A lament

I am tired of speaking on my own death and other such... Featuring in the side of todays background pulled randomly from Google are these words, I thought they suited...

where once was light
now darkness falls
where once was love
love is no more
these tears we cry
are falling rain
for all the lies you told us,
the hurt, the blame
and we will weep
to be so alone
we are lost...
we can never go home.

I don't know what the figure is at the side, I don't know. But if forced to assume some form of knowledge about it, I must say that judging by the quiver of arrows at it's feet and judging by the positioning of the hand as if upon the hilt of a sword I can only assume that these are supposed to be words of a knight clad in dark armor. Well, I am never home, if home is where the heart is, then physically I have a heart thus a home. But to go beyond that, to assume any affiliation with some supernatural, or ethereal existence is folly. Be thankful knight, that you have such fond memories to call upon in your time of need, that there was once love, openly expressed love, you were never left guessing, with any ounce of doubt. Something for us all I think. Do not ponder that times presently don't appear to be such a gift as yesterday. Just acknowledge that yesterday was a gift that only tomorrow may bring once more. Are you foolish enough to deny yourself those opportunities?

Life

I am stuck, I know not what to do, nor how to deal with it, nor how to live. People will tell me all that I know, all that I have heard before, all that I am currently able to comprehend. But just how much can it mean? My whole life, spent in and out of numerous 'professionals' offices, whilst I complained of the same ailments that needn't concern you... All the while being pressured by my parents, the very ones who love me and cherish me as they do all my siblings, to be better than the rest because they deemed it so, not for any other reason than that. The illness which plagued me then, plagues me still, I have found no reprieve. The religious will say that no one is ever given more than they can handle, those who aren't sure themselves will say no matter what you believe as long as you have something to hold on to, then your obligation is to that thing, whatever it is, you are then obligated to hold onto that thing, those who are not religious will say that it is up to us to deal with whatever comes our way, some hack it, others weave clothing with it, you just have to find your way and those who have lost their way demand small change from my pockets for their next high. I know these are very general terms and don't give those few trying to help any real credit, but they refuse to read my words and continue to wonder what the problem is. It doesn't matter, they try, I know I don't make things easy but in what I believe to be plain english they know what ails me. That doesn't matter, they tried and I am thankful for their attempts. I'm quite good at making things difficult for people even myself. I have had no real emotions of my own on a side note... I will talk with someone, or rather they will talk to me and I'll listen, and I will feel with them what they have gone through... Apart from this persistent problem of mine I've made it through this lifetime almost free from what I shall call trivialities. I guess there is something about the troubles and woe of another. I have not felt my own happiness bud and grow, nor sadness, or love, responsibility etc. It was to the point where I questioned my capacity to feel for myself, or would I forever need someone else to talk at me to get my emotional needs as a human being. That's still not something I'm quite sure I can accept yet, despite the apparent foolishness behind such a claim... Oh well. What am I but a flawed human, just like the rest of you, just like the rest of us. I should take some time out to explain just what this particular post is about, but in the end you'll never read this far down... Content to label me a lost cause, or as something more to the point you just close, or move on. That's fine with me. What a beautiful wall of text. Sorry about that. Your choice. This post is more for me than it is for you. I know how to make others feel good, others feel bad, it all meant so very little, it was all just one experiment after another... until recently. Until recently I knew nothing of this virtual world, internet, networking or social sites, google was a mathematical term, facebook was someone's interpreted version of a photo album, and my space is in my room just a few metres away from where I sit now. The only letters I wrote were in my hand writing, and stamped with a stamp. Until recently my most current friends knew nothing of the true troubles behind my smile, or rather they learned of the facade of who I was. I thought I needn't concern them with my troubles, that is until I made landfall once again. On that boat the air was so clean and the water so clear, they were nothing but small itches at the back of my mind. I was able to be myself without my problems, for those eleven days, I was peaceable, they would even go so far as to call me a good person, enjoyable to be around. How quickly my problems came back to haunt me, how quickly was my freedom forgotten. They were surprised when I asked for help, and it isn't from a lack of trying of course that they failed. Nothing to be ashamed of, this countries best have failed me, repeatedly. Part of me had hoped that there would be something, any form of relief in talking to these new people, all so singularly strong and when put together forming a social structure I have not known to exist. But no, my troubles continue to plague me and I am still here very much alive.

Death as a Virtue

Not too long ago, I chose death as my virtue, that the greatest service I could give humanity, indeed the only service I could give humanity, was to die... The passage pertaining the details there in was that of my final essay, meant to be 100 pages long in itself not including the self-analysis, in my final year attendance.


