Where are the fucking prawn crackers???

Yes, i just finished the prawn crackers :( and the last one tried to escape :o ! Didn't get very far, it went up my sleeve :S

On a completely unrelated note (depending on how you look at it) I got home last night and discovered a bruise on my knee. No, i was not attacked by prawns. Why is it terribly important then, you ask? Well, i'd been to a concert, and to be injured at a concert is an honour i've never before received. Now i have :] So, who's happy? :D me

Yes, Amanda Palmer is effing awesome, just to clarify.

*listens to Kaledrina*

Enough of my semi-coherent ramblings! I'll just leave you with another song, big band, or quite possibly motown(ish). It doesn't feel finished, but we'll see how it goes.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Remember when
You were Oh
So much younger and

Life, as the cliche` goes,
Was Oh
So much simpler and

You found adventure in
The smallest things
Like, a rainbow for a slide

Oh, the joy it'd bring
In the bath to see
A bubble angel floating by.

How I wish that thing
Could stay the same
Forever (and a day)

We would have joy
And no more bitterness
No cynicism for today.

Remember when a
Cardboard box was the biggest
Castle on the block

How that flimsy structure would
Protect you from the
Horrors just outside.

Well, I can tell ya,
I have lived in a
Shoe box/cell/Apartment

It ain't so glamorous
As when we were
Pretending

And how I wish these walls
Would keep all of those
Dragons at bay.

These walls aren't fireproof
And sadly that's
How they'll stay.

There ain't no quick reprieve
It's plain to see
This brave new world won't stay.

Oh and golly gee, thank goodness
I'd not like that
To be

So thank you for those cardboard houses
Thank you for those long whole hours
Thank you for letting me live free.

This doesn't have a beginning

...
(You're [plural])
Invading all my happy days
With false promises
(piano)

There's a fire breathing
Oh so coldly
In the depths
Of my conscious self

A fire rivaling
The caustic burn
Of your words on my
Throat

It doesn't even help
To bite them back
Swallow the
Vitriol

That bile tastes
So foul
I feel my stomach
Lining breaking

Words assaulting from in front and
Words assaulting from behind
Compound my stomach ache
As i fight it one more time

The temptation to
Sink lower
Overpowers on occasion
But thank Heaven you don't see that

No, you only see
The little girl
The one you joked
The one you bullied

I HAVE GROWN
But she's still there
Hiding on the
Outside

My protective shield
The old clam shell
But you eat shellfish
Don't you?

For years and years
My shell grew larger
Stronger
Til the junction was unclear

Who was I?
And who was she?
The words still stung
So wt?

Now the brave ol' rock
Of yesteryear's
Been washed away
Eroded down to sand

I've cast away my
Shield
And fight with armour
Dusty from disuse

It's braver to stand
Up and be
Just be, that's right
I'll just be me

So what if you can
See my heart?
My true intentions,
Here at last!

The fire's not so cold today
It's not so hard to
Fight that
Caustic burn

I'd rather not spit in
Your face
Be warned I'll strip you down
Shun you embrace

Your cold dead fingers
On my neck
They keep me breathing
Double Deck

I'll keep on playing
Silly games
With cards
It's not so hard

Just let the water flow around
Or wash me clean
From all those times
I drowned

I don't need saving
Anymore
My friends and I
We saved ourselves

We walk away from
All your lies
And all your cheats and all
Your cries

Save yourselves
It's not our job
We've seen the light
You see the fog

So keep on staring
Keep on staring
As we walk away form
You

This is the last time
That your arrows
Will find their
Way on through...

The Dealer

Deal me in
Our trek begins
Battle, Struggle to the finish

Gather, Meet
In all our armour
Deciding our style
Fine-tuning parameters

Play it straight
5 studs or 7
Or variate
With a Queen or 2

"First to 5, or 7 wins
Two pair don't count..."
Just Deal Me In!
Shuffle...

Cuts...
Cut the deck
(or for some players,
a Good Deal More)
Dealer, house, and bank galore

First hand is called
The Second drawn
Win or lose outright
The Fourth brought

The Brawl
(Brawling)

Our Trek was not ended
Yet all was in ruins
One man lay untouched
High horse reigned in

With unblemished armour
The Dealer sat smirking
I spat blood and glared,
Eyes and lips throbbing

I tossed down my Aces,
Announced a Full House
Back straight and Stormy muttered
"Deal Me Out..."

Mutterings

These two may or may not be connected, i'm not sure...
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Let me fly
In my fancy silver bathtub
Let the wind
Ruffle feathers on its wings
As i recline
Look at the sky
And you will see me waving
Goodbye


I want the world
I want the world
No one will listen
To me (or you)
There is the Mountain
Pity Muhammed has no climbing gear

Strap on your pack (and go)
Once you get to the top
Will you still plead our case?
Will it still be your cause?
Or were you tempted enough
To enjoy their lifestyle?

A Block (written a while ago)

It cannot be explained
That which is occuring

No time to linger long
We are not moving

Sentences verbose
Nouns are not enough

Some adjective is needed
My dictionary won't open

Expression
Obsession

Tell me what it is
Without words

Words i want
You know what i need

A Dream of Death

Background:

Murder
Murder
Headlines cry

Drowning
Drowning
Green water and die

Falling
Falling
After a fashion

Trapped
Trapped
In weeds of passion

Eyes
Eyes
Psychosis is thine

Mine
Mine
That murder is mine

Present Day:

Wedding bells chime and a Bridal March plays
A Priest, a Priest
Calls for happy days

At the end of the aisle stand a couple of lovers
A fraud, a fraud
Cry all the others

She will not drown, not like those before
Blood, blood
Will come to her door

Uprising ensues when the fraud is revealed
He runs, he runs
His mind still not healed

She was saved, she was, on this very date
For him, for him
Another victim waits

Hey there Delilah

Light hit her, blinding her eyes, less than a second before the barrage of sounds did the same to her ears. Delilah stood in shock at the number of people crowded into the foyer, laughing and talking loudly. They, in turn stared inquisitively (but politely) at her, unsure who the girl standing upon the doorstep was.

Regaining her senses, she stuttered, "H-hi. I'm Delilah. Gina's friend."

In the distance, she heard a garbled question. A woman near the front of the crowd shouted a response, "It's Delilah, Regina!"

A squeal greeted the shout, followed by a good deal of movement from the crowd - someone was trying to get to the front. After a few seconds a person flew out the door, folding Delilah into a bear hug.

"Reg!" came the strangled gasp from Delilah.

"Yeah let her breathe Gina!" the crowd chorused, as both girls collapsed into giggles.

