thinking since '98

as 2016 comes to a close, it's time to reflect and fully realise what a godawful year it has been. even though i've only been alive for 18 of them, 2016 definitely comes in at the bottom three.

but, when i look back on the year and all the terrible events that have happened globally and in my own life, there's always been one thing that has helped me get through - music. and even though 2016 has been terrible in terms of politics, personal goals and general humanity, it's been frankly splendid in the music world. thus, here (in no particular order) is my completely unqualified and biased opinion on the top 10 albums of 2016:




10. lemonade - beyonce
i'm going to start this list with an obvious one. when beyonce does literally anything the world goes crazy and lemonade was no different. on a superficial level, i'll admit i didn't really get into the music until the second listen as it was an alternative sound from what i'd usually expect from yonce (never thought i'd hear country from queen b like in 'daddy's lessons'). however what really caught my attention was just how empowering lemonade is.

from 'don't hurt yourself' to 'sorry', beyonce's self-assured and blase tones reminded me that i'm a strong, independent young woman that don't take no shit from nobody.  not to mention the social and political issues addressed in 'freedom' or 'formation' - i'm so happy to see beyonce using her status and power to make real change in the world.

of course, you can't talk about lemonade without mentioning the mysterious woman 'with the good hair' otherwise known as one of the best marketing ploys of the year (jay z does own tidal - the service that lemonade is provided on. i can just see them clinking their glasses full of $10000 champagne, lounging in their mansion and laughing as the world scours around for 'becky')

9. know-it-all - alessia cara
2016 was a shitty year for a lot of people, but definitely not for alessia cara. i can't even remember how i heard about the 20 year old singer but i'm glad i did. the naivety and nostalgia of her freshman album quickly became the backing track of my final year of high school as she explored topics like growing up and change - both things that heavily weighed on my mind throughout 2016.

the obvious example is 'seventeen' which i was lucky enough to find while i was still actually seventeen. the [majority] of myself that identifies as an introvert could easily relate to the lyrics of 'here'. and in a time of impossible beauty expectations and body negativity, 'scars to your beautiful' was a much needed reminder to embrace ourselves and every aspect that makes us unique.

while know-it-all spoke a lot about individuality and notions of the self, it was also an album founded on friendship and love. 'wild things', 'outlaws' and 'stars' were just some of the songs that took me back to fleeting moments of laughter and indelible memories with people i love, as well as making me want to run out and make some more. honourable mention to 'how far i'll go', the song alessia did for moana and i have had on repeat - i can't wait to see what she gets up to next.

8. the life of pablo - kanye west
kanye is a lot of things and while i could probably write a whole post debating whose side yeezus is on (of which the answer would most likely end up being himself), i'm not going to do that and instead just focus on the music.

on the surface, the life of pablo was just as uproarious and unapologetic as its creator himself, but i kind of felt like there was a constant underlying tone of desperation coming from a person trying to save the world while still struggling to find his place in it. this is more obvious in 'ultralight beam' or 'famous' but is quickly covered up by kanye pondering what would happen if he got bleach on his t-shirt from a model's bleached asshole.

brownie points though for his ability to make fun of himself in the 'i love kanye' rap which is probably my favourite song on the album.

7. blonde - frank ocean
this one made the list just on the principle that frank ocean finally released his album.

but, besides just the pure novelty of it, i enjoyed the mellow vibes of it all. listening to it kind of felt like a hazy dream, taking me back to late nights and memories forgotten. the little breaks that were 'facebook story' and 'be yourself' were interesting but i'm sure they meant a lot more to frank ocean than they do to me.

6. wild world - bastille
i never really was super into bastille outside of their mainstream hits until i heard their covers in the bbc live lounge (which i highly recommend you check out). so when i saw wild world while perusing the newly added section of spotify, i thought i'd give it a go. obviously, i was not disappointed.

my favourite part of the album is the little voice recordings intertwined into the lyrics and melody. i don't know if they were made for this or are actually authentic from a time long ago, but they were refreshing and added depth to the songs.

i'm going to be honest, even though i've listened to wild world many times and practically know the lyrics to all the songs, i couldn't tell you the name of each individual one off the top of my head. they are a little similar and tend to blend together, but for me that was a good thing - altogether it's a very enjoyable 49 minutes.

5. 24k magic - bruno mars
though it came in at the tail end of 2016, 24k magic is probably the sexiest album i've ever heard. it's funny to think that the fedora-adorned singer of 'grenade' or 'the lazy song' has become this suave, silk-wearing, the definition of cool dude.

initially i thought i had clicked on the wrong thing and was listening to a smooth 90s rnb album, but, nope, 24k magic took those classic sounds, mixed in modern culture and created some killer tunes. listening to this alone in my room makes me feel a lot cooler than i actually am and sends me searching for monopoly money so i can make it rain. the album leaks confidence.

surprisingly though, i'd have to say my favourite track is the classic bruno song about lost love in 'too good to say goodbye'. if a boy sang that to me... ooft.

4. we move - james vincent mcmorrow
the first time i listened to james vincent mcmorrow was actually back when i was obsessed with teen wolf and to satisfy my needs i listened to every song that ever played on the show. amongst the various music capturing teen angst and/or action, was 'look out' from james' post tropical album. later on, after i had come out of my teen wolf phase (sorry dylan o'brien) and 'look out' played during a spotify shuffle session, i decided to check out the rest of his music and was immediately hooked.

we move delivers the same ethereal, falsetto vocals and cheerily haunting lyrics. 'i lie awake every night' has [fittingly] become my wind down song when i can't sleep, as has 'lost angles' and 'surreal'. in fact when it's 3am and my mind is still whirring, we move has become my go-to in slowing everything done. it's ability to make me fall asleep is definitely not a bad thing though - if there's one album that ensures good dreams it's this one.

3. colouring book - chance the rapper
i'm buddhist but colouring book really makes me appreciate what god, jesus and all that means to those that follow that path. from 'blessings' to 'how great', chance's story of redemption and choosing the right decisions really makes me proud that he has achieved so much success - he deserves it. that doesn't stop him from reminiscing like in 'same drugs' but it's obvious that the only direction for him in the future is up.

there's just an overall aura of positivity clouding colouring book - it's a call for friends, family, religion and just how good life can be if you let it. there's also some great jams in 'no problem' or 'angels' but, from the words of chance himself, for me colouring book is a reminder to "don't forget the happy thoughts" and one that i will cherish.

