citing skitty

Snap-Dragon

2011-05-23T03:35:00.001+10:00

D.H. Lawrence (1885–1930). Amores. 1916

SHE bade me follow to her garden, where
The mellow sunlight stood as in a cup
Between the old grey walls; I did not dare
To raise my face, I did not dare look up,
Lest her bright eyes like sparrows should fly in
My windows of discovery, and shrill “Sin.”

So with a downcast mien and laughing voice
I followed, followed the swing of her white dress
That rocked in a lilt along: I watched the poise
Of her feet as they flew for a space, then paused to press
The grass deep down with the royal burden of her:
And gladly I’d offered my breast to the tread of her.

“I like to see,” she said, and she crouched her down,
She sunk into my sight like a settling bird;
And her bosom couched in the confines of her gown
Like heavy birds at rest there, softly stirred
By her measured breaths: “I like to see,” said she,
“The snap-dragon put out his tongue at me.”

She laughed, she reached her hand out to the flower,
Closing its crimson throat. My own throat in her power
Strangled, my heart swelled up so full
As if it would burst its wine-skin in my throat,
Choke me in my own crimson. I watched her pull
The gorge of the gaping flower, till the blood did float

Over my eyes, and I was blind—
Her large brown hand stretched over
The windows of my mind;
And there in the dark I did discover
Things I was out to find:
My Grail, a brown bowl twined
With swollen veins that met in the wrist,
Under whose brown the amethyst
I longed to taste. I longed to turn
My heart’s red measure in her cup,
I longed to feel my hot blood burn
With the amethyst in her cup.

Then suddenly she looked up,
And I was blind in a tawny-gold day,
Till she took her eyes away.
So she came down from above
And emptied my heart of love.
So I held my heart aloft
To the cuckoo that hung like a dove,
And she settled soft.

It seemed that I and the morning world
Were pressed cup-shape to take this reiver
Bird who was weary to have furled
Her wings in us,
As we were weary to receive her.

This bird, this rich,
Sumptuous central grain,
This mutable witch,
This one refrain,
This laugh in the fight,
This clot of night,
This core of delight.

She spoke, and I closed my eyes
To shut hallucinations out.
I echoed with surprise
Hearing my mere lips shout
The answer they did devise.
Again I saw a brown bird hover
Over the flowers at my feet;
I felt a brown bird hover
Over my heart, and sweet
Its shadow lay on my heart.
I thought I saw on the clover
A brown bee pulling apart
The closed flesh of the clover
And burrowing in its heart.

She moved her hand, and again
I felt the brown bird cover
My heart; and then
The bird came down on my heart,
As on a nest the rover
Cuckoo comes, and shoves over
The brim each careful part
Of love, takes possession, and settles her down,
With her wings and her feathers to drown
The nest in a heat of love.

She turned her flushed face to me for the glint
Of a moment. “See,” she laughed, “if you also
Can make them yawn.” I put my hand to the dint
In the flower’s throat, and the flower gaped wide with woe.
She watched, she went of a sudden intensely still,
She watched my hand, to see what I would fulfil.

I pressed the wretched, throttled flower between
My fingers, till its head lay back, its fangs
Poised at her. Like a weapon my hand was white and keen,
And I held the choked flower-serpent in its pangs
Of mordant anguish, till she ceased to laugh,
Until her pride’s flag, smitten, cleaved down to the staff.

She hid her face, she murmured between her lips
The low word “Don’t.” I let the flower fall,
But held my hand afloat towards the slips
Of blossom she fingered, and my fingers all
Put forth to her: she did not move, nor I,
For my hand like a snake watched hers, that could not fly.

Then I laughed in the dark of my heart, I did exult
Like a sudden chuckling of music. I bade her eyes
Meet mine, I opened her helpless eyes to consult
Their fear, their shame, their joy that underlies
Defeat in such a battle. In the dark of her eyes
My heart was fierce to make her laughter rise.

Till her dark deeps shook with convulsive thrills, and the dark
Of her spirit wavered like water thrilled with light;
And my heart leaped up in longing to plunge its stark
Fervour within the pool of her twilight,
Within her spacious soul, to grope in delight.

And I do not care, though the large hands of revenge
Shall get my throat at last, shall get it soon,
If the joy that they are searching to avenge
Have risen red on my night as a harvest moon,
Which even death can only put out for me;
And death, I know, is better than not-to-be.

dumb q & a from facebook

2010-02-11T17:07:00.005+11:00

I think this is only the second time I've ever filled out one of these "tag other people!" thingies doing the rounds of facebook. I really need less time on my hands.....

47 Questions & Answers

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
My middle name is one of those "run in the family" things (my mum has it, my Nan has is, and it was my great-grandmother's first name. That looks more confusing in type than it is).

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
To be honest I cried myself to sleep a few nights ago, having a big stupid sad about where my life is... Don't worry, I got over it! Life is okay, and will get even better.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Yes, when it’s the nice stuff. The scribbled get-it-down-fast isn’t so pretty, and my shorthand looks like mutant chicken scratchings.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam....no, really not. I just like saying it. What is a lunch meat, anyway?

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
nope

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Yep. I bring chocolate to the table. And hey, I’d know what I liked.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Sarcasm? Me? No, never. Evvver.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
yep

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
erm...I'm scared of my eyeballs sploinking out at the bottom :(
I'd love to skydive though, so go figure.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Hot porridge on a cold day...pinch of cinnamon...mmmm

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
...no. Shut up, mum.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
I have to pick just one? Ummm... any citrus sorbet. Better *with* chocolate, course.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
Their hands, and if they laugh easily.

15. RED OR PINK?
ew. red? I guess. At least it's not pink. Purple please. Or green.

16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
Hating what I look like. Must get over self. Getting there.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
My little sister.

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST?
Yes! Right now! ...erm, really not particularly?

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
black pants......bare feet, who wears shoes at home?

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
a lawnmower outside somewhere and the "lush" mix on soma.fm

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
…how is this different from the colour question, hmmmm?
I would be one of those ace silvery metallic ones that came out all sparkly, yeah! Bronze!

23. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Good coffee. The bush after rain. Lemon peel. Struck matches.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
….a friggin’ telemarketer who I hung up on THREE TIMES before he got the message. Rude!

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Hockey! …which is more like only sport I watch. Except to laugh at curling.

27. HAIR COLOR?
Auburn turned dark by living in a cave.

28. EYE COLOR?
I’m told it’s “hazel”…brown works for me.

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
Nope. I always wanted to wear glasses tho. Went and got tested just in case. 20/20 vision, boooo.

30. FAVORITE FOOD?
Vietnamese pho (mmm noodles). Anything Japanese (well, almost). Chocolate (duh). Nutella (evil). Yellow apples.

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Happy endings (preferably with a decent story first). Scary movies either put me to sleep or give me bad dreams, these days.

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
You and Me and Everyone We Know (odd little American indie film)

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
…black. It has pretty lace on it though? I’m not completely boring, honest…

34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Winter winter winter let it snoooooooow.

35. HUGS OR KISSES?
Kisses. No, wait, hugs. Wait, why do we have to decide?

37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND TO?
….YOU.

38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
…YOU! …oh ok sorry, I was wrong, my bad.

39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
A sci-fi trilogy called Behemoth by Peter Watts which is much better than I expected.

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
Touch pad. Laptop. Um…fingerprints?

41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
Spicks and Specks!!

42. FAVORITE SOUND(S)?
My cat purring (well, any cat purring). Rain on the roof. An orchestra tuning up.

43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Beatles.

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
I guess…the UK? Is that the furthest around? Must be.

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
I can write good like. Working on making my design eye better. Oh, and I can usually make people laugh :)

46 WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Gosford

47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
…YOURS! (really!)

bleh

2010-01-16T03:18:00.001+11:00

Hum. Today is one of those days where you try and focus intently on, well, anything really, just to stop yourself thinking about checking out.

everything

2009-10-28T00:25:00.000+11:00

Alanis is stuck in my head today:

I can be a nightmare of the grandest kind
I can withhold like it’s going out of style
I have the bravest heart that you’ve ever seen
And you’ve never met anyone who's as positive as I am, sometimes

You see everything, you see every part
You see all my light and you love my dark
You dig everything of which I'm ashamed
There's not anything to which you can’t relate
And you’re still here

I blame everyone else, not my own partaking
My passive-aggressiveness can be devastating
I'm the most gorgeous woman that you’ve ever known
And you’ve never met anyone who's as everything as I am, sometimes

What I resist, persists, and speaks louder than I know
What I resist, you love, no matter how low or high I go

You see everything, you see every part
You see all my light and you love my dark
You dig everything of which I'm ashamed
There's not anything to which you can’t relate
And you’re still here

And you're still here...

yes, let's

2009-06-10T04:38:00.001+10:00

let's go for a drink
let's run away together
let's do coffee
let's have lunch
let's fuck on the kitchen table
let's fly a kite
let's go people watching
let's watch old movies
let's kiss on the couch
let's run in the rain
let's dress up
let's ignore the phone
let's laugh until our stomachs ache
let's shoot zombies
let's climb a mountain
let's have sex with no guiltstrings
let's snooze in the sun
let's make dinner together
let's listen to symphonies
let's go out on the town
let's dance til dawn
let's tickle the cat
let's go for a long walk
let's collect tiny shells
let's make ice cubes
let's write to each other
let's stay in bed all day
let's make coffee
let's argue about books
let's sing badly
let's get kinky
let's play hide and seek
let's drive for hours
let's let the tears come
let's light the fire
let's housekeep in the nude
let's stay up late
let's draw on the walls
let's sit quietly together
let's order in
let's have a pillowfight
let's watch the sunrise
let's fall asleep next to each other

yes. let's.

scrawl

2009-04-20T02:31:00.003+10:00

we all sound so much more confident in type
screening over emotion
on the page
papering over past hurts
with pretty verbs and colloquial kitsch...
wallpaper words

Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie
Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!

ars domestica

2009-02-06T06:17:00.003+11:00

oh - maybe i understand.
maybe you've got one marriage so you don't want all the boring bits. again. just the bits which thrill.
maybe i'm the same.
addicted to intensity.
terrified of mediocrity and the mundane.

Where the heart is?

2009-01-05T04:20:00.002+11:00

i just want to go home.
but i don't really know where home is anymore.

yes, but, the problem is

2008-11-21T05:42:00.004+11:00

the problem is, i don't hate him.
the problem is, he ticks a bunch of boxes
the problem is, on paper it looks great
the problem is he went to the right schools
the problem is, he looks after me when i ask him not to
the problem is, he knows what the done thing is
the problem is, he knows who ross edwards, or carl vine is
the problem is he will be late, but he will be there
the problem is he can't smalltalk, but will tuxedo up for me
the problem is, he likes cassis, and eiswein
the problem is, he recites iron chef
the problem is, he adores me, just badly
the problem is he loathes bad design
the problem is, he's a snob, like me
the problem is he will rescue me, even when i fight it
the problem is he always has

the problem is, i grew to love him
the real problem is, i don't love him enough.

show me yours and i'll

2008-11-17T06:45:00.005+11:00

when you're in love...
there's this... sweet, vulnerable bit, that is the bit of you i most want to see. underneath the masks real and imagined and layers of personality... heartbreakingly tender and almost too much to bear. and too much to bare, as well... it's the bit you're terrified of showing. the deepest you, stripped of every trapping. and you hold it cupped in your heart, flinchingly showing glimpses if you dare, because you know the what if? would shatter you apart. petrified when it's seen without you realising. but melting and going weak at the knees at the same time, because the oh! what if! tastes as sweet as life itself. and that's worth everything, isn't it? show me what feels like a soul.

