sea shells and the universe, among other things

i used to be so arty

2010-09-02T04:40:00.000-07:00

now i have a full time job. i feel like i am getting more hard arsed, more eat-work-sleep just fit in, do they things they tell ya n whatever. i dunno, i see my friends and family less, i dont see my lover at all but i talk to her every day. i dunno. i dont even feel worried, its just a change i know i would have hated to see in myself, and i guess i also do hope i spin out and have amazing adventures and break out of all these structures and stuff. but also. i'm fairly happy here, eating, dworking, sleeping, playing when i can, loving when i do, i think the work just takes up so much of my head i can't undo it. i dunno, ha, what a train of thought. trains gunna crash into a pillow. X g'nite cyberspace

learning out loud

2009-10-05T01:46:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I wish I didn’t learn quite so out loud, with tear streaked face and an obvious ache. But when it comes down to it I am also glad that It still messes me, that im not always in control. I don’t want to be able to answer everything I don’t want to be able to box all my experiences without a bit of trouble. It feels more realistic to me to not have the answers. On the odd occasion I grin at the floundering.

patch

2009-10-05T01:16:00.000-07:00

This morning I wake up smeared across our suburbs, saliva and hands in each others pockets, our pictures on each others walls, a crick neck from this mess of people and bedding. I stumble morningly into your housemates and we share that awkward moment of well meaning and not quite having our people antenna’s on yet. Coffee on the pavement and shoes on. Awake is what they call it but I am fog yawning and stretching. We congregate in lumps of shared coffee and that gentle unsurity about what it means to be who we are and just how to do it.
Later it is sharing food and giggling trying to do headstands on the train, It is chalk and spraypaint and running, it is epic bike rides and rooftop conversations.
And occasionally it is bleeding lips and faces smeared with sadness, arms like thin jumpers wrapped round each other to try and contain a whale of ache. It is jittering limbs and attempts to distract.
Now it is reflection and words for the page and the inevitable rolls out ‘thank you, thank you so much for not letting me go just yet’

hung up on ok

2009-10-05T01:12:00.000-07:00

At 5:30pm ‘c-u-lunk’ we both hung up. I heard you and then followed suit. What preceded was a non-fussed exchange of ‘see-ya’ and ‘bye’. The kind that is confident in its lack of longevity despite any plans to the otherwise. We mentioned some ribbons of time, that could end in several places: my house, your house, breakfast, dinner, writing essays together.
I don’t know if either of us will brave the rain, will decide that we can study together, despite quite firmly confirmed knowledge that we can’t. I revel in the not knowing, the concept expands and I apply it to everything I can think of, because I don’t really know anything. There is an assumption that I will get up and pee soon, but it could be wrong, there is an assumption that I will finish my degree and be a nurse next year, but really, who knows, maybe I will instead decide to live in a coal power station with my friends, or travel around with a tape recorder and a book and a camera. Or fall asleep and never ever wake up again.
The creeping possibilities need to stay about I think, if I am to remain un-ashen in my cheeks and the trills of thoughts speeding through my circuitry. It’s a reason I need these phone times. These splattering shakes of thought and possibility, never really needing to be coupled with plans, but more as reminders and inspirers, as jumpstarts for idea’s that will curve through like water eroding rock. That will ensure the rock does not win me over, till I am under it [Capitalist. Consumerist. Disconnected. Undone. Unfun.]

rrramble

2009-06-07T18:32:00.000-07:00

Some days everything leaves,
and you have to go look for all the answers again
Start off with a friends jumper, a bike and a pen

Looking into the sky, tree’s crowd over my eyes
My back flat on the leaves
Lips mouth a million questions,
all the world does is move the sun over a little
Tells me
‘your cold, go home’
People walk their dogs by,
Tired and chattering
There are no answers apparently
Hidden in the tree’s in Sydney park
In the period between 2:45 and 4:30.

Just a confused girl
With some lonely obsession
Breaking twigs and counting clouds
Deciding whether to get along with herself.
And which way to go next.

Home reaches out
With pots and veggies and the rumble of friends.

