When you get into a hot bath after a tiring day 

~ Izzi  

You can almost hear a hiss of

pleasure as you sink into the hot water, your aching bones

instantly relax, your mind at ease. All the stresses of the outside

world drift away with the steam, twisting and twirling and escaping

out the window. The feeling of utter relaxation drifts down the rivers of your mind, turning your vision rose

gold and baby pink.

Your tensed muscles are worked loose by the healing power of warm

water, the scent of leisure, that irresistible vague scent of contentment. The rippled water stills as you do the same, the milky swirls of soap fade

into nothing, a sigh fills the room and everything slows...

You feel so at rest you could just… slip… away.

AWESOME!

 

POP GOES THE BUBBLE WRAP  ~ SCARLETT 

 

  

I rip open my parcel, simply because I just can't wait to attack it.  And by it, I mean, the glorious, the wonderful, bubble wrap.  

 Resisting the urge to pop each sphere and satisfy my inner child, I study 

the small bubbles, just waiting to be popped. Laid out conveniently. Then wrapped and parceled straight to my sweaty little palms.  

Then. the fighting takes place and a spectacular sound explodes out of the thin plastic mounds.  

Snap. Crackle. Pop.  

Anticipation shreds my brain. How far can I push it? Will it pop? But in the end it always does, with a defining POP. so I start the process all 

over again.  POP. POP. POP. 

 But now, after all that satisfaction, glee and anticipation, guilt floods my 

mind; a raging river carving its way through my happy, content thoughts. In these days of environmental friendliness. I will now, always 

feel guilty when I satisfy my inner child.  I will always feel guilty when that spectacular sound explodes out of the 

thin plastic moulds. I will always feel guilty when I hear that SNAP. CRACKLE. POP. breaking the silence of a room.  

Why isn’t bubble wrap reusable? It would be SO much more satisfying.  But still. The feeling is. 

AWESOME! 

 

Sophia’s Awesome Moment 

 

 

As the sweat trickles down my forehead, I reach for the cold can of pop. I flick the tab as the click fills my ears with pure joy. The refreshing liquid floods my throat,

sending my mind to heaven. Feeling the sun burn down on my newly hydrated self, I go for another sip. Instantly

it runs down my throat once again.

Trudging through the door, a heavy layer of rain coats my jacket. Carelessly, I dump my bag on the floor. I flick

my shoes that have trapped my feet all day. I plonk myself on the couch and begin to slowly rest my eyes. The annoying day is trapped outside. Nothing bugs me

as gently I fall asleep.

Awesome!  

   

Bubblewrap  ~ Tuhina 

 

Pop! The puff of air instantly shrivels down into a lifeless dot. Are you hungry for more? A little voice inside you

whispers as you calm down with the oily plastic swimming beneath your fingertips; each pop sending

jolts of satisfaction through your body. Shivers run down your spine as you run your hand along the bruised and

battered piece of wrap.

Just as you think every single airy bubble has been popped … the withered wrap floats to the ground as you stamp with poise on the last remaining bubble. Before

that squint sized balloon could grasp on for dear life, it’s life had been taken. Aah!! Those feelings of joy, pride, satisfaction mould into one as you walk away to find a

new piece of bubble wrap.

AWESOME!

-When that idea you’ve been waiting for just floats into your head-

~ JAMES

YESS! I hiss-whisper as that sneaky idea comes creeping

into my head; the same idea that fled and hid when it was supposed to be in my head, ready for putting onto paper

via pencil, an HOUR AGO. It’s annoying, frustrating and yet satisfying at the same time. As I ignore the stares and

whispers of the other lunch-eaters at school, I get out my notebook and continue the story. All the words just fall

into place, it’s like the characters are acting the story out; the world becoming more real, more fleshed out, more

whole as I am writing. I know how the story goes now, how it should end, and why the characters are there, what their

purpose is. As I finish, I look at it, and a smile of pure satisfaction creeps across my face. It’s just so amazing.

Awesome!

The First Sip

~ Cara W

Warm but, not too warm. Cold yet not. It’s just right to bring warmth to your chilly insides. The liquid running down 

your throat, winning a marathon. Finally!   

   

When it gets to your belly, it feels like there's a small fire in the pit of your stomach, warming every place it 

touches. Repeating for the next couple of sips you take until the cold that once surrounded you is history...until tomorrow that is. Winter is a Wonderland that can be 

intoxicating and dreadful in one.  

Awesome! 

The feeling of splashing water on your face

after you wake up ~ Orla

You wake up.

You wake up, and in that moment of bleary-eyed and messy-haired panic you fall out of bed.

