For the one that I want

I hate this feeling
I want you to validate me
I want to be the only one who makes you smile
I'm like a beast in a cage too small when I see you with other girls
I don't even know if I really like you.
Like... seriously?
Is this some kind of sick joke?
Just the idea of being with you
makes my heart flutter,
my face grow warm and flush,
Makes my hands sweaty and clammy...
When you walk into the room
My eyes dart and try to avoid yours
In case it becomes too obvious
That all I want to do is touch you
and talk to you
Give you a piece of my mind
and learn about yours,
your quirks, your fears and dreams
I keep reminding myself that I don't feel anything.
It's just the climate,
the stress I'm under,
the dishes not being done...
anything to stop me from falling for you...

I just want a story about me. Is that too much to ask for? Part 2

Saw this the other day and holy crap it's exactly what I was talking about in my post http://dancingpotatotes.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/i-just-want-story-about-me-is-that-too.html but this is said about, uhh I dont know 600x more better... just perfect...

Why am I compelled to write? Because the writing saves me from this complacency I fear. Because I have no choice. Because I must keep the spirit of my revolt and myself alive. Because the world I create in the writing compensates for what the real world does not give me. By writing I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it. I write to record what others erase when I speak, to rewrite the stories others have miswritten about me, about you. To become more intimate with myself and you. To discover myself, to preserve myself, to make myself, to achieve self-autonomy. To dispel the myths that I am a mad prophet or a poor suffering soul. To convince myself that I am worth and that what I have to say is not a pile of shit. To show that I can and that I will write, never mind the outraged gasp of the censor and the audience. Finally, I write because I'm scared of writing but I'm more scared of not writing.

That was by Gloria Anzaldua in Speaking in Tongues: A Letter To 3rd World Women Writers.
I also recently came across this talk by Chimamanda Adichie who also speaks on the same kind of thing. You can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9Ihs241zeg&noredirect=1 She also has a great speech on Feminism...

Love & Freshly Dried Laundry

DancingPotatotes

Bibliophile sounds kind of disgusting

Hey folks... feels like it's been a while but I've kinda been on an emotional rollercoaster for the last two weeks and right now I'm at the top cause I'm feeling happy, free and like I could conquer the world. Except I'm just sitting at my desk, back starting to hunch and smiling like an idiot.

So we all have that endless list of books we have to read, right? During my "holiday" (aka I failed a paper so I had 6 months off just working and chilling... IT WAS AWESOME) last year I got into the habit of buying books (I had to stop cause helloooo! tuition fees) because books are swweeeeeet... think of summer holidays, nestling on the green green grass with a light breeze and the oddly beautiful sounds of ducks quacking in a pond nearby reading an awesome (or maybe not so) book... or winter, curled up in a nice warm blanket with a mug of hot chocolate and cookies baked fresh off the oven, with a book in your hand... aaaahh *stares into the distance with a look of nostalgic ecstasy*

....

Aannnd we're back. So I thought I'd share my favourite books on my shelf with you... I would like to buy others I've enjoyed that I read but maybe one day when my bank account doesn't look like a joke and if I ever finish this degree I might.. *clears throat* I mean, when I finish this degree o_o

So these are the books I bought and the ones I 80-100% LOVE LOVE LOVE...

(I really need the Harry Potter series, more Agatha Christie books, Shit My Dad Says and Book of a 1000 days)

These next books are the ones I started reading and haven't yet finished PLUS the ones on my shelf I haven't started reading but really want to read one of these days....

(Add in Graceling, Song of the Lioness series, The Name of the Wind, any of Rick Riordan series, Warmbodies, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy... This list is just never gonna fucking end is it?)

