tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48910667098635092792024-11-01T21:41:04.986+11:00Edge Of Your BedMama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-34171547979171260602012-02-09T20:21:00.002+11:002012-02-09T20:35:54.605+11:00When your body loses all sensibility and starts bringing on unprecedented illnesses, and your family erupts in feud and division. And you're attacked by leeches on some ridiculously beautiful cliff on the coast of the Tasman Sea. And when the one person you thought you could have something real, something awesome with is probably out fucking some other girl in another country on the other side of the world, like the rest of the ones from your past. And when first, your favourite dog in the world passes away and then your stepfather leaves the Earth too and your mother is mourning. And when all you've seen and all you've felt is the wettest Summer and the colour of the once blue Sydney sky is dark grey. And when your job is breaking you but nobody else will have you despite the past six years of your hard work.<div>When your world is filled with suffering and it is colourless and broken, when you're on top of a mountain and still you cannot smile, when your immunity to pain wears away and you cannot feel anything but an aching chest... How can you not ask for this year that has only just begun to be over? How do you rectify? How do you defy?<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div></div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-17172036723854114352011-11-25T13:22:00.006+11:002011-11-26T02:22:34.768+11:00Yet Another Rant on CommunityThe irony of this blog post is the fact that I am writing it in my office where I usually instigate projects, apply for grants and write up budget plans for the community. Unfortunately, on this rainy Friday afternoon, I am feeling uninspired and severely disappointed in the community itself and its lack of activism and mobility. I know I go back and forth between feeling extremely enthusiastic and completely burnt out but that is because ultimately, I am fucking sick of laziness. I cannot wrap my head around how folks in my community can turn a blind eye to certain issues that need to be addressed and talked about, and pretend like everything is fine. Because it's not. Violence is still rampant in my community, misogyny is still alive and kicking, every form of discrimination is still on every street corner. And suckers wanna tell me to surround myself with better people. Hell no. These are my people. But this is all my people have been exposed to so they know no better. They have been told all their lives that their suburbs are shit and that they, as people, are disadvantaged, second-class citizens. I will not "stay positive" and act like everything is peachy. I will stay angry and fight for better conditions and I refuse to abandon those who have been thrown to the gutter time and time again. This shit is personal because when the government storms in on my people and tries to impose "income management" on poor families in Bankstown and the Northern Territory, it is belittling and insulting and I feel it. So don't tell me that I over-politicise everything. Everything IS political. When fundraising companies exploit poorer suburbs in the South-West because rich suburbs won't give them money despite their higher income, my blood boils. Class struggle. Identity crises. Racial tension. Gender politics. Disenfranchised young people. Abandoned senior citizens. It is personal and it is political. And I will not be oblivious.<br /><br />The complacency, the apathy, the complete and utter lack of compassion breaks my heart, injures my soul and tarnishes my bright mind.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-71916119543741042812011-10-03T00:25:00.007+11:002011-10-09T01:11:45.267+11:00Self-Motivational BanalityFuck it, man. If nobody comes to your event, it's all good. At least you know you have been driven enough to put these grassroots happenings on in the first place instead of sitting around complaining about how there's nothing to do in Sydney. Know that you have been taking risks for the past six years through a proactive approach in helping to enrich and foster your creative surroundings. Know that instead of bailing to Europe or, even just across the border, Melbourne you've stayed on and built strong relationships with people who are as enthusiastic as you are. You have seen primary and high school students with fierce agility and energy create something beautiful and you have seen mentors selflessly and endlessly support their younger counterparts. You have played a part in breaking down the wall that separates artists and their community. And there is absolutely nothing more special than the connection you witness, that extraordinary glow, between people of all generations and backgrounds partying down on common ground. You can stand up and say "You may have your ignorant preconceptions but this, right here, is South-West Sydney kicking your lazy arse."<div><br /></div><div>The increments of change may seem fine but they are milestones for the community.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-7514137322000667142011-07-18T19:33:00.004+10:002011-07-20T14:01:57.693+10:00On DivorceAs a young girl, I watched my parents fight frequently. Pots and pans flew around the house as I tried really hard to focus all of my attention to Video Hits and drown out the sound of yelling. My older siblings would try and distract me from what was going on but sometimes, they just weren't around so the blunt detestation between my parents was quite apparent. I knew all along what was going on, and the wider perception of these instances is that when you're below a certain age, you don't really understand the big picture. When I was four-years-old, I was well aware that my mother was unhappy with my fathers choices and that my father no longer wanted to be with her. Divorce was imminent, despite my hopes for it not to be.<div><br /></div><div>I was eleven when my family sat down and my parents announced their separation. Thinking that that was a huge call and feeling as though they were neglecting us as their children, we all dealt with the circumstance in various ways. It was not easy for any of us and I can safely say we all shut down emotionally. Not long after this "discussion", my parents filed for a divorce and the thought of it being official and on paper was crippling. My mother moved to Indonesia shortly after and I resented her for a long time, believing that she had abandoned myself and my siblings. My father went on and continued working twelve hour days to support us, seven days a week but I was far too selfish to recognise his efforts.