2. "awaken, my love!" - childish gambino
"awaken, my love!" could have just been 30 minutes of a toilet flushing and still would have made the list purely because i love donald glover and literally anything he does. from troy in community, his comedy special weirdo, because of the internet, derrick comedy, the 15 minutes he was in the martian, camp, marshall lee in adventure time, royalty, mystery team, voicing black spider-man, stn mtn/kauai, that time he was in the regular show with tyler, the creator, atlanta (which has quickly become a new obsession) or the 30 seconds he was in the muppet movie, i love him.

having said that, i'm glad "awaken, my love!" was not just a toilet flushing and is actually a lot better.

as has been pointed out a gazillion times since the album's release, childish' latest endeavour is different than anything he's done before. while i would have very much liked to hear him spit even just a couple of bars, his new jazzy and stirring beats held their own and are just one of the many sides of the mastermind.

1. i like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it - the 1975
coming in at one of the most pretentious album titles of the year as well as one of my favourites is the 1975. this british band is loved by alternative teenagers at one stage or another and will always hold a special place in my heart as the first band that i really adored - i spent hours watching interviews, they were the first band i moshed too, they were the background on my phone, i named a cactus after my love, matty healy. and their latest album, without a doubt, was an imperative factor in helping me through 2016.

i actually haven't given it a good, proper listen in a long time and now as i play it while writing this all the feelings are coming back. the nostalgia, the shallow nature of modern society, the hidden internal struggle in all of us, the desperation to be somebody in this world, missing a nana i never knew.

the only criticism i have is that the titular track reminds me of the jingle in an advertisement for an australian phone company and so whenever it plays i always become mildly confused as to why my spotify premium is playing ads. other than that, i like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it is not only the opinion of a creepy stalker but also one of my favourite albums of the year and all time.


in conclusion, the plot of 2016 was pretty crappy, the cinematography subpar. however, the soundtrack was pretty damn good.

a list by a disappointed person

1. give yourself a moment or two to fully absorb the reality of what has happened. build a cocoon and don't leave until you can wrap your head around the situation and thus be able to become a pretty butterfly (more on that later). however, make sure you're accepting the reality and

2. don't make excuses. from the words of veronica roth, "human reason can excuse any evil". this thing has happened and that is it. don't pass the blame. don't be in denial. and don't obsess over absurd fantasies where a wizard in a billowing trench coat will magically appear, tell you there's been a mistake and wave his fancy wand to make everything how you wanted it to be. or at least something along those lines. because i can tell you with 99.9% certainty that's not going to happen. instead you should

3. accept that, in this moment, this is where you are at. it's real and it sucks but this is what you have. believe me, i know how disheartening how it is to work at something and expect so much only for it all to be for nothing. but this is it. this is happening. this is your foundation from where you will

4. move on. there's nothing you can do now accept pick yourself up, dust yourself off and turn the page onto the next chapter. maybe you're a little bit behind from where you wanted to be, but that's okay because, eventually, you can catch up because you're going to

5. work harder. do better. this is a life lesson and if disney channel shows have taught me anything, it's to learn from your mistakes. run into the future but don't forget the past. make sure you never feel this horrid feeling again. though, know that

6. if you really want it to, everything will be okay in the end.

i know i'm late to the party so i'm going to keep this short and sweet (edit: my bad): after the excruciating wait to finish exams, i finally read harry potter and the cursed child. during the period where i couldn't experience jk rowling's new book play script for myself, my anticipation quickly turned to worry as i saw all the other potter fans in the world gorge themselves on it and come out the other end sad and disappointed. the worst part was when my friends that had already read it and knew how excited i was, advised me to spare myself from the horror and not even read it at all.

obviously i was never not going to read something that queen rowling wrote, but i did substantially lower my expectations. and thus, as is my life's motto, when you expect nothing, you're never disappointed.



i agree that the whole thing seemed very much like fan-fiction which was disheartening, but i think it's important to remember that the intended purpose of the script is for a performance, and therefore it was always going to be prone to theatrical elements and dialogue that distanced hpatcc from its source material in terms of quality and sincerity, plainly because it's a different art form. and i'm sure if i'd actually watched the play i'd be singing a different song right now. in comparison to the films, the special effects would have been different as would the music. for me, daniel radcliffe will always be harry, emma watson will always be hermione, rupert grint will always be ron and so on and so forth. therefore, i was always picturing the people we saw in the last scene of deathly hallows part 2 as i read hpatcc and at some points i could barely imagine the words on the page coming out of their mouths. but the play obviously had different actors, and i feel like that really cements the 'spin-off' aspect of hpatcc. though i was thrilled to see hermione played by a woman of colour, hpatcc will never be exactly on par as its predecessor.

however, the concept was really interesting. cedric's death will always be a great tragedy amongst the wizarding world and though, for me, it marks the beginning of the darkness that progressively thickens in the next three novels, they don't spend a lot of time really taking in what his death signifies. in harry's defence, he did have a dark lord to defeat, but i think that it's great that hpatcc explores the different timelines of what could have been.

i also enjoyed seeing the golden trio + draco's children and the parallels they share (or don't) with their parents. but, if i'm being honest, they're not the reason i was so eager to read hpatcc despite my friends and the internet's warnings.



i was always intrigued by the where are they now details that hpatcc offered, and in that vein i wasn't disappointed. i just wanted to know if after all the war and pain that my beloved characters experienced, they were okay. it was the same reason why i watched legend of korra - just to see what my babies from the last airbender were up to. however, though lok turned out to be unbelievably, insanely, fabulously amazing and i can't honestly say the same about hpatcc, i did appreciate the depth that it provided to the harry potter universe.

having said that, i will never forgive jk rowling for the absolute mess that is voldemort day UNTIL she writes a novella on the dark lord himself implementing the aforementioned 'holiday' around the world because oh my god i'm still laughing.

turning 18 in australia opens quite a few doors. you're an adult. you can vote. you can get your probationary licence. you can enter strike bowling after 9pm.

you can also legally drink and go clubbing and, with a wave of the magical key that is my id, that is what i did a couple of nights ago.

before i turned 18,  i was excited by the prospect of clubbing merely because all it required was to have a good time - criteria that i was okay with working for. as my friends turned 18 before me, i saw glimpses of the night life in fleeting snapchats and drunk facebook statuses. i couldn't wait to join them and finally experience all the hype.

to me, it just seemed like a party but instead of buying a present, you paid an entry fee. and i liked parties. that is, until i actually went clubbing and i remembered what happened at every party: i liked getting the invite, i liked the anticipation, i liked getting ready. and then, when i was actually at the party, i always wanted to go home. and clubbing was no different.

wait, no. it's definitely worse.

because at parties there's a sense of familiarity and belonging - the host invited you and you probably had a few friends there. but anyone with $20 and an id with a close enough looking face and a birth date before 1998 can get into a club.