Perhaps it will be back tomorrow.

post Surgery post

2009-04-09T01:03:00.000-07:00

It all seems like a funny game, I keep grinning as I get into the little white gown that ties at the back, laughing at the splashes of flesh shooting out through gaps in hospital gowns and curtains, mum says, ‘now this is the point where you become a patient, not a student nurse’. i feel like i know what’s going on, what all the medical staff are doing and why, it just feels like another hospital experience, where i am just an observer, and don’t expect anything to go wrong.
Mum and I have a good chat, we talk about assertivness and my fears about nursing, and I tell her my newest theory about myself. She is caring and lovely and doesn’t seem to mind talking all about me, yet again. we laugh at how hairy I look against the expanse of white sheets.

When the theatre nurse comes in she repeat herself a bit and I wonder how she is, she says, ‘we are going to theatre now’ I say ok, grinning, mum asks how long they think I’ll be, the nurse rekons only half an hour. As they wheel me into theatre we pass a sign that says you must get all gowned up past this point, I feel excited, I can’t help grinning as they wheel me to the waiting bay for Operating Room #3. they leave me there and say they will go look for the Dr, I sing to myself and watch the OR room, look at all the equiptment around me, and watch an asshole of a Dr yelling at my theatre nurse, she is crying and several other nurses comfort her, which I think is nice. I am annoyed about the Dr. I drift off but try to be awake when anyone comes in. They come in later to tell me the Dr forgot daylight savings, he is an hour late, I am amused. My Nurse has stopped crying and comes in to chat to me, I ask questions and she is happy to explain some of the equiptment and things to me, later I am glad to have had the extra time to chat to her before we go in.
People seem fascinated by my growth, some ask questions like ‘why did you let it get that big?’ I explain politely but think they should get some tact. (in my nursing pracs I have noticed that there is a general increase in sensitivity among nurses with younger patients and especially with body image stuff).
The aneasethtist comes in, looks at my finger, puts a drip in my right arm, hooked up to antibiotics, he tells me I will have a general anesthetic, i was supposed to have a local and he says he thinks general would be better, he will talk to the surgeon.
he leaves, my arm feels weird and I need to pee, I keep moving my arm to try and get it comfortable.
When the surgeon gets there it is all rush, they take me in to the operating room, he tells me I will have a general anaesthetic. i am kinda happy about this because i am starting to get anxious and not sure If I could handle watching it, or the pain. i get onto the operating table, and the nurse gets a warmed blanket for me (this is nice, when I come out my body shakes like anything when I get up, I am quite cold but don’t notice.)
I am glad she is there, she touches my arm and helps me get sorted for the anaesthetist. The anaesthetist tells me to put my chin up and smile, i am already smiling because I am happy and nervous about being operated on, he says ‘this will hurt’ and ‘keep smiling’ and I do. Then I don’t know what happens… my thumb is cut, stitched up, the bag of fluid I started with must have finished as I have a different one when I wake up, hartmanns, maybe because I lost blood, and my body is on a different bed, although I didn’t help that happen.
I wake up in recovery an hour or two later, laughing and thrashing, and pulling off my mask, I hear the nurse saying ‘you’re a happy one aren’t you?’ and ‘I think we’ll keep that on’ tightening the mask. When I stop giggling I start asking questions, ‘whats that?’ ‘what my blood pressure?’ the nurse answers me, asks about my pain and gives me some phenergen, and tells me to stay still she says after my next set of obs I can go through to day stay recovery. I don’t remember that she is the nurse that had me before the op for a long time. Back in recovery mum comes in, kisses me and informs me I look pale. After iv drunk and eaten a bit she takes me to the toilet on my slow funny legs, with my body shaking vigerously without my recognition of being cold at all. Mum and I giggle as I do a huge pee, and then we just hang around, get stuff sorted and go home. Where I crash a bit.

