Firstly: sorry for the lack of posts. I’ve been taking a few days off “thinking.” You can expect a proper post sometime soon, but for now, I’m just going to share something which I wrote the other day. (I’m going to be posting it up on my Poetry page, too. xD;)

You climb high, high up those mountains; your hands bare, bloody and dirty, clinging desperately onto that unstable cliff wall. You climb and you climb; you can’t see your destination but you just keep on climbing. You bare the pain ’till you can’t no more.
Then you’re just falling; falling through the cool clouds and feeling the wind kiss your reddened cheeks. You think of crying for help, but find yourself with the most ridiculous grin spread across your face, and in that moment, you imagine, just for a second, that you’re flying up to the place you’ve been searching for all along. ★

Blind Cats & Passing Thoughts

December 16, 2008

This is a strangely fun thing to do… Basically, open up a drawing program — like Paint or Photoshop — close your eyes, and draw a cat.



They didn’t come out so badly, did they…? xDD

I’ve been experimenting with my photo editting software. I made a new banner for this blog~ Also, I’m colouring a black and white image from the manga series, Kuroshitsuji. It’s actually a lot harder than one might think…Robin’s caught on with the design bug, and she happily coloured a picture of an apparently very hardcore palm tree. Straight from an online colouring book, no less. xD

Tomorrow, my sister, my sister’s husband, and my brother arrive — along with Nicole, my two-year-old niece. Haven’t seen them in a while; they live in England. I’m also going on a small shopping trip with Robin at around noon — though I’m not so sure on what I want to buy. I think I’ll just pick up a couple of Christmas presents for the family…
On Wednesday, I plan on doing some baking. Should be fun. I’ve been slowly getting into the Christmas spirit — not very much so, but the more you complain about not getting into it, the longer it takes to actually do so, right? As I type this, I’m sitting right by our family’s synthetic tree. Even if it’s not real, this tree has been here ever since my first Christmas. It’s pretty damn special, if I do say so myself. Besides, cutting down a real tree would damage the environment. xDD I think I’ll do some photography later on — the ornaments look gorgeous, gathering every beam of light which they can~
I’ve been working on a novel. It’s not very long — only about 3100 words so far. It’s not like anything which I’ve ever read. I’m making it fantasy-esque, however not sickeningly so. (I honestly can’t stand fantasy. Names are too complicated. JUST NAME THE KID BOB, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE, NOT GORBARXIR IV.) I would label it as a modern-day fantasy, but that makes it sound like some horrible rendition of Sabrina: The Teenage Witch. (Jeez, I forgot about that show…) Besides, when I think “modern-day” I think of Gossip Girl and The Clique. Dear god, imagine Gossip Girl gone fantasy… *shudders*
It guess, if I had to label it, it would be… unique. xD I have fun working on it at random moments — it’s style isn’t anything major; it’s descriptive yet casual, complex yet simple, and I adore all of the characters in my own special way. I guess a more detailed post about it will come up in the future; I just thought I’d mention it.
It’s just about midnight as I write this, though according to WordPress, it’s 4 in the morning. (I really should fix that time. Eh.) Yes, folks, I’ve become nocturnal. Again. Mornings are hell for me. My mother doesn’t bother coming into my room — she settles for banging on the door and shrieking my name. I swear, one of these days… xD These days, I’ve been heading bed at 2 a.m. Not very good, right? I think I’ll stick in an extra 2 hours of sleep and cut this post short. It’s pretty pointless, anyway. xDD

Knowing Oneself.

December 15, 2008

I figured this was pretty interesting and spot-on, so I decided to put it up here.

Click to view my Personality Profile page

“”INTPs are relatively easy-going and amenable to most anything until their principles are violated, about which they may become outspoken and inflexible. They prefer to return, however, to a reserved albeit benign ambiance, not wishing to make spectacles of themselves.” – INTP Profile (TypeLogic)

“The Architects’ distant goal is always to rearrange the environment somehow, to shape, to construct, to devise, whether it be buildings, institutions, enterprises, or theories. They look upon the world — natural and civil — as little more than raw material to be reshaped according to their design…”
– The Portrait of the Architect Rational (iNTp) (Keirsey)

“likes solitude, not revealing, unemotional, rule breaker, avoidant, familiar with the darkside, skeptical, acts without consulting others”
– Jung Type Descriptions (INTP) (

The Swan Song.