Cringing on the cold wooden floor you close your eyes

and will yourself to get up, not seeing clearly but prying yourself up and off the floor. You pad

across to the bathroom barefoot, watching your shadow creep along with you.

Trying to avoid the creaks of floorboards you open up the door and

squint your eyes up when it squeals in protest. Ignoring it’s calls, you creep into the bathroom and move towards your goal.

The tap.

You pull the cold silver towards you and your hands frantically cupping the cold, wet and you splash it on your face.

Your instincts wake up and it is then when you can see clearly.

AWESOME!

The Couch

~ Kate L  

Exhaustion fills you.

Every move towards the front door is an eternity. Every ounce of energy left in your body pushing to get inside. The keys fumble in the lock. The relief as the

door pushes open you sink into the couch. A sense of peace overwhelms you as the couch

envelops you in comfort.

The stress of the day leaves you as quickly as it came. Closing your eyes as you lift your feet up

and rest it on the arm chair.

And you’re already asleep.

Awesome!

Hearing the first Christmas song  of the season 

~ Lola 

The streets seem deserted and lonely; the sun

unbearably torrid, your feet aching in your cheap Kmart jandals. The day is so… dreary, and identical to every other. Then suddenly- magic, so faint you could have

imagined it. Could it be?

Your suffocating trudge resumes, until the sound- the jubilant penetrating, repetitive sound of Christmas. Now you notice people’s subtle grins; you bask in the warm sun, and those jandals are quite a pretty colour, even if they weren't $2. Life is good. Life is vibrant. And… the

most magical time of year is finally here!

AWESOME!

Eating a piece of celery… Sophia B 

The most satisfying vegetable of them all. Celery.

It’s so good, you don’t even think about its green colour.

So solid yet soft, the perfect texture to snack on. Snap it.

Then crunch. It slowly breaks down in your mouth

and as you chew you can almost fell those crackling sounds.

A tingle works its way down you neck to your spine. A grin spreads from one cheek to the other on your face

as you go in for another bite.

AWESOME!

 The smell of an old book 

~ Jan 

You sit down at the table, gently opening the cover of

your favourite old book, making especially sure that you don’t break the fragile casing. As you marvel at the text, the smell hits you. The slightly musty and slightly weird smell of a beautiful ancient script. The reading of these

books is guaranteed to be better than most, mostly because of this wonderful thing,

this smell that they give you.

AWESOME! 

When you finally open a wide set jar...  -Shannon 

 

You know that feeling when you’ve been struggling to open a jar. No matter what is inside it, there is always a random jar that refuses to open. But eventually, when you feel like your calluses will never go away, and as though you’re blisters are about burst... it happens.

The pressure releases and you hear a satisfying POP! Then you see the new product emerge.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

AWESOME! 

 The moment you open a sketch pad,  

and your mind blanks.  ~ Nathan 

You’ve just gotten a brand new sketch pad. All the way home you’ve flicked through the crisp, pristine pages. They beckon to you. The

moment you get home you rush upstairs to your room. Sitting down at your desk, you sharpen a pencil to the finest tip possible. It only hits you

when you open the sketch pad.

What now?

You’re idealess.

Absolutely nothing in your brain for you to consider. Nothing. Nada. You should just wait till an idea pops into your brain. But the pad just calls to you, like it needs to be filled up. So you put pencil to paper. Before you know it the entire page is filled with awful, unintelligible scribbles. You’re better than that! You scold yourself. You tear out the page. You should REALLY go do something else, other than this. But what can you say.

It beckons.

AWESOME! 

 Long Words 

~ John 

Just… the supercalifragilisticexpialidocious glory of using seemingly unending words; handing you momentary greatness implementing internationally recognised

etymological masterpieces therewith fragmenting cross-national record-holders categorically expanding consecutive nine-letter-plus unpunctuated

hyphen-excepting locutions. Ahh… the beauty of long words.

The boldness in Year 1 of using because—in absolutely every writing. The happiness in Year 2 of using happiest, close to breaching because by usage.

The flowering Year 3 use of empowering, the suffix ‘ing’ everywhere. The metaness of Year 4 use of ampersand, & you still can’t draw it.

The google search: Year 5 looking up antonyms of synonym, vice versa too! The unclassicness; figuring out in Year 6 unbeknown > unbeknownst in origin.

The etymological beauty, recent Year 7 tangent including etymologically. The future beholds—what will Year 8 give for utter word craziness?

Words beckoning to be used, I sometimes feel like my life is as a sesquipedalian

dreaming for those beautiful words, poking pencil to paper, picking out the keys for each word, not bothering to use 10 fingers, just landing index-finger to the keys, the

keys of a writer’s life.

AWESOME! 

!Stopping the microwave  just before starts to beep! 

