Stable waters // a heart-to-heart.

  More than three years ago I wrote a testament to the concept of blogging. Till this day I still stick by such words. There’s no doubt that language is the best means of conveying your voice (subaltern/logocentrism ref), but writing specifically puts you at the forefront of self-expression. Sure, I suppose blogs might be deemed a little archaic, and posts (on my end) are sparse – but I like to think they come from the heart. And I wouldn't have it any other way. 

  Flash forward to the start of this year: there I was, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I was confident that 2016 was going to be my year. I felt hopeful that I could juggle a myriad of priorities all whilst keeping sane.

  But to be frank, this year was a real challenge. It wasn't the fact that it was Year 12 and that I was stressed about school – if anything, I was apathetic – but rather, I had lost sight of what mattered: the things I loved doing, the things I needed to prioritise, and most importantly myself. A lot of loose ends came undone and revealed that I still had so much to work on before I could fully devote myself to other people and responsibilities.

  The worst part is, I gave myself continuous excuses and harboured some very toxic emotions. My circumstances felt entrapping, and if I look back on the year, I can't quite say I've achieved a significant amount. The discouraging school environment was draining for me personally, and I held on trying to pretend it was okay; after a while it became bearable. I graduated not too many weeks ago and in hindsight, I've already started noticing the dramatic difference in my lust for life. I have so much more of a will to better myself as we speak.

  I found a gem of a video from Anna Akana which was not only groundbreaking but resounding of the truth. The secret to happiness? In a nutshell: growth. For myself it was a year of mental/physical stagnancy, of just sticking it through for the sake of it, and never really investing or applying myself because nothing felt worth it anymore. By not having the room for personal growth I suffered, and it shows.

  The roughest realisation was that I had become a negative influence that even I didn't want to associate with. They always say to remove yourself from relationships and environment(s) that keeping you unhappy; but what happens when you're the one inflicting all the pain? What happens when you're the one people don't want to be around? That's what left me dumbfounded. I had become the person I had sworn to never tolerate – I'd become exactly that, one who did nothing except dish out negativity.

  Not that there is anything wrong with negativity. I'm always an advocate of a healthy amount of skepticism, as well as paying homage to what is wrong. The paramount step is to attempt to resolve it. The problem comes with incessant self-awareness of your shortcomings, combined with the inability to alter one's such fate. I still don't know the antidote to self-toxicity in a mentally suppressive environment (hello, brain) but I've overcome a great deal, and I'm happy enough with progress.

  There's the good news though. I'm now 18 and am greeted with newfound responsibility! (Yay to decisions.) Since graduating I've set out all these grand plans – and now all that's left is to find to my footing and allow said plans to come to fruition. I've actively tried to work on myself, try new things and involve myself in endeavours that will only have me feeling content. (Except that one time I had to be dragged out of the front row at Flume – relentless, breath-taking-away crowds are not for the faint-hearted. Or the petite.) Catching up with long lost loved ones has been what I needed, especially when it feels like nothing has changed at all. Catching up with myself, however, is going to take a bit of time, but I'm happy to finally focus on myself and the paths I choose to take. As well as that, how I'm going to give back to those around me.

  Honestly I know it doesn't seem like it, but my love for writing hasn't changed either. I can't wait to start writing again. Writing right now just brings me back to feelings of mirth. I've been playing around the idea of a book for quite some time now, to kickstart my lurking ambition. See, I don't think anyone particularly cares, or is keen to understand, but to be able to finally write again (and forgive me, I'm rusty this time!) is more than enough.

  I know I have it in me, and I just have to keep going.

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The last day of school.

(really couldn't think of a more creative title but) it's the end of an era: no more high school, no more superficial drama

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The truth about having a rescue dog.

  Once when I was about six years old, I came home to an Australian silky terrier we were to name Scruffy. My Mum had found him ambling along the road, and he subsequently decided to follow her. He had no collar, or microchip, and had clearly been stray for days (even weeks). Henceforth my mother made the decision to introduce the first-ever dog to her own family. His stay with us was short-lived, due to complications, but nonetheless he gave us the most remarkable experience. Years later we went on to have Ruby the beagle, and Sandy the American cocker spaniel – both of whom had made their lasting impression.

  The sad truth is, millions of incredible dogs are left without a home, or find themselves subjected to improper treatment. (The latter which I find to be absolutely infuriating.) Dogs are the most beautiful creatures; ask anyone and you're likely to receive a consensus. So, to commemorate the very existence of canines, as well as the five months since Honey's adoption, it's about time I got gushy.