These are the "WHY THE HELL DID I BUY THESE BOOKS... WHAT A WASTE OF MONEY... WHY WHY WHY?" books I own.. *throws them out the window* *goes back out to get them cause I could probably give them to the old book stores for someone else to appreciate more than me*

So after the waste-of-money-books I decided to just download books to read and if I liked them I would buy them. So I really want to own my own little library one day... If one day I do, then I will consider my life lived. Have you seen those antiquish looking libraries??!! Just google search 'library porn' *faints from bookgasm* haahaa

And then we come to the imaginary shelf of books I enjoyed but would never buy the books for because of reasons

• J.R Ward's Black Dagger Brotherhood series
• The 13th book in the Series of Unfortunate Events books... We never speak of that one
• The Game of Thrones series (actually my brother owns these and he's moved away but left them...hmmmmmmmmm)

P.S I never understood it when you go to people's homes and they say "Excuse the mess" and there's no mess??? Jeez why do you lie for? When I say that I literally mean it because my house is ALWAYS a damn mess like things on the floor, dishes from two days ago... Anyways, excuse the mess behind the books :)

PEACE & GENTLE BREEZES ON A HUMID DAY!

DancingPotatotes

COURAGE

She had been sitting at her desk for some time now. Her head in her hands. Tears drying on the pages in front of her. When did life become so complicated, she wondered. The world expected so much from her that sometimes she found it hard to even breathe. Breathe, she reminded herself. She concentrated on breathing, taking slow deep breaths and focussed on relaxing her shoulders. But she was weighed down. Why am I trying to be strong anymore? I'm not strong, I'm weak, always have been, the voices inside her argued and moaned and she squeezed her eyes tight as if this would drown them out. Wanting to scream, wanting to release this monster that threatened within her. It was a constant battle. Most days she was strong. But days like this, even with the sun shining so brightly outside and the birds singing so sweetly, it was hard to believe it would ever get better. But it usually did, didn't it? She usually came out of this stronger, no matter how long the storm in her heart shook her, she always came out of it alive.

It's a battle, isn't it? People can try to help but at the end of the day, the only way to get past that thing that strikes at random is by fighting it out yourself. And you are sooo much stronger than you believe. And it's always nice to remember that sometimes.

a bedtime story for you

Read this if you want to fall asleep...

So when I was 15, I returned to New Zealand after living in Samoa a few years. You know that one school with the bad reputation that has all the stoner kids and 'goth' kids... well my parents enrolled me and my older brother at that school.
Aaanyway, this school was probably the most interesting high school I ever went to. And it had no uniform.  This is the school where I had friends who were stoners so they were the most chilled, laid back yet most ambitious people you could ever meet. So there was this chick in my group, right, her name was Jojo (N.B Names have been changed to protect the identity of those involved lool) and what I didn't know about her was that she, was actually a he. Remember, I was only 15 and I have never come across a cross-dresser my own age who literally lived the life of the opposite sex. So basically, everyone knew that she was a cross dresser.I didn't even know until my other mate told me and then I was like "Oh" but thinking so that explains it. Actually, no I wasn't cause I had no bloody idea.
So Jojo was this really loud, out there, skimpily dressed (hey, whatever floats yours bro), getting kicked out of classes, jewellery thieving, hair braiding, cigarette smoking dudette and a third of our memories I have with her are being slightly embarrassed in the background as she yells out to guys or cusses out 'those jealous Africans' (She clamed to be half Maori, half African). I didn't have a problem with her.
And Jojo was single. She was always asking me to hook her up with someone I knew and what not and I just laughed and said, "Yeah, whatever". I remember my parents called her my "sin friend" -___-
So cue my old primary school buddy named Johnny. Johnny is an awesome dude who is funny and adorable and a rugby player if you're into that sort of thing. And one day we were catching up and I asked him if he had a girlfriend (Yeah I don't beat around the bush... except in assignments) and he was like

"Naah. Why's that?"
"Oh, I have a friend.."
"Oh yeah, is she hawt?"
"She all that and more mah broski, naahmean?"
"Naaw, bro, whatchyu mean?"
"You want her digits?"
"Whatchyu thaank, girl"

I'm kidding, we didn't really speak like that haha but that's how it basically went down. So a week later, I get a call from him...