- Sascha  

 The ever-so-satisfying and self-fulfilling moment of

stopping the microwave at just the right time to stop it from beeping.

Your hand shivers, quivers and shakes in anticipation.The numbers whir down, slowly winding to

an inevitable halt. As sweet the aroma of your meal creeps through the unsealed openings of the microwave

door, you crank your hand back ready to strike the bulging STOP button.

5, 4, 3, 2… 1 !SMACK!

AWESOME!

When you fall asleep watching the news. By Evie  

 

On the edge of total and full relaxation and harmony within. The sweet, sweet relief of your 

heavy eyelids clasped loosely over your drooping eyeballs; the tingling, warm pricks of warmth 

invading your body. The monotone droning voice on the screen filters through your eardrums 

somewhat slowly and rhythmically  like a hypnotic lullaby,  

on the precipice of dark, swirling rivers of rest.  

Then you take a small step over the rocky cliffside. You toss and turn in the brisk wind as you plummet further and further towards the dark, dark abyss below. You keep falling but you become lighter and lighter until your floating down like a discarded piece of paper. Slowly. You reach the bottom and suddenly you’re aloft on a soft, pillowy cloud-like surface. It’s wonderful. It tremendous. It’s sleep.   

 

 

 

When you finally get a jar open -Emily G  

 

Tension coils up in my fingers, knuckles turning 

white. I try to force the jar open but it. Just. Won’t. 

Budge. My fingers cramp up, my face burns 

crimson. I just want to open it; is it glued shut with 

super glue? My brow is furrowed in frustration. My 

hands seize and I know it is no use. But, of course I 

try again . Once again, my fingers cramp up and 

my joints ache. I force my fingers around the rim 

and the flesh turns a pale cream colour. Click. 

Instant release. My muscles finally relax as the lid 

pops off. Glee crosses my face as I hold the jar in 

my left hand the lid in my right. Finally, all the 

force, all the effort, for pure satisfaction. 

AWESOME! 

 

 When you are dying of thirst and then quench 

it with a cold glass of water.  By Evie 

 Water. Water. Now. I need it. Water. Now. Water. Your minds spins with recurring thoughts. You’re nearly home. A few more metres and you’ll be through that door like Usain Bolt, and chugging water down like a machine. It feels like quicksand tugging at your feet, threatening to pull you under. Pull you away from where 

you need to be. You’re panting like a dog and sweat is cascading off your sticky, flushed forehead, but you continue to battle on. The sun might be able to beat 

you at other games but not this one. Today you will win. Your mouth is becoming drier and drier, being swept of its saliva or any liquid at 

that. Throat, yelping for water.  A drop a dribble, please anything, it screams.  

The last steps are right in front of you. You can do it. You tell yourself. Even though the quicksand continues to yank you down; you’re turning the key as fast as your clammy, sweat-drenched hands can go. Click. Done. You bash the door open, swinging it maybe a little too hard so that it whams straight onto the wall and right back at you. Just great. Just great. You very carefully and politely push the door open a second time and sprint like a headless maniac down the stairs.  

 The kitchen. It’s in sight. Your eyes are dragging you along, persuading you, 

hypnotising you. The tap. It’s right there. A delicate bended figure. The source of glorious stupendous, wonderful liquid. Water! Your hands muster up the strength 

to grab a cup and you turn the tap. You turn it as slowly as an hour hand on a clock. You think- why? I need water why not turn it faster? HURRY UP! After a 

mere few seconds of contemplating life's biggest problems, finally the tap is on. A stream of pure, see-through, majestic liquid pours out somehow hypnotically, pulling you forward. Pushing your cup forward, it fills up with water. Wonderful, wonderful water. The moment. The moment everyone’s been waiting for. You 

yank the cup up to your dry, cracking lips, letting it rest for a bit. You’re ready. You tip the cup. A raging river of soothing thirst-quenching water invades the dry, 

crusty desert. It feels wonderful. Absolutely spectacular. It’s like a melodic sea of beautiful instruments pounding in your eardrums. You’re quenched of your 

indescribable chronic thirst. It feels good.  

     

 

 WALT* 

Large wet logs of false success lie at your feet; they are but sweaty dogs of fire, riding the strings and arrows of 

outrageous fortune. You hereby underestimate the power of our interfrastic custard potion, as the almighty vessels of modern western fusion cuisine drown your dessert spoons in oil. “Oh, whither rehearsal!” you perversely yelp, as we stir you down with the cynical hamsters of oblivion. Ride on, glide on, and even slide on, says the paper ghost as he brandishes your repertoire of swanky ponzi schemes with his soy n’ chicken 

scythe- bringing clouds of dust to the hemisphere. You try to protest. Your vocals call out to the numbers that posted you 

here all those seconds ago.  DAMN you, 46! DAMN you, 373! As your bones retreat into the 

cylinders of unnecessary jaw surgery forever.  ⇋ 

A moment of sudden over-inspiration and, as a result of this unexpected mind-flow, utter randomness, so satisfying to read 

and write- is undoubtedly awesome. *above-random image 

  

    

The moment you score a winning goal in hockey   

- Aspen    

 When you feel your hockey stick connect with the ball sending it bouncing. The thrill engulfs you. The vibration climbs it way up your arms your hands quivering. Gripping the stick with an anxious force, your hands slip on the clammy grip.