Most of the evening was a blur for Delilah. After being ushered inside she was immediately absorbed into the crowd. Regina made a point of introducing Delilah to everyone, and while Delilah was sure to forget most names, she felt she was part of the family.

“So Delilah, what’re you studying?” asked one cousin, or aunt, she wasn’t sure, “Gina said something about journalism, but you know how confusing she is.”

“Hahaha, yes I know I can never get a straight answer out of her,” came the giggled reply, “I’m doing a double degree, Science/Arts.”

“Do you have to do maths?” piped up a smaller cousin.

“Yes, sadly I do.”

“Eww! Maths sucks!!!” chimed several cousins.

The laughter never stopped, Delilah noticed. Even if a sombre subject was discussed, another group were laughing, hysterically at that. The family drank up each other’s presence, enjoying every moment they had together. Petty arguments were quickly diffused, the culprits embracing for the rest of the evening.

Soon enough it was announced to the household that the cake would be cut.

“Five minutes okay?” came the warning.

Fifteen minutes later the dinner table was surrounded and the candles were being lit. Delilah watched from behind the crowd as Regina was thrust into the seat at the head of the table. As the last candle was lit, Regina looked around.

“Where’s Delilah?”

Heads turned this way and that. Once Delilah was located, a spotlight could not have been brighter.

“Come ON Delilah!” Regina gestured. Shyly, Delilah made her way over to Regina’s side.

“Take a picture!” someone called. A chorus of assent rose from the crowd, as cameras were passed to the cousins in the foreground. Delilah awkwardly moved closer, before Regina threw her arms around her. Chuckling at her friend’s bluntness, Delilah relaxed into Regina’s arms. Lights flashed around them as they laughed and pulled faces.

Keeping one arm around her friend, Regina picked up the cake knife, staring cheekily around the room.

“Get on with it Gina!” they all knew she was playing, but enjoyed playing along too much, “Just cut the cake already!”

Ginning, Regina made a neat cut into the soft cake, barely disturbing the icing.

Impressed, one cousin remarked, “That’s why she’s going to be such a good surgeon.”

Laughing appreciatively, the crowd continued with their games, “Come on now Gina, you touched the bottom, you have to kiss the nearest boy!”

“What if I don’t want to kiss the nearest boy?” came the half-serious reply.

“Too bad!” the crowd shouted back.

Regina sighed, stating somewhat enigmatically, “Fine, I’ll go for the next best thing.”

Pulling Delilah closer, Regina kissed her; softly at first, then with more flair. The game dictated she put on a show. Staring into each other’s eyes a few seconds later, they couldn’t help smiling shyly. Expecting dead silence, they were surprised at the outbreak of giggles, and a few appreciative whistles. More than a little embarrassed at their daring, Regina and Delilah joined in the laughter.

“Finally!” cried Regina’s sister, “I was so afraid you were going to stay single forever and live as a hermit on some mountain!” A fresh wave of laughter rolled over the crowd. Regina and Delilah smiled and hugged once more.

_____________

Why is it that i write something and hate it once i read over it? Answer me that...

The Headline Read: Death by Fantasy

Time is irrelevant when in mourning, so feel free to fuck with it. I think someone said that to me one day, years ago. Or I made it up to keep myself happy. Either way, it’s true. I know, because just last week I was fucking with time.

I don’t really remember when I first met her. Seventh grade camp somewhere in the bush, it might have involved an axe and some chocolate. I don’t know, I spent that camp knocked out from a fallen tree branch. All I got to do was archery. Anyway, the week after, at school, she was suddenly my friend.

We had a few things in common, a love of books and classic rock, contempt for ‘dance’ music (that you can only samba to) and the desire to learn how to properly arrange orchards. Mostly we’d predict people’s actions before they carried them out. Though evenly matched, our skill greatly surpassed everyone else’s.

Aside from that, we were two very different people. Putting aside (and occasionally embracing) these differences, our friendship grew. Growing bored with our analysis of playground faces, we extended our talents to the wider community, and, eventually, to literature. Having read most of the classics, and analysed characters and plot, we quickly became stuck. What were we to do, now that we had exhausted our source of fun? It was a conundrum that kept us in a table tennis and pool playing rut for weeks.

The answer came suddenly one day. As most answers do, it arrived on the doorstep at an awkward moment. I could tell you that we were building a small fort in her bedroom but you’d know that wasn’t true. Over dinner than night it was agreed; we would take a novel each and re-write it based on a single change in the main character’s persona.

She chose for me the usual crime-fiction she knew I detested. As parameters: I was not to turn it into a fantasy or romance and feathers were to be involved somehow. For her I chose a fantasy, of course, and told her not to make it crime or historical, and to involve a boa constrictor.

Tragedy struck a week later, on our way home from a picnic. Engrossed as she was in the novel (reading it for the fifth time) she lost all senses and got into a fight with a train. She lost. The irony was not lost on me: the train carriage was called ‘Fantasy’.

Una poesia in un ristorante

Fra mille anni
Tratta forse
Che mangiamo qual'cosa differente

Oggi, pero`,
Sto contenta
Di mangiare cosi`

_____

This can be seen as singing the praises of the restaurant, which i was, it was great. Also, this reads as an ad...

Oh my Beautiful One

I love you to the moon and back
But my spaceship's out of fuel

I would cut the first rose for you
Though i would drown in the garden

Slip beneath the ice
To see my beloved

Cut her a rose
As thorns cut her too

The moon looks black
From this, my vantage

On the negative of a photo
With poison on my lips

While i may be immortal
None know such joys as these

The fire, the lonely suffering
'Tis why i seek to have you closer

I would be with thee
On the black moon of ours

Sharing our poison
Caressing black rose thorns

Yet all the while drowning
Slowly, beneath the ice

Ludwig (unfinished)

Ludwig and Friend were playing a game
“I’ll guess your music, you guess my name”

The challenge was met and, of course, Ludwig won
“My music’s unheard of, your name is just one”

On they both lived, Ludwig and Friend
His name said to none, save a whisper at end

“Come closer, dear Friend,” he called in his way
“Let me whisper your name and bid thee good day”

And so it was that they parted from then
Never to meet, nor to speak again

Another Poem From Mathematics

Olfactory Attraction
Deems i prefer one paper
Or one book
Over another

The young and fresh
Adventuresome
Or old, seasoned and loved
You are mine

Be you brash
Reckless in your nature
Or bored and apathetic
True love shall not come from me

Oh to sit with a sturdy tome
Recline and be comfortable
Lightly touch your pages
Lovingly caress your spine

I love you completely
Though you cause me no end of bother
And 'til reality seeks a companion
Fantasy shall be my lover

Parachutes

For Tuls


My little parachute
See it fly
See it soar

You float, you float
So prettily
And float right out the door

Have many little
Adventures
And big adventures too

Just come back
Little parachute
Adventure with me too

Remember Fold? It's back :)

Fold
Fold again and again
Will you ever stand?
Un-crease the fold?