</div><div><br /></div><div>In hindsight, I cannot think of a better thing to have happened to my family. I know that sounds weird but it's the truth. It took us away from the horrible, conservative Indonesian Muslim community here in Sydney and made us assess their agenda and traditions. It also brought my siblings and I together, in a way that could not have happened if it wasn't for the divorce. Alongside those two important lessons, it also strengthened our bond with both our mother and father by simply making us realise that they had worked hard despite their differences to raise us.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Indo-Muslim community alienated us when my parents got divorced. They spread rumours about my mother cheating on my father and vice versa. I never want to think of my parents as "cheaters" but whether or not that really happened, I will never know. However, I trust my parents enough to be transparent with their past and I take their word for it when they say they didn't. Why would I take the word of a lying, competitive, superficial community over my hard-working, loving parents? I don't know what it was they were trying to achieve by erupting in gossip and pointing fingers. All I know is that we're better off without them.<br />They tried to use Islam against us, which is hilarious because there are verses in the Qur'an that talk about how yes, divorce is not the greatest thing in the world, but should the circumstance call for it then it should be done in an Islamic way, and that is exactly how my parents did it. So that was my main "Fuck you" to that community.<br />The way I see it is if two people do not love each other any more (or never loved each other in the first place) and spend most of their time fighting then it is absolutely their right to put an end to such misery. But of course, it is far easier for an arrogant community to judge rather than empathise.</div><div><br /></div><div>I like kicking arse at everything I do and I really enjoy it when my siblings do too. People often think that kids from a "broken home" are at a disadvantage but that is false. My sister is an incredible Graphic Designer and Photographer who has done work for some of the biggest names in hip-hop and fashion in Australia after graduating from the University of Western Sydney. My brother is an Accountant (without even going to university for it), is about to get married, buy a house and raise a family. My other brother is a multi-talented Sportsperson and a qualified Mechanic from Toyota. I am about to start studying at the University of Sydney and I'm working as a Project Coordinator and In-House Audio Engineer at BYDS, as well as a Marketing/Administration Assistant for Powerhouse Youth Theatre's HERO Project. We're doing amazingly and I'm so proud of how well we pulled together during hard times. And through all of this, my parents were both there to support us, every step of the way.</div><div><br /></div><div>Our family fought a decade-long battle against immigration and as I was the only Australian Citizen in the family, pressure was on me to keep my family in Australia. It almost sounds horrible when I say this but had my parents not divorced, our case would have been weaker. The fact that my father was a single parent reinforced the necessity of his presence in my growing up, as my mother was physically out of the picture. Now the rest of my family are Permanent Residents and my mother is free to enter and exit the country.</div><div><br /></div><div>Divorce is weighty. It's not breezy, and it certainly is not something I'd wish upon anyones marriages and families. However, it is sometimes necessary to remove yourself from a sticky situation and re-assess your surroundings. I fully understand that divorces are messy and often end sour but I also think that our society is far too quick to judge families that have been through or are going through these struggles. I think that with the rise of quick weddings and quick divorces, we need to be a little bit more delicate and understanding of each others situations. All I really hope is that anyone that needs to go through a divorce is supported by their communities, rather than driven out.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-61699166093622101472011-07-11T20:46:00.003+10:002011-07-11T21:04:34.028+10:00It's Not Worthy of Waiting ForSouth-West Sydney owns my heart. It's true. From train rides on the Green Line to long walks around the plaza in Bankstown, I'll never forget my roots. But for some reason lately, I've just been feeling kind of exhausted and burnt out. I feel as though I'm working for the community when the community doesn't even care. The community has become severely apathetic and almost oblivious to their surroundings. I'm not sure if it is because everything just keeps getting worse and nobody has hope anymore, or if it is because not giving a shit is simply easier. What saddens me is I don't know how to change it. No new faces show up to the acoustic shows I organise, or take part in the workshops I facilitate. Hardly any of my "friends" actually support what I and the organisation I work for do, let alone engage in our work so what is the point? Nobody comes out to the South-West to support our artists because all the "arty" Inner-West folks are too busy picking out floral dresses and buying records for their non-existent record player. And if someone tells me it's because we're "so far away" from the City, I'll tell them they're just lazy and boring. How can a hundred people show up at a gallery showing in the City/Inner-West and only ten show up in the South-West? It's baffling. Most of the people that go to those showings in the City are from the West anyway. Do they not see how much potential their own hometown holds?! Sorry about the neg vibes. I'm just starting to get really disheartened.Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-51389873056237904292011-07-06T22:27:00.003+10:002011-07-06T22:42:51.732+10:00Sonic StimulusI suppose it has been a while since I wrote a blog post. I'm writing this now because I'm unbelievably excited about a new track that Jack Bruun-Hammond (<a href="http://corpuscorpuscorpus.bandcamp.com/">Corpus</a>) engineered and features on. Well, it's actually an older song but this is a new version of it. There was also a short documentary filmed about this song and my "journey" by some incredibly talented students from Sydney Film School, which will be screened at their biannual film festival at The Factory Theatre, July 13 and 14. Coming up next will be a music video for this song, written and directed by my one and only wife and best friend, <a href="http://tangledhe.tumblr.com/">Annabelle Z</a>. We anticipate that to be out within the next month or so.