  Rescued by the RSPCA late last year, 2-year-old Honey was heavily pregnant and soon gave birth to seven gorgeous puppies. (Yep, that's right: a puppy having her own pups.) One by one they were adopted, leaving Honey for last. It was around January that Mum had considered getting another dog, so she started looking around. Upon my suggestion, we took to looking for dogs at the RSPCA. And so our search ensued, and ended promptly. The RSPCA had done such a fantastic job looking after Honey in the meantime. Just meeting her had my Mum convinced. As a mother herself, she fell in love with Honey's spirit and beautiful character (and vice versa!). I met her the day after, and never before had I encountered a Staffy x Kelpie cross. She was – and still is – stunning. We just knew we couldn't wait any longer to have her. 

  On the way back home, Mum sat in the backseat and held her quivering body. She had calmed down and for that entire week, I just could not leave her alone. She was a dream come true. She lived up to being as sweet as her name suggests, and in no time she became increasingly confident, exploring her new environment without fear.

  Yet, it is unknown what sort of trauma befell her, and quite frankly, it's the most excruciating thing to even imagine. No dog deserves abuse, nor neglect. Sometimes I'll still see her tremble in her dreams. She'll even bark, in muted horror. At times the only thing I can see is a past that's unerasable.

  Till this day her title as our little-but-not-so-little heart-stealer remains. With us, it's effortless. She's more than just a dog. She's an angel. Not once has she showed us a single speck of spite, but rather just, well, unconditional love. She's super affectionate, and fancies herself as a bit of a lapdog. She makes a great alarm clock every morning, too. (Did I mention she loves her baths?)

  She's not only intelligent and inquisitive (you'd best bet she's one heck of a sniffing detective), but she also has the most charming personality. She's a big fan of cuddling, as well as showering us with licks. She loves running marathons in our backyard, digging up holes, and discovering new toys she's never seen before. She knows when we're leaving, or when she wants to go for a walk, and she'll groan in intervals indicating her sentiments. Truly, yes, we do communicate! She really listens to us, is good to us, even if she is a bit playful or attached. Yet there's no doubt she's insanely protective, too.

   Why so? The simply answer being: she's lost trust in others. And for some reason I am still racking my brain for she had managed to open her heart to us so quickly, and not once has it faltered. Sadly, she is the most insecure girl I have met. Nothing comforts her more than our company. Her anxiety has been a prime issue, particularly the first couple of months after we adopted her. It wouldn't be right, of course, to not mention the days where we had our doubts and off-days. Socialising her is a risky task, and previous attempts have ended in major distress, as well as lots of tears on our end. We know it's not her fault, as she is a dog, and she's not brave enough to see beyond the worst of her experiences.

  Despite her still not being particularly friendly upon the introduction of strangers, we've been working on it patiently and have since made leaps and bounds. When she does eventually come round to someone, she's back to herself!










  Though we do we have the responsibility of making sure awry incidents don't occur again, she's certainly proven herself. She's given us hope, every single time she accepts one of our friends, or lets the neighbour at the corner of the street pet her.  Her approach to humans and calmness during walks has improved tremendously. I get so excited to see her thrive, and the best part of the day? Coming home to an excited Honey.

  I love her with all my heart, (and not just for the fact that we'd let her into our lives on Valentine's day, but purely) due to our undeniable bond. I've never met a dog like her, and in all respects she is certainly the most unique. She's really not just a pet, but a valuable member of our family.

  You see, having a rescue dog isn't just about giving them a second chance. It's about being willing to give them many more, with the right love they deserve. It's about making a commitment – to a sentient being that is so incredulously willing to dedicate themselves to you.

  Right now? She's being the puppy she was never allowed to be – and there is nothing more that makes my heart sing. Of course there is the innate fear with new situations: but we're all in it together. I can't imagine a life now without her; she adds so much colour to our lives. She's also unknowingly strengthened the bond between my Mum and I, which is absolutely priceless. In some ways, change brings on the most cherished of times.

  For both her, and us.

  If you're looking to get a dog, don't be scared to visit a shelter and meet the lovely dogs you'll find there, who are all in dire need of adoption. Don't be quick to judge, especially if it's based on breed, or put dogs from breeders on a pedestal, for you might find your canine best friend (or other types of pets) waiting for you – and for their second chance at life.

Click here to see what RSPCA animals are waiting to be adopted!

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The hedonist.