Allow life
So walk along
Smell a rose
Just be

Is this the last act in the play?
How will you end?
Break the shackles of existence?
Will you be free after that?

So please fold again and again
Stand up and shout!
Un-crease that fold
In your cape

Allow us to be
Walk along with me
Smell that rose
Let it be

Face the Last Act
End the Play
Free you prisoners
Just don't save the day

No just Fold

Ode to Staedtler

I. Chicken
II. Vampire Smile
III. Pens!!!
IV. Calligraphy
V. and VI. The Innuendo is Purely for your Benefit
VII. Tombstone

My friend bounced up and told me
"I have a German pen!"
I knew what she was like and thought
"Oh, what a silly hen!"

Too quick was I to throw disdain
And laugh and chortle too
Her passion overtook her as
She said "I wish you knew!"

So Monday through to Friday's eve
She praised her pen with glee
Bought another and another
And then bought one for me

Through expounding on the virtues
The colours pink and blue
Green and orange; how they wrote
Oh! Now I love them too!

I took the pen she gave me (pink!)
It was my very own
And wrote and wrote and wrote with it
'Til all the ink was blown

Now it lays beside me, dying
Spread-eagled on the floor
Observing its spent carcass
I think "I want one more"

Farewell my blue-inked German pen!
Oh what a time we've had
Our adventures are all chronicled
In my lecture pad

To Question: Part IV - An Inspection of Desire

Two roses stood together
Entwined stem to stem
I stood there, gazing in envy
Longing for one to be mine

Questions formed themselves
In the deep dark currents of thought
Did i want the rose?
Or just a flower, to call my own?

A private Hell burned inside me
At the sight of rose with rose
Or the thought of flower and flower
And my standing alone forever

Yet in my time with a rose
I felt not the joy of Heaven
Only a quiet Purgatory
At clandestine moments

Desirous to burn all flora
For forsaking that which i give
Held back by the Hope of Heaven
I quell torrential flames

Inevitably I sit thinking
A torrential downpour of thoughts
Better it be the rain to comfort me
Wait and Hope for a flower of my own

Giddiness

Oh to be happy!
What a wonderful state

We all know it
We've all known it

Life has an undercurrent of misery
Why must it be so?

Yet this is not a lament
Far removed

Ode of Joy
A day of Joy

It is a day to celebrate
And celebrate we shall!

This day of days
Why not all days?

All days are worthy
So let them be worthy

Let us be giddy with merriment!
And never stop!

To Question: Part III - Integrity

Is it wrong to question integrity?

A whisper
A whisper
That everyone hears
Yet no one knows of

That which would have you looking up at the sky
And realising it is the world
Which is looking down at you
Down upon you

Is it wrong to question motives?

The scene of the crime is rife with clues
A finger print there
Puddle of blood
Of course, the body

Suspect the list
And all those on it
No one is above suspicion
Make sure you arrest the right person, though

Is it wrong to hate actions?

A fist is only meant
In the heat of the moment
As with a hug
Or a kiss

Inaction is as worse
Sedentary
Shirking
Take responsibility

Is it wrong to hate words?

An empty love is full of words
Spoken and unspoken
Filled with contempt
And other nasty emotions

Words of any sort
Really mean nothing
Superflous and unnecessary
When you have actions

Is it wrong to be so hypocritical?

I will say one thing
And mean another
If only to appease you
Of what i truly feel

I mean all i say
Though not allways followed
My actions should speak louder
Then again, I don't expect them to be heard

Is it wrong to love?

So much so that it hurts
So much more than anyone else
So passionately as to be violent
So violently as to be passionate

We were taught to love
And love is all we do
Yet we let it hurt us so
We let ourselves die in spite of it

Is it wrong to love and hate?

Christ prayed in the Garden
"Spare me"
He loved, he detested
He forgave

Forgive me for loving
Forgive me for hating
Forgive me for doing both at the one time
Or give me reason not to

To Question: Part II - My Kind

You're the kind of person who makes me think
When i get closer and closer
And shouldn't be thinking

They're the kind of people who'd make me drink
Hide away in a corner
And forget about you

I'm the kind of person who is so bold
Hold your hand when alone
Shrink away in company

Are you more me than ever?
Am i more you
Than those who've been you?

Can I adequately convey to you
The gamut I feel
In a late night typing of words?

It's all i can do to release myself
From what i feel
For you

Still enduring you and them and all else
Make me crawl away and hide/cry
Behind my veneer

All the joys of this life
Are they truly enough?
For the kind of girl who'd make you love

A Second Beginning (and a little more, but still not complete)

My friend said
I love a vampire
Do you think
He’d let me live in the night?

She’d stay in eternal night
Invite me to join her
And I’d bring you
(I’d take you)

You would be mine
I'd own your night
Just as she'd own mine
And he, hers

A Beginning (to be continued)

Let us go to the world
Let us be as we were
Let us run
And be free

We all want to grow old
We all want a home
We want to be
(Just be)

For Mel (from MBLG)

Listen!

What a time we shall have...

What a day to be
Day to be

Free me
Or is it you?

It's better in the dark
We all know it's true

A purple flash
A cape

Remember,
Capes get you killed

Don't get sucked in
Trust what you know

What you see if deceiving
What you hear is off key

What you do is worth nothing
Lest you do unto thee

(no i have no idea what that means,
do you?)

Let's stop our tangential
Forced back on the track

It's no fun on the straight road
How i want to go back

Easy is not hard
Just boring

Keep listening
You might learn something

To my Sisters of the Night

Fight or flight is a curious response. Governing all but one. Or so it is believed. A deer runs from the hunter. The hunter runs from the bear. A human should run from death.

By curious coincidence i met one who didn't. Endowed as he was with an incurable ailment, he welcomed death as an old friend.

His sister was tormented by his death. To lose one so close - it was understandable. The comfort i could provide seemed not enough. She withdrew, and i saw her infrequently for a time.

We studied together for a few years after. Sharing a flat, we became close. Still, though, her brother lingered on her mind. She frequently disappeared into the night when he was discussed. Often, she would dismiss my insistence he was in a better place; she could have made it so he would not have to die. Unsure of her meaning, i argued not, made do to hold her close as she wept.

Some months passed, i saw her less and less in the evenings. My concern grew as she reverted to her previous, antisocial self. her bright eyes became dull, her vivacious manner turned withdrawn and distressed. At a loss, i confronted her as to her change in mood. A black cloud entered her eyes and she swept from the room.

