it's photo saturday!

I own a beautiful ten-year-old black Labrador named Kua.

I thought I'd show you a picture I took of him.

I hope you're all having a lovely day!
Charlie x

a photograph of a beautiful girl

So, about this time last year I quit practicing photography and took up art instead. I wanted to give myself more of a challenge: however today I found myself trawling through some undeveloped photographs and came across this shot: 

 

(click on the photograph to see it in better quality!)

Upon developing it I realised it's a very expressive shot, so I decided to share it with you all. 

Hope your day is fantastic, whatever you are doing!

Charlie xxx

I simply HATE this class!

You can relate to this. If you have been involved in ANY type of formal education, than I know you can relate. You know the class, the one that seems so pointless that there's no good reason for it to exist. The one with the ghastly and wholly unappealing people whom you are forced to do group work with.

It's currently 9:46 PM, and I'm sitting here, going, God, in ten hours I have two hours of class that I literally detest. Granted, it's only two hours out of the one hundred and sixty eight hours I have each week, but it seems to be two too many.

During the Prize Giving ceremony at my High School last year, I sat there with a hallelujah chorus playing triumphant in my mind, rejoicing in the fact that I would never, ever have to again attend a class that I hated, a class that was an absolute waste of my time. I won't say  'Oh boy, was I wrong' because I've enjoyed six of the seven papers I'm taking at University this year. But paper number seven literally sucks. There is nothing enjoyable about it. "Hahaha", says life. "Shame on you for choosing that paper. That's why I invented Performance Communication, and made it look useful. I wanted to give you two hours of misery per week. Lol."

Life, you are so rude sometimes. So very, very rude.

Because life is rude, it forces us to go to school for 13 years and take a bunch of classes that we literally do not enjoy. I haven't enjoyed class right from day one: on my very first day at school as a bright and  cute 5-year-old. This is my school photo from the ragin' year of 1999:

 I guess school and I have never been on the best of terms, because I vividly recollect being bored out of my skull as Mrs. Van de Molen taught us to count to one hundred. In an attempt to make things more fun, I played teacher and began teaching the girl beside me a more efficient way of counting to one hundred. I got put in the naughty chair for being disruptive.  Great start to school; punish a kid for knowing how to count. Fantastic.

My next memory of hating a class was being split into groups to complete a science project in year 5. My group consisted of a charming girl named Heather who couldn't spell her own name and liked to spit, and a boy called Zion who would read the dictionary during silent reading because he thought it made him look smart. They made fun of my short hair, creatively called me a boy, and in my uncreative retaliation I ran away crying. Mrs Hollinshead came and found me. Later that day I actually tried my hand at a creative response,  chasing Heather with a dead mouse, and then punching her. I don't recall if I tried to deal to Zion, but even if I did Mrs Hollinshead put a end to it by acquainting me with the 'naughty chair' again.

My other strongest memory of hating a class was year 11 science. Mr. Crosby would spend half the class standing at the front saying 'boys and girls, boys and girls' on loop while the 'boys and girls' screamed and threw paper and grafittied the desks, and the other half playing braniac on the projector to shut us up. I gave up on attempting to learn anything after about a month and instead acquainted myself with the girl next to me. We then spent the duration of the year having strawberry bubblegum-blowing competitions and gossiping about boys in an attempt to make the class vaguely enjoyable.

Now I think about it, that's probably why my knowledge of science dries up around the year 11 mark.

In the long run, what these classes have taught me is that they only go for a little while, and then they are in your past. And although I have Performance Comm in some ten hours and I'm going to find it mostly ghastly, I might as well make the best of it and pull the best grade that I can.

If you're still in High School you will probably roll your eyes in horror if I tell you that the teachers of your least-favorite class are fantastic. But they actually are. Since you're already in the class, treat your teachers like proper human beings, learn all that you can and leave with the best mark you can manage.  While the class seems to stretch out before you in an endless line of suck, before you know it it's in your past and like me you'll be thinking "I should have persisted with year 11 science instead of simply giving up."

That's the attitude I'm taking to Performance Comm tomorrow morning, anyhow. And I hope you take it to your classes, too.

Charlie x

Lyrics: The Silly Song by Carrie Hope Fletcher

So there's this little darling who is blowing up youtube with her beauty and cute quirkiness. Carrie Hope Fletcher writes gorgeous songs and blows the best of us out of the water with her powerful voice.

A couple of months ago she put up this adorable little original, 'The Silly Song'. It strikes a beautiful balance between a lullaby and a love song, and is probably one of my favorite songs at the moment.

Several weeks ago she finished the song and performed it at Summer in the City. The final version of 'The Silly Song' begins at 3:44.

