Gracie Abrams; Sydney Night 2

Hi,

Gracie Abrams has started her run of shows on The Secret Of Us Tour around New Zealand and Australia with her opener, Ashe and I was lucky enough to attend the second night of the Sydney leg. We bought the tickets when they were first released last year so this has been a long and exciting wait.

When we first arrived to the venue, all I could see was bows, skirts and pastel blues/yellows. This is to fit Gracie's aesthetic. I too was wearing a navy blue shirt, striped blue & white pants, red converses and a red bow in my hair. The crowd surrounding the outside of the arena had a very homely feeling. It was mostly teenage girls and they were conversing with one another, often rather excitingly despite having never met before. Multiple girls asked me to take photos of them while I did the same. Though I was not General Admission, I did wander over there and those in the line were trading bracelets as well as discussing their fangirl moments, even if they had probably just met each other a few hours ago. It probably felt like one of the safest spaces and it honestly was like one big friend group. 

The merch line was also relatively simple to get through. I arrived later than I normally do to a concert and upon sight, the line wasn't enormous with the staff exceptionally friendly. I got a Secret Of Us Tour hoodie (very good quality) and I am definitely wearing it as we approach winter. I also had some nachos next to the merch tent and while it was expensive, they gave us so much sour cream and guacamole, that it was worth it.

After we passed security checks, with our bags making it through smoothly, we arrived to our seats to find we had an amazing view. I was honestly closer than what I imagined and could see the B stage covered up. When Ashe arrived, even through my terrible phone zoom, you could still spot exactly where she was on stage. She was amazing! I only knew a few of her songs but I definitely recommend checking her out. Ashe got us hyped and ready for Gracie as well as singing a cover of 'Vampire' by Olivia Rodrigo to make the audience go wild. 

Gracie, or her team, picked out some amazing songs while we waited for her. She knew her target audience and most people were singing along so loudly, that you might have thought the concert had already started. When she did arrive, the cheers got so amplified and I thought my ears were going to pop. She hasn't even arrived yet and the stage hadn't given any indication she was about to start, but those down the very front could see some movement and started cheering, so we followed suit. 

Gracie sung a two hour setlist with some incredible songs on it. I lost my voice at the third because she played Blowing Smoke, which is one of my absolute favourites. I was up on my feet for most of it, and of course I videoed the whole thing. Most people say it ruins the experience of the concert but I prefer having them to relieve the experience. I just hold my phone but still sing, vibe and even if my videos come out shaky and not instagram-worthy, you can still look back on them. I prefer the ones where you can hear me screeching because you know I had a good time. 

During her surprise song, she sung 'This is what the drugs are for' from Good Riddance. I had been discussing what song she might do before we entered the arena, as she had only done covers for the Aus/NZ leg of the tour so far, and I said, Good Riddance. When she started introducing the song, saying, 'its from Good Riddance', you better believe I screamed 'I called it'.

When she had wrapped up, with 'Close to You' to get everyone on their feet, and actually left, I was left with a sense of astonishment. I always end concerts with the feeling of 'it actually ended?'. Then we were caught up in the crowd of everyone trying to escape as well as the loud voices ringing around dissecting the concert. Made it home right on midnight.

I had one of the best times ever at TSOU tour and Gracie sung, danced and entertained us for a massive two hours with some banger songs (still hoping that one day I can hear Best live) and I only have half a voice left the next day.

Here's a video of Gracie singing, 'That's so True', (video owned by me):

Until next time!

April Check In

Hey,

I just wanted to come on here and say thank you so much for all the support from the past years as I've been growing this website. To show you some real-life data, I present a side by side comparison of how big this blog has grown in just a few months. 

September 8th, 2024

April 18th, 2025

In just 6 months, over 8000 people have looked at my stories, whether they be the same person or different people and I just wanted to send my appreciation to everyone. Although I originally started with just writing fictional stories, I have now branched out and wrote all different sorts of pieces, whether they be about my life, pop culture or my accomplishments. I hope this page continues to grow and all readers find some resonance with my stories.

Thank you for reading my words and continue sticking around in the future for more!

torment or be tormented

"Envy, jealousy, agony, they seemed to fill me up, so full yet I could not throw the infested emotions away."

This is a few paragraphs of a story I adapted from another narrative I wrote that intended to show self loathing and anxiety at the world. We are forever being asked things of us, and many of us are often sensitive and fearful of what those requests may be. Some people get scared to order at a local cafe, much worse when having to ask someone to help you in a clothing store. Although it isn't finished, I hope you can understand that the man may be perceived as a lunatic, laughing at his interactions with others yet disappearing into his emotions when alone but many of us live like this everyday. 

I had no presentiment it would all end differently and began to feel somehow terribly sad at that moment, like laughter was beginning to stir in my soul. An incredulous kind, for what else could a man do but laugh at difficult moments? A discomforting response, only a thin veil stitched over the truth. No, my ruminations remained tucked beneath my ribs, fluttering in the deep hollows of my chest, its breath caught in the threads of my reluctant smile. I fear my insides will cave within, buried musings gnawing and gnashing, relentless in pursuit yet fearful of rejection. For what else could a man do but mock his sorrow and smile at the weight of his anguish?

The sky splits open and the gods of heaven battle, with their acid tears scalding the quiet purity of night with their hands twisting in furious grasps, clashing like old lovers turned enemies. Their war songs beating, drowning the earth beneath the weight of their madness. My heart very nearly seems to claw out my chest, the trees shaking and shuddering, bones breaking. 