The year can only be two-thousand and six, the time I am currently unable to tell you, people call me by many names, but the most common used to thy ear is "Freaky". If I am to die, then it shall be by thy hand, in thine own way, in thy time and that shall be the greatest honour anyone could bestow me. Upon my gravestone let it read; "This death was of thy choosing and such was thy choice. Fools who mourn beware the disservice thou give me."
And lo, I walks to thy doom yet does not cry nor shed tear. For he who knows what to do, what is ahead of him fears not. Yet he who is without fear is not brave but indeed a coward. And so it is a cowards death, not one fit for king, nobility, or other such higher standards, but the death of a peasant I seek for I fear not death nor the abyss. And so I shall be buried, to rot and wiley away to the nothings of time and maggot, not cast into the heavens nor purified with flame.


Meant to be 100 pages, it's barely 200 words, 191 if I am not mistaken, not including title... It still passed, of course it did. I am in no mood to go into the details of the self-analysis at this point, no doubt you'd find them thrilling just as all other man kind would. But no, those papers shall remain just that, papers.



I haven't been eating anything out of the ordinary, just a usual routine of cut meats and vegetables with desserts of fresh fruit. Real food of course, but I know that is a wasted cause on such youths.

isnt this How you feEl as welL as Poor old me

Have you Ever had that feeling that gut wretchning feeling that somethings amiss you dont Like it you dont quite know what it is or who it involves even why youre feeling like this you just have this feeling that there is Probably no definitely something wrong somewhere like youre Missing something some kind of point surE you tell yourself maybe its something you ate or drank or what you didnt consume or maybe youre just plain NOt feeling well but deep down inside no matter how much you try to lie to yourself however much you Try to hIde it you know there is soMEthing wrong and it irks you that you dont know what it is you know nothing about it other than the fact that its there wellcome to my world i know that there are millions upon millions of thingS that arE out there i know Nothing about them i Dont even know enough to Seperate the things from stuff im just left with this gaping hole in my stomach leaving a pit thats bottomless sending my head reeling in sich a dizzying fashiOn i close my eyes and tell Myself everyone feels this way becausE it is the same with all the others but there is no ONE like me there is no one like you were all unique So how does anyone truly know how we feel How is it that the words i have used just now which are the words i have heard frOm another yet also describe how i feel and possibly how you yourself feel at times its because we arent a peRfect race we settle for second best we forsake our own abiliTy our own words because theirs are dOiNg just fine or would iT be more appropriate to say that their words sound more pretty when coming out of theIr mouth so Much more so than when thEy come out of our own mouths that we enjoy the simple ambiance that their voice alone supplies    PLEASE

How about this one?

For breakfast I attempted a second bout of weetbix, with the recommendation of a small amount of milk, and eating it particularly quick. Even with these, I'm not the greatest fan. I ended up topping up with a good old crumpet, with peanut butter crunchy. I still have to say that smooth is better, it doesn't come with that irritating feeling you get when you know something is getting stuck between your teeth as you chew your food. Lunch, sticking with a proven formula, battered fish with hot chips, only this time trying an array of sauces, tomato, tartare, gravy and a "home-made mushroom sauce". Mix any one of these with a small squeese of lemon, and it's almost disasterous! However individually, with the fish and the hot chips, I must say I am once again impressed. (Maybe my standards aren't quite up to scratch... Haha!)  Mix any of the other sauces with the tartare, and you're looking for trouble. Big trouble! It was horrible... However the tomato sauce with the gravy, and the mushroom sauce with the gravy are big sellers for me. After this I wandered for a little, trying to work out what I should do for dinner... I found myself circling around this small pub, just walking along the block, and noticed that one particular man was sitting at the bar, enjoying a rather large, what I assume to be a battered chicken breast with more than ample hot chips to satisfy him the bartender, and possibly three others. So, taking note of where I was, and where I was going I continued to wander until the time came when I was hungry, and I wandered a little bit more just to make sure. Making my way back to the pub I find it is all but emptied, save for the bar tender and one female. I make my way in, unchallenged (unexpected considering it is a bar...) I stand a little back to look at the chalked menu pinned above the bartender. There didn't look to be a great deal. "Spewing chicken, Chicken in-pyjamas, Hot chicken, Steak (with choice of sauce), Fush 'n' chups" Riiiiigghhhhht...... Spewing chicken doesn't exactly sound appetising, I've already had my fill of steak for dinner these past few days, I'd had 'fush 'n' chups' (It took me a little to actually work out what that was...) for lunch, which left the questionable Chicken in-pyjamas, or hot chicken... Being the new and adventurous fool that I am, I had the chicken in pyjamas... It ended up being a sliced, crumbed chicken breast, with diced tomatoes and cheese on top. The first plate they tried to serve me, the chicken wasn't cooked properly... I mean, I cut into it, and I heard it squawking and clucking with displeasure... I had to return it. The bartender was not pleased, with me, or himself, or the actual cook, I don't know. Whilst waiting my replacement chicken the female decided to sit opposite me, I'll talk about that further down. The bartender grunted as he placed the plate down, almost toppling the food all over the table. As for the food itself, it wasn't too bad considering where I ate it, and who had served it. The mix of tomatoes and cheese.. Oh firstly, the tomatoes were quite obviously canned, not fresh. There wasn't that wholesome taste to it, none of that enjoyment you get from eating fresh food. I suppose that's all one can expect from a pub meal, but it still tasted pretty good! Now where was I... Oh yes, the combo of cheese and tomatoes (Another new one for me...) went surprisingly well. Not one for a great deal of cheese, and if I do go for cheese it's normally brie, double cream if I can afford it, but otherwise blue... Off topic... food, dinner, great! Chicken in-pyjamas, alright, could've been a little bit fresher, but at least it was cooked!!!!.. Eventually anyhow...