...you, me. same thing.

walls

2008-11-16T12:25:00.002+11:00

Sleep takes so long to come, and then I dream. Last night I dreamt I was tied to a cold stone wall, no, nothing delightful about it, sobbing until I retched and could barely breathe. I woke up with marks from my nails in my palms. Wet cheeked, and my mouth tasting of bile.

open

2008-11-05T06:54:00.001+11:00

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
(e. e. cummings)

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

this one. that one. maybe.

2008-10-15T00:13:00.001+11:00

ok, so, making choices = good, but which one do you choose when all of them feel wrong? why can't i see?

thanks!

2008-10-06T22:34:00.000+11:00

oh. when you ignore your friends and go all silent on them for weeks, turns out they worry. oops. ta.

ow

2008-08-19T17:06:00.002+10:00

i got home early (from a shoot) today. and sat down, and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried.

i'm not sure i can do this. smile and lie for the next six weeks.it hurts.

centred...?

2008-08-11T17:07:00.004+10:00

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

I feel like I'm losing my focus, my centre. Scattering, coming adrift. Hardly touching or connecting to anything. Losing sight of what grounds me, a centre...I'm not sure where to turn to find it again.

reading material

2008-08-01T01:33:00.000+10:00

Adult Children of alcoholics:
guess at what normal is.
have difficulty in following a project through from beginning to end.
lie when it would be just as easy to tell the truth.
judge themselves without mercy.
have difficulty having fun.
take themselves very seriously.
have difficulty with intimate relationships.
overreact to changes over which they have no control.
feel that they are different from other people.
are either super responsible or super irresponsible.
are extremely loyal, even in the face of evidence that loyalty is undeserved.

and/or characteristics:
Difficulty with identity issues related to seeking constantly the affirmation and approval of others.
Frightened by personal criticism.
Overdeveloped sense of responsibility. Concerned about the needs of others to the degree of neglecting your own wants and needs (a protective behaviour for avoiding a good look at yourself and taking responsibility to identify and resolve your own personal difficulties.)
Feelings of guilt associated with standing up for your rights. It is easier to give into the demands of others.
An addiction to excitement. Feeling a need to be on the edge, and risk-taking behaviours.
A tendency to confuse feelings of love and pity.
Avoidance of feelings related to traumatic childhood experiences. Unable to feel or express feelings because it is frightening and/or painful and overwhelming. Denial of feelings.
Low self-esteem. A tendency to judge yourself harshly and be perfectionistic and self-critical.
Strong dependency needs and terrified of abandonment. Will do almost anything to hold onto a relationship in order to avoid the fear and pain of abandonment.
Dysfunctional relationships, denial, fearful, avoidance of feelings, poor coping, poor problem solving, afraid that others will find out what you are really like, etc.
A chameleon. A tendency to be what others want you to be instead of being yourself. A lack of honesty with yourself and others.

just some things

2008-07-24T16:00:00.003+10:00

i bite the skin off my lips when i’m concentrating or stressed (ditto the quicks on the sides of my nails, until they bleed and i don’t notice, ugh). sometimes i think i do it ‘cos the sting keeps me awake, or alert or something.
i hold pencils between my teeth and forget they’re there until someone points them out.
i poke pens into my hair and forget they’re there until someone points them out.
i bend paper clips while on the phone and usually end up chewing on them idly (jeez, orally fixated much?)
i watch people’s hands when they speak.
i feel naked if i leave the house without earrings in (wtf)
i love the smell of snow.
i crack my knuckles.
i love the click-clonk sound of walking across a room in high heels. (i am getting more and more addicted to higher and higher heels.....hmm).
i drink too much coffee and forget to eat most of the time.
i sleep curled on my side with one arm under my head.
i am a poetry nerd; i still get a kick out of knowing something's in trochaic tetrameter. (oi vey). i like onomatopoeia, too, and words that rattle on the tongue.
oh, i like semi-colons, too, speaking of word nerdery.
i love flying (in a plane...duh). especially taking off. ooh, and turbulence. i looooove turbulence, whee!
i run my fingers along walls and railings and fences when i walk somewhere. i pick leaves off street trees and crush them to see how they smell, too.
i was terrified of skeletons when i was little. (one specific "skellington" behind my door, actually. i think it was probably so that i could con my folks into leaving the door open so’s i could listen to their conversations….brat)
i have annoying hyper-flexible muscles that stretch too far.
i doodle spirals when i'm on the phone, or listening to someone. if i'm at home and don’t have any paper i’ll usually end up with an elaborate biro-tattoo on my leg.
i like drawing on skin :)
i like stripes. stars, too, just not together.
i add things up on my fingers when i don't think not to.
i have a stationery fetish (actually, lots of journos i know do); i love the smell of something newly printed.
i fold little cranes if i find a square piece of paper.
one of my my best friends died when we were both 20. i still reach for the phone to call him. often.

2008-07-15T00:05:00.001+10:00

you know that secret little bit that you don’t tell everyone 'cos they'd think you're a braggart, where you look in the mirror and think yeah, that's ok?
i remember...
a friend (remember george?) who used to ponce about in front of the mirror... "see, if I put a bit of meat on, and squish these (hoiks boobs) up like this, i reckon i look a bit of alright!"
you wandered around naked in my flat, marvelling at how unselfconscious you felt when you were with me.
you danced excitedly in your new dress, hugging its folds around your curves.
you giggled and showed off new underwear while we were stopped at the lights.
you stood on my balcony and sang silly ditties to me in your underwear.
you agreed with me when i said you were pretty.
when i dig underneath, i ... don’t have it. that bit. oh, i have it about work things; i'm great at my job. i'm a excellent writer (if i pull my finger out), i'm an even better COS. i can juggle stuff and deal with people. i can even say i'm good at all that with some pride, without cringing too much. there's not even a smidge of me that can do the same about how i look. just ugh, all the time. i can get by if i don’t look in mirrors. in fact...there’s not really very much of me as a person that i happily look at and think yep, that’s me, and that’s a bit of alright. i am sure there used be some.
is not very healthy. needs to be changed.

eh?