December 13, 2008

I go to an International school. I watch people come and go. Every year, every term, every semester. Some leave with a BANG, some mysteriously dissappear. Either way, I’ve experienced that moment in a class where I absent-mindedly turn around to see a once-occupied seat empty. It’s a feeling that’s a bit indescribeable; you wonder what the person’s doing, how they’re doing, or where they went in the first place. These thoughts and feelings have never shaken me to my core, though. I don’t emotionally attach myself to just anyone; I don’t do it for the status. (As a result, I haven’t experienced my first love as of yet. Call me silly, but I want that person to be… very, very special. But that’s another story altogether.)

Summer and Winter are always incredibly bittersweet. The last day of school — before the breaks — in particular. These are the days which I have to suck it up, grab a Sharpie and write a cheesey signature on a school uniform (which won’t ever be worn again). These are the days which I have to say my goodbyes.

I hate goodbyes.
They’re uncertain, and I hate uncertainty. I hate not knowing what to expect. I don’t like it when I can’t see the other side of the road; when I can’t see where a path leads. I don’t like making decisions, and I usually stay up late into the night, fretting. I can’t help it.

Today, I had to say 3 goodbyes.
One was to a good guy called Ben; I wasn’t close to him, however he’s an amazing guy and he’s definitely engraved in my memory. (Costa Rica, ’08. “Even bettah!” …No one except Robin and Edward will get that.) The other was also a guy. His name’s Henry. I don’t know how or when, but somewhere along the road, I got pretty damn close to him. My friends and I would (and still do) hang around during Lunch in Mrs. Chesler’s — our English teacher’s — room, and one day, Henry joined us. Eventually, this became routine, and soon Henry was just… part of the group. It’s going to be odd without him around.

The final, and probably the most painful, goodbye which I’ve said today would be the one to Lanora.
Lanora is my Aussie friend; she’s kickass and an incredibly irreplaceable person. I could sit here and write, for hours on end, about all which we’ve been through together. I could talk about the first all-nighter I ever pulled, I could talk about kangaroos, I could talk about boxes. I could talk about so many things. Too many things. I suppose that’s what made today such an impact.

This is the first time I’ve said “goodbye” to a best friend.
And let me tell you, it’s not fun.

I said “see you later” to a few friends back in my old school. However, this isn’t the same at all. I can still see my old friends if I wanted to… and I still do. This is the most uncertain “goodbye” I have ever said in my entire life. I don’t know when Lanora is going to be back here, in our group, or with me. I can’t call her up one day and casually tell her to drop on by the next day, so that we can go to the mall and get a drink or something. I can’t do that.

It doesn’t hit me until I see the first official “goodbyes”, exchanged between Lanora and my ex-History teacher 10 minutes after-school. “You’re gonna do good. You’re going to be fine,” he said to her, while the two gave each other one last hug. Her face was anything but fine, and upon seeing this, I felt the tears prick at my eyelids. By the time we were back in Mrs. Chesler’s room, I was pretty much in a mess.

The time following that was a bit of a blur.
People around me, the outside world, was sunny. Children were happily scampering around, laughing and cheering over the upcoming holidays. Robin, Lanora, Ed and I decided to go with Lanora to get her transcript, and then Robin and I walked out of school with her, the three of us still with tears streaming down our faces. (Edward dissappeared. I dunno.)
I don’t think I could even begin to describe what I felt when I was walking home. It was something pure, something simple; yet complex. If you touched me carelessly at that moment, I would have probably shattered into a million pieces with an almighty crash. I don’t know what Lanora was feeling then; it was probably somewhat like what I was feeling, yet at the same time very different. The entire thing is too complex for a human to understand, I think.
Whatever was going on in both our heads, we eventually met the point where we had to part; the fork in the road where I go one way and she goes another.
I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye.
I was crying, again, at this point, and I was searching for words to express what I was feeling. Too many emotions, not enough words. “Well, Nora,” I had said, trying to sound cheerful but failing miserably, “Have fun in Australia, yeah? I’ll see you again sometime.” Even when these words left my lips, the only thought going through my head was I might never see her again. We gave each other a final hug, a long hug, and she told me to never change and to watch Armaggedon a million times for her — both of which I plan on doing.
I had to tear myself away from her, and with vision blocked off by tears, I crossed the street (I jokingly said “jeez, I hope I don’t get run over!” as I was crossing) and went up to my house’s gate. I looked back one last time — at the girl who was always there, one of the very first in my core group of friends — and we gave each other one last wave. One last look, one last tearful smile before we leave things in the hands of fate. I tore my eyes away from her, dashing inside my house, not daring to look back. If I looked back, I don’t think I would have been able to stand for another second.