Determined, i followed after her. Through the dark streets and alleys. My only thought to protect she i had grown to love. Passing into a forest, i grew wary. Tales of creatures that resided there surfaced. Yet i could not leave her be. Not this time.

Near midnight i stumbled upon a clearing bathed in moonlight. In the centre she stood - a goddess transformed. From her radiated a power i had never felt, save for the first time we met. At her feet lay a man, seduced by her power, yet clearly unable to sustain it. He had died, a pitiful fool, as she fed on his essence.

She gazed upon me - I could not have fooled her and slipped away - black eyes gleaming red. I understood all. Her brother could have been free to live. She could have turned him, imparted her power to him. That which she now offered me.

Many years later, she revealed that were it not for her love for me, she would have taken me by force. As it were, i freely accepted to spend eternity with her. Ours is a connection deeper than any. The most devoted of lovers do not reach the love we share.

We remain this way for eternity. Of the night.

To Question: Part 1

We're all in this together
But are we?

What happens to trust
When you can't trust the shirt on your back?

I trust you to be honest with me
And honest to no one else

Can i trust that you would save me?
Would you truly come and aid me?

A friend in need is a friend indeed.
Or a friend in debt?

I trust you could destroy me
And any chance i have to be.

I trust a thousand lifetimes
And i trust it to hurt.

"Hello starry night..."

A potrait of you
Mother
Father
Parent

Caregiver you are
Your portrait hangs around us
Painted blue and gray

Better it be known
You hold a rainbow
In your pocket
Are its origin, in fact

I see a thousand pictures
Of every piece of you
From my vantage
And yours

The bright, shining images
Show your playfulness
The life that is not life
Yet is what we are

Points if you can read this

esnes not tsum ew noitasnes etinifni na. emit lla dna ,tnaw I lla ,wonk I lla dnoyeb uoy evol dluow I wonk uoy ,rehto hcae evol ot eerf ew erew. eb ti tel tonnac I ,uoy gnivol fo thguoht eht ta erusaelp htiw eid I hguoht. su no ton taht hsiw dluow I dna, esnes etinifni eht ni efil etacilpmoc ot si evol ni eb ot. 'evol ni' eb ot ecnahc eht evah ton su tel. uoy evol I

rettel evol a

Two mintue maths poem

A funeral
Of the dead

A fitting place to be

Sunday best
Left at home

Who the fuck really cares?

Sit ourselves
Masked and not

In the pews of worship

Damned to Hell
Or Heaven, worse

A life of Mathematics

To A Friend

Run through the garden
Magestic hedges
Of days gone past
Days never happened
And days yet to come

In an ink and paper hailstorm
Can I find the castle within?
A sanctuary
For me and all
All who wish to be

Yet the maze is large
The journey long
The past twisting
Dangerous
Lost

A precipice juts
And i am almost over
Flying away
In a book today
Or tomorrow

Letting you go
I shall return
I cannot stay away
You are too good
You are my friend

Some don't understand
Most do not wish to
The joy, the fun
Adventure
In you

I visit your brothers and sisters
Cousins and such
Hold your children in my arms
Love them
Learn from them

Finding myself at home with you
With few for company
Let me lose myself on the journey
Find your castle, fortress
Remain in you forever

My friend

The Truth is Worse than Anything I could bring Myself to do to You (Take Two)

I see you

I see you
I saw you
Let me see you

Can we not talk without a code?
A binary vector could not help us
Check digit after digit

Our signals are confused
Our wires are crossed
The message is not getting through

Or is it?
Are we simply ignoring it?
Refusing to see?

Have i not made my communication clear?
Sign, signal, voice, word
Has it not got through?

What do we do?
When communication does not fail
Yet we do nothing

Live as life is
Without change
Happy in stasis

Would this make us happier?
I cannot know...
Nor do i know if you would

Yet i am convinced
You must know
You must be the one to know

To do

I see you

I want you
(I didn't say that)

The Truth is Worse than Anything I could bring Myself to do to You (Take One - aka, piece of crap)

Do not ask me
What i feel
Do not ask me
If i care

My answer: a resounding yes
I care
I care
I care

As for feeling...
What do we feel?
If not the throes of emotion
Deep within our souls

Anything less is but
A fancy
A fancy
A fancy

Yet i fancy,
I fancy for you
But i will not tell you
Never and a day

So don't ask
I shall not tell
What i feel
Feel for you

A quiet moment
That we can share
Is not enough
It's just not fair

Let's not face it
Delusion is grand
Grandeur of delusion
Fills our minds

What you are
Words cannot describe
Were you to feel what i feel
You could not deny

Were i to feel what you feel
I'd surely not survive
Can we feel together?
Just once

As long as we do not speak
Do not ask about our feeling
Do not ask
Do not ask

The truth
Would destroy
Heart and soul
What would we do then?

I think this sucks, but apparently it doesn't...

Sorry if i'm a litte too offensive.
It really isn't just the way i am.
We say that life is just an observation
Of everything we never truly want (and what we need)
So i'll give you my own little observations
On how life is supposed to be.

Scream enough when you are born,
For life to already hate you.
A quiet baby's a dead one - and the bath water's already waiting.
Smiles and cute innocence, will get you through childhood.
In adolescence you split in two:
Rebellious, drunken slut.
Studious, stoned whore.
Or a Can-Can hybrid.

I'm now more open to life - I've tasted it and seen it
So, of course, i want it
More than i fucking know i need it.

Monty said to me it was awfully nice to have a cock.
I disagree (but that's just me) - a kitty is much more my style
*wink wink nudge nudge*
I'd like to take a ride (down the street and back) with you.
I'd pull you into my car
We'd fight over who's steering.
Rhumba across a dancefloor - that sexy dance of love.
It's quite boring if you don't mean it
I mean it, but never danced like i have.
Mostly because sex on a dancefloor's not legal.
Heaven knows i stick to the law (if nothing else).

Another little pretty observation:
In a lecture no one gives a shit.
A microcosm of Australia.
Are you attending?
Who fucking cares!
Let's go get a drink.

I will drink vodka, but prefer my beer.
A connoisseur of lager,
Though i know nothing about it.
Let me prove i can hold my drink.
After that i'll balance the bottles into an artwork and auction it off.

I'll make a fortune (hopefully) from my drunken art.
Go and hide on an island when the world pisses me off.
I've already done that (metaphorically) and discovered i really hate the world.
Yet i put up with the world - i know it cannot be changed.
Not by me.

