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Nasi-bo-basi

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[ 10 Jun 2008
12:29am ]
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oh, and one more thing: [ 05 Jun 2008
5:16am ]
FUCK YOU.



Damn. That felt good.

[ 05 Jun 2008
5:08am ]
I feel fucking betrayed.

And for the most ridiculous reason ever, too.












You don't deserve this....and neither do I.

drip-drop the verse [ 07 May 2008
12:20pm ]
Turns out that things are a hell of a lot easier to deal with when you don't act completely fucking passive aggressive.


Who knew?




Anyway, yo, I'm 21. And I'm also good. So hey!
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bip. boop. [ 01 Apr 2008
6:53am ]
dearest worst essay in the entire world, ever:


I apologize profusely for creating you. I'm sure you are about as sad about your existence as I am. Worry not; as soon as your job is done, I will toss you in the appropriate receptacle, and you can run off with all your similarly shitty friends whilst I blissfully never think of you ever, ever again. Also, then I might sleep.


Cheers, beers, and queers,
Nasimeh B.
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Shwag, [ 07 Mar 2008
1:49am ]


Colours are just made that much better when spelled with a "u." Did you know that the French are beeeeeee-U-tiful? Also, Britpop is probably just about the best thing to ever happen on earth, ever.

Spring could not come fast enough. The weather, that is, not the months. What's your life like?
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i am the alphabet. [ 28 Jan 2008
2:04am ]
[ mood | delightful, but gassy ]



This city - this life - this existence - this everything - is truly amazing.
I want it to be Aussie day every day. And i don't think I ever want to leave.
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[ 02 Jan 2008
3:19am ]
Update: Sarah Turner is my hero. I'm starting to think that maybe I'm not going to explode... yet. Or fully. Partial explosion, maybe? We'll see.

More on that later. Right now: SLEEP.
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[ 01 Jan 2008
11:40pm ]
[ mood | AHGNHA AND TEA ]

Okay, so let's be honest. Very honest. Terrifically, fantastically, over-the-hills-and-through-the-snow-straight-to-the-moon-you-get-it-yet? honest:

I can't remember the last time I was this fucking terrified.

London is ... tomorrow, and dear God, I am so frightened. I know that this is going to be super, and I know that I'm going to love this semester, and once I get there it'll be fine and yada yada - but fuck is that hard to remember when I'm sitting here, surrounded by clusters of my life that i must organize and somehow manage to fit into one measly suitcase. What, what, WHAT! This is impossible. Ridiculous. AY.

In other news, I got a swell calculator watch. Boy, am I cool.

I was so excited, so blissfully excited, woe-less and worry-less and finejustfine up until today, and then- BAM!, it was as if the nervousness and fear and cold feet (cold, so cold!) and all, all, all were just waiting for the absolute worst moment to strike before they attacked full force. Suddenly, I was panicking and breathing quickly, prone to fits of tears, jittery, nervous, and absofuckinglutely petrified.

Again. I realize I'll be okay. More than okay - I know that this semester is going to be mindblowing, beautiful, supreme, like pizza, genius, gorgeous. Positive adjective positive adjective. But again ... it's just the here and now, the righthererightnow that is oh so, SO so scary.

What if? What if this, what if that, what if all the worst things and awful scenarios I've played out countless times in my mind actually come true? What if I hate it? What if I'm miserable? What if the Queen herself tells me England doesn't want me there? What if there's an outbreak of polio, or the world explodes, or I get so sick I have to return or turn into a giant bug or or or or or

Breathe in, breathe out. Ooooooohhh,aaaaahhhhh ... it'll be okay.

I have to go keep alternately packing, freaking, and attempting my hand at meditating to keep the other two actions from overwhelming me. Yes, yes, yes. Right.

There's no turning back now. Not that I really want to, really, mostly, sort of, maybe, but as the only way is forward, all I can do is step resolutely into the future.... right?

Right.

And, oh, erm - does anybody want a postcard, or a Brit? Just let me know.

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