<div><br /></div><div>Here's the song, recorded in Jacks weird and wonderful bedroom studio:</div><div><br /></div><div><div><iframe width="300" height="100" style="position: relative; display: block; width: 300px; height: 100px;" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=981027743/size=grande/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=4285BB/" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0">&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://stonocaves.bandcamp.com/track/dew"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Dew by Stono Caves&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;</iframe></div></div><div><br /></div><div><div>In other related news, I'm currently recording more frequently and plan on releasing an EP within the next few months. It will most likely be a five track disc, with some limited editions on cassette too. I'm sure I'll figure out a way to chuck it on the interwebz too for all you lazy bastards. Accompanying this EP will hopefully be an Australian East Coast tour in November. I do hope to also play some shows in New Zealand while I'm over there in December. If you have any connections/suggestions, let me know and I will be forever grateful.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Shit's gettin' real, son.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-62063252471244916172011-04-29T19:42:00.003+10:002011-04-29T20:03:17.264+10:00Throw Your LoveI often feel as though prefacing any piece of text ruins it however before anything gets muddy, I would just like to clarify that I am in no way an expert on socio-political issues nor have I been involved in radical actions in the grand scheme of things. After all, it is an ongoing learning process.<div>What I do know is that us human beings are ferocious and though we use that ferocity in god-awful ways to pleasure ourselves, we are also highly capable of being compassionate, empathic mammals. Perhaps the coupling of that fierceness and instinctive compassion would allow room for us to grow together. I know this sounds severely romanticised and it is often what many anarchists speak about but I think the reality of it is, we have seen a beautiful relationship between these two instincts evolve into what we now call the Arab Uprising. Though there is bloodshed and copious amounts of death and destruction, there is also a new wave of hope that has taken over. Never in my life had I imagined a revolution of this sort to happen.</div><div>A lot of Westerners are under the impression that this uprising is distant but it is not. It is in every place you look. A very brief example of this is when Egypt overthrew their dictator, the Egyptian families in South-West Sydney danced in their victory - Copts and Muslims held hands. Now Syria is under fire and every Syrian man I speak to in Bankstown has deep fear in their eyes. </div><div>I choose to stand with the Arabs throughout all of this. The Wests "democratic" structure and form may not work within the Arab world and it's not up to us to make the call. I believe the people know best and the people will make the decision.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-10764641290881945222011-04-22T00:08:00.006+10:002011-04-22T00:15:12.019+10:00Stand Tall<iframe title="YouTube video player" width="460" height="249" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AdXYfW0xoUU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><div><br /></div><div>This is Indonesia. With all the corruption and poverty, this is Indonesia at its absolute purest. It's hard not to come across as nationalistic - even though as far as "nations" are concerned, technically I am Australian - but this makes me so damn proud it brought a tear to my eye. This is all soul. Listen to the percussion and observe the synchronisation. Feel the history. You don't have to be Indonesian to be ecstatic about living in a world where treasures like this exist.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-38164863831823726162011-04-18T20:49:00.005+10:002011-04-18T20:56:16.208+10:00How We Do<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyWIlksnOcr-1TcR8vQaRBpwpMKZDLmgeduS6l6Ozr70H2hb35Tshb-502t1WlObWxaDK3-mhKXG7b4JmgzpKe-jFYA6OSnEW5mFkJVTOzEqG3ARVyN8bSqlnLXRJ1Me9MXJYT4M67clM/s1600/221592_10150169263738897_516848896_6807791_7710625_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyWIlksnOcr-1TcR8vQaRBpwpMKZDLmgeduS6l6Ozr70H2hb35Tshb-502t1WlObWxaDK3-mhKXG7b4JmgzpKe-jFYA6OSnEW5mFkJVTOzEqG3ARVyN8bSqlnLXRJ1Me9MXJYT4M67clM/s400/221592_10150169263738897_516848896_6807791_7710625_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596875127511042706" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZy6CAs-CnWMQAEI4v-vxE2dRFvCRI1TzQLkFvXFaIXSG2j_1G0KXUzb-Gbn0Dfs1q1xdCW3AUXsL6z26LEU96FZgpJ58F-6KxBefqR-yJAzWaBBU7sYfr_KhcjIOBBJkq9xS3VP6PG2s/s1600/220965_10150169263803897_516848896_6807793_7247698_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZy6CAs-CnWMQAEI4v-vxE2dRFvCRI1TzQLkFvXFaIXSG2j_1G0KXUzb-Gbn0Dfs1q1xdCW3AUXsL6z26LEU96FZgpJ58F-6KxBefqR-yJAzWaBBU7sYfr_KhcjIOBBJkq9xS3VP6PG2s/s400/220965_10150169263803897_516848896_6807793_7247698_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596875036977944610" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3HI2srVZy_06n96dz6SjYwr1fD6uvvbrJrskVOXzpJ_YU-zXNvKYSCZMxzLa9YamK5dyqoyr6PPhAn4bdihTSkuInh73J8KB-9KiuMdhbPYHD2fzazJvH5MT4hBzCQTwD6ZWxpeda2Zk/s1600/220270_10150169263628897_516848896_6807789_3465190_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3HI2srVZy_06n96dz6SjYwr1fD6uvvbrJrskVOXzpJ_YU-zXNvKYSCZMxzLa9YamK5dyqoyr6PPhAn4bdihTSkuInh73J8KB-9KiuMdhbPYHD2fzazJvH5MT4hBzCQTwD6ZWxpeda2Zk/s400/220270_10150169263628897_516848896_6807789_3465190_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596875028624604402" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS04YnloWNy5LsZb-2xZwUIDcafXxccW_Ipv7tV_WUFQDIY_80GEgWa6UByoceFgtRYD5K-SBMQDmdM_1-HolRopgM_ZXfh6nbolxrjampb2K6Z7e9R9oVhX5_iouswz6hZe7sMFU7hI0/s1600/220218_10150169263558897_516848896_6807785_6523010_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS04YnloWNy5LsZb-2xZwUIDcafXxccW_Ipv7tV_WUFQDIY_80GEgWa6UByoceFgtRYD5K-SBMQDmdM_1-HolRopgM_ZXfh6nbolxrjampb2K6Z7e9R9oVhX5_iouswz6hZe7sMFU7hI0/s400/220218_10150169263558897_516848896_6807785_6523010_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596875022923007746" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZoKsBACwoarAHQvuzK7wuSnyx8BI29aUn7gBDw0WM9gjgmtkq5aacbPZwyP7iMEv6lpoP2vAvPyFHOvzy9tz-86BMKE9KAfSnfwyf6eA9Gas26rRGCLDGL27sxnIqVZVCqcYPtS4ziGM/s1600/221325_10150169263518897_516848896_6807784_2372336_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZoKsBACwoarAHQvuzK7wuSnyx8BI29aUn7gBDw0WM9gjgmtkq5aacbPZwyP7iMEv6lpoP2vAvPyFHOvzy9tz-86BMKE9KAfSnfwyf6eA9Gas26rRGCLDGL27sxnIqVZVCqcYPtS4ziGM/s400/221325_10150169263518897_516848896_6807784_2372336_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596875021263054690" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifgZkjgbv5ntqMjbAw-lBLfj76OlDbGl-NYetbZ9mMiOxhJQeyPDcq0FopjeUrwt87mCENTbpFIXnKZOR1HzIN660o7as3bNcEhtvgXJwhud1cf3Z18DpRqfc3bQUhPUJztNmWW2X22M4/s1600/218320_10150169263268897_516848896_6807777_5723100_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifgZkjgbv5ntqMjbAw-lBLfj76OlDbGl-NYetbZ9mMiOxhJQeyPDcq0FopjeUrwt87mCENTbpFIXnKZOR1HzIN660o7as3bNcEhtvgXJwhud1cf3Z18DpRqfc3bQUhPUJztNmWW2X22M4/s1600/218320_10150169263268897_516848896_6807777_5723100_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifgZkjgbv5ntqMjbAw-lBLfj76OlDbGl-NYetbZ9mMiOxhJQeyPDcq0FopjeUrwt87mCENTbpFIXnKZOR1HzIN660o7as3bNcEhtvgXJwhud1cf3Z18DpRqfc3bQUhPUJztNmWW2X22M4/s400/218320_10150169263268897_516848896_6807777_5723100_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596875021802296850" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifgZkjgbv5ntqMjbAw-lBLfj76OlDbGl-NYetbZ9mMiOxhJQeyPDcq0FopjeUrwt87mCENTbpFIXnKZOR1HzIN660o7as3bNcEhtvgXJwhud1cf3Z18DpRqfc3bQUhPUJztNmWW2X22M4/s1600/218320_10150169263268897_516848896_6807777_5723100_o.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Photos by Jack Bruun</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-52459868382900066252011-04-10T21:48:00.000+10:002011-04-10T21:51:22.947+10:00Abdu’l-Baha, Divine Philosophy, p. 111<div>"The greatest gift of man is universal love – that magnet which renders existence eternal. It attracts realities and diffuses life with infinite joy. If this love penetrate the heart of man, all the forces of the universe will be realized in him, for it is a divine power which transports him to a divine station and he will make no progress until he is illumined thereby. Strive to increase the love-power of reality, to make your hearts greater centers of attraction and to create new ideals and relationships."</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-51570837240763689322011-03-11T22:39:00.003+11:002011-03-11T23:15:12.605+11:00The Dark(est) YearRejection after rejection after rejection. I won't blame galactic realignment for my issues this year and I won't blame shitty people... mainly because I've cut all ties with people who make me feel worthless. So I guess the blame can only lead to one other person and thing: Me and my functionalities as a human being. You know, my inability to let go of everything that I broke and ruined, my ability to ruin everything and uhhh, my obvious self-hate. I just want a good job where I'm guaranteed hours. Sitting idly and watching the clock tick like heartbeats is taking away from everything I ever learned and making me dumber. My muscles hurt from stagnation and my eyes droop. My heart longs and my brain is glitchy. I'm exhausted but I haven't even moved. I feel like I'm just running away from everything again. I have never been this lost before. I was always the one with the stubborn sense of direction and though that crippled me a lot of the time, it also helped me. Now I'm the flake, the indecisive one and I don't see much of a future.<div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-58818285601221023132011-03-06T19:26:00.002+11:002011-03-06T19:31:57.202+11:00NeyPerhaps I just don't possess the right spirit to play ney. I want to. It's all I want. The simplicity of its natural timbre is like no other and I want my breath to bring those sounds out. But I just can't. After numerous videos and tips, I am still only able to make the tiniest whistle but I'm beginning to think that that's just my imagination.<div><br /></div><div><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/pCsgDszjynI" frameborder="0"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-49245320670330341262010-08-31T02:30:00.006+10:002010-08-31T02:36:42.851+10:00Abandonment?Hello!<div>As some of you may know, I'm heading to the States for six months... tomorrow! I will most likely have fairly limited access to the internet (which may be an excellent thing) so I will be leaving this blog for a little while and posting at <a href="http://touringthelight.blogspot.com/">Touring the Light</a>. If you go to that page while I'm traveling, you will probably be able to keep track easier.<div><div><br /></div><div>Cool! Okay! Take care!</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div></div></div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-74273504516391869902010-08-21T20:55:00.006+10:002011-02-21T10:41:53.272+11:00A Photo of Someone You Love<div>I couldn't choose between my mama and papa so I'm cheating and uploading photos of both of them. I'm also going to elaborate rather than just post photos that wouldn't mean much to anybody else.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZfdpYoatqodf7KVtwwLZ7HTxW6K4FxkiqGIyJFqJhS6_Fr7NZYcTYhyphenhypheno-qsuawZ6YHf8h2qbzdyWs8udRxoKgYic4X-CTC_5S3BmaGzx8sBUrS6fqYEVORmTwoJAcg9mtkw2gF__4P9I/s1600/IMG_0476copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZfdpYoatqodf7KVtwwLZ7HTxW6K4FxkiqGIyJFqJhS6_Fr7NZYcTYhyphenhypheno-qsuawZ6YHf8h2qbzdyWs8udRxoKgYic4X-CTC_5S3BmaGzx8sBUrS6fqYEVORmTwoJAcg9mtkw2gF__4P9I/s400/IMG_0476copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507821288682423506" /></a>Mama was always a fighter. She took care of seven younger siblings, dropped out of law school, rode dirt bikes all over Indonesia and listened to so much classic rock it'd make your ears bleed. She traveled around for most of her early twenties years, all over Europe and the Middle East. She raised four children and gave them everything they wanted but always taught them how to speak politely and appreciate and return every single kind gesture. She adopted a sick baby a few years after she moved back to Indonesia in 2002 who is now a healthy, hyperactive three-year-old. She still travels constantly around South-East Asia. To this day, she pushes boundaries and stands up against the greedy and is envied for her patience and strength wherever she goes.