2008-07-14T07:55:00.002+10:00

well, that was unexpected, and mildly frightening.
still, the world frightens you, so ... so what, eh? once more into the breach?
i think so :)

sometimes

2008-07-14T02:59:00.000+10:00

i wish, i wish, i wish, sometimes, that i just did not love you so much.

what is this thing?

2008-07-03T01:02:00.002+10:00

...that sits on my chest and makes it hard to breathe?
...that clenches my throat and pricks my eyes with tears?
...that makes me bite my lips; press nails into my hands; stifle a cry; shake my shuddering spine.

strange. when i write that down on the page, how close it looks to joy.

damn

2008-06-22T04:06:00.002+10:00

damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn
damnit all

2008-06-18T23:20:00.002+10:00

Here's what my whore escape (horroscope, too) said today. Unusually appropriate. And quite good advice. *boots self back into optimism* there. better :)
How did you end up where you are now? What choice did you make? What contract did you sign? Now, where's your get-out clause? What's the Plan B? How come, if life is supposed to be all about the exercise of free will, that you seem to face so many closed doors, done deals and irrevocable rules? A loophole in one particular law is about to reveal itself. You, though, are so caught up in what's not possible, that you may not be of a mind to recognise your opportunity when it arises. Be optimistic.

love&fear

2008-06-13T14:38:00.002+10:00

I bought a Leunig book the other day. It fell open at this.
There are only two feelings, love and fear
There are only two languages, love and fear
There are only two activities, love and fear
There are only two motives, two procedures, two frameworks, two results
Love and fear
Love and fear

...it's good advice. Which motivates you?

blank

2008-06-08T20:11:00.001+10:00

things have been so dark lately that i can't even bring myself to write.
and the start of the month came and went.

go west...

2008-04-30T23:56:00.002+10:00

well, actually more technically north. next year is the year of the big trip. so say i, as of...oh, the other day. just a decision. is good to have a dream. seeing as rosalind will more than likely be going back to the motherland, among other things...it will be a good time. which means i can start planning. and thinking and ... fantasy-list making :) what to do, best case scenarios; where shall i go? who will i find? maybe even... me? :)

dramatic erratic

2008-04-21T15:50:00.002+10:00

Borderline personality disorder, or BPD. Some or all of the following:
1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment.
2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterised by alternating between extremes of idealisation and devaluation.
3. Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.
4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (eg promiscuous sex, eating disorders, binge eating, substance abuse).
5. Recurrent suicidal behaviour, gestures, threats, or self-mutilating behaviour such as cutting, interfering with the healing of scars, or picking at oneself.
6. Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (eg intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days).
7. Chronic feelings of emptiness, worthlessness.
8. Inappropriate anger or difficulty controlling anger (eg displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights).
9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

again

2008-04-20T17:51:00.001+10:00

if you miss the boat, or feel like you have, what should you do?
try and catch the same boat anyway?
or look for a new ride?

20/20

2008-04-14T05:17:00.000+10:00

i should have left years ago. before i was so frightened of being alone.

too close for comfort

2008-04-11T01:10:00.001+10:00

does familiarity breed contempt? i always used to think so. now i'm not so sure.
:)

hush

2008-03-21T02:33:00.000+11:00

i...
have all these things to say
but i stay dumb
i...
have all these thoughts to heal
but they won't come
i...
have all these things to feel
but i choose numb

nothing happens unless someone pries me open. what a copout.

if i just...
stopped fighting
stopped locking doors
stopped hardening
stopped frightening.
if i just...
reach out, and touch a fingertip to yours
it might come loose.

do i dare, disturb the universe? :)

someone your own age

2008-03-19T12:34:00.003+11:00

dammit, i really hate it when people find out my age. it's a friggin' relationship ruiner. if i was a different sort of person i'd lie. but i can’t.
first they go... "oh! that's…oh! what, really?? no? really?" for ages - took me ten minutes to convince someone the other day, "oh! but you couldn't possibly have done all the things you've done!"...umm, ok...would you like me to make up a different number?
then they spend the rest of the interaction being surprised and amazed and bringing it up. or depending on the person, you can feel them drawing back their feelers like a frightened snail. and i feel like a fraud, as though i've been pulling the wool over their eyes all this time when we've been having this amazing connection, cause how could i possibly? being such a babe? sigh. not my fault i connected.
and then i get paranoid about being patronized, even if they do it just the tiniest bit. ok, so that’s an achilles heel of mine, but i can’t help it. it makes me so mad. workwise it shits me, too - sure, age might equal wisdom, but there's no correlation that means i can't actually do the job. proof of that is in, er, being able to do the damn job, surely.
oof. so most of the people i actually enjoy talking to, being with, or who i have to deal with on a work day are older than me. so?? i tend not to even ask; why does it matter? i always feel a bit like saying, how about you swap 'young' for 'women' or maybe even 'black'? then you might see how i feel. "oh! really? you achieved all that stuff? but you're a woman!! gosh!"
sigh.

That Call

2008-03-16T01:39:00.004+11:00

i'm terrified that one day i'm going to get That Call. it keeps me from sleeping, sits in my guts like dead ice and makes my stomach roil. it keeps getting closer and more likely; these days i tense when the phone rings. sometimes when i do sleep, i dream about it coming, hearing the words and staring in shock, or crumbling into a ball. not weeping, though; that's never inside the dreams. i save that for sitting on my steps and staring at the stars and feeling frustrated, and a very long way away ... and like i can't do anything. but i can't not try. you're damned either way.
after those dreams i wake up tearful, but it's not for That Call, it's for the guilt; hating my subconscious for creating, for wishing it would happen. how could i possibly?? that's evil! because...that's movement. of some kind. change. just anything to break the cycle. i'd stop being frightened, at least. something. anything.
but gods, that's a horrible thing to wish. like i need another reason to get all self-hatey on myself. ugh.
there must be something i can do. there will be. it will come to me. i hope it comes before the call.

bad idea

2008-03-03T10:51:00.002+11:00

ever get that feeling you're going to go right ahead and do that thing anyhow, every though it's really, actually, a pretty bad idea? yep. that'd be me. gut feeling? what gut feeling? i can deny anything, i've had years of practice :)

stories

2008-02-24T02:25:00.002+11:00

it's funny how ... the stories that you tell are the ones from ages ago. the ones i tell are, anyway. not sure if things seem better through the handy rose the-past lens. or if there's nothing i've done in the last few years that seems interesting. or that i'm proud of. or that i want to admit into the... um, life canon of me. the dinner-party-story version you tell to other people.
if i had to tell the stories of the last 12 months, what would they be? what would i admit to? what would i be proud of? would there be anything?
maybe things need to sit in my head and percolate for a while before i know what they mean, and can articulate them? in the overall lifeline. but that's s sort of rewriting history, and rewriting the way i want me to be.

it doesn't matter.