1. A plethora of cool evenings and sunsets // 2. a picnic or two // 3. adopting Honey from the RSPCA // 4. live music galore

5. best mates' ball pre's' // 6. had the pleasure of attending my boyfriend's ball // 7. beach time + alluring sunsets

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Always blue.

  I've been appreciating this 3-day dose of colder weather. It's been in the late 20s in lieu of the usual high 30s. With that in mind, I'm appraising the usual heat. / Summer is dashing by quickly, and proving to be of felicity. This disposition is priceless; it's poetic justice. (I could never get enough.) Despite the involved idleness, my bad thoughts still hit. / Yet as it seems, being accepting of them - and letting them pass - has been much easier. I can only think to myself, 'These days are worth living for. I wouldn't want to be anything else but alive.'

  It's true. Adversity helps you better appreciate the brighter side.

***

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Only ones who know.

Dear _________,

  This is my love letter to life, of sorts. It's that time of year to reflect in a grand manner. I have not properly written for a month now, and it seems I haven't had the overwhelming desire to. These days I've been occupied for hours on end, with every day offering nothing less than quality.

  See, the concept of another year seemed foreign. It had been fast encroaching and as much as I was aware, it's passed me by. I've been so caught up in enjoyment that it's crazy to think I've already spent a month out of school, and primarily in bliss. Ending the year on a a high note, the main agenda in this instance is to collate my thoughts. ('Cause that's just what I do, hey?) The last 2 months of 2015 have just been so wholesome and engaging. In no way would I have predicted this; day after day of diversion - more gigs, road trips, memorable nights, impromptu picnics, fam dinners... All of it has been of sheer brilliance.

  I've made it into 2016 with the most intricate, gorgeous souls. I don't think I could have done it without the rewarding company of both the old and new. I look at where I am today and marvel at the great unprecedented events leading up to this. It all started with unknowingly rekindling/forming friendships. Just with a dash of luck, I'd been gifted an infinite sum. It's funny to think back on how I may have made this all happen. I'd decided to do more things oriented to my interests, and gathered up my favourite people. We didn't know it at the time, but we'd all get along so well. We trooped to the Last Dinos' gig in search of a good time, and came out of it with new friends. These people have ended up being so involved in my prevalent state of happiness. And would you believe it? It sparked from a single shared love: music. We'd met up each following weekend and from thereon, we bloomed collectively. (As a group and individually.) I sure didn't realise it then but my life was taking a turn for the better. As a result of this, I've been able to be in the best place possible. I'm now centred, encircled by people who strive for the better for me. How fortunate am I to have secured some of the most solid friendships in existence.

  How did I deserve it all? Well (as I'm told), just by being myself. It's something I truly thank my lucky stars for. It's times like these where I can enjoy a comfortable silence - with others, and with myself. I have peace of mind, most of the time. (A state of higher order that seemed almost impossible to achieve with the way my 2015 had been going.) (Note that I am, in every aspect, genuine regarding what I am going to say. They say some things should be left unsaid but hey, I'm all about constant verbal expression.) For long, I had felt arrantly disconnected. The blood in my veins had begun to match the everyday blues, and colour had paled from my face. I was smiling but doing so with every piercing reservation. I'd been in limbo, sickly stifled and stuck in the void. I wasn't moving, nor living. The days were dull and unstimulating, and I owed my lack thereof to my own inadequacy. That's where it became fatal.

  I'd begun pulling myself apart. I hated feeling what I did. (How could I? It seemed I had no real problems.) The problem was ultimately me. They say you should always extract the problem, and I was so determined to to yank it by the root. I'd contemplated ending it all, and switching off to a quiet place forever. (Oh, an euphemism I'd thought so fondly of.) I was irrevocably helpless for a period of time because no matter what, I could not help myself. I was a hot mess. I couldn't find it within me, and as it seemed, others couldn't stick around either. I did have lifelines - yes, I did. I had many. I just didn't want to resort to them. I've succumbed to hopelessness and my self-convinced title as a burden. Yet with magical timing, the tables had turned. I don't know how, but I'm sure it began with me learning to stop suppressing.

  I am proud of being my own person. I am proud of who others are. I am proud to have them in my life, as I am in theirs. I am the epitome of sentience and I love it. I make a difference and I know damn well that I do. (Though I may spite myself, I need to realise I am human. We all second-guess ourselves. I just need to not let it get in the way.) Our adversities are unique but in some way, related. That's where we connect; the dots are traced and lined up seamlessly to create something unified. We're a beautiful, cluttered mess. In other words - we're all in this, together. Never should I allow myself to feel as I'm less or parallel to my tragedies. Never should I treat myself the way I wouldn't want others to treat me. I am alive and present. I need to be there for myself, so I can be there for all the significant people and moments in my life.