Now then, where was I in my story... Oh yes, infancy! Great fun! What's your earliest childhood memory? Mine is throwing up all over my fathers face as he lifted me up into the air! What? Like you wouldn't enjoy having that memory as well? Haha! What he failed to acknowledge was that my mother had recently given me a feed, and I was something of a ticklish baby. Every time he picked me up I ended up giggling and kicking about, not because I enjoyed the heights, or the rides (both scared me a great deal), but because he was ticking me! I also remember he dropped me once, because I squirmed too much. I believe that's about the same time he stopped picking me up for fun and games... Shortly after my mother bought me a mini piano. She would prop me up on her knee, and just talk gibberish as she pressed my fingers on a few select keys. After about an hour she would pull out some sheets of paper and point to there, then back to a key, and I would hit the key as hard as I could, just once so I could get to the next key as fast as I could to make the tune sound good! Those games were fun! It's memories like these that take up precious little space which is why I can't remember how to tie my shoelaces, or where we've moved to or from, or (until recently) how to tell the time on my watch...

I did say I was going to talk about that female in the bar, didn't I? Well, you've made it this far, I guess I have to give you what you want.. Haha! She was young-ish, maybe early twenties, short, slender built. Not sure where she came from, possibly Australia? Haha! Such things don't interest me all that much. Anyhow, she sat opposite me, looked me in the eye and said "You look like a trusting fella, not the usual type that come in 'ere..." And from there came a strange version of 20 questions... She asked, and I answered... Then my second meal came, she walked over to the music box, pushed some buttons and music started playing, she went to the bar and ordered herself a drink, she drank it slowly... Slowly enough that I managed to enjoy my meal by the time she had gone through half of her glass. She invited me to sit next to her, I said I'll sit for one drink and ordered a cider. She ordered another telling me I have to drink slowly to let her catch up. After she finished her first drink, I took a sip of mine and she instantly started pouring her heart and soul out. After a little while, the bartender rolled his eyes scoffed and walked away. At that she started crying... Slumped over on the stool, hert hair getting into her drink, not to mention mine... Awkward much? I don't rightly know what to do... Do I give her some dodgey advice, no doubt she's heard many times, no doubt payed for the first few as the advice came from some psych-text book, do I sit here lame, finish my cider and leave her sitting there sobbing... Do I start listing all the different ways she could be worse off, or go with the light hearted approach and remind her of what she does have? I don't know what I'm supposed to do here, if anything... Ok, I can't just sit here and do nothing, her sobbing is getting noticed by passerby, I don't really like the idea of just walking out that doesn't seem right to me. I take a few mouthfulls of my cider and tell myself, I have to do something... I sit aa little closer and pat her on the back. That turns out to be a little awkward for my liking, so I try something different. Stroking her back, rubbing up and down, and then I start to get a little desperate and start whispering, cooing, just trying to calm her... I manage to simmer her down, or rather she runs out of steam, she sits up looks at me, mascara smudged, only made worse by her attempts to dry her tears, and she wondered aloud just what I was doing there, when I could've left her. I told her I wanted to prove her right, that I wasn't one of the regulars, that I was different. She smiled, a broad, toothed grin of gratitude and thanks. After that I took my leave, she waited a short while to chase me and practically beg for a hug... I sighed inwardly to myself, and offered a brisk, warm hug and we parted. She skipped off in the direction that she came from, I turned on my toes and started whistling my way home! Something I didn't think I knew how to do...

Dinner!!