2008-02-15T02:00:00.002+11:00

don't ever say it doesn't matter. i remember my mother crying one morning. and telling me that. don't ever say it doesn't matter. because it does matter, it really does.
but it's such a salve. how on earth can we possibly face the next day? how at all? by it doesn't matter. move on, brush over, look, over there, shiny. that's easier to face than impossible change, or total gloom. up and at 'em, a new day's dawning. time to pretend it doesn't matter.
but it does.

and sometimes, people don't suck.

2008-01-28T02:15:00.000+11:00

today was a good day.
it is a good thing to surround yourself with people you love.
it is a good thing to:
reach out;
and ask what you'd like to be asked;
and laugh;
and listen;
and remind them that you love them.
today was a good day.

sigh

2008-01-15T03:12:00.000+11:00

oh, i miss girls!

nada?

2008-01-06T22:46:00.000+11:00

coming home felt...nothing.
not happy, not sad. not angry. not ecstatic.
just...nothing.
like going back into suspended animation again.
weird.

trap'd

2008-01-02T12:29:00.000+11:00

i used to work in radio
now i can barely stutter a sentence

i used to play for a living
now i can hardly scratch out a scale

i used to sing all the time -- god! remember? we used to sing at parties, for events, people would ask us to sing, to arrange things. we sang a parody in front of a thousand people.
and laughed.
now i can't even raise my voice at home. alone. in my own house. anywhere. i just choke.

why????

so i sang myself to sleep. poor, rusty chords :)

Lede

2007-12-21T00:30:00.000+11:00

King of Cups, when reversed: The dark essence of water behaving as air, such as rain clouds in a gray sky: A pillar of maturity and patience, hiding a deep insecurity and an indecisive nature. One who secretly lusts for power, but lacks the courage, intellect, or work ethic necessary to take it. A charming seducer who appears innocent and understanding, but is in fact selfish and unfaithful.

forward, please

2007-11-24T03:29:00.001+11:00

This is depressing me, wearing me down and sucking out my energy.
So, I've had a bunch of aspie friends, relatives, lovers even. Some of them before people talked about it at all much (we just realised they ticked lots of boxes afterwards). It never really bothered me - or, well that's a total understatement, I never even thought about it. Au contraire, I seem to get on really well with aspie types. Autistic kids, too, back in the days when I used to do that. Actually, I grew up being able to talk to just about anyone, in a one-on-one situation when it was just them - the shyer, more reclusive or "weirder" the better, no matter what flavour. Maybe that's why I'm good at interviewing now. Or I always had the aptitude. Something. It's from my Dad, a bit. Maybe. I remember someone (ah! that particular someone :) *sigh!*) saying, "How do you do that? Talk to people like that - you just sort of click into where they're at?". I don't know the how. I think it probably stems from a genuine interest in people -- everyone, everyone, everyone has an amazing story.
What's the problem now? Now...I just, really, wish I knew what to expect. Because I've been waiting for things to get better for oh, such a very long time. And there's a complicated layering of denial in there somewhere, too, that pretends we're ok.
On the other hand, does it matter? Not everything is excusable because of a syndrome, right?
Wait, no, that's not it. It's not about whether I keep banging my head on the wall, it's the angle I bonk it on (heh). I don't care about a having a piece of paper. But maybe I'm trying to fix things in the wrong way -- in many wrong ways, totally alien ways that will just get things nowhere. Nothing's changed so far, so that would seem to fit the overall diagnosis. So, now what? What do I need to move forward? How do I try? Because being stuck in the same old place isn't going to cut it for terribly much longer.

things my mother taught me

2007-10-29T11:38:00.000+11:00

- that i am better than everyone (for some obscure, never-quite-explained reason)
- that i could be so much better if i actually tried and put some effort in

so now, i'm a snob who can't can't connect to anyone with chronically low self esteem. and i try and do everything myself, 'cause the perfectionist is never happy with the way anyone else does it. and then i'm always hopelessly disappointed in my own efforts.
round we go, and round we go, and round we go again.

“Think of a rock polisher, one of those drums, goes round and round, rolls twenty four/seven, full of water and rocks and gravel. Grinding it all up. Round and round. Polishing those ugly rocks into gemstones. That's the earth. Why it goes around. We're the rocks. And what happens to us – the drama and pain and joy and war and sickness and victory and abuse – why, that's just the water and sand to erode us. Grind us down. To polish us up, nice and bright.” – Chuck Palahniuk.

anima

2007-10-14T01:18:00.000+11:00

your house is so suffused with love
that visiting's good for the soul

gah

2007-10-03T22:32:00.000+10:00

dammit! i try really, really, really hard for it not to matter, and to be positive, and...everything. and i'm STILL petrified of needing anyone at all, ever. for anything. or asking. why??? it stops me being me?? gah.

touch

2007-08-23T20:09:00.000+10:00

sometimes it feels like i can just reach out and hold your heart in the palm of my hand.
and sometimes it feels like running my fingers through lemonade…fizzy and sweet and tingly.
and sometimes it feels like trying to hold on to broken pieces of china as they crack and break and slip out of my hands.

...meh?