I wish I knew what happened, more about the operation, it is so funny imagine the roll that you do for an unconscious patient being don’t on me, and me havigg no memory, I want to know how the surgery went, and if they knocked me out partially because they didn’t want me asking questions…
The anaesthetist came to see me and asked how I was, when I said sore he said he wasn’t surprised as I was ‘heavily anaesthatised’ and still moving my arm :)

2008-11-28T21:39:00.001-08:00

a day of dream

2008-11-23T05:59:00.000-08:00

I dreamt of twinkling green eyes
And a contagious smile
A loud secret

And I awoke
Still waiting to hear that laugh
And grasp a reaching hand

To rush over the sand and
Splash tumble aching
Into the water

Into the fast-heart-beat
beautiful chaos
Of it all

But the light and a room
pushed their way into my eyes
and my limbs started to twitch
in a getting up kind of way

and I rolled into a list of
obligations I had constructed

but every thought-stop
left me back

waiting for those eyes to smile at me again
for one last chance
to frolic-stumble through lessons
I have already learnt

i get grumpy and i dont know why

2008-11-17T18:06:00.000-08:00

yesterday i came home grumpy it seems, but i didn't feel grumpy, i felt got at, and so did my little bro and mum, they felt got at by me and i felt got at by them, and i can't figure out why.
We all tend to jibe each other, and so when people are fragile this can seem a bit more harsh, but i don't know why i felt fragile, or if they did, they both seemed to think i was being attacking and confrontational, and in a way i was, because i felt attacked i was trying to, i dunno, assert myself and my view of the situation, which was that they were getting at me... it was all tiny things, when i say attack, i only mean like a little accusatory statement, but i just wanted to figure out why.
I think perhaps i get a bit paranoid, and so i have a propensity to think people are trying to get at me when they are not, and it does tend to happen in my family because they are all very smart, and despite the fact that we are ridiculously comfortable together i know that i am kind of the 'flakey hippy' who dosen't wash enough, and isn't very logical, and people tend to wonder how i make it through life, because i do things my own rather unique, hard to understand little way. so yea, perhaps it was a bit of that, i a bit of having a tired crabby day.
I think i could have improved the situation by just saying 'hey, i feel really got at' or something or taking a bit of time out, thinking about it and coming back.
I think i could have improved yesterday by also asking this kid that i don't really know but don't really like how he was because he seemed distressed. By trying to figure out why i felt so lazy about cycling and just whinged in my head to myself about finding it difficult. and being more honest and trying to sort out what was going on with fam.

haha, and i better go study do that i don't have to put 'stdy more' on todays lists of things to be done better. :P

not just for lovers

2008-11-17T17:39:00.000-08:00

remember... people?

2008-11-17T16:46:00.000-08:00

talking to a friend i remembered. people!
they are everything, they are what its all about, the whole world.
people are the things that can be happy/sad/angry, they are the things that can change it, and i have been insulating myself from them in a way...
whatever i think, whatever great theories i come up with, it dosen't matter unless i'v got people, unless i talk to them. relationships are the biggest research project in ones life. experimenting with different influences, forms of friendship, ways of relating to each other, and ways of breaking down the gap of not yet knowing someone.
I think i kinda forgot to suss people out, to try to relate to them, all of them, to try and break down my judgements, and instead i just settled into a cosy nest of lovelies. I love my family and my friends, and they still challenge me, but there is this whole world of people that i don't understand at all, i get so suss of them because they are different, because they do things i think are dodgy, and i do things that i assume they think are dodgy, i find all the time that i am relating through this barrier of 'you-probably-won't-agree-with-me' which perhaps is sometimes true, but is also perhaps paternalistic and leaves me feeling... false? i dunno quite what it is, i think it's dodgy tho, and the result of being to judgemental. something i need to work on.
yup yup...
i love remembering/learning things like that.

night-plod-voice-share-friend

2008-11-06T20:14:00.001-08:00

plod plod plod
if it was pitch that would be the only thing existing of me.
my wobbling pale flesh haphazardly shrouded in a small cape would be hidden. and not exist.
It is not pitch however, & i am wobble-plod, fabric-clutching my way up the street with a friend (and we are taking turns with out voices)
as we go i experiment & the wind plays along, a gust, a breast here, a thigh, a buttock there. and then for a spektator or temperature i rewrap.

We gigle at my pale flesh in this context, & i think about freedom & fear & spaces & friends
& we talk about things that are serious and true & not packagable, answerable or beautiful.
this is one of my barest friends, for whom no detail is embarass edited.

yup yup yup

2008-11-05T00:25:00.000-08:00

midnight thought

2008-11-05T00:12:00.000-08:00

Lets try and make something beautiful, to pretend that it is worth it, the time we expend trawling these hopeless streets, lets hold each other, and chalk happy messages to commuters that are exhausted in ways that none of us understand.