Dinner tonight was fantastic! I mean, prime choice cut serloin steak, well done, with a worcestershire sauce, a little strong and 'tangy' (can I use that?), but manageable, a side of mash potatoes, and a helping of good old steamed veggies. Verry well done, congratulations! Dessert was brilliant! They called it a "lemon jelly slice", from what I could decipher, if was a crumbed base of butter and crushed biscuit, thickened cream mixed with lemon, topped with jelly, of course lemon. (Still a little cautious with jelly... Just something one gets used to I suppose... ) And bavarian!!! Ever had bavarian?? You simply MUST try it! A light white cream, with a chocolate mousse centre on top of another crumbed, biscuit type base... Have I used the word divine yet? Oh! I simply must!! And to not have to worry about cooking, or the dishes, or preparing the food... That is definitely an experience I'd recommend to all! And the best part is, all of it, the service, the waiters, the cheff, all very accomodating, and I didn't pay through my nose for it either... The whole evening, only $10... That, is a night very well accomplished, I must say!

Now, you're probably wondering why I'm going on and on about this food... Good question, well I have recently come back from an adventure, on the Young Endeavour! If I have to explain what that is, and you can't be bothered googling it, you're not that interested are you? Well, that adventure was the start of my new life! Before this, I had honestly never had a crumpet, peanut butter, or vegemite. The only music was classical! And as for television, and radio, and mobile phones, and even telephones, well, just no... The crew of this adventure made sure I didn't go home empty handed, and I didn't! Nor did I make it out empty minded! I've never eaten at a restaurant before, well I have once before, but can't really define it as well as this one, I'm still a little confused about it, so for the interests of my reader, this is the first restaurant experience! Being home schooled does have its disadvantages, to say the least. I've never had any realy friends, definitely no one worth staying in contact with, until now. So, for those people who know who they are, this is for you! A detailed list of meals and likes and interests shall be added to each and every blog, detailing the successes! And the down right failures... An open minded, taste test of the world if you will!

First Post

Llife with two L's is a little about me, more about everything else, and ultimately about my life as Phillip, with two l's, including my experiences, past present, and soon to be future. How hard can that be I wonder? To summarise and surmise eighteen years of life, and then to add to that however much longer one person may live.. I'm told that could be a while, so it's a good thing I'm not afraid of commitments!

Firstly, allow me to introduce myself; Phillip Chalmers Muir, eighteen years old currently, born 16/12/1991. A funny thing happened that day, one too many children were born... At least, one too many came alive. Being a still born for hald-an-hour, I was born dead, yet they still record my life started at 1808, considering I didn't breathe until 1838, I would consider that as another person being born. Who ever it was, didn't want to be, so I started breathing in their stead. Don't worry, my story from there only gets darker, so I'm sure you will enjoy more of that in the later posts. Never fear..

Now, homeschooling, as can be expected, is somewhat interesting. It puts one a head of the rest, in more than one way. Yet holds one back on so many more levels. By four I was reading Shakespear, the first book I read, and enjoyed was Hamlet. To this day I still enjoy reading Hamlet. Though, now my favourite book to read is, oddly enough, the MacQuarrie Dictionary, because no matter how many times over I read it, I still manage to learn something new from it, each and every time. Not unlike life really...

You will have to forgive me if these posts seem somewhat different from your usual reading when sifting through these 'blogs'. You see, until quite recently, I didn't know what the internet was, come to think of it, until recently, I had to ask what T.V. was... Being short for Television, I still wasn't quite sure until I heard the words; "You know, that big black box, with the moving, talking pictures on it? With the smaller black box, with the buttons on it to make the pictures louder or quieter, or change completely???" And instantly, I found in my head a picture of the insides of this machine with my father screaming at me, "What are you doing with the television?" My reply naturally was, "What's a television?" All my father could do was stand there dumbfounded and questioned his own teachings... Afterwards came a four hour lesson on television, what it was (SO not interested..) and how it worked! (THAT's better...) What I was doing with it was of course pulling it apart, as per my nature I had to work out what this massive this in my living room was... Whether or not it was alive, if it bled, or if it was in fact a machine! You should be interested in my theories of man kind and machines! If you've read this far down, I have no dooubt I have at least one devoted reader!!!!

Well, that'll do for now! Oh, please also ignore all spelling or grammar, or small mistakes, without glasses, this is something of a chore! They should be coming in three to four weeks! I'm told that's a little longer than usual... I'm also told that this is because I need specialist glasses. so this is what I am telling you! haha!!!! Hmm... Yes well, more about me later! Now, lets see what the hype is about Google? Any ideas??? I'm intrigued!