let's do a run-through of the night. i went out with my friends after our valedictory. the night already started off a little suspicious when we were waiting for our uber at the petrol station near the reception centre and a man tried to pick us up because he thought we were prostitutes but luckily when he asked how old we were and we promptly replied too young for him, he nodded and drove off, yelling back at us that he actually had a wife anyways.

on the whole, our friends and i were a bit on the shy side so we knew that we would have to be a little wasted to have a good time. however, time and location constraints meant we had to dash into a beer, skull a jug of gross beer that did absolutely nothing to our blood alcohol levels, before heading off to the club.

once we got there, we had to wait in a line with the rest of the nobodies, watching the 'vips' kiss the bouncers on the cheek as they welcomed them through the red rope. as we waited, i was cold, tired, and genuinely couldn't be fucked. all i could think about was the cheesy ebook i had on my kindle that i was currently reading and how i would much rather be in bed reading it.

eventually we were let in, and to say that it was jarring going from the quiet night and cool breeze in the line to the throbbing bass and way too packed room in the club is a large understatement. my friends and i mutually decided that we were definitely not drunk enough to enter the mob, so we headed to the bar where we paid way too much money for tequila shots that were watered down anyways so, once again, they did nothing. with a sense of mild defeat, we joined what could loosely be described as a dance-floor but was much rather a glorified version of those trucks that transport cattle or sheep in that it was crowded and claustrophobic and just an overall travesty.

i'm not going to go into detail about the following three or so hours i spent in there but here's the gist: i had enough body contact to last me a lifetime and, even among the masses, i had never felt so exposed.

then there's the 'sexual tension'. what a joke. from talking to my experienced friends, i expected that guys would try to grind on you or grope you or whatever other physical contact they could get on private parts (yours or theirs). i wasn't naive. but, here's the thing. when you're not getting grinded on, you feel horrible about yourself because it means that no one is interested or you're not attractive. then, when you are getting grinded on - which happened - you just want them to get off and fuck off. i constantly felt judged from every angle and i hated it.

i'll say one thing though - the club had really good music. chance the rapper, childish gambino, kendrick, frank ocean. it was all the music i usually listened and danced to in the shower and i think i'm going to save them for just in there. however, i doubt that my first clubbing experience will also be my last. i only just turned 18. but to past dinushka, chill, clubbing really isn't that great.

at least, when you're sober it's not.

exams are over. school is over. routine is over. childhood is over.

now is the beginning.

i've been so focused on everything that is ending in these past few weeks that i've completely disregarded everything that is about to start. yesterday was my first day of the holidays that were thirteen years in the making. though they're not really holidays; they're a bridge between the known and the unknown. comfort and the great expanse. they're blank memories and experiences waiting to be filled. they're going to be the best three months of eighteen years.

as an ambitious procrastinator, my motto is 'if you don't have expectations, you can't be disappointed'. so maybe i'm setting myself up for failure. but how can i fail having fun and writing and exploring and learning? hanging out with friends and laughing and watching and growing? how can i fail living?

because that's what these three months will be. and, yeah, in between there will be a few days of waking up at 2pm and hibernating in summer. but as long as i'm in a constant state of self-pleasure, i really don't care. is that selfish? i don't think so, because i'm hoping selflessness will show itself along the way.

last post i said i wanted to pause, but now i'm ready to press play. which brings me to the point of this: i want to capture these experiences as best as i can and share them with those who want to know that somewhere, out there, a girl is having a grand time. maybe you're just looking for some vicarious happiness, or maybe you'll be doing the same thing and our lives will run parallel through the immortal nature of summer. if so, here's some shameless self-promotion!

i'm really hoping that i can utilise my newfound spare time to create, whether it be in personal projects but more so on this blog. i initially made thinking since 98 during one of the most important times in my high school career as an outlet for procrastination and in itself it became another thing for me to procrastinate. however, i'm going to stop being a lazy piece of shit (famous last words, i know) so expect some exciting new content!

which reminds me to remind you about the 98 thinkers project that you can find out all about right here! i really want to make this become a thing and i'll be scouring the creative universe for 98ers to participate!

i would also love for you to check out my instagram @akhsunid (or, as you might have noticed, you can find on my sidebar because technology is amazing) and indulge me and my innate need for attention.

in conclusion, i'm excited for what's to come and i hope you are too!! xx

so as it might/might not be apparent, the last few posts have been just some drafts that have been hanging around in my folders i've staggered out to make it look like i'm active when really i've been quite negligent in the blogging world. but, in a surprising twist, i actually have a valid reason for ignoring maintenance and am not just procrastinating because i am a lazy piece of shit. instead it's exam time over here in victoria - the moment of truth. if i'm being truly honest, i can't say i have a valid reason for procrastinating my studying like i'm doing right now but, hey, no one's perfect. also, i usually don't like being really personal here as i find straight-out baring my emotions a lot easier in the covers of my notebook that i know no one will see, but i figured i'd kill two birds with one stone: (a) vent & (b) explain my past and future absence.

i officially graduated from school about two weeks ago and yet it still hasn't really sunk in. twelve years i've spent going to the same place (after a brief stint at a local primary school). even though i only missed out on prep with my classmates, i still always kind of felt like the new kid, and it wasn't until the last few days that, in waves of nostalgia, we flicked through old photos and memories that i've realised that i grew up with these people. from awkward side-fringes to growth spurts to the acne that still taunts my face, i've done it with the vast majority of the these people that, come next month, i will probably never see again.

if i was not at school, i was on holidays, and if i was on holidays, i was just doing time until i would eventually have to go back to school. school has been all i've known until now (you can't count infancy, no one remembers shit during infancy). it's so easy to say that school sucks. the evidence is there in homework and rules and conformity. but i am truly going to miss the community that i've become so comfortable over the past twelve years. as shitty a day i could have been having, i was always comforted by the thought that right here, right now, i was where i was supposed to be. granted, it's government-mandated, but i knew i belonged - my parents paid the fees. and now i realise how truly lucky i was to go to the school i went to. academically we might not have been the best, but at least we were friends. teachers, students, ups and downs, we were a family. huh, i guess i can't say 'we' anymore.

in other news, in exactly 24 minutes from this moment i will be 18 years old. an adult. i can vote. i can get my license. i can [legally] drink. am i ready? hell no. 23 minutes.

but the list doesn't end there. a couple of months, i was helping out at the annual career expo my school holds every year. there, i met a lady from a renowned university interstate. she told me about a scholarship. i applied.