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZ8XDFelgY42wHi3vJTHmkKqjDmRDIfn7p9GmolQgUs_B_zhqNoJXHEOS5qr-GToTaNp9MnbcTioVEMWo5nOn0X95dHRWvsGZ4d1jQt1bMdW9i5tI5PmnvCtj2aH8QmH8UNw2ekCUpZ0/s1600/DSCN0094copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZ8XDFelgY42wHi3vJTHmkKqjDmRDIfn7p9GmolQgUs_B_zhqNoJXHEOS5qr-GToTaNp9MnbcTioVEMWo5nOn0X95dHRWvsGZ4d1jQt1bMdW9i5tI5PmnvCtj2aH8QmH8UNw2ekCUpZ0/s400/DSCN0094copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507821278496785762" /></a><div><div>Papa dropped out of university when he was studying psychology on the grounds that he was "bored". Now you know where I got my restlessness from. He moved to Australia to study aeronautics and became a pilot in his early twenties. After a few years back in Indonesia, he came back to Australia and brought his family over in hopes to raise his kids in an opportunity-filled country. He won a fight that lasted more than a decade against immigration scumbags. He ignored the criticisms of the hypocritical and big-mouthed Indo-Muslim community. He worked sixteen-hour days/seven days a week in order to raise four kids almost single-handedly when ma left for Indonesia. He is the embodiment of perseverance.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div></div></div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-65891602441363700522010-08-12T22:15:00.003+10:002010-08-12T22:46:24.254+10:00Faint HeartI was engineering at a youth forum in a council building. Unnoticed, I carried on with my work which involved panicking when some dickhead stands in front of the drivers with a microphone and gaffa-taping leads down. The usual. Nothing flash. I'd been up since 4am for sahur and caught a train at 6:30am so obviously I was quite braindead. I overhear some words that make me wake up: "There's meant to be fifty kids but five dropped out" and "It's 8:30am but there are only thirty people here". <div><br /></div><div>What is with young people and our bullshit unreliability?!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am sick to death of my very own generation with our smartphones that let us cancel on people with ease, our lack of a sense of urgency and our super-fast internet that breeds procrastination. I don't understand why we think it's fine to string people along and allow ourselves to be strung along. We click attending on Facebook events but never really show up. Do we know how goddamn hard that makes life for the person organising the event? It's bad enough without unreliable people screwing it up for them.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's the thing - I'm nineteen and I grew up with new technology and new media. I am no vintage enthusiast and I can safely say that the advancement of technology has opened new doors for me, as an audio-engineer-in-the-making, a future traveller and as a human being in general trying to find my identity. But the thing that provokes my animosity towards this high-speed evolution is the fact that some people are already unreliable and this is simply perpetuated by the world of social networking and text messaging. </div><div>Nowadays, you don't have to confront someone (and in turn, witness their emotional reaction) personally to tell them something that is generally hard to address and/or discuss. Where is the fucking courage in that?! Grow up, Gen Y. I don't want to hear about misunderstandings and break-ups and cancellations over email and text. I don't want that type of cowardice - which I'm so very guilty of - in my life anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div>We load Youtube videos to listen to music and never really experience, let alone understand, the high quality of CDs and vinyl nor the compelling art that often comes with it. We are lazy and I admit it but I certainly do not want it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I want endless, barren roads and open bushlands. I need to see lakes and rivers and the generosity that Mother Nature offers. In fact, I feel like such a fucking cop-out going to Chicago - an English-speaking, tech-savvy, easily-accessible city. I guess I just feel the need to get out of here but it certainly ain't bravery running through my veins. It's probably just the fear of staying in the same place for far too long. That is what we are. We are agitated and we always want to be on the move. Though that could be a good thing, it's also shit in that we expect everything to move with us and everything to be fine when we want change.</div><div><br /></div><div>You might wonder why I'm posting this on my blog considering I'm trash-talking new media but it seems to be the only way that people will read it. And even then, I can't seem to hold anyone's attention if my posts exceed 140 characters.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the words of my crazy generation: epic fail.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-67133138512278266702010-08-10T22:17:00.004+10:002010-08-10T22:46:16.182+10:00Sonny, Stop the Car by Corpus<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5M8A6ABAq0yrDIlzqKw_NO8do08-iSt3zRTa1U0Gqv1zJt-fq-H9swD7PGtJWOCufw1AQ0zeN1YhcbvprYNct5aQpf0VClR2p0EvO9vfVeki4YN3Pa-4Y8wWeg8DQDlGRbwoU5dYAf4/s1600/corpus.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5M8A6ABAq0yrDIlzqKw_NO8do08-iSt3zRTa1U0Gqv1zJt-fq-H9swD7PGtJWOCufw1AQ0zeN1YhcbvprYNct5aQpf0VClR2p0EvO9vfVeki4YN3Pa-4Y8wWeg8DQDlGRbwoU5dYAf4/s400/corpus.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503761128528277954" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Jack Bruun-Hammond and Keiron Steel (aka Corpus) are two of the coolest cats I know, hailing from the North-West suburbs of Sydney. They tear up every stage they embrace and create artistic explosions with every song they compose.</div><div><br /></div><div>On June 5, they released their unreal album "Sonny, Stop the Car" at SFX, Space Bar and like previously stated, they tore that stage to shreds with hearty vocals and furious notes pushing out of Keirons' vocal cords and guitar strings and an unmatched furiousness that Jack drove into his drumsticks and onto the skins of his drums.