Terminal Boredom
Briefly, Of Camp and Farewells

Seeing as I don’t have the patience to completely describe my camp experience (it would take a very long time) I will share the end of my camp experience, as it is the most fresh in my mind, and also what I have been wanting to share with someone.

So I stayed behind an extra four days at camp, for more money and for relatively free room and board. I stayed with one of my co-staff, who I got along with, but not without a little bit of effort. I wish we gelled more, but I felt that we always clashed a little bit. I’m not too sure, I’m not the most socially aware person.

Anyway. The children left on the 14th of August. That night was boat cruise, a night of drunkenness and debauchery, and a tale unto itself (which I shall not tell just yet). The bunk councillors, mostly Americans left on the morning of the 15th, leaving the majority of the Activity Councillors to work when the Alumni came. They all left on the morning of the 18th. I barely held it together when my good friend Aaron, the volleyball councillor, left on the 16th I think it was. I had to go away and cry once he had gone. I kind of broke down when everyone left on the morning of the 18th. It was rushed, and full of quick hugs.

Anyway, on the 22nd I flew down to Miami with Erith, who I worked with for that time. I spent a few days down there, and then I left on the morning of the 26th for home. The thing is, the night before, the majority of us got quite drunk, which I already knew would suck, because it ruins goodbyes completely. People are hungover and recovering, so they aren’t awake at the right times.

So, when the time came for me to leave (I was catching the bus with 3 girls from my hostel room) there were 3 people up, and all I considered myself relatively close to. I said to them, “Well, I’m leaving now.”
“To where?” one asked.
“I’m going home.” I replied.
“Oh.” Silence.
Then I just fucking pushed the initiative, because I could tell none of them really gave a fuck. I told the two Sydney people I’d see them at home, and the British dude who I’ve shared a room with for the entire summer, I gave an awkward hug and said bye.

Then I caught a bus and a plane. Before I left the girls from my hostel room, I got a quick hug, and I got more affection from these girls I’d known for a matter of days, than from the people I’d known for two and a half months. That really broke my heart. All these people I never got to say bye to, and the ones who I actually did, didn’t give a shit. I know nobody really cares about me (with a few notable exceptions), but when nobody even said anything or stood up for a hug, it really hurt. I was leaving America for home, a big deal at the end of camp, and nobody cared. The one who did was asleep and recovering from a hangover. Not her fault, really. I don’t judge her, I just wish she’d been up so I got a hug from someone who cared.

This is what I’ve been thinking about since I got home-the whole “who actually cares” business. It was unfortunate that the person who I was close to at camp, Anthony, was more interested in Skyping his girlfriend than being friends with anyone on camp. He could have made a bigger effort and made more friends, but he didn’t.

I strive to be more than that if I end up returning to camp, which, at the moment, I am really hoping happens. I am saving my tax return for flights, which is a decent amount.

Anyway, enough sadness from me. Time for music and sleep.

I’ve returned from America, and within a week have three permanent shifts at work. Winning!

If I feel it, I might put up a post about camp. Two and a half months of stuff to talk about, but I’ll probably boil it down to some negatives so I can get those out of the way.

I might not, though, because for the last year or more I just haven’t felt like Tumblr much. Eh, less time wasted to scrolling endlessly.


When we joined the Covenant, we took an oath.

On the blood of our fathers, on the blood of our sons, we swore to uphold the Covenant!

Well I knew it would happen at some point, and it did.

oh my god i’m fucking sick of this generation’s mentality that your sadness is beautiful and somebody will fix you and all this fucking john green shit nobody will find you in a bookstore reading bukowski and want to lie with you and nobody will kiss your scars and you will not be like effie and freddie you’ve got to be your own fucking hero and surround yourself with positivity

So an 8 or so year old girl at work asked me out of the blue if I was Catholic, and my unprepared, panicky and immediate response was to reply “I’m awesome!” before fleeing up to the other end of the pool while she proceeded to ask the girl next to her if she was Catholic.
I’m so glad I didn’t let slip one of my most common lines when I’m working: “Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnope!!!”
If I had that would have been super awkward.
Guess I’m now religious. I wonder how many people write their religion as “Awesome” when it comes to census time.


paul s. kemp gives us a deep insight into writing lords of the sith


paul s. kemp gives us a deep insight into writing lords of the sith

I am currently dealing with my failings by listening to folk metal and imagining conversations in my head.






Don’t Be That Guy.

Great campaign! Great point!

signal boosting the shit out of this

you can never NOT reblog this

Always important!

Don’t be that person, whoever you are!

Life isn’t always so predictable. I accidentally smashed my favourite shot glass when I was completely sober. I was cleaning it when it slipped. I guess such things happen when handling wet glass.

But alas, now I need another shot glass with the Imperial insignia on it. =(

I hope the person on Etsy who I got it from sells them individually as well.

Shit happens.

Only one in cinema. Not always so awkward, but it is when you know the guy cleaning everything after a quick changeover of movies. It is the kind of person you knew over a decade ago, and know who each other are (eg facebook friends) but not well enough to acknowledge each other. Every time you encounter this person the same thing happens, making it harder and harder to break the cycle.

Dammit, someone else is now in here. No more singing to the Coldplay coming over the speakers.

I know I have said it many a time, but Porcupine Tree makes me nostalgic. Potentially more so than any other band. Linkin Park always has the potential to take me back to anywhere from Year 6 to the present, but not with the same ferocity as Porcupine Tree.

Porcupine Tree hit me like a brick in the face. I was in the car with my sister and her then bf (now fiance) on the way back from Rouse Hill, after getting a PS2 from his brother on the last day of his job. I was shown Trains and Lazarus, I think, I can’t remember which, but I was shown two songs. After that I had a handful of songs I fell in love with before I got my hands on their (at the time) most recent three albums. It was 2009, Year 11. Now, if I listen to PT, there is always a chance that I will be hit with a nostalgia brick. Often to Jindabyne (especially Arriving Somewhere But Not Here, which I listened to every morning on the way to Blue Cow with Greg) but most often it is just a feeling. Not an emotion, because I doubt that “Year 11” could be called an emotion all by itself. I have a feeling which I associate with both that year and Porcupine Tree, which in mere months climbed to the top of my last.fm list, and with numerous 10+minute songs, almost caught up to Linkin Park and Blink 182, which I’d been listening to for years before, and both feature mostly 3-4 minute songs.

I found that the music connected with my overly-emotional and empty-feeling self. I can now associate it with my failings of that year, my attachments, my denials and my introduction to my vice.

I have not ever fallen so deeply in love with a band in memory in my life. I have quickly become obsessed with bands, but never like this. Now it has its own feeling. The feeling is a mix of emotions, but seeing as I used to be obsessed with nostalgia it is its own trip back in itself, and one I perhaps need to take every now and again to remind myself of who I was, what I was, what I did wrong and how I can better myself.

On a somewhat related note, I ran into someone I have not seen for 3 years, and not spoken to for over 2. It made me very happy, but upon realising that they still want nothing to do with me it made me pretty sad, but I understand why. I only wish I could tell them that.

Here, have some sporadic thoughts

The immensity of the task that is preparing for leaving the country is starting to worry me. My current obstacle is getting my wisdom teeth out. That is next month.
I need to get back into the habit of to-do lists, even if just to try and beat back my mounting paranoia.
Aside from wisdom teeth, renewing my Austswim is a nightmare. Seriously, I’m freaking out about getting my training with babies done. I need to master it and get my certificate before I leave, so essentially this month to make sure I get the certificate before I leave.



Why do people sexualize boobs when we could be doing this with them

i cant stop laughing