Let’s Talk About It


The first thing I have to say is that NO, I’m not going to write descriptions of my sexual encounters on this blog. Not looking at anyone in particular, Bad Dog.

The second thing I have to say is that people are weird about sex. Sex in itself is simple when you think about it.

Other factors make it so complicated though. The practise of sex is performed for different reasons. It can be done as commerce, a display of dominance, to create children, and even for love.

Morality makes sex complicated. Some parts of it are simple for people to understand, though there are some who don’t. You should never force people into it. You should be mature enough to do it, emotionally as well as physically. You should be careful to protect yourself. Then you get to more complex ethics. Some people say that you shouldn’t have sex until you are bound together by wedlock, others will give it away for a smile and a few pretty words. After that, there’s a matter of who you can or should have sex with. And that’s when you can get involved in a million issues involving race, gender, age, class; things that really don’t matter in the big picture when you consider it. Humans are silly that way.

There is very little humanity in Delirium, as you nonexistent readers have probably surmised by now. Though the people there maintain their illusion that they are of a higher class of beings, they are in fact worse than humans; they justify their sin as being their right, instead of feeling guilt. There is the occasionally exception, but I’ve found that those people usually had one thing in common; Daniel.

The reason I don’t regret spending the night with Daniel is because it’s one of the few moments in Delirium where I didn’t feel pain or fear or anger, which I had become so used to in this place. I felt more human than I had ever been, and that’s why I won’t ever forget it.

I did learn one thing though. It’s not necessarily a good idea to tell your friends about it. Even if they’re your dearest friends, they will not pass up the opportunity to embarrass you about it whenever possible about it.

Here’s how they found out. Starting with Kaya.

Kaya was pissed at me. Well, to be exact, she was pissed at Daniel, but she was taking it out on me, there’s a difference apparently. Originally, she was yelling at Daniel, as our dearest Papa Willis had been taken from his cell without him noticing.

However, Daniel assumed that she was angry about another notable event, and he began apologising in his usual non-apologetic way. And when he finally came to his senses that she was talking about something else, it was far too late.

And then she became even more pissed. As if that were even possible.

Whether this was because of morality or jealousy, I’m not sure. Kaya’s motives would always be a mystery for me. What I could never doubt however was the extremity of her moods, so I braced myself for many a rant from my split personality.

Her nagging stayed with me at lunchtime, when I was with my friends in the library AV room. The Evil One, who I should really be calling ‘Captain Clumsy’, arrived on her crutches. “Evil! Perfect timing!” I started.



“You used it on her at recess.”

“Aw, come on!”

I’m not entirely sure of how we got onto that subject from there. I think we started talking about chocolate, because I mentioned how Kaya stole chocolate from the house. But my friends are very talented people, see. And they proceeded to into a conversation about chocolate into one about activities unsuitable for catholic school girls.

Long story short, Lady Delamore ended up giving me a talking to.

“Delamore,” I groaned. Daniel beside me was cracking up. “I am not wearing a chastity belt.”

“Yes you are.”

Before I continue, it might be a good idea to explain Lady Delamore to you all. Lady Delamore is the female equivalent of Slenderman, the seediest man alive, whom she also happens to be dating. Well, almost the equivalent. Unlike Slenderman, she has an abhorrence of actual intercourse, and has made us all promise to her that none of us would get up to any mischief until marriage or our coming of age, which she had helpfully pushed up to 23.

Of course, I had never taken it seriously, mainly because I had deemed myself ‘Forever Alone’. But it also had to do with my natural disdain for regulations and authority which is enforced on me. Which is why the promise which had been extracted from me by Delamore (who was holding my iPad hostage), had never crossed my mind that night.

“So why is Papa Willis allowed to throw away his virtue?” Daniel asks, obviously amused by Delamore’s stance, especially in light of recent events.

I repeat the question to Delamore. “You, my dear, are my baby girl,” she told me. “And you are very precious to me. If I had it my way, I’d lock you up in my basement, that’s how much I care about you!” The last part was obviously sarcastic, but the look on Daniel’s face was pure horror.

“Isn’t Papa Willis precious to you?”


Daniel laughs at that. “Don’t you ever stop making fun of him?”

“Nope. We’re cruel people, Daniel.”

“I’m sorry, but when it comes to your virtue, I-”

I couldn’t help it, both Daniel and I crack up. Of course, they can only see me, but that’s beside the point. It was at that point that the truth began to come out.

Delamore stares at me. “Why are you laughing?”

Everyone turned towards me. I eventually calmed down. “Nothing,” I said, crossing my fingers.

Delamore’s eyes narrowed. “What. Is going. On.”

“I wanna tell her,” Daniel said.

“Don’t you dare.”

I looked over at my friends and went red. “What. Did. You. Do.

“…He says ‘Too Late’,” I admitted to them.

All hell went loose. Snugglepot and Teacup’s eyes went as wide as saucers, the Evil One and Bad Dog started laughing, Pinky and Ducky just went “What?!” and Delamore gave me The Look.