I posted the lyrics on tumblr a couple of weeks ago as I couldn't find them anywhere on the internet, and thought I will also add them on here, if you are searching :)

Enjoy, and have a fantastic day!
Charlie xxx

The birds and the bees

Singing in trees

Making me feel like I’m a butterfly

Flying so very high

Holding my breath as I’m looking down at the world

And the ocean blue

Waves at you

Hoping you’re holding a lover’s hand

Writing your names in sand

Building a castle where you can live with your girl

Because I can see

That I may be

Falling so swiftly for you

So if I’m a butterfly, will you be a butterfly too?

And I can’t believe

Among the trees

There’s a place that’s invisible, maybe even liveable

Would it be forgivable if I said we should go?

This candyfloss rain tastes like champagne

And I’ve heard the sunsets are beautiful, oh so very colourful

And when the moon is full, there is a fireworks show

And now I can see that I may be

Falling so swiftly for you

So if I’m a butterfly will you be a butterfly too?

And suddenly it’s very clear

I’m madly deeply so in love with you.

Lyrics: Emily by MIKA

When I was 13 years old, my 'One Direction' was Mika. I admired everything he did, made a lot of amazing friends through his online fan community and met him in Australia. 

He's continued to be my favorite artist for the last 7 years and in 2011 released an incredible french song called 'Elle Me Dit' which topped the charts in France:

On his upcoming album 'The Origin of Love', Mika has re-written the lyrics of the song into 'Emily', this beautiful little pop number.

It reminds me of how my relationship with my mother used to be, and is makes me laugh, as well as a little nostalgic.

Anyhow, I could not yet find the lyrics online, so have written them down for your convenience.
I hope the rest of your day is simply splendid!

Charlie xxx

Emily, Emily,
Emily, can't you write a happy song?
Get your ass to number one. 
You could try a little harder
Emily, you could be a millionare, but you're so full of hot air.
Gonna end up like your father.
Emily, you can't leave your life to chance. 
Get a boy and learn to dance, be a girl like any other
Emily, are you stuck up, are you gay?
If you are, well that's okay
Because it doesn't even matter

Emily
Emily, it's your life, and you can't live it twice
One day you'll understand: Emily, take my hand.
Emily, I love you, and I know you do too
You never make no sense, screaming at me in French
"Pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, shut up, listen to me."
Dance with me Emily.
"Pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, shut up, listen to me."
Dance with me Emily.

Emily, you've got so much in your life
Me, I got no-one's advice
Don't you know you got it easy?
Emily, what you smoking, what's that stench
Who you screaming at in French?
Did you really think you had me?
Emily, that's enough, do as you're told
You're acting like you're eight years old
I give up, it's not worth trying
Emily, one day I will end up dead.
That's the only thing I said that would ever get her smiling.

Emily

Emily, it's your life, and you can't live it twice
One day you'll understand: Emily, take my hand.
Emily, I love you, and I know you do too
You never make no sense, screaming at me in French
"Pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, shut up, listen to me."
Dance with me Emily.
"Pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, shut up, listen to me."
Dance with me Emily.

Emily, live your life in a balloon
Lock yourself up in your room
So the world can never reach ya
Emily, am I speaking Japanese?
Got me falling on my knees
Got me praying to Saint Peter.

Emily, see the price I have to pay?
I would give my life away
If I knew that I could reach ya
Emily, why'd you make this hard for me?
It's not the way it's meant to be
I don't ever want to hate ya.

Emily, dance.
Emily dance dance dance

Emily, dance.
Emily dance dance dance

Emily, dance.
Emily dance dance dance

Emily, dance dance dance dance dance dance dance
Emily, dance.


Emily

Emily, it's your life, and you can't live it twice
One day you'll understand: Emily, take my hand.
Emily, I love you, and I know you do too
You never make no sense, screaming at me in French
"Pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, shut up, listen to me."
Dance with me Emily.
"Pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, pourquoi tu gâches ta vie, shut up, listen to me."
Dance with me Emily.

Emily, Dance. 

p.s you can listen to Emily below, but I imagine the probability of it being taken off youtube is high. Support the artist, buy the song guys! :)

Hey kids, let's all drop out of school!

School drop-outs are on to something.
Wait, hold up there. I know what you're going to say. You're going to say I'm wrong, wrong wrong wrong wrong. You're going to say that you should never give up the opportunity of free education, ever. But give me an opportunity to throw in my two cents and I'll explain to you why I have a point.

One of the most timeless and true observations that has ever been made is that the way out of poverty is through education. I would never contest this because it has been proven to be truth so many times over. What I would like to point out, however, is that I believe there is such thing as the wrong kind of education.

And though the wrong kind of education exists, it doesn't come into existence until approximately 11 years of school are through. After that point, a huge truth becomes obvious. This truth being that the right kind of education differs for everyone. What makes it especially difficult is each human's massively differing tastes in what they like to do. Different people are interested in different things. Some people like to look after other people, some people like to boss other people around. Some people love to write and dream about the world, others love science and analyzing it.

