice cold and freezing him in that split second of time. He would never forget that moment. It was when for the third time he had watched the light go out and had caught that moment of transition between light and darkness with his very own eyes. It made little difference what happened there on as to where his soul was residing. All he saw when he looked at his daughter Lily was Deborah. The very sight of her brought back the realisation that he wasn't loved, that everyone he had loved the most had left him. Although she didn't mean to do it, it had been Lily who had pulled the trigger on Deborah, and this fact weaved itself between T.Ray’s heartstrings. From paper to stone his heart changed, and with the ice came a numbness which allowed him to watch Lily suffer under his feet, and prevented him from caring about the consequences of neglecting Lily's psychological health and not giving her the love and support she deserved.

Today it seems, however, that the ice has begun to thaw out, leaving his heart tender and full of regret. Lily has now been uprooted at her own accord, and is prospering in some distant land in which the soil is rich with nutrients and watered with love. Everyone he knew is now gone, even his servant has left him. Injured as a child he grew up disfigured in his soul, and this disfiguration drove help away and passed on the hurt to his own child. My little boy has now grown old, both in spirit and in body. But as he ponders his last breath, I know for sure that there is little doubt in his heart that he now sees not only the flaws of others, but also those of his own. As the storm passes over, he can see vividly the damage he has done, and he would give anything to erase it forever. If only it wasn't too late.

When I failed my exam...

The blank void

Sinking into an abyss of confusion 

How can my mind be so blank yet 

So full of the excruciating knowledge 

That I'm going to fail,

For the first time in my life,

I'm going to fail.

He's looming over me

My pen in my hand so ready to write

But with this dark confusion 

Overwhelming me I simply stare Vacantly,

At the ever blank page 

I just can not fill.

I'm helpless and hopeless

This was supposed to be a test

Of my scientific knowledge 

Not a test of how long

I can handle this stress,

I will not be perfect.

I can not and will not,

But I have no choice 

And I wish that I had a say

In what they expect me to do

But I'm only human too

And this test?

This test has got the worst of me

It's held me in captivity 

I can't Escape 

I'm trapped.

But then again the door is open

They say I'm free if I only I try.

But I already have,

And this is where it's led me

To the edge of insanity 

And my brain has shut down

But I'm still fully conscious 

Of the ever blank page

That I just can not fill.

Stolen friend

The light is blinding and the shadow overwhelming 

The high energy of light bombarding my eyes,

Distorts into excruciating agony

And the shadow takes over within

A contrast so great between the world outside And my inner self

So much light attacking me from all directions 

But not a single ray entering inside

Just reflecting off me and making my every move so blatantly obvious 

Yet going entirely unnoticed by you.

The gears are still turning but at a different pace

No longer trying to win the race

The silence came slowly, unnoticed 

Until before I knew it I was the centre of a black hole

Unable to escape, unable to cry out for help

Like a frog in a pot with the water getting slowly hotter,

Of silence I was unaware until there was no sound left

And the shadows I chased turned around and ate me

Hidden away from the light, still in the midst of it all

Yet going entirely unnoticed by you.

This voice

This voice

By Claire Sauer

Millions of tambourines and bell rings

Could not scream louder than this voice

This voice that mocks and stings 

Creeping into every corner of every choice

Trying to avoid it is like running away from an echo;

It slaps you again with even more noises

Who are they to say what I am?

What do they know about my story?

They see and they judge and then bam!

They try to tell me who I am.

Rendering ourselves useless in our attempt to hold back;

Since on darkest secrets it binges, and thrives.

But what about what lurks in their own mind?

Surely, shouldn't they understand?

When they themselves are seeking to find

Love once deserved now left behind.

Is individuality not merely a cover?

We're each pulled by the same strings, each other.

Endings unforeseen are now predicted 

Thanks to our own broken history 

Every single person alive is addicted 

To this screaming voice we've inflicted.