Ben Lee

Swearing is a sign of stupidity. By not swearing, you encourage a
higher level of insulting, to put it in the words of Dylan Misso. Then
again, he’s the one who cried out "Someone’s nicked my spare pair of
undies!" in the all boy’s school change rooms. Smart one Dylan.

At any rate, I’m pretty cheesed off. Not swearing, see? It’s harder
than you think, when you feel like.. er, something bad. Like er… a..
er… whatever. Smooth vocab, eh?

Well, I thought I would say that I got a fine of $50 for riding on a
train without a ticket. I thanked him for it, but I have much to learn
about playing different parts. It was the one day I had to forget, but
I thought that I would play with fate and see if I could get away with
it. I learned my lesson. Gambling is a bitch.

Gamble everything for love, gamble everything. Put it in a place you keep what you need…


I’d just like to apologise for that last entry. I was having a pretty dodgy night, and ended up punching the wall as hard as I could. I didn’t mean to connect fully, just graze the surface, but a good term to use here would be, "I lost control". There’s now a small dent to remind me of ‘the night I lost control’. A hammer on a tree is a better alternative than a fist on a wall, too.
At any rate, sorry ’bout that, ignore all the cussing and swearing. My career will come and go in the end, but it doesn’t really matter. Something I’ve realised (but haven’t given much thought to- there’s no point in being depressed) is things will always work out in the end. If they don’t, and you die, well then so what? You’ve finished life, no more problems. Things ALWAYS work out in the end, except that final time of death, when no things in life matter anymore. So really, live life happily, there’s no point in dwelling on the sadness, for when you’re down, the only other way to look is up.


Holy fucking hell, I don’t believe this shit.
I’m not allowed to study psychology when I leave school? Oh boo hoo, it’s for stupid people, it’s a waste of talent! 69 in your TEE (final exams out of 100), what a waste John! Well guess what! It’s what I want to do, it’s what I’m interested in.
For the first time I can remember, I raised my voice (seriously) at my mother.
"You want me to get a job that will pay well!"
She probably does. Something that can earn respect. Wouldn’t a doctor of psychology fit that description? Oh come on…
EDIT: Well I found out that if I study psychology seriously, I’ll be 30 when I start work. How’s that for a sucky life? Perhaps a behavioural scientist. I don’t know. I’ll have to wait until I see what paths lead where and what I can do with my options. God I’m fucked up right now.
DOUBLE EDIT: Wow, look at that. My future’s being fucked around with right now. Doing pharmacy instead of psychology, meaning I have to re-select all my subjects next year, and will probably end up doing a harder maths course and physics, two subjects which I rejoiced in being rid of forever. Well fuck that shit, I think I’ll just run away from home and drop out of school entirely. I can join the military or something and steal a plane to get to Singapore and Ivy and I can elope to Hawaii. Yep, that’s Plan B. Plan A is to wait until I’m thinking logically, and come up with a new plan.

The impossible

I get the feeling I’m going to regret writing this entry, but just for the hell of it, I’m going to.

We started revising probability in maths today. 0 is impossible and 1
is certain. I stuck up my hand and everyone groaned, knowing it was a
stupid question/comment that only I cared about. Sadly enough, it was.

Nothing is impossible. Nothing is certain. There is some slight chance,
however tiny, that absolutely anything can happen in the world. "What’s
the chance it’s raining?" Mr Presser asked his Year 12 class. I
answered that it could have been an illusion. Perhaps something was
throwing water over the school, or installed television screens over
the maths class window, but there was a chance it was not raining. Of
course, nobody agreed with me. Mr Presser showed mercy though. He
admitted I could be right.

He then went on to an example of a marble in a box. You can shake it
around in there forever, but it’s probably not going to leave the box
until you open it. However, there is not a 100% chance it will stay in
there. He explained (in basics of course) a theory of quantum mechanics
or something along the lines. I had long since known he had a Physics
Minor from university, and what I comprehended it to be was that the
marble could appear simultaneously outside the box for a split second,
and that the chances were so slim it would only ever happen once in the
entire history of the Earth. Something to do with the particles moving
faster so time slows down. At any rate, I was right.

