Posmella's New Writeups

November 13, 2009 (personal)

2009-11-13T10:18:20Z

Because it's always a good idea to tell people you love them if you do.

I can lay no claim to ten years as a user, E2, but I've been here a while. And I've avoided GTKY during that time, so hopefully I'm allowed a small, self-indulgent meander through some memories. Ten years. It's unreal. It is no exaggeration to claim that this website brought me up, and that it changed my life.

Eight point four years ago, I was a naive, geeky, 15 year old girl. My brother introduced me to a website, and its front page was a piece of writing that made me laugh. While that piece of writing left the site fairly rapidly (culled in the days of "earn your bullshit"), the fondness I first felt for this place has remained. Eight point four years later, with high school done, three degrees, various relationships, and the beginning of my career behind me, I can't imagine how much different…

backpacking (how-to)

2009-06-24T03:37:44Z

Backpacking Made Easier. Maybe*.

Why Go Backpacking?

So you want to see the world, but you're on a budget. Or maybe you want to get amongst some true cultural experiences, and not see the sanitised version out of the hotel or tour bus window. Or maybe you just like a challenge.

In any of those scenarios, you'd better like a challenge. Backpacking can be hard.

It can also be the most rewarding experience of your life.

Backpacking: to travel somewhere with only the clothes on your body and the possessions on your back, and maybe enough money to get your way back home; to learn, to live, to make mistakes, to grow.

Before Heading Off: What to Take, and What to Leave Behind

The Absolute Basics (What Backpacking Is Not)

Backpacking is not about materialism. It's about comfort and practicality. Let's repeat this point: comfort and practicality. You do not need your Xbox, your GHD, or your cellphone. You…

no more bitter. i am full. (poetry)

2009-04-27T06:03:01Z

catharsis.

the emptiness of your departure was sudden and complete.

i curled alone at night,
leaving your side of the bed untouched
in case you left a ghost

i was haunted

remembering those times happiness shimmered in my eyes--
hands running under sheets, breath mingling &
the slowsweetslide of you within me--
and the way you pulled me close after,
using your arms and…

The words beneath her words (poetry)

2007-07-19T09:27:28Z

"I love you, baby-"
, she begins,
flicking cigarette ashes too close to my shoes

       makes me think of days
       -- past? future?
       blessed days
       where joy could be bought for a
       two-scoop icecream

       of course, now disdaining joy -
       "too naive"
       "so passe"
       "abused by capitalism"
        - she prefers eyeliner and smokes
       (although she'll recycle her Starbucks cup)

       she thinks its equally
       tragic
       to be a sub-culture as it is to be
       mainstream

       there's no winning with this one

Me, sitting, as she
inhales
(with disdain)
exhales
"-but not that much..."

(Of course not, it would be too Hallmark.
But the fact that she lets me in this far
tells the
lie in her words)

and the ashes flick
flick

Involuntary Dialogue (personal)

2006-04-20T08:46:31Z

He said heart, and I said head. He laughed, so softly, right next to my ear (kissing it for the briefest of seconds, warm weight, and gone...). You're cute when you're stubborn he said, but I couldn't get angrier, not with that smile. That smile, the cheekiness of a bulletproof child, the seduction of a sunlit bed of clover...

Listen:
I did not give you permission to take up permanent residence in my head. But you did anyway, didn't you? Eyes tracking me around the room (don't think I couldn't feel the heat on my back), smiling when I glanced across. A little more of me captivated each time. Oh, it's…

May 26, 2005 (personal)

2005-05-25T22:15:37Z

This was not this day. It was another. But the sea was the same.

Panting and grinning, the boys stand over me, hands on hips, and drip water onto my slowly-roasting back. I mumble into my beachtowel, but this doesn't make them go away.

...drip...

"OK, OK, fine! I'm coming!" I stretch, and roll onto my side, shading my eyes against the glare. The sea. The Southern Ocean... waves rolling with extreme strength, straight from Antarctica.

We laugh, and sprint towards the waves, down the golden sand-waves, feet unsteady on the shifting sands.

And we're running slow-motion into the freezing water, ankle-high, shin-high, knee-high, thigh-high...…