the whole application process happened across a week from when i even heard about the offer so my reasons for applying were pretty hasty. if i'm being honest, i think my imagination clouded my better judgement. moving away from home after high school was what i'd grown up seeing in movies and tv shows shipped out from hollywood. it was the american dream. but it was not the norm from where i come from. my brother graduated from school two years ago and everyone in his year level still live where they did two years ago. here. and, if i'm being honest, i secretly hoped i wouldn't get it because then the decision would be made for me. i could stay in the place i knew, doing the things i always did, having said i 'tried my best' and everything would be okay.

i received a call today. i received the scholarship.

things are going too fast right now. the exam period started on wednesday and my first exam is next week. but it still hasn't hit me that this is the end. i've been 17 for 364 days, but it still hasn't hit me that in fifteen minutes i'm 18. i've been growing up, but it still hasn't hit me that i've grown.

in video games, when things are getting crazy, you can pause. take a break. take a breath. and continue.

well, things are getting crazy right now. but i just can't find the pause button.

she woke up, heart racing, ready to run
into the forest, hidden from the sun
there she met fairies dressed in petals and gold
and a story about a fire-breathing dragon they told
but she left them to don on astronaut attire
so she could float between the stars and the sun afire
before tumbling back to earth with its oceans and cities
to run away from spies through backstreets and alleys
she met the love of her life, with the most beautiful smile in the world
but he only had eyes for another brave girl
though she was okay with that, no really, it's true
because she had an entire universe to rescue

and then she took another book from the shelf.

this throwback is a bit more sombre. it's actually a piece i wrote for a competition a couple of years ago but you had to pay to be shortlisted and little broke kid me wasn't up for that. so here it is, enjoy:

He told me to observe, so I did. I sat on the park bench just as the sky was turning into that pink-orange haze that looks supernatural, and I watched.

On the playground next to me, kids ran gleefully repeating the same cycle over and over again. Up the ladder, through the tunnel, down the slide and repeat. It didn’t matter how many times they did it, each one was better than the last.

The road nearby was filled with people doing a different kind of pattern. Wakeup, work, sleep and repeat. They didn’t look as excited as the kids. It didn’t seem like each day was better than the last. I hoped they were happy.

Above me, birds flew in a v-formation. It looked like they were going to war. Little winged soldiers leaving their wives and babies worried in nests far away. I wondered what they would be trying to achieve through fighting. Maybe they’d battle for a piece of the sky they could much more easily share. I didn’t know.

The path was filled with couples strolling hand-in- hand basking in each other’s company and the late sun’s rays. They walked lazily, taking in their surroundings. Next to them, people ran – oblivious to the beauty that was so close – with one purpose. Eye’s on the prize.

Down at the beach, a little girl worked diligently building a castle out of the soft, silky sand. Her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth, her blond curls dancing in the wind, as her little hands patted the sand into place. Just as she sat back proudly to admire her handiwork, a wave rolled in and snatched it away in seconds leaving her with mud and tears.

The wave retreated back to its home in the ocean only to be kicked back out to the shore. The ocean glimmered like broken glass, a sleeping monster for now. It stayed while everything around it constantly changed. I speculated about out how many stories it held, how many places the water had been. It could have gone everywhere but not. Nevertheless, the water continued to sway back and forth, back and forth.

And as the sun continued to fall slowly, the night owls started to awake. The alcoholics stirred, getting ready to turn their blood into liquor and wash away their past of regrets and shame for another night. I wondered what hurt them. They used alcohol like a Band-Aid to protect themselves for awhile but I guess eventually all Band-Aid’s had to get ripped off, right? I wished their pain could be healed.

I sat on that park bench for one whole minute, but eventually I had to move on. So I walked away without leaving a trace, while the world still continued to turn.

(born in 1998 and have a voice to share with the world? click here to find out how you can be heard!)

over at sailing through books, she runs a great monthly meme called "wifsy" that you can find out all about here (while you're there, check out her reviews - i've added many a book to my to-be-read because of her!). basically the gist of it is judging a book by its cover, so i've decided to give it a go this month with the hundred lies of lizzie lovett by chelsea sedoti and i am very excited to fail miserably!



my synopsis:
my palms are sweating and my heart beats erratically like it's trying to escape from its cage. the curse echoes through my mind for the umpteenth time: "you have a hundred lies, lizzie lovett, and a hundred only. use them wisely." in my sixteen years of living, i've already used 23 of my theoretical get-out-of-jail-free cards and once again i find myself dangling on the precipice between honesty and deception.

would it be so bad if they knew the truth? it would blow over in a week - it always does. it would be okay. i would be okay.

i opened my mouth, ready to bare my soul, but his steely gaze trapped the words in my throat. what was i doing? the truth, lizzie, say the truth.

oh, dammit.

"i didn't eat the cake!" i blurted out and i felt my insides deflate. 24 lies down.

the real synopsis:
a teenage misfit named hawthorn creely inserts herself in the investigation of missing person lizzie lovett, who disappeared mysteriously while camping with her boyfriend. hawthorn doesn't mean to interfere, but she has a pretty crazy theory about what happened to lizzie. in order to prove it, she decides to immerse herself in lizzie's life. that includes taking her job... and her boyfriend. it's a huge risk - but it's just what hawthorn needs to find her own place in the world.

conclusion:
close enough

do you ever just want to restart?
hold power button to turn off, no i don't want to save.
back to when your skin had never been touched by lotion or cheap perfume.
back to when your knees had never been scarred from crawling between trees.
back to when your head had never been filled with these treacherous thoughts.
before you built the social web that now tangles you up so you can't move.
before you chose to do this or that or go right or left.
before you ended up here.
yeah, me too.

i never understood how people can be so obvious about their pain.
how they wear sadness on their face as bold as a bloodstain.
their movements lethargic and their shoulders turned down.
i never understood how they could so easily frown.
aren't you supposed to hide that all from the outside world?
keep it bottled up inside you, leave it in your stomach to swirl?
put a smile on your face and speak in uppercase,
take up only pleasantness and joy in your space
because how dare i think my feelings matter?
that i'm important enough to dull the chatter?
i'm only one among so many billions and more
why should i deem myself too cardinal to ignore?
so i lock my misery up and throw the key away
and then i wonder why no one asks me if i'm okay.

clouds are so weird. they're just these giant bundles of fluff way way up high.
i mean, obviously there's a science behind them and their existence can be explained with two dollar words like vaporisation and orographic forcing, but to me they honestly don't even look real - they look like a painting of the sky by the gods where their hands slipped and the paint spilled onto the canvas but it's okay because sometimes accidents are the best kind of art.
when the world around you is constantly moving, the clouds aren't. cars are rushing to your right, people running to your left, and you're caught up in the race. but then you look up and the clouds are just still, watching down on it all.
it isn't until you stop moving and everything around you freezes that you realise the clouds are moving too. and you realise that they have places to go and things to see. and you realise that they're not going to be there forever. and you realise what a bummer time is.

