thinking since '98

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.

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.

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.

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!)

what is this, the fourth post in a month? unexplained hiatus who?

anyways

i think the main reason that i stopped blogging oh so long ago is that i felt that it was pointless. i was ignoring homework and other priorities in favour of pouring my heart and soul into a post that practically no one would read. to try and fix this, i'd post the link for each of my blog posts on my tumblr with copious amounts of hashtags that were barely relevant in an attempt to reach a wider audience. but even then, i assume the handful of people that even bothered to click the link were just there to skim through another piece of work to do with their fandom before never checking out my blog again. that's not what i wanted. i wanted readers. i wanted friends.

then i realised that this sense of isolation was probably to do with the fact that i was isolated. i was trying to reach out to the teen blog universe but i was barely in it myself. i wasn't following any other blogs similar to mine - i wasn't really reading any other blogs at all. i was just wandering around on a lonely, empty road yelling my opinions into the nothingness.

so i turned to my good old pal, google. i scoured through posts and posts about 'the next tavi gevinsons' and 'up and coming teen bloggers to look out for'. i read through article and article on teen vogue, forbes and elle. i even clicked onto the second google search-page. but the second i clicked on each link, i would just dig up a dead blog. their owners had left them ages ago for the bright lights of ready-made social media accounts on instagram and twitter, abandoning their adolescent obsessions like a nintendog. when they were older, they might come back to blogging but i didn't care. adult blogs didn't interest me - i didn't want to read about divorces, mid-life crises and fabulous meatloaf recipes. i thought the world of teen blogging was over. that is, until i stumbled across 'teenage blogger central'.

suddenly i was faced with a buttload of blogs that were actually still being updated. there were people all around the world that were my age who were writing and creating and photographing things that i actually liked. the world of teen blogging wasn't dead - i was just looking under beds when i should of been searching through the clouds.

so, don't make my mistake. hit up tbc. trust me, you'll probably find a blog that's a lot better than this one.

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

standardised tests are one of the most ridiculous things that the education system has to offer. how is how i'm thinking and feeling on one particular day supposed to reflect a year or even more of my whole schooling career?

vce results came out yesterday. though i still have one more year of school, i did one vce subject. it was the only thing that i really tried hard at this year and in a classic turn of events, i didn't do very well. what a representation of my life.

but what really ticked me off were my 'results' for the general achievement test which is supposed to validate school-based and external assessments. i'm not gonna lie, i didn't really take it seriously at all and now i regret that because i realise it played a heavy part in my disappointing final score. but, c'mon, all there questions were begging me to make fun of them.

my gat results came in today. the gat is separated into three parts: written communication, mathematics/science/technology and humanities/arts/social sciences. my last two results were meh but let's talk about written communication. i honestly don't remember what i wrote for that part, but it supposedly wasn't up to par. apparently my "score in written communication typically indicates weaknesses in presentation, often reflected in a lack of coherence and an inability to use an appropriate style. there are frequent errors in punctuation and spelling, and vocabulary is generally limited."

well, alrighty then. not to toot my own horn, but i've entered three writing competitions and all three times i was published with honours. all of my school reports have indicated i possess really good literary skills. this blog isn't really a sufficient representation of my ability because i take it much too casually, but the icing on this very much lack of sundae is that in a very similar test earlier in the year, i was placed in the top 5% of the country for english. and yet, the gat is telling me that my writing skills are seriously below average.

how on earth is this one test an accurate reflection of what i can do? if this is the reason that i didn't do as well as i expected in my vce result, then i am beyond pissed. a whole two years worth of work down the drain because of three hours in one day?

the education system is flawed. i don't know how to fix it but i recognise that it needs to be fixed. and it's about time that the people actually controlling the system realise that too.

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

(photo courtesy of instagram)

i have not gone a day in months without seeing or hearing something to do with the kardashians. i've never actually watched an episode of kuwtk, but they have leaked out of tv screens and have somehow embedded themselves into my daily life.

i spent a solid 20 minutes last night watching shia labeouf sleep. it was only around the 21 minutes mark that i began to question why i just spent a solid 20 minutes watching shia labeouf sleep.

i love shia labeouf. when i was in fourth grade, we had to read holes and when we watched the movie i loved him in that. then, i loved him in transformers when little ten year old me had a little crush. when i made my first instagram account and - like everyone else - i thought i had the most amazing eye for photography and i was trying to be all artsy and creative, i loved when he wore the paper bag on his head because i thought i could recreate that and help break society's walls. and, of course, i will always love actual cannibal shia labeouf.

#allmymovies was awesome. such a simple idea but, damn, it was cool. i have a lot of respect for him for doing that. maybe it's different for actors, but i cringe whenever i see myself in videos. hell, i can't even read over my own writing without wanting to douse it and myself in oil and burn away the lame.

at the same time, why did i even care? why was i watching this dude laugh, think, sleep and - for the most part - just stare blankly at something that i couldn't even see? i don't know, but it was a good way to spend the time that technically i should be using to study for the exams that i am currently undertaking.

i can only imagine what shia labeouf would have been thinking as he watched himself become younger and innocent and wonder why he started acting in the first place. and i respect him even more for putting in the even stevens movie. that's dedication.

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

one of my least favourite tropes is that whole idea about girls being against girls. like the protagonist is only friends with dudes and she's kind of tomboy but every guy she meets basically falls in love with her and she doesn't have any girl friends because all other girls hate her because they're jealous and they spill their asparagus juice on her or whatever. also, the protagonist is against anything slightly perceived as feminine - scoffing at girls that want to go to prom, rolling her eyes at girls that wear make up and waving her middle fingers erratically in the air at girls that slightly upturn the corners of their lips at a boy.

like, nooooo. i thought this was the generation of feminism? the rise of the sisterhood? we're all queens. we shouldn't be putting ourselves down; we should be helping each other up to the throne.

being a feminist is not about disregarding anything that has had a history of being linked to femininity. it's about the equality of females, males, and anyone else. it's about destroying gender labels. it's about letting everyone be who they want to be.

if you like wearing a dress, cool, wear a dress. if you don't like wearing a dress, cool, don't wear a dress. having opinions on harmless things is not a crime.

and, girls, support each other. fight the patriarchy together. we're awesome.

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