Here's to all life's observations - be they big or small.
Here's to us and us and them - whoever we may be.
Here's to drink and drunken love - rhumba in a car with me.

Heil Rail

Effectively effective,
The lesser of evils,
My friend I shall meet you this week
(And next).

You are there for my journey,
Beginning, middle and end,
Yet not the prelude
Nor finale.

A motley collection,
Old, young, cold, warm.
I prefer the company of the old
And cold.

Complaints abound
Of you and your minders.
I never really understood,
You’ve been nice to me.

Yet my friends always turn,
You are no different.
A bad day came,
Then another.

Jokingly slow
I cursed your joy
At my frustration
My boredom.

The next day you were sick,
Cancelled our appointments
When I was already waiting
For you.

Changing and changing,
It made no difference.
I ran and ran,
Though I never ran for you before.

Utterly spent
You have destroyed my faith.
Yet I love you still
As I do all.

Word

What do we put to the world?
That which we articulate
To convey
Understand

Evolution dictates a change
Sign me
Speak to me
Shout at me

With language comes understanding
Or,
More likely,
Confusion

Can we co-exist?
Use a beauty so great
Yet not know
What it means

“What’s in a name?”
A word
An intonation
Which sets our hearts alight

He knew
The Greatness of words
That which confuses
Confounds

Few have truly been privy to this
Most have wanted to share
More and more have we glimpsed it
Unknowingly

Yet we continue
Exploration
A beauty so real
We feel it beyond our consciousness

My First Suicide

Oliver stands on the hills,
Hair and clothes wet still.
The worthless shaft and twig gripped in his hand
Or hanging loosely, plain and bland.

Gaze at the mottled,
Blue, gray crush.
Will it envelope me still?
If i ask it, will it keep me?

Sing to me
Sweet, Heavenly sounds
For you
Are the last i hear.

Caressed by a pale hand
My cheek grows numb.
Surrender to my longing
Not to long for.

I dreamed of a train today
Of how it passed beneath me.
I watched the empty tracks
And wondered for a moment.

Feel not the pain
My earthen friend
Fear not
The deadly joy

I join you later
Or not at all
Depends
On my last.

Untitled #1 (it kinda sucks)

Don’t you think it’s funny?
I only met you a minute ago

There’s something to be said
For intelligent conversation

If I don’t know your name
It’s easier to be your friend

If I forget your name
It’s easier to love you

Love without names is so satisfying
Yet unsatisfyingly so

I’d rather scream your name to the World
Than crash silently to the shore

In another minute I might know you
Then we can be friends and love

To Want

I finally realise the Great Tragedy of want
(for it is not love, I know not of this love)

We hear tell of wanting

A hunger such that one cannot eat
I have felt it

A longing so great one cannot move
I have felt it

A desire to speak such that one cannot speak
I have felt it

Have felt, and fell still
This wanting

I hunger
Yet do not eat

I long for
Yet cannot move

I desire
Yet do not speak

For fear of wanting
My want
And yours

The acknowledgement of our want
The Tragedy of our want

It is all true

A moment

Look at me, Angel Eyes
For you are all i see

I would not live forever
Were it not for that moment

That one second
When your eyes met mine

And in the stopping of Space and Time
A thousand thought passed between us,
Few that i could hear

You are always happy

Even if your person isn't
Your eyes are still alight

It's a great tragedy when you're sad
When your eyes are not happy

Yet...they retain their beauty
Perhaps even moreso

There's a tear in my heart
As i reach for you

One moment is all
All that we need

I hear those thoughts better now
We need nothing more

I need nothing more
Than to hold you

Gaze into your Angel Eyes
For this one moment in Space and Time

(for you, my Angel Eyed friend)

Smokescreen

Many a time have i held you
And wanted you to kiss me

Many a time have i touched your hair
And wanted you to touch me

Many a time have i laughed in pain
And wanted you to want me

So we could hold, kiss and touch each other
Or sit still and laugh at pain

Formaldehyde (a song)

Infect a dying flesh
Pulse through veins of steel
Hunger for remission
Hunger for the rest

Scream my name at the gates
It's not the key but
We'll get you some notice
(of the cost)

Bleed it dry
Hear me cry
As i wait
Drowned and broken (by you)

Wait forever
Is it better?
Than to suffer this longing
Gripped by another

Would i rather die?
Than maintain the hope
Keep this facade
Of not wanting (of not wanting)

Bleed it dry
Hear me cry
As i remain
Drowned and broken (by my own undoing)

________

Hehe, this one rocks!!!

Ponte del Cuore

All my lovers
And the lovers of my mind

I have found you
Who is one and the same

Or would be
Were it not for us

All of us
Not just you and I

A bridge is always bigger than imagined
This one's no exception

Prepared as we are to cross
Others stay behind

Ultimately we are left alone
A dangerous thought, not just for us lovers

Fear of Heights <=this one (hehehe, this is number13!!!)

I am thrown
Into the sky
Into your arms
And out of the nearest window

Fling me
So high
Send me to freefall

Excavate me stomach
Rid me of my last meal

As i wait
In the next corridor
for my turn

Is your execution over yet?

Bang the Doldrums

Best friends
Ex-friends to the end
Better off as lovers
And not the other way around
__________________________________________________

Better off as lovers

How do we resist?

I could easily reach out and touch you
I could tell you
I could show you
How –

Yet I force myself onto another train,
Not yours

The ticket that I never use has your name on it.
So it shall hide, and remain unused.

i forgot what this meant...

Fold.

Fold again.

And again.

Will you ever stand?

Un-crease the fold?

Allow life?

So walk along.

Smell a rose.

Be.

Is this the last act in the play?

How will you end?

Break the shackles of existence?


Will you be free after that?

In Jubilation

I love you

You know that don't you?

I couldn't live without you

Or could I?

I'll never let you go

I just did, didn't I?

Should i be cliche?

I want you, I need you

It's true...

Oh God, but is it?

Is it really you?

Today it is tomorrow it isn't

But only for a minute

Then it's always back to you

Deeper

Deeper

Deeper again

How can i possibly feel you this close

When you're always so far away?

I don't care

Let me rejoice

Just knowing you exist

Dreaming that you exist

So let me be

Loving you

To Do With Time

Is it over yet?
It doesn't feel like it...

(it isn't really, but that's not the point)

There is so much to do before i can sleep
So why am i sleeping now?

Procrastination is an art
and i am a master.

or is it my master?


Time is never satisfying.


Tumultuous


It's always slipping away

and i can't get it back...

An Encouter in Two Parts

Do I hear your voice?


No...


Is that it again?
Or is my imagination giving us sound?


This scene is silent.
A theatre held in suspense
Shock, horror, awe
At the scene unfolding.