side note: i also posted this on my commaful account which you can check out here

i can cross rivers and climb mountains with energy to spare
i can explore oceans and lift boulders like they're barely even there
but give me a social excursion or a two hour dinner
and suddenly i understand how bears can sleep through winter
my cheeks hurt from smiling that superficial smile
in an attempt to make others think their gossip is worthwhile
but that doesn't compare to my thoroughly exhausted brain
who would rather drown in its own fluids than say "oh no, he didn't" again
days and days of peace and quiet
and now i'm thrust in the middle of the riot
so i run as soon as i can to the solitude of my room
hoping the serenity will once again resume
i close my eyes and am surrounded with silence

but the noise in my head doesn't stop.

by mia at chaotic tales

i've always had a fascination with all the other people born in 1998. we've been alive for the same amount of time - give or take a few months - but lead entirely different lives. i'll admit, i can be a bit petty when i see people my age who are successful and doing amazing things like amandla stenberg, jaden smith or ariel winter while i'm sitting here with my proudest achievement being i watched the entirety of friday night lights in like a week. and don't even get me started on people who are younger than me that are already taking on the world. but, i digress.

i think from the moment i conceived the idea of having my little baby that is thinking since '98, i wanted it to be a collaborative space - a beacon for everyone born in the latter year of the earth tiger and an opportunity for us all to share our art and our words. so now i'm calling on you, 98ers, to show every other year who's boss.

it's simple: send me your stories, your poems, your thoughts, your drawings, your grocery lists, your anything to thinkingsince98@gmail.com with your name, country, date of birth and any blog/social media you want me to include and i will share them with the world fortnightly (i'm not going to lockdown a specific day yet because if there's one thing i know about myself, it's that i suck at consistency). and there's only a few rules:
1. you must be born in 1998. i hope that one was obvious. is that considered ageism? sorry.
2. nothing offensive or discriminatory please. profanity is fine as long as it's justifiable. i get it. people swear. shit happens.
3. word limit is approximately 500 words but i understand if your creative juices are flowing and the brakes become a bit slippery so if it's longer, still send it through and i'll see what i can do.
4. where possible include at least one of your own pictures so your post will have a cover photo otherwise i will have to make one and i'm lazy so not including one will just prolong your submission's opportunity to see the light of day.
5. it can be something you've posted somewhere else before: if you don't mind, i don't mind.
6. a post about the '98 thinkers' project or even a mention or link on any of your blogs/social media would be great to get the word out there as it would not only help me, but it will also help you in letting your voice be heard across the void.

i hope this works and i hope to hear from you soon. let the minds of the children of '98 shine.

p.s. if you have room on your blog to chuck on  little '98 thinkers' button below i would be eternally grateful!!

the candle swayed, dancing with the sound waves produced by the other conversations the other couples were having on the other tables. valentine's day - the restaurants busiest night. as well as his.

date #3 was in the bathroom after she excused herself with a sly grin to powder her nose or whatever it was that girls did in there. he was glad for the break though; his muscles still ached from his afternoon with date #2, not to mention the tumble in the morning with date #1. but that was all just child's play. now it was crunch time. happy hour had just begun and with two more dates to go tonight, he was open for business. speaking of:

his phone buzzed. as a precautionary measure, he always placed his phone screen down while on dates, just in case the generic caller id in the form of mum, boss, doctor or bank didn't come through. the timing was pleasing - with his current date away from the table he was free to answer the call. he picked up his phone and glanced at the name before clicking answer. nephew. it was date #4.

"hey,"  he said, lowering his voice to the sultry register that made dogs stand to attention and girls melt.

"hey yourself," she replied. "really looking forward to tonight."

"mmmm, me too."

"i can barely wait and since yoga class finished early i was wondering, what are you doing now?"

for a moment he was mildly distracted by the thought of yoga and the different positions he wanted to try, but he quickly snapped back to attention. he decided to use the easiest lie in his arsenal. ladies loved a hardworking man, especially ones with a stable career, and would definitely understand if he was 'stuck in the office and the only thing getting me through is knowing that i'm going to see you soon, gorgeous'. he opened his mouth to work his magic and said, "i'm on a date."

"excuse me?" she laughed nervously, assuming he was joking around and, though he wanted to punch himself in the face for nearly ruining a perfectly planned night, he snatched at that opportunity to save himself.

"haha, haven't you heard of a joke? i'm-" he stopped when he noticed date #3 emerge from the bathroom. as she weaved between tables, eyes locked on him like an avid bird watcher to a kakapo, he tried to come up with his next cover. i'm at the office, he would say, and the boss is coming by so i gotta go. i'll pick you up at eight. yes, that would work. he mentally prepared his lines but his mouth had different plans.

"yeah, i'm on a date," he said. "with another girl and she's coming back now so i have to go. i'll pick you up at eight." he hung up the phone to date #4's spluttered cries.

though he was very much shook up from the absolute freak accident that just occurred, he slipped on his most charming smile for date #3. even olympians have off days, he reminded himself and focused on his current trophy.

"sorry, you wouldn't believe the queue," she laughed as she slid back into her chair. "so, where were we?"

as she leaned in closer to him across the table, a strand of perfectly curled blonde hair spilled out from behind her ear. he reached over to wrap it slowly around his finger, her eyes watching him like he was a hypnotist and she was completely under his spell.

"well," he crooned, "i'm picking up another girl in about thirty minutes so i was just going to take you back to my car for a quickie and then dump you by a bus stop or something to find your way home, alright?"

she shot back into her seat and her jaw hung fascinatingly close to her exposed cleavage. "also," he continued, words falling out like a fatal avalanche, "if you can pay for dinner that would be fantastic. i mean, you did eat half the menu."

he smiled at her seductively. she was not returning the expression which was unusual for him. instead, she picked up the glass full of the most expensive wine the restaurant had to offer (he momentarily recalled the internal cringe he experienced when she ordered it) and threw it straight into his face.

"ASSHOLE!" she yelled and stormed off to the shocked faces of the other diners.

his testosterone-controlled brain scrambled to comprehend what had just happened as the wine rolled down his defined cheekbones and slipped past his lips. the opulent taste pooled under his tongue and he fought to not spit it out - he'd always been a beer guy himself. he didn't need to glance down at his favourite white shirt to know that it was stained blood-red, giving him the appearance of a man who had just left a massacre. he was very confused.

the waitress came forward with a towel to clean up the mess. he recognised her. she was young, probably a student working off debts. he frequented this restaurant often with dates and she was usually here. however, this time, rather than scoffing at his lies from behind the host stand, she only looked at him with immense pity. he glared back at her until a thought softened his gaze. but it was only a myth. an old wive's tale. it couldn't be.

oh no.

he was going to die next week.