The thing about high school is that most 16-year-olds simply have no clue what they're intending to spend the rest of their lives doing. Of course they don't. They're 16. And while it is excellent that our society does recognise that education is the way out of poverty, it fails to take into account most people can't choose the path for the rest of their lives when they are 16.

Because we unfortunately don't do anything by halves, the concept has been blown out of proportion to the point that a whole new sector of our society has been formed. It's called University and is an invention that fills the gap between adolescence and adulthood that never previously existed. It teaches us that before we start behaving responsibly, we need to get shitfaced each weekend and copulate with anything that has a pulse.

Worst of all, it teaches us that we can't enter the real world until we've spent 3-4 years studying a degree in something pointless that we're vaguely interested in. And after this we leave, just as confused as when we entered, with our bachelor's of  English Literature or Archaeology or Oceanography or something else mostly useless. Work begins as a secretary or waitress or filing-cabinet boy, and we slowly climb the ranks to better work and better pay, the whole time shouldered with a massive student loan that will continue to burden our thoughts for the next twenty years.

Essentially, first-world society values what is essentially a caricature of education. This is why I believe school drop-outs have got it right, and that our culture is wrong to sneer at people who choose to take a different route.

After 11 years of bells dictating lunch-times, some people realise that they've had enough of education from nine to three and instead choose to face the curveballs and reap the rewards that a daily job offers them instead.Working in "the real world" does not necessarily equate to a life of manual work and penury.Actually, it is what so many people need in order to realise exactly it is they want to achieve with their allocation of time on earth. And instead of condemning people who leave school in order to do this, I think it is about time we started celebrating and supporting them instead. There is more than enough school-drop out successes to go around: people who left school at the age of 16 include Simon Cowell, Richard Branson, Peter Jackson and Henry Ford.

It is increasingly forgotten that learning is just as often accomplished through experience, and not soley through theory. High School drop-outs don't have loans, have the road clear ahead of them, quickly become responsible members of society and have certainly got it right.

I think they call it a "crush", or something

So, I'm a woman with a plan, right. I know approximately what I want to accomplish with my life and know approximately how I'm going to get there. 

Because I'm a Christian I know God might pull me in another direction, and that's cool. I can deal with that, because it's God, and he can do what he likes. I'll roll with it.

But in pretty much every aspect of my own life, I like to be in a relative control. I like to know what is happening, where, and what time. I like to know the exact state of my finances and to know where my friends stand with me. I'd much rather prefer to be getting on with things then sitting about wondering what other people think of me. I don't like not being in control of any part of my emotions.

I think this stands true with every facet of my personality, which is why I've never dedicated a significant proportion of my time to thinking about boys. Because they don't have any immediate impact on me, I don't particularly care about them outside of being their friend. 

But, well, I'd be lying if I claimed that there haven't now been a couple of exceptions to that rule.

Despite my disinterest in relationships, I did once meet an amazing boy who had so much time for me. He was my best friend and our friendship eventually became a relationship when I was 16. It tailed off shortly before the year mark. To put it bluntly, ending the relationship was not a lot of fun. I might as well have been running my heart over shards of glass. My heart felt like shards of glass. It was not pretty and I'll bet I was absolutely ghastly to be around as I argued with my feelings and spent months untangling my dreams for the future from him. Anyone who put up with emotional-shipwreck 16 year old me is an absolute legend. 

I left that all behind with a lot of maturity gained and much clearer definitions for my future. Also, my interest in guys had re-defaulted at zero. "I'll be interested in guys when I want to get married" determined my 16-year-old self, and she then proceeded to devote her time to studying a lot harder than necessary to get into University.

Hey, good plan, 16-year-old me. Good plan. I like the way your mind works. However, you forgot to take into consideration that little thingy called "developing a massive case of adorings" for a guy who barely acknowledges you. Awesome.

Yes, fast-forward almost two years and I'm in that fantastic place (note use of sarcasm) that I'm pretty sure everyone has been but never mentions: the unrequited room. If you don't have to come here, please avoid it with your life. 

Honestly. I met this guy at the start of the year and thought very little of him. But as the year progresses, I notice things. I notice pieces of his personality coming through, bit by bit, and my interested-o-meter ticks along until I've got this horrible thing which I've been told is called a "crush" and I can't do anything about it.

Crushes are not cool, guys. They're not fun, either. Plain old not fun. It's not fun when you have a crush and he hardly notices you and treats you the same as everyone else. It's not fun being this confused. It's not fun when you don't know what to do and decide it's probably best to do nothing although you wish he'd start treating you different even if you're not sure you want him to. It's not fun when you don't even know when you want. 

Perhaps you will recall that earlier I mentioned my intense dislike of not being in control of any part of my emotions. I can't control this part, it would seem. Not cool.