Yet the curtains are still drawn.
This scene is a secret.
Who knows we exist?
It suits us well.

Anonymity is favoured among those who commit such dark deeds as ours.
On whom society may frown and in turn applaud.
Two faces show how we have changed
Two faces show our sameness.

As long as the curtain is drawn
(and we are hiding together)
Keep me here.

Keep me in your embrace, or you in mine.
Keep my forehead to you bosom, or yours to mine.
Keep your hand at my side
As mine caresses your back.

There's much to be said of a dark deed
Countless untold caves with pools of black water
A single stone slab protruding, the crack in the mirror.
Find the darkest place and you have found us.

Once again
Hold me tightly.
Tangle my hands in your hair
Tangle yours in my shirt.

One senses the fire that hides in this place
Though the darkness is impenetrable.
One thinks they hear it yet never do.
We are too clever for that.

Glance into my eyes
I will hold your gaze
I'll not let it go
Not until your eyes can no longer resist the pull of their sockets.

The light should be blinding
All should know.
Yet they are blind to this
To us.

Give me that moment.
Let it be mine.
That one second, one infinitesimal moment of time
Where eyes glaze and hearts cry out

They suspect
They do not
A time may come when all will know
It is not today.

Cry out my name
I'll whisper yours.
Stop time for me
Please... I must have it

As the black pool rocks with turbulence
Waves crash to the shore, against the walls.
The lines blur, the curtain fades
Nothing else matters.

Lay in my arms now
I'll lay in yours.
Keep me forever
My heart on your shores.

The stone silence returns, the black pool is calm.
They wish to be free, as they lay in each other's arms.
All is as it will be
And the curtain flutters in the breeze.

London Calling

Come in, Come in!
We're so glad you're here!
Rest, be at home
Grow and Learn
Feel comfortable in this space.

---

The outside world is closed to you.
You need to know it
To know how to deal with it.
Don't think of going out there!
All you need to know is here.

---

When you let me stand at the door,
Looking out
Barely interacting.

Do you know how many time's i've snuck out?

I'll stand outside and you'll think i'm still inside.
So much that you don't know,
But do i want to tell you?

Why am i so scared to be me?
Why am i so scared to be you?
I don't want to be you,
Stop showing me our similarities,
Why do we have to be this way?

Tell me i can be myself,
Fuck it, i know i am.

Shit, let's leave this before it degenerates.

_______________

Don't worry, i'm not actually feeling that angry :)

Tell me you heard my dark, disturbing love song (about sex)

She said she loved me.
She didn't lie.
We said,
While we were hidden in the sky:
Kiss me in the candlelight
Kiss me in the moonlight
Kiss me
Down in the Dungeon

A cloak of darkness over our dreams.
Face reality,
It's better than it seems.
Take me in the candlelight
Take me in the moonlight
Take me!
Down to the Dungeon

Open your eyes.
We're caught in the light.
Baring all, we have a decision tonight.
Be mine in the candlelight
Be mine in the moonlight
Be mine, please, be mine...
Down in the Dungeon
_________________

Right now i think this ^ is crap. Evidently when i wrote it (25th Jan 2007, from 7:30pm to 8:15pm) i thought it was pretty good. I get that way when i'm extremely tired.

Is it crap? I have no idea anymore... For me, this has always been a song (a song with only a tiny snatch of melody and no actual chords that sounded right, but still, a song). If anyone can make it sound like a halfway decent song, go for it!

A Song (yet to be titled)

Sitting on the edge of your bed
We laugh, we live
Sniffing perfume to Nickelback.
There's something so sad in these melodies
But something so fun in the scent of life
And the company of you.

Familiarity reins,
Even though we're not here often.
A sickly cavalcade,
And i know that smell...

You say it's yours,
But i know it someone else's;
Stretching my imagination
To reach that unattainable conclusion.
Oh well, it'll be you for me now.

A Photo Story (minus the photos)

Ok, so I imagine this all taking place in a courtyard at university (it's gorgeous). It doesn't have to be a university in the story, but it has to be that courtyard.

This will be a bit of a story in a sense that, it'll be vague. I'll provide the action, but you do the rest. It may not even be that good, but it's one of the things i just have to get out.

_______


A courtyard. The witching hour descends. Moonlight streams through the trees - by far the loudest sound.

Eyes meet at a rustle of leaves. Fearful, curious, suspicious.

Yet they catch something. Something only they could recognise. The one thing they share.


The hollow in the heart of a dying man... Can the living ever know it? What if they have never truly lived?


Was it right? Their mutual filling of hollow ground. The replenishing of each other's souls. Staring as the hour wore on.

Their free-fall ended at the harsh screech of an owl. It circled high above. Preying.

The first touch. A soft kiss. The promise of another encounter.

And they were gone.
__

Craving physical contact. Glazing eyes as the mind strays...

Jolted back into reality again and again and again.

Concern amongst the faithful and dissenters alike. What the fuck is going on? Where are they? Why are they there?

If only they knew...

__

The secret meetings continue.


One afternoon, shafts of light witnesses to their embrace, shades and hues of lovers' skin create the picturesque scene.

Are we loved?

The embrace tightens.

Yes

__

And so it continued, their clandestine love

The Unsaid and Unthought Peer Pressure Gets to Me

So, i've figured it's maybe about time to do a "hi, this is me" blog and provide you with some (relatively) concrete words.

CONCRETE CONCRETE CONCRETE

^ few people i know will enjoy that, many will roll their eyes, all will take it as further proof of the nutcase i profess to be (or inhabit the body of).

Onwards!!!! [she cried gallantly, whilst posing as a knight in 14th century England]

Lets see how far into a list of "103 things about me" we can get before i remove my laptop from it's precarious perch atop the side of my right knee. (yes, Helena, 103, think about it)

1. Hi, my name's Sara {hi Sara}. My blog name (?) comes from my nonna's nickname for me, Saricella. Other nicknames include Sarz, "hey you" and idiot (courtesy of my loving brother).

2. Guess i should say i'm an aussie of italian heritage (hence 'nonna'). I love Italy and i cannot wait to go back and visit the family i have there. Also cannot wait to go visit famiglia in Ohio, USA.

3. My name was pulled out of (no not a hat) a glass. The other options were my grandmothers' names. To my knowledge, my brother did not have the whole name choice thing.

4. I have two birthmarks, you get to guess where.

5. My favourite colour...does not exist. I can just hear all the physicists out there going "no, why did she say that?! Dont listen to her, there aren't any colours that don't exist!!!" Relax, i'm not suggesting anything of the sort. Just that i have no preference. If i see a colour i don't like, i'll let you all know.