(writing prompt: in the week before their death, people cannot tell a lie or omit information)
(born in 1998 and have a voice to share with the world? click here to find out how you can be heard!)

okay so i was searching through my computer for a file i needed to work on when, oh no what a shame, i was completely distracted by other old documents i found including this masterpiece from back in year 10 literature. we were studying oedipus and were supposed to write a creative piece based on the play with complete free rein on how we went about doing it. nevertheless, i have no clue what was going on in fifteen year old dinushka's brain that made me write this. i honestly can't believe i handed this in, it's amazing. enjoy:

The night swallowed everything up in darkness to the point that you couldn’t see your hand if it was five centimetres in front of your eyes. But, MAN HAD FIRE! So the guards’ expressionless faces were lit by the flickering shadows of the burning embers.

Nothing moved in the seemingly never-ending pitch black. These guards had pulled the short straw. When you’re young and you say you ‘want to be a guard of Thebes when you grow up’, it’s not because you want leg cramps and to hear your own breathing for five hours straight. You want to catch thieves and stop murders. But who could be bothered with crime during the graveyard shift?

Finally, one of their stoic facades broke:

“Hey. Pssssst. Heeeeeeey.” One of the guards whisper-shouted to his partner.

The other guard seemed like he was embracing the belief that if you ignore something long enough, it will go away.

“Hey. HeY. HEY.”

It wasn’t working.

“Oi. I’m talking to you. Gimme attention.”

No response.

“Talk to me, I’m so bored. Oh my Apollo, are you mute?”

Eventually the other guard glared at him, irritably. “What?”

“HE SPEAKS!” After throwing his hands in the air dramatically, the first guard leant on his spear casually. “My name’s Andreas but my friends call me Dre.”

“Okay, Andreas. Shut up.”

“Sheesh, someone’s got an olive branch up their butt.” Andreas examined his nails, unfazed. “What are you even worried about? No one is going to bother doing anything here. This place is a wreck! What with the plague and the famine. I mean, if you’re going to rob somewhere at least make it worth the effort.”

“Please stop talking.”

“Also, did you hear about what’s going on inside the walls?” Andreas continued, ignoring him completely. “Talk about a freak in the bedroom, our majestic king is pretty kinky. Sleeping with his mum.” He shuddered. “How’d he even end up on the throne? He gets rid of one sphinx and his got everyone wrapped around his finger. Well, jokes on them I guess.”

Andreas chuckled before his face grew wistful. “You know what this reminds me of?”

“Nope.”

“Lions. Like in a pride. You wanna know why?”

“I really don’t care.”

“So there’s only one dude in the pride, right? The lion king. That means that when another guy lion is born, to become king he essentially has to kill his dad. And you know there’s one lioness that’s like the top dog – the king’s favourite honey. She’s got all the other lionesses gossiping about her during the daily zebra hunt because the king won’t make her get her own food. Basically, she’s the queen. So when the new dude lion kills the king, he then by default ends up ‘marrying’ the queen lioness or whatever it is lions do. Sniff each other’s butts? Nah, wait, I think that’s dogs.” Andreas’ face had become more enigmatic and the flickering fire revealed glimpses of his animated eyes glinting. “Now, if you just substitute our favourite messed-up royal family for the lions you’ve got one mighty fine metaphor. There’s Laius, the king of nothing now ‘cause he’s, you know, dead. Then dear, sweet Jocasta who busted the myth that mothers can recognise their sons anywhere unless that myth is actually true which would be wrong on so many other levels. And finally Thebes’ golden boy Oedipus. I’m not even going to go there.”

“So what do you think?” Andreas looked at the other guard with his chin resting precariously on the tip of his spear. “Am I right, or am I right?”

“Whatever you say.”

“C’mon broseidon. I worked hard on this theory – critique me, my body is ready.”

“It was great.”

“Suuuuure.” Andreas dumped his spear and walked up to his controlled partner. “I know you have thoughts.” He poked his cheek. “There’s a little opinion in there waiting to get out. Hit me with your best one, big man.”

“No thank you.”

“You’re not going to get out of this, you little Dionysus.” Andreas grabbed the other guard’s face between his hands as he smiled up at him. And, boy, did he have to smile up because the other guy was at least a head or even two taller than him. If Andreas was a stick, his colleague was a hundred-year old olive tree made up of lots and lots of sticks. He was big.

“Please tell me. Pretty please. Pretty please with a dry fig on top.”

“No.”

“I will actually pay you to give me your opinion. I don’t have a lot but I know this great robe tailor down in-”

“Oh, Apollo, fine.” The guard sighed, exasperated. “I think what happened to Oedipus’ was a great tragedy. His inability to acknowledge who he was and therefore his lack of self-knowledge was a fatal flaw to his overall character. Also, the fact that his pride and ignorance metaphorically blinded him to the truth that once revealed actually blinded him is unbelievably ironic. Tiresias may have been the actual blind one but he was also the only one that could see what was really going on, despite Oedipus’ stubbornness and refusal. What happened to Oedipus raises the question for all of us on whether we are all searching to ‘kill our fathers and marry our mothers’ in some way or form, though it doesn’t have to be as explicit as Oedipus’ example itself. Essentially though, it shows that trying to outrun or avoid fate will prove futile because everything will always play out as it was said it will.”

Andreas studied the other guard carefully before he shook his head and said, “Nah, man. I’m telling you – it’s just like lions.”

“I-”

“Whatever, I gotta go pee.” Andreas abandoned his post, leaving his perplexed and insecure associate alone to think in front of the towering walls of Thebes.