2007-08-19T23:45:00.000+10:00

I'm having trouble making myself care about anything today. It's weird. Most of my emails are unopened. The paper is unread; online news ditto, and most of my feeds also. The Masters work I was supposed to finish is barely touched. I couldn't read more than a few pages of any of the books I'm reading. Nothing on TV held my gaze, although, well, that's hardly new. And I ignored the phone. It's all kinda meh. Why meh? I'm kinda tired, but not hugely. I hurt an old back injury yesterday, but not massively...there's no good reason to be so flat and blah at the world. Did someone put prozac in my tea?

.......

and then

2007-08-14T02:12:00.000+10:00

except then you get there, and you think...okaaayyy...now what?

next?

neruda

2007-08-13T02:53:00.000+10:00

When I die, I want your hands on my eyes:

I want the light and the wheat of your beloved hands

to pass their freshness over me once more:

I want to feel the softness that changed my destiny.

I want you to live while I wait for you, asleep.

I want your ears still to hear the wind, I want you

to sniff the sea's aroma that we loved together,

to continue to walk on the sand we walk on.

I want what I love to continue to live,

and you whom I love and sang above everything else

to continue to flourish, full-flowered:

so that you can reach everything my love directs you to,

so that my shadow can travel along in your hair,

so that everything can learn the reason for my song.

running out

2007-08-12T01:11:00.000+10:00

i seem to be pouring myself into everybody else right now. it makes any time alone - really alone, doing something for me - seem kinda precious.

Can't sleep.

2007-07-31T01:13:00.000+10:00

Sometimes I feel like my heart will crack, and all the me will run out. And then there will be nothing left.

reach

2007-07-13T01:21:00.000+10:00

...lady lights a cigarette, puffs away, no regrets
takes a look around, no regrets no regrets
stretches out like branches of a poplar tree
says "I am free", sings so soft as if she'll break...

grope

2007-07-09T03:30:00.000+10:00

there's a pattern of silence i get into, and i'm doing it again.
when even i can't make myself talk.
but there are silent shouts and screams just under my breath ... sitting at the back of my throat. coiled quiet against the terms of endearment and the swallowed tears.
articulate, prithee, speak? nothing. i just open and shut like a gaping ... ha, fish out of water.
grope, gasp, grope. shhhh.

gehaftet

2007-06-25T23:50:00.000+10:00

.....but i am so much more!!

Houston

2007-06-22T18:43:00.001+10:00

Boss: "We have a big problem, now."
Me: Oh? (Thinks: Oh, crap, what didn't I do now??)
Boss: "Yes. The thing is, this issue you've done is going to be so good, you'll have to live up to it somehow in the next issue."
Me: ...

...Okay...There's the arse-about compliment for the day, then. Um...woo!

pavane pour une infante defunte

2007-06-04T15:53:00.000+10:00

sad, tragic even, things keep happening to people that i love. cancer. death of a husband. car crash. death of a parent. miscarriage. death of a child.
such important parts of their existence. of their identity. we structure our lives around the tender tendon connections and then when they’re torn they leave an aching, open, hanging void.
and...i can’t help, or even begin to salve. it feels so helpless! part of me wants to be the good-in-a-crisis type (like frideswide) and run around making casseroles and phoning people. sending flowers and making lists. the other part...thinks responding in any other way rather than in person, with hugs, just seems cheap.
think. what did you want people to say to you? what did they say, that helped?
...nothing helped. i just wanted someone to hold me and rock me while i cried and cried until i until i couldn’t cry anymore.

light

2007-05-29T02:36:00.001+10:00

oh, yes, that's right. that was the really good reason not to fall again. because the light it casts throws everything into sharp relief, and suddenly you can see all the gaps and holes. and aching voids. are they always there? just patched over with little cobwebs of denial? glossed and daubed with a carefully balanced apathy that seems real enough to dance on most of the time. because underneath is far too real.
i wonder...if you could live in the deep of the underneath all the time. and not got mad? probably not. it would be too intoxicating. or maybe there isn't a division, really. 'praps it’s all the same, just different angles. different light. falling at different times of the day...or night. ha, that reminds me of
O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?

awake

2007-05-29T01:53:00.000+10:00

sometimes
when i stay up (like this)
(for days)
or, at least, a night and a day and a night and a day
i wonder whether you even realise that i'm not sleeping next to you.

prank call.

2007-05-25T18:13:00.000+10:00

hey, you.
gutless wonder
why not
have the guts to say
i know what it is you want, but i can't give it to you.
or
there is something i need to say, but i can't find it.
or even
i can see where it is you ache, but i can't even deal with my own pain, let alone someone else's.
and
why not
have the guts to not be afraid of people loving you. especially loving you in different ways.there are lots, you know. they don't all require you to give away part of your soul.
or not.
stay up there and away, it's easier anyway.
so, are you ever going to actually engage? yeah, me neither. it's way easier just to float along the surface of the plebs below and graze when you need to. they'll never know, right?
isn't it such a damn drag when everyone else is so inferior?
stay disengaged, bubble, disconnected. hangup.
hangups! oh, yes. yes, people are so transparent, aren't they? you can put your fingers right through in some places.

argument

2007-05-25T10:00:00.000+10:00

i shouldn’t compare
i shouldn’t set you up to fail
i shouldn’t create tests in my mind
thinking you should say ‘this’ when i say ‘that’
and crumbling when i don’t get what i ask for

i shouldn't hope that one day you will just love me, and say just the right thing
should i?

my bright companion

2007-05-22T01:25:00.000+10:00

ONLY in my deep heart I love you, sweetest heart.
Many another vesture hath the soul, I pray
Call me not forth from this. If from the light I part
Only with clay I cling unto the clay.

And ah! my bright companion, you and I must go
Our ways, unfolding lonely glories, not out own,
Nor from each other gathered, but an inward glow
Breathed by the Lone One on the seeker lone.