(break for dinner, precariousness has ended, laptop on lap now)

6. (ooh evil number!) I actually have the whole 'certain number from Revelation' superstition. Also don't like walking under ladders, although there is an aspect of adventure in it. I like black cats and friday 13th (excuse to eat black jelly beans), but i don't put shoes on the table and i do like >3 leafed clovers.

7. My mobile phone used to be my dad's. I've had it almost a year now. It's umm... a phone, lol, a flip phone, Telstra. Ooh and i just got some more credit for it the other day (the day i first started writing this).

8. Music was implanted in my soul when i was four. My family and i were in Italy, in my dad's village. It was the day of the village festival. That evening a band was playing and i fell asleep to Ravel's "Bolero". I've loved it and music every since.

9. My first musical instrument was a keyboard. I started learning when i was five and quit when i was 11. By that time i didn't want to practise because the teacher was nuts. I learnt more about musicology in yrs 9 and 10 than i did in six years of keyboard lessons.

10. I did eventually get a piano...and an acoustic guitar...which i gave to my brother...once i got another acoustic guitar...and then an electric guitar. That's the extent of my instrument collection.

11. I like lego. Currently, there's a lego pyramid sitting in the box of lego, built by me. Part of me could be an engineer, the lego part.

12. Harry Potter holds a special place in my heart (the story and potterverse, not the character or actor). As much as he looks like my brother, he's still good looking. As much as people will bash the story, i love it, i will obsess over it, i will someday get a quidditch uniform!

13. Ah, 13, we have finally arrived. Yes, 13 is my favourite number. Yes, my birthday is the 13th September. No i wouldn't mind if i had a black t-shirt with a white '13' on the back...

14. I have a lot of blue t-shirts. Even though i don't have a favourite colour, if you forced me to pick, i may utter blue.

15. Consequently, i only have one green shirt, one brown shirt, one red shirt, one pink shirt, one tan shirt, no purple shirts and one grey shirt (with Elmo).

16. Come to think of it, i have about four or five black shirts as well...

17. Speaking of black clothes. The only time i've been shopping with mum, her sister and my other aunt (and my cousin) was last year, after my nonno died. It was surreal, being there with them. Mum said it well, "we should've been out having fun shopping just before Christmas."

18. It's the one day i'll never forget, the day he died. Totally ruined my brother and cousin's last day of school. Death is something you can never imagine...even once you've seen it.

19. Also a week i'll never forget. Aside from all the black, there were a lot of people. Some family i don't remember seeing, some people my mum, aunt and uncles hadn't seen in years.

20. As you may have picked up by now, i have a laptop (der). Mum and Dad payed for most of it, but i contributed as well. It's a MacBook, white, i already have msn for mac on it :) I'm set!

21. I am going to die of a chocolate overdose...or a sugar overdose.

22. When i was 10 i was diagnosed with 'glue ear'. I had grommets put in my ears when i was 11. The specialist was also an allergist, so he put me on this medical diet. I couldn't have milk or milk products, acidic fruits and a bunch of other stuff. I don't keep the diet very well...

23. Another musical note: i have a very healthy appreciation for opera. Scratch that, i love opera! My dad used to put opera on when we went to visit relatives ad spent an hour in the car.

24. My favourite non-alcoholic drink is lemon lime and bitters.

25. My favourite alcoholic drink is yet to be decided but is probably something girly like malibu and coke; though i don't mind a good beer.

26. I like maths. Simple as that. It just works, and i like things that work.

27. I guess it's a good thing that maths is required in my university course. The science faculty requires that all science students study at least 6 credit points of maths over the duration of their degree. So, i'm doing calculus and statistics this semester.

28. The other subjects i study in my degree are chemistry, physics and spanish beginners.

29. My primary goal in life, career wise, is to become a teacher. So, i'll need a further year of study after my science degree is finished.

30. If that fails, i'll study to be a librarian.

31. If that fails, I'm opening up my own lawn mowing business. I already have someone who'll join me if her plans also fail.

32. Truly, the dream is to go somewhere in America and make a film. Maybe a romantic comedy or something else, either way, as long as it has a good strong message and a good strong script.

33. Hehe, the bus i used to catch home from school was number 33. And the house two doors down from the school - the spot where mum dropped my brother and i off - was also number 33.

34. I often find interesting patterns like that.

35. One day i will probably invent my own language, or a code that works really well.
Amendment: i should have said, find a language i started to invent and finish inventing it.

36. About midway down my list of 'things to achieve' is break a world record. I'm not sure what, but it'll be good.

37. My absolute most favouritest pasta is mezza luna. Basically, they're similar to ravioli, but in a half-moon shape. They taste so good if you get them (or make em) fresh and eat them with (what the world would call) napoletano sauce.

38. I do have a soft spot for a well made burger or kebab.

39. I believe the statement "minority groups are destroying australian culture" is contradictory.

40. Though i'd always known they were Great, the first time i really fell in love with Queen was when i went to see "We Will Rock You", the stage production by Ben Elton. Everyone else went to the merchandise stand and bought the greatest hits CDs or the like, but i bought the score to the show. If i have it in front of me, i can play all of Bohemian Rhapsody.

41. I still don't know in what context to use 'i digress'.

42. My mind is adept at retaining trivial information. Hence, my love of trivia.

43. I like to use big words, because i can. I know what they mean and how to use them, so why shouldn't i use them?

44. Sadly, people think i'm being a smart arse when i use big words.

45. As such, i do want to write a novel, just so i can use all my big words at least once.

46. A true scientist, i am always fascinated by how things work.

47. I've always been the listener. Even when i've had my own problems to deal with, i'd take time to listen to someone else's problems and help if i could (and sometimes even if i couldn't).

48. Being the oldest of six grandchildren (on my mother's side), i have always been the mature and responsible one. When i was younger and wasn't interested in what the other children were talking about, i'd go and sit with the mothers' club and listen to what they were discussing.

50. I should probably be studying right now.

51. Recently, we acquired some goldfish. They are technically my brother's and he won't name them.

51.5. Woohoo! Halfway there!

52. I can never write the perfect song. After i play it for the third time, it sounds wrong.

53. I can, however, write the perfect poem. I love my poems. Apparently, so does my friend, she called one hardcore. I nearly fainted with pride.

54. That friend may never read anything i've written about her. Even if i didn't tell her she was the subject, she could guess it.

55. My experiences with acting have been good. I find it easy to become someone else. It's how i did well in my last speech in high school (i put on an accent from the British Isles, i think it was Scottish).

56. Mum does folk art. I wish i could paint like she does, but i like how i paint/draw anyways. It's more geometric, focusing on shapes and their interactions.