(born in 1998 and have a voice to share with the world? click here to find out how you can be heard!)

i know i'm late to the party but, hey, the party don't start until the cripplingly awkward socialite walks in, amiright? anyways, better late than never because i had absolutely no idea what i was missing before i had discovered the glistening treasure trove that is webcomics.

i love comics and graphic novels just as much as the next 5 minute geek. i've gone from short newspaper reads like garfield and calvin and hobbes to more longer series like scott pilgrim and amulet. i enjoy comic spin-offs of my favourite tv shows like avatar: the last airbender, adventure time and bravest warriors. and i've made my feelings about the archie comics very clear here. overall, i appreciate being able to read books with pictures that aren't just meant for children.

but i also tend to buy a lot of comics before i actually read them which means each purchase goes through a rigorous background check to make sure they're money well spent. also, i recently [had the best day of my life when i] quit my part-time job to concentrate on school and i'm absolutely outraged to find out that the depths of my savings apparently does have an end. i know, i know, libraries have buttloads of comics and books and they're all free!! but, you see, libraries require moving myself to a different location and i am lazy. why should i walk like 15 minutes to my local library when i can just reach out from the cave of blankets that i currently reside in, to grab my laptop and order books online that will come to the place where i already am? i am very grateful to be born during the era that i have been and i feel the best way to demonstrate that gratitude is by utilising the modern technology of my time to barely do shit all. and it's from that philosophy that my discovery stemmed.

flash forward to a couple of weeks ago when i was cheerily scrolling through my instagram feed, silent tears rolling down my face as i poured over fit bodies and healthy lifestyles that i would never get my indolent body to possess, when i saw one of the bookstagram accounts i follow mention a webcomic they were reading called omg check please. i stored the name in the back of my brain for future reference and - to my surprise - i remembered it a few days ago when it was around 1:30am and i was too tired to sleep (interesting how this memory doesn't come into play when i'm trying to recall something from school hmmm).

i had never read a webcomic before and i was wholeheartedly expecting some black and white pencil sketches accompanied by cheesy captions filled with grammatical errors on a tumblr blog with a tacky theme and the title, 'welcome to my twisted mind'. what i was not expecting was what i got, and that was a really really well done comic.

at first i didn't think i was going to be very interested in omg check please because a) it was about hockey and b) i didn't know anything about hockey except that it is a c) sport and d) i don't like sports. though, as friday night lights is currently teaching me, i know i shouldn't jump to conclusions (more on that later) (probably).

and i'm glad i did give ocp a go because i'm actually enjoying it. the art is very appealing and the dialogue is really funny - like laugh out loud funny. i was also very pleased that it had an lgbtq protagonist as well as culturally diverse characters. plus, the little hockey tidbits throughout the comic came in handy for noobs like me who at first couldn't even fully appreciate the pun in the name because i didn't even know what checking was.

it wasn't hard to quickly become up-to-date on ocp but while i waited for the next update, i was hungry to satiate my webcomic-fix. so i decided to hit up my bff google and let's just say my cravings won't be reappearing anytime soon. in the past week i devoured luke pearson's short stories and annihilated what was available online in nimona. i'm currently reading octopus pie and i'm loving every second i spend with my sardonic and organic girl. admittedly i did have to scour through a bit of smut here and there to find a comic worth sticking to, but who doesn't love some lame reads that make you scoff and groan in between the actually good work? if anything, the comparison made me appreciate the webcomics i read even more.

so i guess the moral of this post is that money is not proportionate to quality and once again, the internet has me worshipping the metaphysical ground it walks upon as i am not surprised to be surprised at the riches it contains.

(born in 1998 and have a voice to share with the world? click here to find out how you can be heard!)

last night i went to a friend's 18th and things got a little bit crazy to say the least. and by 'crazy' i mean of the alcoholic persuasion.

i don't remember the exact moment when the parties i went to with people from my year level stopped being pass the parcel and started being shots shots shots but it is what it is now. technically, i'm not allowed to drink. my parents are brown and asian so i'm expecting that rule not to change until i'm 30. at least. but the concoction of rebellion mixed with thudding music and pack mentality as well as just being a good ol' fashioned dumb teenager means forged permission notes at 6:30pm, jagermeister burning down my throat at 8pm and quickly trying to sober up at 11:30pm. i know its stupid but, again, it is what it is now.

last night's celebrations was for a girl part of the upper class in our grade's social hierarchy. i'm not gonna try and pretend cliques and popularity aren't a thing in high school and, sorry middle schoolers, they probably will be for a long time to come. but they also mean that the party circle i'm invited to involve practically the same groups of people every time which also means that most parties follow the same routine. you know who's going to hook up. you know who's going to be crying. you know who's going to be the centre of attention. you know who's going to be in all the photos. naturally it can all become boring and derivative. that is, unless you have your drunk goggles on which is what i did last night.

at first when i sat down to write this post i wanted to do one of those angsty poems about alcoholism and superficialness and how amidst the haze of lethargic movements and lack of filter you see a person for who they really are deep inside. i wanted to write something that would fit amongst the 1975 lyrics or have aesthetic tumblr accounts scrambling for the reblog button. except, for me, that's not what drinking was.

i mean, it was fun. i was buzzing on a confidence boost with only one goal: party. gone was my usual crippling sense of self-consciousness and self-awareness. i did not give a single, flying fuck what anyone else thought of me. though, if there's one thing i remember from last night, it's that i'm pretty sure i looked like a complete moron. but i was a moron who was having harmless fun so that's all good with me. i had no inhibitions and i didn't get caught which altogether equals a great night.

by no means am i encouraging underage drinking or saying that you need alcohol to have a good time. you do you and you do you responsibly. besides, rule number one when dinushka goes drinking is do not throw up. that fear of puking and having the most sacred part of my body penetrated by the half-digested contents of my stomach (my mouth is where i taste food and thus it is the temple that i worship) ensures i cut myself off before anything becomes too hectic. what i think i'm trying to say is that not everything is deep and meaningful and reflects the inner-workings of humanity. sometimes it's just pure, mindless fun.

(born in 1998 and have a voice to share with the world? click here to find out how you can be heard!)

the past few days have been the best of my life and it's all because of pokémon go.

from the moment i heard that pokémon go could possibly be a thing, i've been more excited than a labrador who's seen a tennis ball (which is to say pretty well excited). i waited to pounce on every update. i read all the articles and news that came out. and i told everyone that even though this is my last year of high school, the second pokemon go comes out it will be my number one priority.

so i was most definitely not expecting that for the first time since the dawn of time - instead of being excluded by region - that pokémon go would be hitting australian phones first. and, boy, do i regret not starting my holiday homework last week.

i woke up on wednesday at the normal, everyday time of 12:22pm only to open my phone and be bombarded by notifications and messages and snaps. i quickly clicked on the nearest one and immediately snapped out of my sleep-ridden stupor - wednesday was the day.

i didn't even think as i swiped my way to the app store, heart pounding as the little pokéball icon downloaded onto my homepage. a smile spread on my face of its own accord as i prepared to finally experience my dreams. i was beyond thrilled. and i was just about to open the app when the most annoying, puny little voice piped up in my head. i remembered that i had an important tutor exam in two days and only last night i had sternly told myself that i will stop shitting about. i immediately began to justify why i didn't necessarily need to study, as i so often did when it came to work vs pleasure issues, but the night before had been a big moment for me - very responsible and epiphanic blah blah blah. so i decided that i would deny myself my greatest desire until the moment the exam was finished and then i could catch 'em all to my heart's content (ignoring all my homework in the process). and for an hour or two, i did! that is until my brother burst into my room and showed me the pokémon he caught on his. i shoved my finger itching towards my phone under my leg. i ooooed and ahhhed at the appropriate times, hoping he would soon leave. but then he told me that unfortunately his name was already taken so he had to put some random numbers in and the battle was over. i had to start playing soon so i could get my name, right?