If for the heart’s own sake we break the heart, we may
When the last ruby drop dissolves in diamond light
Meet in a deeper vesture in another day.
Until that dawn, dear heart, good-night, good-night.

fly away home

2007-05-21T05:19:00.000+10:00

sometimes i think it would be nice to have people when they are flying high and at their peak.

so often i come to people when they in the dark, or in a rut, or have lost their way somehow. and we work through where they’re at, or try to, and i am happy to delve if it helps, it makes me explore myself too. all of which is good. but sometimes i wonder if it would be nice to *also* have the happy flying yay and smiling times…. rather than just sending healed hawks out to zoom around with the others and watching like some stupid big-sister figure from the window. why can’t i go out and play too? well? what stops you?

i'm sure i don’t go looking with that goal in my head…to heal and hand over. i think. nor do i go looking for the lost and the lonely. well, i don’t think i do. i used to wonder if i somehow searched out the saddened because i needed to see problems that i could fix, hearts that could be heartened. well, i can’t fix them. like my own fixings, all that has to come from inside. i suppose i can lend my mining gear :)

but still. i wonder what it is that i project that says, over here! and then, game over, insert coin. if i could find it, and pinch it off at the source, i'd probably make people a whole lot less uncomfortable.

...that thinking makes it so

2007-05-18T18:26:00.000+10:00

what do you expect of people?
what do you expect when you talk to someone?
enter a deal? a conversation? a contract?
share a joke?
how do your expectations alter what you get out of the interaction?
how do they shape how you feel about it afterwards? during?
if you reach out, do you expect to be responded to?
will you reach out anyway, if you get no response?
for how long?

:)

2007-05-16T23:34:00.000+10:00

talking to you
makes me feel like i can change the world :)

live, love, laugh

2007-05-09T04:47:00.001+10:00

"The best art and writing is almost like an assignment; it is so vibrant that you feel compelled to make something in response. Suddenly it is clear what you have to do. For a brief moment it seems wonderfully easy to live and love and create breathtaking things....in a sense, these are assignments -- in the same way that the ocean gives the assignment of breathing deeply, and kissing instructs us to stop thinking."

I like this project. Simple things. >> learning to love you more

i will find the strength somewhere.

2007-05-08T17:46:00.000+10:00

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centred;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, People may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you've got anyway.

betrayed

2007-05-07T14:49:00.000+10:00

and you can tell you've been hiding from your pain
by the way that you say your name

i really need to shake off this thing, this feeling of betrayal. it's just...energy sucking.

not paving

2007-05-07T04:20:00.000+10:00

apparently tis the season to resurface. a whole bunch of people popped out of the woodwork recently. some friends, some, more than friends. some not very friendly. people i sort of thought i wouldn't see again. well....that's not completely true. but it was unexpected anyway.
i'm wondering whether i reached out and opened up and made that happen. or if it was just...serendipity. or something.

and...i'm not all that sure how to move. how do you move forward, after moving on, while looking back?
maybe you just don't look back at all. just forge ahead and see what's there in the here and the now.

tightrope walk

2007-05-07T03:59:00.000+10:00

soo.....i either get lost in my own nothing or drown in someone else's everything.
how do you balance, again?

hit it off

2007-04-30T17:37:00.000+10:00

v.i,1: To get along well together; to be compatible; to work well together; of people in interactive situations.
yesssssss
this is going to work
and
it makes me feel alive!

"You! You’re a real journo, you are."

connect for

2007-04-30T13:07:00.000+10:00

everything
everything
everything
everything
everything
comes down to connection
making a connection, feeling it.
warming. deepening. broadening. making meaning.
tying it, them, they, to your heartstrings.
breaking it. leaving it
them,
they,
we,
dangling in the nothing.
letting the edge go. after. away.
and pretending you can still find yourself.

because?

2007-04-11T22:33:00.000+10:00

why
am
i
so
god-damned
nice
to
people?

en masse

2007-03-27T17:06:00.000+10:00

this faze
this euphoria
this crazed girl
dancing along a string

this haze
this utopia
this hurly-burl
such a pretty thing

this maze
this dystopia
this foul unfurl
losing everything

these days
these collosia
to hide and curl
or stand and sing

vendettas

2007-03-20T17:40:00.000+11:00

?! that was weird.
and now....help, what have i done?

for walking

2007-03-19T16:55:00.000+11:00

i wear boots!
and they make me feel tall
so i can stride down the street
and not feel so very small

leave

2007-03-19T13:22:00.001+11:00

oh! this breaks my heart, because
i love what i do

i've discovered

2007-03-14T19:22:00.000+11:00

....that when i get really excited, or worried, or i want something lots and lots and lots, my vision gets slightly blurry. not enough to make me blind, just.....unfocused. tres weird. ironic too...cause those sorts of things are usually very um, focussing.

trickle

2007-03-11T15:27:00.000+11:00

let me
crouch in the cooling water
while the light drips
over the windowsill, tripping
the shades of fantastic
between tasting tin and the ecstasy of inside apart.

wild swans

2007-03-10T19:23:00.000+11:00

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine and fifty swans.

The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.

Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold,
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?

recoil

2007-03-09T01:00:00.000+11:00

recoil
v.
To jerk backward, as a gun upon firing: rebound. To draw away involuntarily, usually out of fear or disgust: blench, cringe, flinch, quail, shrink, shy, start, wince.
n.
An act of drawing back in an involuntary or instinctive fashion, in alarm or horror:cringe, flinch, shrink, wince.
Also n.
The backward action of a firearm upon firing.

In most small arms, the force of the recoil is absorbed by the body of the shooter.

shiny ghost

2007-03-06T17:54:00.000+11:00

i wear my grandmother's wedding ring
if i forget to i
can still feel the
ghost of it
curling round my finger
i remember...her hands, so well.
hands, hair and smile.
some days it seems to shine more brightly than others.

jumping jacks

2007-03-06T16:10:00.001+11:00

...what folly is this toasting an independent press? We are the tools and vassals of rich men behind the scenes. We are the jumping jacks, they pull the strings and we dance. Our talents, our possibilities and our lives are all the property of other men.

chord

2007-03-02T17:15:00.000+11:00

there's a girl playing piano in the theatre behind my office today.
she's good.
oh, sometimes i miss playing so much that it aches.

fiend

2007-03-01T12:31:00.000+11:00

This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet; he begins at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth.

wake

2007-02-26T17:51:00.000+11:00

....i just had the strangest dream
that you were real.

a beautiful lofty thing

2007-02-26T14:58:00.000+11:00

That crazed girl improvising her music.
Her poetry, dancing upon the shore,
Her soul in division from itself
Climbing, falling she knew not where,
Hiding amid the cargo of a steamship,
Her knee-cap broken, that girl I declare
A beautiful lofty thing, or a thing
Heroically lost, heroically found.