57. I bite my nails and the skin around them. My aunt's partner bites his nails as well. He says we have a mission. To stop.

58. We have two small mandarin trees out the back. Regardless of their size, we have gotten a pretty good haul the last two years.

59. No, i do not have kangaroos hopping down the street. If i went further out west, i'd definitely see kangaroos hopping along, possibly down a street.

60. If i were to give you a grand tour of the family home, i'd have to tell you who is in each of the photos and the context. Not something that was mandated, i just like doing so.

61. The one part of the Sydney Royal Easter Show i have to see (when i go) is the produce section. I can live without the woodchopping and the polo matches and the showbags and fireworks, but i cannot live without seeing the produce section.

62. I like sport.

63. I did actually play soccer for four years, so i know what i'm talking about there.

64. Yes i do like the movie "Bend it like Beckham". It's just too much fun!

65. I think i can watch almost any sport. Even golf. I do like watching the rodeo, though.

66. I am continually inspired by how you can make a musical instrument out of almost anything. (as i sit here and blow across the top of a glass bottle)

67. As much as i want to live a long and happy life, i wouldn't regret it if i died tomorrow.

68. The acoustics in our house are so good, that even with a moderate amount of noise, you can sit at the back of the house and hear someone unlocking the front door.

69. Whenever i actually stop to think about this number, i cannot help but giggle.

70. Acoustic have led to many a call of "Sara be quiet" when i've been singing in the study.

71. When counting in italian (or spanish), i always get confused between 6 and 7, and 60 and 70.

72. I love languages. Any corny pickup line sounds so romantic in italian.

73. If i have nothing better to do, i will watch new in other languages.

74. I'm going to bug Helena to teach me to speak croatian.

75. A family friend once told me that if you can speak another language you are worth as much as two people who can only speak one.

76. She can speak five languages.

77. We used to live at number 77. We now live at number 3. 77+3=80. 8+0=8. The number eight is the number of cosmic balance. I don't know what that has to do with anything.

78. I have a dictionary of symbols. It has come in handy many a time.

79. As much as i want my own vast collection of books, i lack the finance to fund such a venture. For the moment, i buy the books i can afford.

80.The next book i'm getting is "Quidditch Through the Ages", a Harry Potter textbook JK Rowling wrote with all proceeds going to charity. It's going to be a little more difficult to get "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" (same deal as the last one, but this one's out of print).

81. I don't take criticism very well. Unless it is constructive.

82. I like baking. The first time a made a pineapple upside-down cake (in a ring tin, you know, a bunt cake) that didn't break, i took a picture.

83. I'm not as good at cooking as i am at baking. At least, i'm more sure of myself when i'm baking.

84. When i'm sure of myself and i work with someone who's more sure of themselves, it makes me second-guess myself.

85. I enjoy studying physics because it has such a profound effect on my understanding of the universe.

86. Recently rediscovered love of microwave popcorn. Seriously, my brother and i got through a whole box today.

87. Do i have body issues? I don't know...

88. I don't like shaving my legs. There's a certain mystique about it, but it's a bit of a hassle for me.

89. Actually, talking on the phone is a hassle for me so i don't often call my beautician and make a booking to get my legs waxed. Consequently spend a good deal of the year with hairy legs.

90. Oh, a bit of advice: don't jump out of a moving vehicle unless you know what you're doing.

91. As strange as you think i am, i am stranger still...

92. Born and bred Catholic. At times i am religious in a Catholic sense. At times i'm religious in an inter-faith sense.

93. I have a strong sense of social justice. It kills me to see anyone in pain of any kind.

94. Seriously, i even have trouble insulting people. To just think that i have a hand in hurting someone tears my soul.

95. So i figure if i were a character in Harry Potter i'd be a light witch. There i go again with the Harry Potter...

96. The way i study maybe doesn't look very effective if you're watching me study, but it's what works for me. I've had trouble convincing my parents to just let me learn in my own way.

97. I think the next instrument i will learn will either be bass guitar (strange as i'm apparently already a bassist in a band), violin or banjo.

98. I'm on the one hand not a big meat person. I can't just eat a steak, it has to be smothered in sauce or mashed potato. My least favourite meat to eat is pork, not for any Babe or Charoltte's web reason, it's a flavour reason.

99. I did use to watch Get Smart. I wanted a shoephone!

100. If i get to this age and Australia's still part of the Commonwealth of Nations, then i'll be expecting a letter from the King/Queen of England.

101. Yay! A Palindrome! Most people'd look at you funny if you said that... Not me i'd get excited :)

102. I love love. It's just that simple. I can accept being in love even if whoever i'm in love with will never love me back.

103. Ok, i'll tell you why it was 103 and not just 100 or 101. *sigh* You're all going to roll your eyes at me... If you take the 0 out of it you get the number 13. Refer to number 13...

Fin

Creation of a Fantasy World

Days eventually come when I sit and do nothing. Well, not quite nothing, i live, i attempt to engage in activities; it never works. Then the walls start to melt.

Occasionally i'll float, just exist and then realise i haven't had a shower or eaten. Those days aren't good. I feel like i should be doing something. When i can't hold onto any thought for longer than half a second the walls melt again.

Curiously enough, when i think of the word 'daydream' i imagine green. Something leafy, almost jungle or rainforest, a little Disney magic thrown in? The curious part is that this in no way reflects any daydreaming i actually do.

I never did the glossy daydreaming. Mine were close to reality, borne from watching too much sci-fi, crime, drama and whatever i happen to have read over my lifetime. I do enjoy the daydream, or the daydream-while-awake-at-night, whichever. Better at the latter, rather than the former. (i know no one actually uses latter and former, but i like em)

Enough of my odd and disjointed thoughts for now. One day a PS may float into my mind and attach itself to this blog, but until then...

To Fret

Throw a pebble into a pool. Cliche, i know. To disturb such calm, to picture such a scene.

Do it anyway.

Watch as the waters fret. A ripple here, half a wave there.

What if the pool were not fretting? What if the pebble made no ripple as it were enveloped by the water?

The Physical Laws of Nature deny such an occurance. There must be a transfer of energy, something's got to give!

Yet imagine it were so. For in the deep and dark recesses of the mind, such a pool exists.

A calm person can absorb life's pebbles, occasionally a few boulders. The water of the mind, however, is turbulent. Eddies form and unform, mist sprays up and up and up. It takes a disposition few can reach, to tame these wild waves; to calm a wild sea.

I know of few who have felt such calm. I know of few times we have absorbed boulders.

So do not fret, my turbulent friend. Revel in your ferocity. And when the day comes, be at peace.