To leave behind or to be left behind… I wonder which hurts more.

In A Nutshell…

December 12, 2008

Basically; this is a list of 10 things about me, which pretty much sum up my persona?

The Big Ten
1. I feel like a flamingo in a crowd of pigeons. Constantly.
2. I consider myself open-minded, but I cannot stand conservatives.
3. My body is in Trinidad, but my heart is in Japan.
4. The reason why I like Art so much is because I hate reality.
5. I don’t dress to impress — I dress to kill.
6. I can trip over air and I once choked on a single grain of rice.
7. I want to dye my hair electric blue but I can’t find/afford/get my hands on any dye.
8. Sometimes I want to feign my own death, just to see those who would care.
9. I am not nearly as quiet a person as people tend to make me out to be.
10. I am wearing fuzzy socks.

…And here’s a “Meal of Words” which describes who I am, once again… xD I’m not so sure it makes much sense… But, I tried?

Let’s plug in our speakers and turn up the tunes; sway lazily (yet gracefully) down into a chair and kick off our shoes. A small pitcher of sweet, silky gentility is plunked down on the tabletop, followed by a steaming hot kettle full of rich, splendid energy.
Grab a cup with a greedy hand; mix a concoction of the sugary, sweet delight, and sip on it with feigned grace while you wait for the entree to slide in on the scene — just like what happens in all those oh-so fake yet oh-so fabulous action movies.
Set the concoction down with a flourish as your server presents a small bowl, filled to the brim with pessimism. You slurp it down, not caring that people around you are giving you odd glances – gotta stay true to your colours, right? The soup hits the spot – just enough to contain your beast of an appetite, but not enough to fill you up.
Then comes the main course. You were never much of a big eater — however, the main course is a platter of eccentricity; because only wimps are afraid of the bizarre – and finish that up quickly, taking in the high sugar content laced in between bits of spice.
After a fair amount of time shovelling taking in all the flavours, you wonder vaguely if you’ll be able to eat anything else, but upon seeing the dessert, you know you can.
It’s a small plate of the mouth-watering dish, intricacy. You taste it, inhaling the medley of flavour — the sweet nectar, the zesty spice, and the slightly pungent essence. Taking a satisfying sip of your drink (you tilt your head back, letting yourself experience as must flavour as you can), you sit back; inhale, then exhale, and proceed to enjoy the rest of the evening.

Status: In the mood for 3 scoops of Rainbow Cream — the kind which stains your lips a dark-blue colour for the rest of the day.

The Time Capsule.

December 10, 2008

The Time Capsule

This is a meme which has been circulating around Livejournal, so I figured I’d bring it over here (if it hasn’t been brought already. OH WELL). Basically, the instructions are to write a letter to your future self — more specifically, yourself in one year. Save the link to the entry somewhere — or write down a little reminder on your calendar, just do something so that you’ll remember this small note. Friends can comment on this entry with any messages they’d like you to read after one year. ♥

