True Aussie

Austin had been born and had grown up in Australia. He'd been to Sydney countless times on Australia Day, battled the crowds and enjoyed the festivals all around the big city, with a huge explosion of fireworks come night.

Austin was in his 20's now and back in Sydney for another Australia Day. As he looked out over Sydney Harbor from his spot on the balcony of a bar on one of the top stories of a tall building, Austin began to wonder what made someone a true Australian. It was an age old debate that had been going on for a long time. But it really spiked up around this time, around Australia Day. Some said that you weren't a true Aussie of you didn't get completely plastered with alcohol in celebration of the country, others claimed if you didn't know Australia's history, you were un-Australian. But Austin wondered, was there really any way you couldn't be Australian, or a true Australian as some people said.

Austin didn't think that any of those factors even contributed to whether you were a true Australian or not. Everyone had a different view of what, to them, made you a true Australian. Every single person's opinion differed. Therefore was there any real, exact model of what made a True Aussie? Given the evidence, Austin thought not, but everyone's view differs. So what do you think?

Paradise

Bridget was a girl who had to have lots of mefdical treatment. Medical treatment as any other 15 year old girl would, that she hated. Her mother had tried countless strategies to help Bridget cope, but up until now, none had worked. The day that Bridget got an iPod and discovered music was the same day that all of that changed.

That day's appointment was dental. When it was her turn, Bridget kindly asked the doctors to give her a moment, telling them she'd give the thumbs up when she was ready. Bridget's mother watched on anxiously from a chair along the floor as did the doctors, but they were filled with curiosity and amusement. The whole room watched in silence as Bridget prepared herself.

First, she took the new iPod from her bag and went to the dentist's chair in the middle of the room. Then once she was comfortable laying down, she stuck each of the ear pieces gently into her ears and after scanning her iPod for a short moment, hit play. Then Bridget layed her arms at her sides, the iPod resting weightlessly in her left palm and closed her eyes. Next, she took three deep breaths. There was a few moment's silence before Bridget slowly opened her mouth and raised an arm not too far from the chair, giving a thumbs up to the doctors. The signal that she was ready to start.

At first, all Bridget could see was black. Then slowly, an image began to appear. She was alone on a boat. Behind her, not too far away, was land and ahead was the wide, open ocean. The boat began to drive forward. As it sailed away, Bridget imagined the land she was slowly leabving behind to be her problems and her fears. Problems and fears she was going far away from. Once the land disappeared, Bridget looked ahead, at what was to come. After a long while of travelling on the naked waters, Bridget spotted an island. The island, she realised was paradise. An escape. Her escape paradise.
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Hope you all had a great christmas and New Year. Welcome to 2013 and all the best for whatever lies ahead this year.

Our Island

Mason was the single father of a young, eight year old daughter, Kia. One day, when the weather outside was sunny and warm with a nice cool breeze and the air was fresh from the rain not long gone, Mason decided that today, they would climb a mountain.

When he'd been Kia's age, Mason's father had done the same with him. He'd climbed with him all the way to the mountain's top where you could see the whole city, right out to the ocean. And so he set out to do the same with Kia.


"No Dad!" She complained when Mason told Kia his plan. "I don't want to climb a mountain. Not now, not today, not ever!" Being quite tall, Mason had to kneel before he was at Kia's eye level. "Sweetie." He said, stroking her cheek. "Just give it a go. It will be worth it." He promised. "I suppose." Kia said reluctantly. "Well," Mason said, rising once again to his full height. Kia peered up at him as he continued to speak. "You don't know untill you try, do you?" "I guess not." She admitted.

So Kia and Mason climbed the mountain. When they reached the top, Mason knelt beside his daughter once again. This time, so that he'd be around her height. Mason pointed to an island far in the distance, over a vast patch of sea. "See that island there?" He asked. Kia squinted hard before answering. "Kind of." "That's our island." He told his daughter. Because that island had been in his family for years, and now it was he who owned it. "Really?" Kia gasped, looking skeptically at her father. "Yes." Mason grinned at his daughter who had the beginnings of a smile on her lips. "We can go there any time you like." He promised. "Even now?" Kia asked, excited suddenly. "Well maybe not today." Mason admitted. "But soon."