I also confirmed it with Mr Presser that no matter how many times you
drop a stone, you do not know whether it will fall to the floor or
float to the ceiling. Experience is not always a reliable teacher.

Of course, the class laughed, ridiculed and mocked me. Their jeers
haunted me for a little while, Binuk suggesting I try and punch a tree-
my hand might go through it. I have a theory that he could be right
though- if the particles moved so fast they simple passed
through/around the matter. Or the tree could have been a hologram, or
made of paper or something similar. At any rate, I was feeling pretty
crappy with myself. Nobody in the school seemed to believe the
‘impossible’ was capable. Mark believes in me though- Luca that is.

I felt like making it kind of a quest of mine to come up with something
that can do what people believes is impossible. An invention that would
make me rise up above all humanity, just to prove to them that I could.
"Everyone believes I will fail. I believe there is no such thing as the
impossible." Quote I wrote in my notepad. At any rate, I wonder what
people would do if I spent my life rattling a marble in a box and it
appeared outside of it simultaneously. Would they eat their words or
pass it off as an illusion, or they blinked while it happened?
Something tells me no matter what I can prove, the world will still
hate me for it.

Stupidity at its finest

I have something of a confession to make. There are three boys in Year
9 (one year below me) that all find it positively hilarious to piss me
off and see how far they can push me without snapping. Oh how I desire
to bash their worthless heads in- at least that’s the impression
they’re giving me. All they seem to exist for is to express their
negativity towards the chorale (they got in on scholarships, so they
had to join a musical group) and particularly to me. All they seem to
do with every breath is to insult, and with every joule of energy,
impose it on other people for no reason. They crack stupid jokes about
sex and looking rank, and insult everyone that tries to talk to them.
They’re barely controllable at all. One of them happens to be
Chazwozzer’s (Patrick’s) cousin, too.

They nudge me in the back, they ruffle my hair, they poke my arm, and
wherever I go, I am haunted by callings of "Jimbo" and "Jimson".
Actually, it’s "Jim with a G" but that’s a different kid. I also have a
few year 8’s who’ve taken to calling me "Johnny" in addition to the
ones that call me "Jonmashel" in that horrible voice.

I mean, I don’t even frigging get it. They don’t know me, nor anything
about who I am, but somehow it spread from the Year 10’s to the Year
9’s, and now the Year 8’s. It was Christian McCloud (and apparently
Pete) who started the whole "Let’s say John’s name in a manner that
will piss him off to no avail!" thing, and the Year 9’s caught on as
quickly last year.

What have they got to gain? Pissing off a complete stranger, what point
is there in that? Seriously. Isn’t it an instinct to look after your
own kin? Doesn’t helping others bring insurmountable happiness? Then
why the hell do they decide it’s more fun to drive a guy nuts? I’m
seriously getting close to killing them, or at least that’s the extent
of my fantasies. Just snapping their necks, or someone else’s, to let
them know what I’m capable of. And they click in my ear to say "Snap
Jimbo, snap!" What imbeciles!

A ray of Hope

A while back during the Performing Arts final concert, there was a
story that I thought was absolutely beautiful. Four candles were lit in
the darkness of the Perth Concert Hall, and they were titled Hope,
Peace, Love and Courage. It was a beautiful story- each of the four
candles shone through the darkness, until a character dressed in black
called Despair or something similar, came and blew them out one by
one.  The music and the atmosphere was so very tragic. A little
girl who had these four candles suddenly found herself being consumed
by the night time, like there was no light left for her in life… But
with Hope, the candle that had not stopped burning. She brought it to
the other three, and once again their light shone out. I think it bears
a powerful message, one I hope not to forget.