So, kids, let me take this opportunity to suggest that if you're thinking of developing a crush on someone who doesn't pay any attention to you it's probably not a good idea and I would advise against it. 

Also, to be perfectly frances with you, if you've read this whole thing, I'm amazed.

Char-lay xxx

Democracy is a complete joke.

At the moment, Democracy is making me angry. Why? Because it is becoming increasingly clear to me that it is little more than a popularity contest. Who can tell the most heartwarming stories to win the people? Who can make the most empty promises? Who can talk the most hot air? Democracy is supposed to be the ultimate political system of the developed, civilised world: everybody’s views have an opportunity to be recognised, and the majority opinion will win. However, you need only to take a brief glance at any democratic election campaign to realise that there is something horribly wrong with democracy.

 Why do we have a system where instead of caring about the policies of the Government that is going to shape our lives, we care an awful lot more about the leader of that Government, what his skin colour is and who he has been screwing? In my opinion at least, the crux of the matter is that, unfortunately, democracy has turned into a nation-wide popularity contest, pumped up with empty promises and autobiographies of struggling childhoods. I don’t care if the president is black, white, yellow, red, purple or green. I care about what he stands for.
 Am I the only person in democratic society who literally does not care who the Prime Minister/President is? Does no-one else care about the policies that parties represent, why they hold those, how honestly they believe in their policies, and how far they are going to go to make those policies part of my every day life? Take this image, for example, Does it say anything about policy? About how Obama is going to help the American people?

Nope, it’s a poster for A FRIGGEN POPULARITY CONTEST. The problem with placing all of the focus onto the leader of the party is best illustrated with an obvious cliche.
Imagine you have a vote in a hypothetical election. There are two candidates that can be voted for:

Candidate A was kicked out of office twice, sleeps until noon, used opium at University and drinks a quart of whiskey every evening.
Candidate B is a decorated war hero. He’s vegetarian, doesn’t smoke, has the occasional beer and hasn’t had any extramarital affairs.
Who would you choose? I assume you’ve got enough intelligence to guess where this is going: Candidate A is Winston Churchill, Candidate B is Adolf Hitler.

Of course, this is an illustration that should only be taken at face value. Despite this, I believe that it still serves to richly illustrate what a colossal mistake it is to determine the character of a person by listing their virtues. My point being: WHY DOES EVERYONE CARE SO MUCH ABOUT OBAMA’S SKIN COLOUR? It says nothing. Literally nothing. It is a popularity contest.

You can see why so many people can’t be bothered voting, and why they want to give up on the entire system. New Zealand had it’s lowest polling numbers in last year’s election for a reason. People are tired of the bitching and nattering fueled on by the media. You can’t blame the media, because they are obliged to report on politics. So, instead I choose to blame the way the first world society is set up for the way political debate never, never ends. Despite my anger about what democracy has become, I have a theory as to why it’s reached it’s current state.

People like to be ruled over. They like to have a figurehead. That’s why the majority of human history consists of some form of monarchy holding the reins, and it’s why we care far more about the figurehead of a political party than it’s actual policies. And its why I think we should get rid of democracy. At least that way, we can live in peace for extended periods of time, needing an uprising over the suitability of our leader every couple decades, instead of every bloody three years.

 What do you guys think about this? Do you think that democracy has gotten ridiculous, or it’s still the best system available? Do you think that people like the be ruled over? Until later,
 Charlie x

I’m going to start a written blog? Okay then.

Whaaaaaaat have I made another blog?

I’m not sure whether you, dear reader, may have ever in the past made acquaintance with my hugely Mika-obsessive or poetry blogs, both of which I maintained as a 13 year old, 14 year old, 15 year old and deleted as a 16 year old in a fit of privacy concern.

Why have I decided to make a return to the land of blogging? I like writing, in fact I like it an awful lot. I also always have a lot of thoughts tripping over each other in my mind, so, hey, lets publish them on the internet for the entire world to read hardy-har why not. I guess realistically nobody is reading this and if you HAVE made it this far in, let me take this opportunity to congratulate you on your continued excellence as a human being and inquire if you perhaps know me personally.

 For the rest of us, I’ll be posting at least once a week about whatever is running through my head at the time, and let’s see if it takes your fancy, okay? Also, let me snag this opportunity to tell you this same blog is running on tumblr! whaaaat? well I like tumblr a lot okay, don't judge. And although I'll post on tumblr, I’m going to do my very best to refrain from ‘ALL THE FEELS’-type gushing over how Sherlock makes me cry and Karen Gillan is basically a goddess. If you do want to join me on that particular sector of the internet, however, let me redirect your attention to here: http://floodsofsunshine.tumblr.com/ If you want to see this exact same blog on tumblr (it's prettier!) then let me direct your attention to here: http://runawaykea.tumblr.com/ So much love for all of you! Charlie xxx