I am a tangled knot of burdens, my mother ruefully prophesied staring at the same water that beheld at my feet, the jagged edges of my own heart pressing into my ribs. The sharp sting of grief creeped in, curling around my throat and choking the air from my lungs. Goodness in the universe did not seem to find me. Envy, jealousy, agony, they seemed to fill me up, so full yet I could not throw the infested emotions away. They grew within until my heart seemed blackened with contempt and anger, until the mere glance of a stranger seemed to rise a frustration that little could quench. Why was I angry at everyone? All the time?

Before I perceived what unfolded, the woman not far in front of me, kneels over, wheezing and coughing but her laughter rang atop the bucketing of rain. A hysterical smile had grazed her face and her body shakes with insanity. She unleashes a guttural scream that was sure to awaken the monsters of night, pacing the bridge, her chest heaving with every sob, and her hair flung carelessly to one side, appearing forlorn and unkempt. Salted tears fall upon from the heavens above, staining the ground beneath our feet. She stares at me, her tears growing fiercer as the rain fell faster. She seemed to wait for something. 

My heart slams against my ribs and I seem to have quickly forgotten my past musings. It is a frantic rhythm that can not keep time with what's occurring. Laughter echoes from within, sharp and hollow, a brittle thing that slips from my throat. The world has stilled and my laugh is a splintering crack in the air, a sound torn from the gut, twisted with fear and disbelief, it claws out, torn from a place too ugly to name. This ringing laughter does not make sense yet I cannot silence it. 

The woman was waiting for something, why was I laughing at her silent request? It seemed natural to respond with laughter as anxiety filled me. Could I fulfil her request? Would she silence me and go on her way if I kept laughing like a lunatic? That seemed more viable than to converse with her. 

made cookies!

I did some baking this month and I thought I'd show you some behind the scenes. I had a little kit that included a pan to make a chocolate chip cookie and I took some photos. While it did taste like a chocolate chip cookie, it definitely looked more like a pie. Enjoy!

before the cookie got put in the oven

i put it in the oven!

its cooked!

a yummy slice!

It tasted very good! Nutella was smeared throughout the middle although it could do with a bit more chocolate chips but since it was a box mix, I didn't think to get any more chocolate chips. 

:)

a tale of rejection

Hello 2025,

This is definitely one of my most favourite scenes that I've written, so enjoy:

The heavens beckoned forth water, thundering down until man could only find composure in the warmth of light, moths to a flame. He stood, a deformed and unusual creature of the night, water pouring down his back, drenching his clothing and he stared blankly upon his reflection. The scene contrasted itself. He stood near joyful instruments, yet could not summon one ounce of joy himself. Swings and slides sat beside him and if the man closed his eyes, could hear the exhilarated screams of children with their wars consisting of the struggles of stuffed toys and action vehicles. He could not return to that round oak table where he spent plenty of midnights pouring over pages, arrogance etched within the scratchings of paper. 

For he pursued a role of critical importance, and perceived he would obtain it by end of week, so assured of his achievement he cast aside his fellow competitors carelessly. His unchecked smile engulfed his wearied face upon completion and his worn out shoes tapped beneath the forewarned desk, revelling in his joy. His assurance became his downfall, for they frowned upon certitude and exiled him to humiliation to mortify the poised. The man had spent the hours succeeding in a blinded craze, contemplating his chances to deviously announce his accomplishment within domestic entanglements but with modesty and humilty, of course. He spun at his chair with childlike exuberance, sat through dinners with his family grinning wildly but kept his mouth woven shut in a constrained countenance that seemed vulnerable to implode. And implode for seemingly improbable answers he did. 

At the reflection of these harrowing notions that seemed so foreign to the miserable man, he so crammed of suppressed resentment and self loathing, closed his eyes and reached into his pocket. Rain continued to fall in an intense rage, reflecting upon the misery of its companion. The scene unfolded within his mind. He had gripped the laptop with his hands, shaking in anticipation. He was alone, his wife had left him for a cross country retreat, his children enclosed in their respective schools and he could not halt his eagerness. But when the screen had lit up and the answer awaiting was displeasing, it wasn’t disappointment or anger that engulfed him. The man had only felt fear. Frightened, that denial of the worst had escaped him and was now ill prepared to face the selfish unseemly. Panic raced against his skin, his arms becoming ice cold and his fingers shook against the cold metal of technology. His body could not move, and he could not even attempt to reread the lines succeeding his failure, instead he sunk into a state of torpor, idle and apathetic.

Out from his pocket, he procured the letter for of course he had it printed. His resignation towards his fate was alarming to those he loved. Where was the drive that had once seemed insurmountable to overcome? His failure became the culmination of his existence, like dominoes the rest of his life fell. His wife never returned, and he discovered she was having a tumultous affair and was left to raise his offspring by himself. His children detected visible signs from their father, for they were perceptible to one who encompassed their world so dearly, and started to act out to gain favour and attention. 

But perhaps his spite was most felt in those that he had fallen against. Hands of allies often wrapped themselves around necks of the revered in a spiteful pit of envy and hatred. A coward’s shield, of sorts. Jealousy had emerged from his void of frustration, rising as naturally as humanity could repress. It stemmed from the inability to truly express his anger, tied by society’s custom, to admit praise and laud champions of peers, and consider the feelings of friends. Yet, the incessant loathing of man’s mind whispers at him in the depths of dawn. And the thoughts that he tries to bury into the open grave, wrap around one’s soul until the mere glance of friend is corrupted by perception and your heart blackened by contempt. His friends had sensed his gradual disappearance from social life, unable to comprehend but unwilling to extend attention. 

The man was utterly and entirely alone. Holding the paper aloft to an audience of none, the rain fell and in a few agonizingly slow minutes in the thunderous weather, the paper was reduced to nothing.

And the man allowed the water to wash away his miseries.