No matter what disaster occurred
She stood in desperate music wound,
Wound, wound, and she made in her triumph
Where the bales and the baskets lay
No common intelligible sound
But sang, 'O sea-starved, hungry sea.'

surface

2007-02-26T14:43:00.000+11:00

so…
now i have some bruises
just under my skin
and if i put my fingers here and here
(like so)
it tastes like…midnight

strange, but

2007-02-16T00:18:00.000+11:00

love
makes
me
sad

diversity is nuts

2007-02-13T16:15:00.000+11:00

before 10am this morning, these had all passed my desk. whew.

squid
bushfires
stem cells
marine ict
squid (*again*, what the hell)
built environment planning
devil facial tumor disease
disposal of human body parts
aggregate media analysis
maritime law
aboriginal remains
innovations research (/mutters...)
aged care
corporate finance
japanese whaling policy

1966

2007-02-11T13:17:00.000+11:00

oh my gawwwd!
icky freaky game for girls

things

2007-02-05T01:52:00.000+11:00

some heartache/kept me awake

love
i take a very long time to be convinced
(which often makes things too late)
and i was so very sure
that i could live without the big fall

hurt
if i
(pinch of salt, leap of faith)
kiss you on the bits that hurt
will it make everything ok?
will you even feel anything?

heart
absence makes the heart grow fonder
so they say
they don't mention much about the cold
or the empty
or that damned ache where
i miss you so much it hurts

hold
what i have i hold...no, not really
what i have i disbelieve
right up until it does the disbelieving for me
mostly i can hold memories in the palm of my hand
cradle against them for a warm smile
sometimes it's like gripping water...
...the flimsy slips away, i want for the real thing

ache

2007-01-16T00:39:00.000+11:00

ache, ache, you live for the ache
that reminds you you're human
and wanted
and alive
but then it snaretears you
and catch-unawares you
and leaves you adrift
staring into the night

i keep getting to the edge and being too afraid to cross over. it's so much easier to keep everyone distanced and boxed up as abstractions...i get bowled over with the shock if i find out someone's actually thinking about *me*.

whispercroon and jazz

2007-01-14T00:51:00.000+11:00

i heard this at the end of a french short film, being sung in a jazzy-fem kinda style, and i couldn't pick why i knew it until i realised it was words, not melody. sounds different when elliott smith whispercroons it.

Drink up, baby, stay up all night.
With the things you could do, you won't but you might.
The potential you'll be, that you'll never see.
The promises you'll only make.
Drink up with me now and forget all about the pressure of days.
Do what I say and I'll make you okay and drive them away,
The images stuck in your head.
People you've been before that you don't want around anymore.
That push and shove and won't bend to your will.
I'll keep them still.
Drink up, baby, look at the stars, I'll kiss you again-
Between the bars, where I'm seeing you-
There with your hands in the air, waiting to finally be caught.
Drink up one more time and I'll make you mine.
Keep you apart deep in my heart separate from the rest,
Where I like you the best.
And keep the things you forgot.
The people you've been before that you don't want around anymore.
That push and shove and won't bend to your will.
I'll keep them still.

made in egypt

2007-01-04T00:08:00.000+11:00

some or maybe one of my edges
is made of sand
and when i lie down i
can feel myself trickling away into the nothing
grain by
grain by
grain.
sometimes it tickles and i just
idly wonder
when it will all flow back
other times
it makes me forget how to play

2006-11-28T12:58:00.000+11:00

some strange time of night or early in the dawning
what if i reached you and we talked all morning
this might be real enough to be the start of something

the anesthetic lure of apathy
nothing breeds nothing like nothing else

swimming in grace \where can I put my face
I’m hiding from things I can’t stand to melt into and stream

and I am watching you and I love your light and it spirals into the faraway

i miss you

2006-11-04T19:01:00.000+11:00

bjork's in my head today

I miss you
But I haven't met you yet
So special
But it hasn't happened yet
You are gorgeous
But I haven't met you yet
I remember
But it hasn't happened yet

And if you believe in dreams
Or what is more important
That a dream can come true
I, I will meet you
I was peaking
But it hasn't happened yet
I haven't been given
My best souvenir
I miss you
But I haven't met you yet
I know your habits
But wouldn't recognize you yet

And if you believe in dreams
Or what is more important
That a dream can come true
I miss you
I'm so impatient
I can't stand the wait
When will I get my cuddle?
Who are you?
I know by now that you'll arrive
I'll bide the time till I stop waiting
I miss you

listen to it

yum :)

2006-11-02T00:44:00.000+11:00

nectarines taste like summer
and mangoes taste like christmas

it's behind you!

2006-10-29T23:21:00.000+11:00

what are you looking for?
i can promise you it's not here
you can stare into a screen all you like

didn't you hear me?
what you're looking for is not here
it doesn't exist on the magical internets

no matter how hard you search
or how clever you get at google
a million miles of wires won't bring you any closer

but you're welcome to waste your heart away looking...

let go

2006-10-17T14:11:00.000+11:00

why do i do that thing
where i push people away
and close the door
just as they start to get close?

why do i act busy?
close off my heart
stop reaching out
and hide behind a smile

why do i shut them out
just when they're starting to reach in?
nod and look away
too icecool to fall
as if i have other things on my mind

cause all that's on my mind
is a stupid energy sapping fog
that drinks faith
swallows up trust
breeds doubt
and is made of nothing