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://cache1.bigcartel.com/product_images/23594451/300.jpg" /></div><div><br /></div><div>The album is simply wild. Knowing that Keiron has always been interested in Middle Eastern scales, it's no surprise when the album opens with quite an Arabic sounding guitar riff. But of course, there's more to it than just one type of influence. When the second track "Grassy Knoll" begins, the listener is taken straight into their punk and grunge roots. My favourite bit of the whole song is when Jack sings with utmost passion "So I'm standing at the edge of the bridge/I couldn't help but to watch you fall/But I had, I had places to be/And people to see". </div><div>These boys are real, genuine songwriters and genius composers. Their lyrics are cryptic yet so realistic and it's so easy to get lost in this album and be fine with doing so. It's fun, it's insane and it is actually quite carefully engineered and written. My personal favourite tracks would be "You'll Hate This" - even though Jack says it's too poppy - and the title track which leaves only one word to describe it: epic.</div><div><br /></div><div>You can find Corpus <a href="http://www.myspace.com/corpusmusic">here</a> and you should definitely hit up their next show which is this Friday (August 13) at World Bar in Kings Cross.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EWlUg-uKwYymsoHQUMj8rBChRXShyphenhyphenJWDyUxsvcXwmzQyE8uhk5Li-mBJnydUEAab_GBITbaOsfZfDpV_UenPNPBlsXSVIjr9W-VtYuDYgNOrQ1et3FDdd_dbXlt2GHPhL61gvpR24w4/s400/corpus2.jpg" /></div><div><br /></div><div>My favourite pair of talented little cookies have made me so fucking proud, once again.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-77353753429145395782010-07-16T11:07:00.009+10:002010-07-16T12:45:07.939+10:00Edifice by Al-Thawra<div>It's been a while since I wrote about something important...</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBosNgUbNhLes3dCPpymg-s5uvKZI0nYKDgGdXBeCnkeooOZFOR7O1doo_K8yXNjB9FjBEMBN2ku246r3qH1-FoY9fVIoQqeeNUMR_qunyFxLW_O9I8TE1756UGS1xb0PWV2dHp_YrryE/s1600/15726_397424177445_42825027445_3946819_5183659_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBosNgUbNhLes3dCPpymg-s5uvKZI0nYKDgGdXBeCnkeooOZFOR7O1doo_K8yXNjB9FjBEMBN2ku246r3qH1-FoY9fVIoQqeeNUMR_qunyFxLW_O9I8TE1756UGS1xb0PWV2dHp_YrryE/s400/15726_397424177445_42825027445_3946819_5183659_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494309512042459410" /></a><div><p class="MsoNormal">If you haven't heard me rave on about <a href="http://www.myspace.com/althawra">Al-Thawra</a> before then you must have been living in a cave. And just in case you have been living in a cave and have decided to step out into the world, I'll give you the lowdown.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Al-Thawra is a crust punk band from Chicago, Illinois with influences coming in from all directions. I guess we could start with the punk thing and list bands such as Crass, Discharge and Amebix but it most definitely does not end there. With a goal to align Middle Eastern instrumentation alongside meticulously orchestrated samples and the simplicities of punk rock, they are a true representation of cultural experimentation... whether they like it or not. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Al-Thawra is Marwan Kamel, Micah Bezold and Mario Salazar playing furious music, fuelled by dissent and conflict. They may not tackle issues head-on but they speak in a tone most people would not usually hear and they certainly question the hell out of all aspects of our modern world, from the reason why kids are dying in the Middle East to the suffocating authoritarians of Chicago. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">And the punks love 'em.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">On June 19, the three M's released their second album "Edifice". With three pairs of helping hands and an enormity of enthusiasm and talent from <a href="http://www.popsensationproductions.com/">Pop Sensation Productions</a>, they headed up to Madison, Wisconsin for an intense weekend of recording which naturally resulted in an agonising frenzy of sounds, adequately showcasing their vast range of influences.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The album begins with a psych-up of an intro and it doesn't wait for you to get comfy as it soars into "Beneath the Edifice". It continues with just the right amount of "flow" from song-to-song to distinguish between the diversity of tracks but at the same time, maintain the same level of stamina throughout. It most definitely does not fall short of energy. Songs like "Eviction Sama'i" provide the album with colour whilst the sounds<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>embedded into songs like "Truth's Eternal Sun" and "Gaza: Choking on the Smoke of Dreams" define the severe passion of the band and with beautiful transitions such as the one from the interlude "The Exile of Hope" into "Mundo Y Carne", Al-Thawra have proved that punk does not have to be three powerchords played over and over. Punk music can be cleverly engineered (big ups to Dustin Boyle - love that kick-drum sound and the haunting psychoacoustics, man) and scrupulously arranged.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I won't dissect each track and talk about their individual highlights because you cannot skip tracks on this album or turn it off half way. It is a journey in itself, like an acid trip in sepia and it's best experienced from start-to-finish without stopping. I mean, I haven't experienced a trip in sepia but I assume that I would hear Edifice playing in my head if I did.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, to get the full mind-exploding experience, I suggest you don't buy the MP3s off Amazon like a lazy fucking shit but rather, go and pester the band about buying a physical copy as the songs will be a lot clearer and defined and you will get the beautiful art in it too.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I hope whoever reads this admires this multicultural, multilingual and multi-awesome band just as much as I do.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://althawrapunk.com/">http://althawrapunk.com/</a><br /><a href="http://www.myspace.com/althawra">http://www.myspace.com/althawra</a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">-S</p></div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-47507120190054747432010-07-11T18:04:00.003+10:002010-07-11T18:09:08.875+10:00To the North<div style="text-align: center;">Keep the spaces around you clean and your mind clear.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Never ever ever live in fear.