As Kia and Mason were coming back down the mountain, Mason looked at Kia, a big grin still on her face. "See?" He asked, grinning back at her. "You don't know until you try."

Pure Imagination

"What do you see Lucy?" Asked Rosalie. She and Charlotte leaned forward eagerly in anticipation of Lucy's answer. Lucy squeezed her eyes and concentrated. Hard. "I see a lake. Its shaded. There are lots of trees surrounding it and its lined with rocks. Kind of like a protective little fence. Its a little twisty, but at the end theres a pretty little bridge." Charlotte and Rosale looked at each other, smiling. She was doing it. Using her best abilities to her advantage.

The only thing was, Charlotte and Rosalie weren't there. Not really. No, Charlotte and Rosalie didn't exist. Only to Lucy. They were figments of her imagination. Though she was only 9, she was lonely and so she'd conjured Charlotte and Rosalie from her wondeful imagination and it was they who had become her friends. Despite being only figments of Lucy's imagination, Charlotte and Rosalie were very much their own people. They were unique in their own way.

Charlotte was a very serious, sophistaced girl who was determined, strong minded and was known to have a fiery temper on occassion. Her hair was a rich, deep milk chocolate brown and her eyes a piercing but demanding emerald green.

Rosalie on the other hand was very much a dreamy girly girl who loved pink. She was bubbly, loyal, encouraging and supportive. Her hair was an angelic, rich, yet natural blonde colour and her eyes a soft, shimmering sky blue.

Throughout their time together, both Charlotte and Rosalie had been encouraging Lucy to use the brilliant gift she had in her wonderful imagination. Charlotte practical as always saw it is a convinient, peaceful way to centre oneself and remain calm in difficult situations while Rosalie saw it as a reliable, luxurious means of escape from reality.

As time wore on however, Lucy grew up and matured and so Charlotte and Rosalie faded from existence, though the memories always remained. She remembered them and though they were mere figments of her imagination, Lucy often used the wise advice Charlotte had given her or looked back on the kind words Rosalie had said in times of need.

Later in life, Lucy became an author and, Charlotte and Rosalie served as inspiration for Lucy's most sucessful work. A series written on what their lives could have been like had they been real, living people and on the friendship they'd provided her with and the kinds of people Rosalie and Charlotte had been.

'This may seem a little strange,' Lucy wrote in the acknowledgments section of the first book in the Rosalie Charlotte Chronicles, 'but there are two people without whom this series would not have been possible. Charlotte and Rosalie were my imaginary friends during my childhood and they served as the principal inspiration for these chronicles.' "Because sometimes," Lucy said the words as she typed them on the page, "It is pure imagination which helps us through life's most difficult situations."

Dream Escape

Dreams were funny things. Some said, like in Cinderella, that dreams were a wish your heart makes, your deepest desires, others that they were just weird, random things your brain strung together as you slept. People may have thought that dreams were reflections of our past and some hopes for our future. Whatever your opinion, dreams are somewhat magical. Like a story, in a dream, anything can happen.

Maya Sinclair's opinion of dreams fell into categories one and four. Maya believed dreams were both a wish of the heart and a hope for one's future. Not only were dreams these things for Maya but also an escape. An escape from reality. From reality's tough nature and trying times.

Maya always slept the most soundly when she dreamt, and this day, her dream was something she could not stop thinking of. The whole day it plagued her mind. In the dream, she had been with her mother, who had died when Maya was 3 in a car accident. In this dream, Maya was the same age as she was in the present day, 15. Though her mother hadn't aged a day. She was just the way she'd been when Maya was 3. She was hust the way Maya remembered her. They'd been on a deck somewhere overlooking a beautiful rainforest. There was an outdoor dining set on the deck, white in colour. This was where Maya and her beautiful mother had sat, simply talking. Talking as if her mother had merely gone away for 9 years and had now returned. Maya was filling her in on the events that had occured in her abscence.

At the end of the dream, Maya's mother told her that although she could bno longer be with her, she could be with her in a different way.