Hihi Future!Jamie,
So, let’s see.. 2009, 2009, 2009.. you’re a junior now, aren’t you? Third year? ONE YEAR AWAY FROM BEING AN ALMIGHTY SENIOR. Or, technically, you’re almost halfway through juniour year! :D Are you keeping yourself in check? Grades are important! So. Stop slacking off, loser. Don’t answer to the expectations of anyone but yourself! In other words, no one but me. Unless they’re special. Or something. And also! Get off your lazy ass and write more! Remember you a year ago? You, with your millions of short stories which ACTUALLY HAD ENDINGS? What happened to those…? …Ah, endings…I remember endings… I hope you were able to finish that book which I started like… 2 days ago. I planned so much for it! Don’t let these efforts be for naught~! LAZINESS IS THE ENEMY HERE. And also. You better be taking a proper Art course, young lady. YOU HAVE TALENT, GURL. Take as much photos as you possibly can — and make sure you save every last one. On that note, you should also save your money and try not to depend on dear old mum and dad so much.
ALSO ahfjahf start being more active. Everyone else is working their ass off, and you? What are you doing? Playing video games until the break of dawn. Seriously, STOP PROCRASTINATING dsfnkdffg. It will come and bite you in the ass later, I swear. Though I’ll admit, your current self — me? I? myself? — has made a lot of progress in the Battle Against Procrastination. Make sure you don’t lose that battle!
And since you’re reading this, Jamie, you have to open up an email adressed to Lanora Feeney and Robin Jones Kerr. And type something in it. Anything. Include “quack,” that’s all I ask. OH DEAR GOD WHEN YOU’RE READING THIS LIFE WOULD BE SO MUCH DIFFERENT FROM HOW IT IS NOW. Make sure you make new friends. Some interesting people are bound to come along. And don’t be too picky! First impressions aren’t everything!
I know I said to study hard, but DEAR GOD PLEASE DO NOT STRESS OUT. I hope you’re more relaxed than I am now. I swear, I am a work horse right now. Relax and take a break every now and then, it really does good. Don’t get too loose, though. Balance is key. In fact, I think the hardest part about life is that ability — being able to balance work with play. I sure as hell am struggling to do it. Don’t ever forget The Diving Bell and The Butterfly — if you have, I think you should go re-watch the DVD. Or re-read the book, since I’m pretty sure that you have it by now.
I am assuming you’re not sexually active, but. REMEMBER: NEVER USE VASELINE AS LUBRICANT. IT ONLY TAKES ONE DROP. D=! (As you were informed in a certain all-girls homeroom. I KNOW, IT’S ALL COMING BACK, ISN’T IT? :DD)
I hope that you’ve flattened the mountain of insecurities which I have piled up. PEOPLE ARE NOT THAT BAD. They’re not judging you even HALF as much as you think, so don’t get too paranoid. That being said, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE tell me that you didn’t cave in and become one of the crowd. Darling, whilst being a flamingo in a crowd of pidgeons comes with a shitload of self-concious-ness, it also makes you stand out like WOAH. And independance is key, my dear. Never forget that. If you’re not you, you might as well be nothing. I can only hope that you have the same fashion sense as I do right now. Or maybe an even better one?
Also, I hope you’re still buds with Edward and Mai and April. Make sure you talk to them a lot, okay? ANDAND DID YOU EVER MEET THE SCRUFFY HAIRED GUY?! Please tell me you did. <3 When you fall in love, make sure you follow your gut and don’t overthink things~
Finally, I just want to tell you to keep a unique outlook on life; never loose your artistic eye~ Smile and shrug off things, and try to be optimistic! Cherish every moment of life. Don’t forget to go on that roadtrip with Robin — THE X-PERIENCE (with no e, because we’re just so bad like that) — and make sure you hit up at least ONE Pride Parade.

Live life to the fullest, have no regrets! Treat yourself to something really calorific for me later. SOMETHING YUMMY.

♥ The 2008!Jamie~

People are ignorant.
It’s something I have to get used to, it’s something which I must accept and move on.
I always tell myself I need to learn how to ignore them. It’s just, it’s far more difficult than it sounds. It’s either racist slurs or homophobic rants — I sit through it all on a daily basis, my brain being grated by the complete and utter lack of understanding. Sometimes I say silent, sometimes I don’t. But that’s not the point.
This happened today.
Basically, two of my classmates were sitting in class, going through an online encyclopedia, looking up the names of different diseases. For each page, they would laugh at the symptoms. Not even chuckle to themselves — they would burst into laughter, so loudly and so authentically that their eyes would be watering.
This is what has pushed me off the edge.