This look has been bestowed upon many a member in our group, mainly when we were discussing topics involving sex. And in a ‘family’ where having a seedy mind was a necessary trait for survival, this happened to come up a lot, and because our ‘family’ consists mainly of teenage boys, these topics were often quite graphic. And as a result, Lady Delamore issued her disapproving stare upon many.

She gave me this look now. “Explain!” she demanded.

“I’m going to leave you to it,” Daniel told me, kissing the top of my head.

“All alone?”

“You’ll be fine,” he said, chuckling as he left the room, abandoning me with all these emotional teenage girls.

They immediately started asking me what happened, and when the assumptions became more and more disgusting, I just yelled out “If you want to know, ask Papa Willis about it!”

“Why does he know and not me?” Delamore demanded.

“Because you don’t have Facebook!”

“We agreed twenty three! That was the agreement.”

“Yeah…about that.” I tried to come up with a suitable explanation, but I ended up just saying, “No.”



Delamore gave me that look. “It’s going to be a long time before I can forgive you.”


“And you won’t do it again until you’re 23.”

I groaned. “Whatever.”

“In Reality, not Delirium.”

“Oh come on!”

Delamore eventually paused in her ranting to message Papa Willis to confirm this tale of woe. It was at this point that Teacup, innocent little Teacup, came up to me and gave me a hug. “I still love you Cat,” she said.

“Thankyou Teacup.”

“So…how was it?”

“…you’re like twelve!”

“Hey, I’m fourteen!”

“Does that really make it okay?”

“I’m just as innocent as the rest of you. Soooo, how was it?”

I closed my eyes, immediately regretting my decision to tell all. “Fuck.”

You started it.

Shaddup Kaya.

I Don’t Feel Like Dancing


I enjoy dancing. As long as it’s under these circumstances:
-The music’s good.
-The dance moves are awesome, or at least, I am capable of doing them.
-I’m with my friends, so they can hide me in case I look like an idiot- which is usually the case.
-I’m also alright with dancing by myself, in my room, where no one can see me- with the exceptions of the people in my head of course, but they are worse dancers than me. Plus they’re not real.


What I am attempting to say, without the shouty capitals, is that my physical education class is doing DANCING. Group dancing, to be more specific, we’re doing a routine. And it is shit. Solid gold shit! My friends MJ and Speedy would probably be horrified by it. And when I say horrified, I mean they’d be on the ground, writhing in pain, screaming, “WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?”

Guess what the opening words of the song are?
“Baby squirrel, you’re a sexy mother****er.”
Quality music right here, imaginary ladies and gentlemen!

In other news, my friends and I are planning to kill some Year 8’s. Hopefully in the most painful way possible. Before I can explain why, however, I have to introduce the members of this merry band of assassins.

Snugglepot- The one who always ends up making references to something dirty- 95% of the time it’s by accident.
The Evil Friend- Overly excited about the idea of slaughtering said year eights, Evil is in love with all things crime, murder in particular. Enjoys writing stories, preferably with lots of gore.
Bad Dog- Obsessed with wolves and occasionally tries to enslave my friends, most commonly Teacup. I’ll explain later, if I can be bothered.
Pinky- Pinky, Pinky and the Brain Brain Brain Brain BRAAAAAIN.

So why would a bunch of girls want to attack a bunch of Year 8’s? The answer is simple. They are picking on Teacup.

Now Teacup is about two years younger than the rest of us, but maturity wise, she is far ahead of her fellow students in Year 8, who are currently spreading rumours about her. And we have not seen Teacup in a week, so you can imagine what we make of that, nonexistent reader.

What confuddles me is how a group of girls, just two years younger than us, could be so much crueler than we were two years ago. Two years ago, the most horrible thing that someone could’ve done was to play Justin Bieber within our hearing range. People knew about bullying, obviously, and knew that people could be horrible, but for some reason, I never really noticed any bullies in our year, though whether that’s just me, I don’t know. People were nice in Year 8. At least to me, anyway, (can’t imagine why). Things are slightly different now, as people get older, and they change, but if we have a problem with something, we either keep it to ourselves, or say it to that problem’s face.

What could be the cause of a sudden change in this generation? Is there a reason why the lower half of the school is the one that’s picking on each other? Why are thirteen year olds the ones who bitch more, opposed to us older humans, who have increasingly more things to bitch about?

Another point for my confuddled brain to remember; there was definitely bullying in primary school, I have clear memories of being called names and being left behind by the other kids. And all my friends have had experiences of being bullied, I’m not the only one. So did those kids in primary school just grow out of it, as we progressed into the world of high school? What factors could influence one group of people to grow out of bullying, but cause another group to participate in it?

Ok, philosophical mode is now switching off…. Stay tuned for updates on this ongoing…thing.

So, imaginary fan base, here is Question of the Day! Yes, I am holding that, no I do not care that just about every blogger probably has one.

What are your thoughts about this? Everyone of you invisible fans will most likely have different experiences, maybe you had bullying in your invisible year eight class, maybe everyone was friends in invisible primary school, and now everyone hates eachother in Invisible High school. What do you guys think has influenced this change?

I leave you with a picture of a sexy mother****ing squirrel. Thankyou Bruno Mars for ruining squirrels for me.


Cat Madigan out.