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Pray when you believe in it and not for the sake of it.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Open your heart but guard your soul.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Eat what tastes good but know your limits.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Stand up to the tyrants and for the tyrannised.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Stay calm, keep loving, drink plenty of water.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Do not trust anybody ever again.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-16027544951038379022010-07-05T21:47:00.002+10:002010-07-05T22:08:15.006+10:00If You're Listening...Bismillahi-r-rahman-nir-rahim.<div><br /></div><div>Dear universal force,<div><br /></div><div>It's Stoney here. I'm not sure if you've noticed but I've been working really hard lately. I got through intense weeks of TAFE and am currently working full time and casual technician jobs to earn some money for my big trip and get some experience. I also cook and serve weekly at People's Kitchen. I don't expect instant gratification or anything like that but throwing one of the hardest things I've had to deal with at me at this very moment in time was pretty uncalled for. I do not have the time or strength to handle such negative energy. I am struggling to cope but I am forcing myself to otherwise my heart will break and my body will cave in response.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>If this is a test, I'm losing my shit. If this is a test, I'm wasting my breath.</i></div><div><br /></div><div>I cleaned my room on Saturday - like a madwoman. There was not a speck of dust in sight and the floor, desk and wardrobe are currently looking immaculate. This was meant to be the beginning of a hopeful and driven me. Unfortunately, however, I have been feeling a little bit shit and I really don't want to feel like this anymore. I know I must get over it but it is still fresh in my mind and painful. Some may say I'm forcing myself a bit too much considering it's only been a few days but no, I do not have a choice. I must say, the amazing friends you gave me have just been infinitely loving and caring and generous so thank you for that... But I feel like my recovery from this ordeal is taking far too long as I cannot afford to have emotions holding me back from the things I have promised myself I'd do.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know if you see the determination in my eyes and heart or the passion in my soul but it's there and I need you to recognise it because nobody else does, especially the one person I hoped would have. I am tired of trying to find an inner strength I simply do not have so please, give me strength and patience.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know I don't give you much but I don't ask for much either. Just this once... please. I am exhausted.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yours,</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Amin.</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-20887693507130259382010-06-08T12:09:00.004+10:002010-06-14T20:29:05.288+10:00NAILS<i>Inspired by the Watch Him Bleed zines by Ivana Stab. Mainly dedicated the womyn (in hopes that they will find similar strength) but applicable to anyone.</i><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">The "you" in this instance is a collective "you" because everyone that I've ever cared for has screwed me over and don't deserve the time of day to be individually named and shamed.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Resilient, they call me. And though I don't believe them, I know I've endured an ungodly amount of painful experiences. I am not tough or butch; effeminate or sensitive. I am, however, happy and proud to call myself me, inadequacies included. And you, you fucking arsehole, have helped me realise this.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">You always picked her over me and you always pointed out our differences. But I don't even want to be her anymore because I don't need to be. I don't need to grow up to be glamourous or even worse, a mediocre nine-to-five gym junkie. That shit just bores me and come to think of it now, you would have bored me too.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">You never gave me a moment to feel proud of who I am and what I've become. You wouldn't even make the slightest effort to just, for one second, tell me that I was worth your time. So if you can't even crack a smile when I tell you something awesome that I've just done then well, these tears will fall for you no longer.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Today, I sit here happy. I work my arse off everyday. I walk through rain and wind and a shitload of heartache yet still try my best to stand up for the subjugated. I fall down every single day and I get upset at the tiniest, pettiest things but I will not fall without gritty determination to get back up again.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I have not reached my biggest goal but you better hope you're still asleep the morning I do.</div><br />-SMama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-69635219564501960392010-05-11T22:22:00.002+10:002010-05-11T22:30:30.197+10:00I'm Flawed, Nice To Meet YouI'm short, skinny, hairy.<div>I'm angry, tired, moody,</div><div>Agitated, complicated,</div><div>Careless.</div><div>I am most definitely the most stubborn person I know.</div><div>I work hard but I burn out,</div><div>And end up losing all hope.</div><div>I wish I was the strong and stable person I pretend to be.</div><div>I'm helpless,</div><div>And on the edge of being worthless.</div><div>I am the most annoying drunk,</div><div>With meaningless ideas.</div><div>My lips are chapped,</div><div>And my skin is rough.</div><div>My feet are awkward and my toes even more so.</div><div>I pretend to know more than I do.</div><div>I never know how to finish things.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-51543003688159796292010-04-22T20:30:00.004+10:002010-04-22T22:16:30.689+10:00Your Palms Are SweatyWho would have thought that one change in my life would have so much impact on all the other things I surround myself with?