Shavin Cravin

I'm flip flopping like the fish in FNM's Epic. I got hate in my heart and I admit it, yet plenty to rejoice about, and then again maybe not.
Random memories will crop up like at mittagundi in a cabin in the dark that felt like 5 star luxury after being shat upon by snow gods for the two previous days. Jasper said 'Do you ever get lazy wiping your arse?' the talking went on and on that night even when we had exhausted all amusing options. 'I'm talking about pulling your hand away and the paper is fucking black and you say "it'll be right"' or back in ballarat before the age of mobile phones when I liked someone but couldn't concieve of when I'd actually see them again I'd wander up and down the street because fortunately ballarat teenagers are pretty predictable you'ld always bump into someone you know. I never recall bumping into any of the girls I liked though.
I want the hate out because I don't understand it, but the other night lying in bed wondering what it was all about it struck me like that, like an alcoholic seduces his wife, 'I got hate in my heart'
Questions and self doubt, I have no work to do at work so I'm working on my work, I go home and am overworked in playtime where there are no deadlines at all.
My hair I want to put in ballarina buns and sihk topnots and pretty ribbons yet the shaving craving has set upon me fierce, especially since Liam shaved his head and I seek reassurance my head hasn't gone a weird shape since last time I saw it. My scalp probably needs it to.
I think about all the haircuts I want to have and the likelihood of my work letting me slide by with them, the fro, the mohawk, the braids, the tetracube.
I think about my community work, paranoid now that I am one of them and not what I thought I was doing. You get two types of do gooders: function over form and form over function. I don't know which one I am.
Marc is definately a function over form, he just does shit for people because they are people and he helps them out.
Then you get institutions and cliques that help out people because they view them as a lower caste and help them out to feel good about themselves.
I don't believe in selfless acts at all, I guess I mostly do what I do because I need to. I forced Zaman into the Fitzroy library and went ten minutes overtime in the lesson tonight because I have not ten inches from my face right now a reminder that Zaman's dreams are a subset of my dream (which is to help people achieve their dreams) and to put the effort in. It helps me more in seeking validation, being worthwhile and building esteem probably more than it helps Zaman. I also just plain like to not fucking give up on things, Zaman was going to send me home due to no venue to study in so I made him read the library opening times 'oh it is 8 o'clock' then we sat in kiddy town and I did relax.
That is until I went cruising the streets hoping to run into someone that would make my life make sense. Like that Sikh dude who was decked from head to toe in orange except for his shoes. I now have identical shoes and for three days in a row, store attendants were overly friendly giving me discounts for being both a student and a teacher (of which I am now neither). None of them gave me their number although I didn't ask either probably because I wasn't really interested because I just wanted to buy shit, except for that curry girl she was hot but the line wanted me to shuffle on.
Too many buttons are being pushed too weakly and I feel stretched as a result of late. I need something to happen to make it worse or better or whatever so I can deal with it.
Right now just got this fucking twister wheel going 'Left hand blue' inside me and that just makes no fucking sense.
Apart from the Sikh guiding me to the perfect pair of shoes, I also had this dream that has been unravelling in a vividness so uncanny that I keep forgetting that the dream had almost no practical indication of what it actually meant whatsoever. I would write it out for you here but it's too incriminating.
'Right hand pizza' is what I am being told right now, I should eat pizza. If you're in a self congratualatory clique still and reading this kill yourself now, I'm talking to you Trinity Alumni.
I'm glad I got that all out.