fast forward to today and i have been outside more times in the past week than in the previous five or so years. instead of avoiding the more populated side of my neighbourhood, i now march straight into the masses in the hopes to find more rarer pokémon. i went on a two hour walk today - barely noticing the time slip by as i chased a growlithe around my local park - and passed at least 10 people on their own pokémon adventures, nodding and smiling at them knowingly before turning back to my phone and waiting eagerly for it to vibrate and reveal my new potential teammate.

pokemon go has been a phenomenal success. but with great hype comes great amounts of sheep following the herd. the same people who scoffed at me for playing pokemon during lunch at school just last year are now running around the city asking 'where can i find a pikachu?' people who barely know the difference between a caterpie and a weedle are pulling out their phones at parties to show off their party like 'hey look at me, i'm cool and trendy too'.

i wanted to tell them that i've been waiting for this game since forever. i wanted to tell them that i watched a two hour panel of the programmers discussing the upcoming features a month ago and enjoyed every second. i wanted to tell them that years of waking up early to watch the cartoons and play 'who's that pokémon' means that i can identify a species from its shadow in a heartbeat. i wanted to tell them that this is more to me than the 'app of the week' and instead it's a chance for me to live my childhood in a way that i only ever dreamed of. i wanted to tell them that in the top ten experiences of my life this was way up there.

but then i realised that i was just being a giant asshole.

the source of the pokemon franchise's appeal comes from the fact that it's personal. everyone's first pokemon game is different. everyone chose a different starter. everyone buys a different card deck. everyone watches a different movie. the key storyline of pokemon is the same: catch 'em all, fight the gyms, train your team, save the world, be the pokemon master. but the way that each person does it is so distinctly unique from their team to their battle strategy to whether they decide to even do a contest.

so maybe some people's first experience of the pokémon world is through pokémon go. good for them. i don't want to be just another elitist snob trotting in on my high rapidash to stubbornly declare that the first 151 pokémon are the best of them all without ever even playing another game. granted, i've never gone past sinnoh, but what i do is so different to anyone else.

pokémon's key demographic is kids and what's the common factor between all kids from the past, present and future? there's always going to be new ones which means there's always going to be someone with their first pokémon experience waiting around the corner. i don't want to be the prick that takes the joy and sentimentality of that moment away from them.

besides, the more popular it becomes, the more important it will be for the company which means the more updates and new things they will create. and i definitely won't complain about that.

(born in 1998 and have a voice to share with the world? click here to find out how you can be heard!)

i've been a fan of bo burnham's ever since i stumbled across one of his videos while in a deep dark hole of youtube a couple of years ago. what. immediately became my favourite comedy special, nudging donald glover's weirdo out of its long-running title at first place. i still love weirdo, but bo's mixture of music, narrative and cringingly perfect puns is near impossible to beat.

when i saw him post tour dates for his make happy tour i was bummed. they were all in america so oceans and borders were keeping me away from my comedic hero. but when i heard that he would be releasing it all in a new netflix special, i was beyond stoked. i marked the date on my calendar with a smiley face. i counted down the days. and when the moment finally came, i told my abundant pile of urgent homework to go fuck itself while i mentally prepared myself for what the next hour would hold.

and, boy, i was not disappointed. i had grown up since what. and so had bo. there was still the same surprisingly beautiful piano pieces under shockingly dark yet hilarious lyrics. there was still masturbation jokes and bo's magnetic stage persona that managed to look down and above at the audience simultaneously. there was still the acknowledgement and then subsequent disregard of political correctness. but the thing that made make happy so different to what. was that bo wasn't really hiding anymore. this time it was personal.

in what. bo didn't really talk about himself. or he did but it was so obviously not real. there was that distinct separation between the act and the person. in make happy, though, that line was blurred. bo was shamelessly putting it all out there - his fears and concerns and worries. he wasn't there to please anyone. not anymore. i mean, he straight up told the audience that his "biggest problem is you" before quickly covering it up with an actually really good kanye impersonation.

look, i'm not using this as a basis to declare that bo is mentally unstable or deeply depressed. i can't just decide to interpret his left and right brain separating as not authentic and then the moment he talks about real shit as an accurate reflection of his actual self. i don't know him. but i do very much hope that he is happy.

the thing that really stuck with me, though, was his exploration of internet culture. i hated it. because it was so so so true.

our generation is fixated with being on display and big corporate people sitting at the head of long tables on the top floors of skyscrapers are grinning devilishly as they continuously dish out social media and technology that allows us to do so and we so eagerly embrace. and i'm not saying this as a condescending hipster teetering over my decaf-skinny-one-sugar-affogato. i'm saying this because this is me. i'm so preoccupied with having people hear me that life is running by and i barely glance up from my obsession with being noticed to see it go. i don't want to live as a complete unknown where everything i do has absolutely zero effect on anything at all. i want to be important.

in a more deep lull of the show, bo advised all of us internet warriors that "if you can live your life without an audience, you should do it." and i took that to heart. only one person was going to live this life and that was me so why should it matter if anyone else knows about it? so i tweeted that quote on my twitter and haven't posted since. but even then, let's be real, i was silently waiting for someone to comment on my wittiness. and even then i only chose to ignore my twitter because i had merely 24 followers who were definitely ignoring me. and even then i'll probably join the twitter-verse again one day.

and that was that. fuck everyone else, my only sole purpose in life was for me and i'll live for me and i'l die for me. done-zel washington. so why, dinushka, are you posting this on a blog that is so obviously created for other people to pay you the attention that you so maddeningly crave? well, let me tell you, reader-asking-me-questions-that-does-not-exist.

i realised that it was not the audience that i was after. that was just a potential byproduct of the real goal. because all i really want in life, is to leave my mark. that's it. i don't want to be born and live and die and thus have any traces of myself blown away amongst the sands of time. that would be just so pointless. imagine living a lifespan of experiences and work and having absolutely nothing to show for it. ok, maybe there's children and relationships and ooo the connections you make wowee. except that's just not me. i want to be so much bigger than that.

i know that one day we'll all be forgotten. i know that one day cities will crumble and the human race will be just fossils and the earth will be swallowed by the sun. but that's not today and today i want to be remembered. today i want to matter.

(side note: the lighting in make happy, jesus, it was fucking lit)

(born in 1998 and have a voice to share with the world? click here to find out how you can be heard!)