***

  What have I been doing these days? (The redundant question stands.)

  I've certainly been on my feet. Bare feet, running, sauntering, dancing. I've been writing letters - a rare medium I want to let others savour. I've shared words and opinions. I've shared kisses. I've shared drinks. I've shared tears (over the phone and in person). Most importantly, I've shared moments. It's been the real deal. Perhaps I was caught off guard when all this sharing became commonplace but, I can't imagine being my raw self any other way.

  You may know I have no qualms about being open. Absolutely none. I'm as open as can be. This, coupled with my own way of living and accepting, was well worth the risk of being vulnerable. I used to believe that I was too much of an open book. I now know I was quite wrong. If I hadn't experienced the lows, I wouldn't be able to appreciate the highs in such great depth. I wouldn't have been able to scale the heights I have now. 

  I never have New Year's resolutions. I don't end up abiding by them, since I feel that the turning over of a new leaf shouldn't necessarily rely on a brand new year. But I've thought of one simple, conclusive yet powerful resolution: Take my own advice. I am often told I give great advice, and it's about time I practise what I preach. (Oh, and get ample rest, too.)

  Someone dear once said to me: 'Your mind is one of the greatest Indra's nets I know.' It almost made me cry. I know the full weight of its meaning now. I am so glad I hung on for my own sake, and been dealt with strength. It's fact that I'm prone to have things weigh on my mind, and in 2015, I'd finally learnt to let go. I'd learnt so much about staying honest/true to myself. It's been the most endearing and relieving revelation. For once, it all feels right.

  I hope 2016 will be another golden year for us.

All my love,

Rachel x

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Sunday to Sunday.

Rachel's famous word spills #4: orange light on the horizon, bare feet, coffee stains, constant good tunes, welcome scratches, lazy glory, the smell of musk, caffeine and crashing, droned voices, a borrowed flannel, chasing the moon, specks of sand everywhere, the sun gradually tucking itself in, gradient hues coming to play, a midnight dance, another trance, three in a bed, a bite or two, a singular arch linear to the sand, the foamy shore overlapping our toes.

  It's a cardinal period; summer is being put on hold. I know I'll survive. I'll just need to live in the meantime. I miss everyone and most of all, I miss getting lost in the moment. // A week can encompass so many familiar feelings and new beginnings, that I'm past the point of just wishing. What I've wanted for so long awaits me. It's here. It's clear as day. (The perception in my mind? Not so much.)

  Whenever I'm whisked away I wish to withdraw, and wait till the desirable rolls round. I need to take care of myself. I need to be more selfless. // The last weekend was gorgeous, leaving me wanting even more. These days I'm drawn back to another world; a world where my priorities scramble for their own sake, where suddenly everything else matters. Where I either bury my thoughts or mull over them endlessly. // But here's a toast. I'm thankful, you have no idea. For every dose of negativity I brew myself, comes another crucial parade. Cheers to the golden people in my life, to the family and those not of blood, the understanding words and silent blessings, to the tearful resolution in our strife. The bittersweet, made better.

'It's you my love that I need, it's you my love that I feel / Till the morning rise / Singing along till my soul's on fire' - The Vanns

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Baby we're outside of time.

Habitual languor is a blessing, as i deem A concave of a dream The nullity caving in The surrounding love enfolds and tells me, "it's okay, to feel this way" A concept so arcane almost spineless,

met with sheer cordiality These bloodshot eyes, tears of sentimentality they make way for the new sense of consolation Our nameless quest to find the beauty in the dark We're in this upheaval together we'll embark

  It seems I've begun to take a liking to word spills. Why's that?

  To be frank, I'm not sure either. Perhaps I haven't been idle enough to convolute my thoughts. Perhaps the contentment in my fragile frame is steadily rising. Perhaps I'm in the happiest place I have ever been for the longest while. Though bittersweet, I've found my footing. I don't feel like I'm sinking anymore. I simply don't have to pretend. I have the promise of some of the fondest people, and genuine things to look forward to.

  You know what's funny? As cliché as it sounds, music brought us together. The past three weeks contain memories that will surely be hard to forget. These are the days I stuck around for, the days I didn't see coming but brought so much joy. The days I'm confident of, ones I didn't need to feign. The sunsets and shows and willingness to embrace have been worth it. I'm sure of it. These are the instances where we took our stand, fought time, and came out triumphant at last.

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