I don’t know how anyone can think that way.
I don’t know why some people act the way they do.
Is it somehow humourous?
Is looking down on another human being something which one can recieve pleasure from?
Is it “cool”?
Is it what has been engrained in our society?
Is it right to just close of your mind, to live in a box; to destroy everything which is not like yourself?

I search for answers — I’ve been searching for years now — and I haven’t made any progress from the day which the question emerged in my head.

People are ignorant, and I can’t help it. I can’t change “people.” They can only change themselves.
But, like a stain on a pure white surface — it’s hard to focus on the beauty of the light when there is a dark, disgusting object right in the middle of it. The more I interact with these close-minded people, the more I feel like I’m being stifled. The more words which leave their mouths, the more air I choke on.

You can’t swim in a town this shallow
You will most assuredly drown tomorrow.

Soda-pop and Tears.

December 3, 2008

I think that the purest moments which can be experienced in life are those associated with tears.
As depressing as it may sound at first, it’s true.

It’s human nature to struggle more than necessary. We panic, we plan, we try to control. You can’t deny it — I’m pretty sure everyone does it at least sub-conciously. We have to struggle in life to get somewhere — usually, if we don’t, it seems as though we’re not putting thought into it. To put it simply; we love stressing ourself out. It’s what we do, it’s how we roll.

Of course, writing about it is simple. But I’ve been there. Things pile up, slowly but surely, and eventually, you find yourself in front of a mountain of tasks and have no clue what the hell to do. So, you begin to climb — to slowly, but surely, ascend.
After giving it all you can, after climbing as fast as you can possibly go, as high as you can — you eventually feel like you’re just about to break; to shatter into a million different pieces which are blown away, forgotten, in the wind, and go tumbling down that vast summit. Or, you might just be so fed up that you want to just jump off of it and give up. In times like this, the best thing to do is pause your ascent, sigh loudly (and dramatically), say “screw this,” and take a long, good cry. You may want to try sobbing, or wailing, too. The more emotion, the better.
Tears, you see, are powerful things. They wash away the world — they clear your mindset and they give you freedom. Society pelts these silly little “rules” at us, like how “CRYING IS FOR THE WIMPS LOLOL” and that “boys don’t cry, only little girls do.” All of these little tidbits do absolutely nothing but put a lid over our soul and clog our heads.
To think, people actually believe that showing emotion is for the “uncool.” If being “cool” means that I have to be an emotionless droid, a clone — then I’ll take being the “uncool” one, thanks. (I can’t help but remember what my friend in my old school says — “I may be a loser, but I’m the coolest loser you’ll ever meet. =]”…she had no shame, hence why I love her to bits xD)

Anyway, what I guess I’m trying to say is — don’t be afraid to show emotion. Without expression, you keep every single thought, every burden and ever woe, contained inside of you. And then one day, you just EXPLODE, like the oh-so-many cans of shaken soda. And the clean-up is dreadfully messy.

We’re Almost There.

December 2, 2008

Like every other person, I frickin’ love it when that date rolls around on the calendar — the date that school (or work, for that matter) closes down for the holidays. Whether it be for Summer or Winter (it really doesn’t make a difference; a disadvantage for someone who resides in the Caribbean, though I suppose some people would think it’s an advantage), the anticipation of waiting for the countdown to shorten is a KILLER, and I can’t help but feel that as you grow older, you grow even more impatient. I have a tiny box on my sidebar of my laptop — a “Beacon Of Hope Box,” as I like to call it. This little glint of light in complete darkness counts down the days left until school closes. Right now, the date on it is set to the 12th of December, and it is victoriously declaring that there are “11 more days until Winter Break!”. Really, I just love that thing.

With me, you see, there is never a simple, boring vacation. I never complain about “being bored,” and whenever I see little kids whining over their boredom during summer break, it annoys me to no end. Last year, for example. Nights were not for sleeping — they were for either going out with friends or talking to friends. During school days, we tend to creep into our beds with dazed eyes at around 10 or 11 — even earlier in some cases — dreading “the early morning after”. During any vacation, nights are exciting and eventful. Going out to eat, or going to see a movie, at 2 in the afternoon isn’t nearly as thrilling as it is when done at 9 at night (or later, but let’s not go there). Everyone — even the people who suck at staying up late *coughRobincough* — gets a blast of energy. It’s amazing.