"Hey, Johnnie, what's up?"
"WHAT THE HELL, MAE!"
"Huh?"
"The girl you gave me the number is a dude. What the hell did you give me his number for?"
"Oh shii, how did you know?" hahaha what a thing to say, right?
"EVERYONE KNOWS YOU IDIOT!"
*nervous chuckle*

and that was when I realised that straight guys probably don't go for girls who are actually guys *slaps forehead*. Plus, he was a Christian.

Virtual Hugs!
DancingPotatotes

Is it May already?

Things I learned about myself recently:

1. We all need me-time once in a while. Me-time doesn't mean you're lazy or selfish, it's like a nap. It helps to regenerate and recollect your thoughts. I just realised today the reason I was down lately was because for the past month or so I haven't had time for myself or had time to do stuff I usually like doing. I've had all my school commitments and exercising throughout the day and then during the weekend I was pushed into work and church commitments. The only time I had to myself was sleeping and showering. So today in between classes, I went home and sat down, had a mug of green tea and some dark chocolate and watched about half an episode of Doctor Who (which is the greatest show on earth and I loooooove the Ponds) and then had enough time for my next class. I actually felt a heap better.
2. I am not a push-over. So there's this really out-there, full-on-in-your-face-cussing dude I work with who happens to be gay. Now him being gay is not important (I think), but you know the stereotypical loud gay guy that we see in tv shows who can be openly judgemental? Well, I work with that guy... And he yells and cusses all the time and puts people down. Well alot of people find him extremely hard to work with (he happens to be the main bartender in our bar) but I really don't even give a rats ass. People always ask me how I stay calm around him (I have the aura of Steven Siegel) but I attribute it to the fact that I really don't care. Some people have even leapt to my defense when he randomly but jokingly (I think lol) calls me a bitch but I just laugh/shrug it off. And the reason is, I just don't care. I don't care what he thinks of me, I don't care what he says about me. Because I don't really care about him. It would be different if it was someone whose opinions mattered to me but him, nope. So choose your fights wisely, some are just not worth it.
3. I have to stop jumping the gun. I jump to conclusions, a lot... A HELLUVA LOT. The second I think something is missing... "Omg, I think *insert name of last person around said missing object* stole it... Oh wait, here it is... ha he he"
4. I'm losing touch with my culture. So I live in a city that doesn't really have many Samoans... and the ones that do live here, well it seems like they all came here to get away from their roots. I don't really remember ever being able to speak Samoan a lot because I was always disheartened when the real fobs would laugh at me when I tried. I know that shouldn't have stopped me but it did and I still remember everyone who laughed at me lol (grudge-holder much?) Anyway, when people would ask me what I was, I would say I was Kiwi/New Zealander/NZ-born Samoan and I seriously believed that. I mean it is true. But I always said Kiwi first because I was born and bred there and I've lived there the most throughout my life. But when I told my parents this they were thoroughly disappointed. They said, "You are Samoan." Yeah, I am culturally yadayada and that's when I just started saying "I'm just a product of my environment blah blah" But then I realised my parents were right (don't tell them I said that lol)... I am Samoan. I am a Samoan through and through although I was brought up overseas. Jeez, I'm an idiot sometimes. So now, I'm trying to learn the language again and trying to get back into the culture (which is so chauvinistic and so 1950s haha jooookes -_-)

Here, have a poem I wrote about 5 years ago...

I’ve lost my culture. 

The blood of my ancestors run deep within me. 

But their language so foreign, like gibberish to my ears.

I claim to be their descendent, yet tongues are tied.

I reach helplessly for words that are not in my reach, yet so close to home.

Words that will teach the generations to come of who they are.

Yet only the white mans language slides smoothly off the tip of my tongue.

 O fea sa e i ai? O fea ua e alu i ai? 

Where were you? Where have you been?

What will I teach my children? Of their language?  Of their culture?

When the Samoan language I hardly know has been stolen from my very lips.

I try so hard to remember, yet my life is living to forget.

My eyes cry unseeing tears of sadness.

Sadness that sweeps over the eyes of my matua and aiga, as I struggle with simple words.

Words that will one day be lost in a cacophony of broken Samoan.

Peace & Grace,

Potatotes