<div><br /></div><div>Yesterday, I did a job interview. Last night, I got a call back. Today, I started training. In two days, my soul has been confronted with a strange mix of feelings that I'm actually grateful for. Dreams to travel finally seem a lot more real than they did three days ago and I feel like I'm actually working towards something rather than sitting at home doing nothing, hoping for employers to call me back. And now when I leave TAFE, I won't dread the long ride home on packed trains as I only have four stops to get to work and by the end of my shift, trains home will be emptier. This job is all evening work and Saturday day shifts so it still gives me the chance to study, freelance for forum theatre work and live PA system work and go to shows!</div><div><br /></div><div>It's a shitty thing to do, you know, calling people up on autodial and asking them to donate to a charity you don't know shit about but in the end, we've all done things similar like this. There's a gorgeous lady I look up to named Lina who once said "You just have to do what you have to do... even if that means creating a different persona for your part-time job. You don't take your work home with you. You leave that other girl at work." So I've decided my name is "Asia" at work (both for spelling and escapism purposes) and she's a happy motherfucker who doesn't take rejections to heart and is as strong as steel. The second I walk out of that building I'm back to being Stono/ey.</div><div><br /></div><div>To my friends, thank you for being awesome people throughout my job hunt (and just in general, really). I know I was probably a terrible, depressing person to be around so I apologise for weighing you down. Sadly enough, I won't get to see you all as often anymore - not that I was the best at catching up with people - as I'm studying twenty-one hours a week and soon I'll have to start working a compulsory twenty hours a week too. I'm sorry in advance for I may become a bit of a tight-arse and a hermit crab. These next few months are going to be hard and heavy but I kind of need to do this.</div><div><br /></div><div>On Saturday, I begin proper work. The journey has actually begun and I'm just as excited as I am scared.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-39632030090257366002010-04-16T00:15:00.005+10:002010-04-16T00:29:29.913+10:00Your Ocean, My Grain<div style="text-align: center;">I'm sort of sitting in a mess of emotions right now and I hate it more than ever. I hate that I sit in bed thinking about things you say over and over and over again while you're off being famous. This is not some glorious journey of friendship but a daily labour I've undertaken with diligence for you. I've stretched from here to every place you choose to stand and I don't ask questions; I don't expect answers. </div><div style="text-align: center;">We both enjoy the synchronicity sometimes but most days, it's hard work just to get you to look up. I don't whinge about it or make a fuss but I don't sleep either and I don't focus when I'm meant to. You can steal my energy, my light, my strength and transfer it into your heart.</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Thank you" is nice but "I love you" would be better.</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-14782779161361689722010-04-04T20:42:00.004+10:002010-04-04T21:20:22.678+10:00Oh Hey There Mind, Haven't Seen You in a WhileI've been thinking a lot about the hijab lately - just passing thoughts that question the perspectives of the people I know, the people I see on the streets, the people that simply see pictures of me etc. It's strange because I've always thought that people instantly knew that I wasn't what the media had portrayed young hijabi girls as but I guess I'm wrong. <div><br /></div><div>Maybe when I walk down the street, my not-your-typical-Muslim way of dressing isn't enough to deter one's attention from the fact that I appear to be covering up the hair on my head. Or maybe the mere fact that I'm actually at a gig dancing and thrashing around isn't enough to say "Hey, I'm not right-wing or conservative or oppressed".<div><div>It's not that I'm actively trying to make these statements but it just scares me so much that the stigma that surrounds a covered girl can be so strong that people who claim to be so open-minded still look at you and ever-so obviously treat you differently to other people - a handshake instead of a kiss on the cheek, the "Oh sorry, no offense to you or anything" statement.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't really want to be pointed out. I know I've written about these things before but I don't know, it's just been on my mind a fair bit lately. Maybe it's because even when I actually do try and be somewhat "flirty" or "friendly", I just come across as "really nice". It's like I have to try twice as hard when it already requires a shitload of psyching up for me to simply muster courage to talk to someone cute.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm actually scared of good-looking people. I'm scared to talk to them because I don't want to make them feel obliged to talk to the nerdy kid trying to start up some conversation and in turn, embarrass them in front of their friends or other good-looking people. Most days I just feel like some stupid girl who knows nothing about this whole human interaction thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>So why can't someone approach me and not reserve themselves because they think I'm reserved? Why can't someone say "Hey, can I buy you a drink?" instead of awkwardly try to decode my personality through cryptic questioning? </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm Stono. I wear a hijab. I don't give a fuck about your religious or non-religious beliefs so I hope that one day you can ignore the black cloth covering my head and ask me out on a date... or something.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUgtWT4LfKZ7EW3kQdU0qqzJ7vt3V9JmdjUzz8mPMUezMAwJ2oH4ma-1H-Ec2h4JwdFLIxcXjOQDWH1_LE6s-bKyLzcccS64LvbsUAJAqizdoPJA4lb4pZCh_GkBAMi7_NzQfglznlhrs/s400/princess-hijab.jpg" /></div><div>Image by Princess Hijab</div><div><br /></div><div>-S</div></div></div>Mama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891066709863509279.post-82804797100296896422010-03-01T18:45:00.001+11:002010-03-01T18:46:50.471+11:00I've Got Books to Read and a World to Save<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/A6psrEBVEng&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/A6psrEBVEng&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />And I miss you, Chris.<br /><br />-SMama Furyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16205024544672999830noreply@blogger.com0