I remember one particular event during Summer… I think last year? Ed, Robin, Lanora, Tyler and I were going to go in one of those photobooths, to take coomemorative pictures. The thing was, the machine wasn’t working…no matter how many times we pressed the button to turn it on, it just wouldn’t respond. In a sudden burst of hyperactivity, I yelled out “DO ET ZE RUH-SHEE-AN WAY~!” (Armaggedon reference — Lanora would get it), and rammed a cleched fist against the selection keyboard. The screen turned on, and we all celebrated. I was in the midst of my “the Russian way ALWAYS works!” speech when the screen turned dark blue, resembling the “blue screen of death” which people get on laptops. A wall of Matrix-esque text appeared, urging to user to “Peform CTRL+X”, and the five of us dashed away before we were accused of sabotage.
(I didn’t break it. Really. It was… having a moment. Purely coincidencial.)
Naturally, there were tons more things which happened over Summer ’08 — too many to go over. I often find myself looking back on those days, yearning for the next time when Edward and I can have the infamous conversation…
Ed: No school tomorrow.
Me: Or the day after that.
Ed: Or the day after that.
Me: Or the day after that.
Ed: Or the day after that.
Me:Or the day after that.
…you get the idea.

So, until the 12th decides to joyously prance into the scene, I’m trying to keep myself here in the present –in the boring, paternal days — both physically and mentally. It’s a lot harder than it sounds, especially with the sudden onslaught of tests which has appeared on the battlefield which is High School. Still, I’m going to forge on, daydream here and there *coughcoughduringchemistrycough*, and try not to fall flat on my face right before the finish line. I can’t help but wonder, though — what are we going to sabotage this time around?

The Building Blocks.

December 1, 2008

Music is my lifesource.
Whilst I don’t exactly play any instruments — save for a little piano — I constantly have a song in my head, I’m constantly on the lookout for another good band, and my iPod is always with me.
I listen to just about every single genre, however the majority of hiphop, rap and r&b doesn’t exactly appeal to me. I can’t be all stylish and say “I don’t like songs which don’t have meaningful lyrics,” because, seriously. If you heard some of the songs which I listen to, you would ask me just what the hell I’m smoking. (not to mention the assortment of japanese rock on there. I don’t even know what the lyrics mean. They could be singing about dancing cows and I wouldn’t know.Oh well.)
But yeah, I have a broad taste in music. Zappy, hyper electronica, loud, in-your-face punk, and deep, magical classical — I listen to it all. It’s a pretty good mix of the lesser-know, underground-esque music and normal mainstream favourites.
I think that through music — just as with any Art — anything is possible. In fact, I think that music is what opened my eyes to Art in the first place. Watching bands peform live, with their over-the-top style and complete and utter lack of self-concious..ness, is like watching freedom on a podium. It’s amazing, it’s breath-taking, it’s everything.

Lyn-Z of MSI

Lyn-Z of MSI

I haven’t seen any of my favourite bands live — I’ve only been to one show, in fact — however, that’s bound to change. (i.e. next Warped Tour. With Mai. In Canada. It will be brilliant.)
But, as I was saying before… music is what opened my eyes to endless possiblities and to Art in general. It pretty much explains how I live today, and it definitely formed my idea of fashion. You will not catch me dead in a plain white shirt and jeans. I swear, the day you do, I’m probably off to do some epic Art project or something messy like that. Likewise, you won’t find me clad in the latest trendy fashion which hundreds of other people worldwide are drooling over. I don’t dress to impress — I dress to kill. Through my look, through my music, and through my art, you see me, the one & only Jamie. I don’t write, draw, create or dress to satisfy anyone but myself — if it doesn’t make me happy, I won’t do it — regardless of what other people might think. If I’m in the mood to go out in my neon-pink skinny jeans, I’ll go out with my neon-pink skinny jeans. In this world, being an individual means having individuality — and if you don’t have it, you might as well just be nothing.