Rising anxiety darts confusingly in your brain. ‘Will it go in, Will it not?’ Luminous T-shirts rush past, desperately stumbling for goal. Glancing up, the tension swallows your breath like a windy day. Your head is spacey with dizziness and everything slows down as the ball leaves a trail of spitting water in its wake. The uproar and contention pierces you like arrows. You’re pressured by the bellowing from the sideline, heart pounding like a drum. I like to pretend I’m playing for the womens Blacksticks and about to score the winning goal in the Olympics, just centimetres away from triumph. As the goalie dives for the ball, the pad just centimeters away from nicking it and stealing your glory... you hear the satisfying thwack of the ball hitting the backboard. Cheers spew from the sideline, echoing in your ears like thunder. The tuneful screech of the whistle pounds your ears as a rush of teammates pile on top of you in a sweaty, perspired heap. The intense coaches have pressured the Under 13 New Zealand team to win the cup, break out into a thin smile and high five happily. You’ve never felt so content.

 

   

   

Slipping on your freshly dried jersey. -Brooke 

 Warmth seeping into your stone cold skin,

spreading instant relief.

Relaxing your muscles. Sending

you to a world where nothing matters but the soothing cotton, settling itself onto

your skin.

The scent of fresh, cleanly washed fabric tickles your nose as you pull it over your face, laying it over your bare back. The pleasant softness of it all gives you

goosebumps, making you shiver inside the silky cocoon.

- AWESOME!

BEN F #001: Flopping down on the couch after a hard

days work:

Your butt screams, trying to attract your attention. You’ve been

sitting in an uncomfortable office chair the whole day, and your

bent-over back needs a break.

You burst into the house, kick off your shoes, and make a mad dash

to the living room. Your mind races; “What if it’s not there? What if

my brother arrived first?!” But it is there, standing in the living room

like always. Old, dependable couch.

You let out a long sigh of relief, and plant your glutes firmly into the

creases of the cushions. The feather-filled sacks of fluff cradle your

pained posterior in a gentle embrace, and you sink deeper into this

world of comforting bliss. You might read a book, or browse the

endless internet, but at the end of the day, what your bruised and

battered buttocks are craving is the sweet feeling of your

comfortable, cushioned, calming couch.

AWESOME!

When you finally take of your shoes: -Matthew

Your feet scream like convicts trying to get out of jail. You burst through the door ready to push anyone who gets in your way.

You throw your bag off to the side and slowly slip off one of the uncomfortable, tight and painful shoes. The feeling of the air finally on your foot. You huff as your relieved sweaty foot is now finally free of the cell-like shoe. As the second shoe comes free, you feel like you’re finally and completely free. You close your eyelids and feel the cold air on your feet. It feels

Awesome

When You Lick A Lemon -Lara

In that second when hundreds of taste buds collide with pure citrus heaven, a billion things happen at once. The sourness is overwhelming, but soon your mouth settles into acceptance of this sudden change from ham sandwiches to utter bliss.

The glands behind your tongue zing in appreciation, and your stomach waits in hope for that first drop of goodness that warms your whole body inside and out. Both glinting eyes release a burst of gratitude for letting them be free of pent-up emotions that have been brewing for God knows how long. You become immersed in the flurry, drowning in happiness but skimming the surface on a lake of pure paradise. To gain confidence to dive in, you grab another lemon half and squeeze it into your mouth. It uses a pen bursting with imagination to write on an empty page, filling it with wonder that only you can see. The juice of life seeps down your throat, satisfying your craving for yumminess. After a long day at school, this feeling is invigorating. As angels transfer a glorious flavour from the daffodil hanging on a branch to the deepest pit of your soul, your mind goes to a place of peace, where nothing exists but you, the couch below, and an object full of

AWESOME

THE METAL MAWS }-By Ben-{

A sudden twist follows a satisfying click. Pins shifting, gears turning, one down one to go. You pull the item from the contraption, feeding it to the next gaping mouth. You twist the knife further and further; the lock falls, undone. Cold fingers grasp the handle and swing open the door. Damp and shivering, you step inside.

-AWESOME-