Lets try not to feel the devestation in the air, carbon monoxide, tension, and bright lights defining you as nothing more then a consumer. Lets smile at all our little enemies, try to love people we don’t know,

try to breathe slowly,

try to think.

Lets let go of 5 things we define as failures, lets look at the sky, and dream, forget about the bank balance and imagine that things could change

Imagine what would happen if we all woke up tomorrow and decided we were going to stop climate change, imagine if we were honest with everyone we talk to for a whole day.

Lets say all the things were too embarrassed to say, sprout all the idea’s we think noone will believe in, let go of one fear that stops us doing things, and to make it all work, lets commit to being nice, to taking time, trying to understand people rather then just condemning them as soon as the say something we disagree with.

And in the fine words of kimya dawson 'remember that I love you.'

that mushy love stuff

2008-10-22T06:18:00.000-07:00

i just wanted to mention that i love a whole bunch of people. alot. so much i get all full of it and sometimes i just grin and hug myself, or any innocent bystander to my internal wonder at the loveliness of some of these flesh breath beings. i am hugely lucky in this. i think its the thing that stops me from being alot worse off. mmm so much, heres to spreading the mush, like fertiliser....

for the writing respository...

2008-10-22T06:09:00.000-07:00

as kids we were bound by an understanding & allegience to the same radio station
picked pockets of respect thrown like paintbombs,
we played in the colours,
& hoped for the best, & dealt with the worst,
a rubber band of versatile warriors, all fighting little battles in our heads, and smiling at each other, and holding hands, and telling everyone we were ok, to convince ourselves it's true.
& when the tears like beached whales slipped out and traversed their facial landscape tradjectory we hugged out the air and whispered about the secrets that would make everything better.

list to not forget

2008-10-20T02:37:00.000-07:00

i want to make a list of things i want to do...
honestycommunication zine
zine about violence
(write about safesharkthing)
learn about non-violent communication
push-ups
get stronger
get fitter
draw, paint
swim
run
learn french
learn an indigenous 'australian' language
learn to play guitar and sing better ( learn to play ciel en sauce -dionysos and kimya stuff + bob dylan& ole catty stevens)
make stuff for my friendels
make patches and clothes
talk/think /read about alternative health care systems
talk/think /read about different ways our communities can function
learn about how things change
change things
listen to more music
make more music
get to know my body better..
finish my degree and get good at nursing
learn to cook better
learn to garden
learn some skills like hooking up solar panels and fixing my bike.
challenge my ego more
watch myself and get better at being honest with myself about myself.
find ways to contribute to the worldy thingo
experiment with communication and friendship
spend time with people but don't be stale
challenge myself some
write more
learn some gymnastics
learn to meditate
read more poetry
read novels, read peoples idea's about the world.
stop convincing myself i can't do things! and that i shouldn't try!!
jump more
sleep outside more
learn to have conversations slowly, including silences, and with time to think... less pressured
learn to give
experiment with awareness
learn to loose self a bit... loose acute awareness of surrounds
learn to meditate
cook for people i love.
hang out with kids, animals, and people
find out how people deal with anger
find ways of encouraging people to take care of themselves that are subtle and not token or superficial
watch the films people have told me to watch for long time
get articulate like
Dance dAnce daNce danCe dancE!

Yea!

2008-10-20T02:03:00.000-07:00

we will hug until

2008-10-11T06:44:00.000-07:00

when my friends are sad...

2008-10-11T04:07:00.000-07:00

sometimes i don't know 'how to be' around my friends when they are so sad. I feel like a lost ship in a dark night trying desperately not to crash into rocks i can't see. I have been happy for ages now, and i can remember things like how fragile a mind is, and how the slightest little thing can signify all this strange symbolism and stuff, or at least it did for me. When i think about the people who supported me, i don't know how they did it, being so patient and caring, always there when i needed to bitch n whinge n cry. I feel like sometimes i don't know how to be there for other people, especially when they can't tell me, sometimes i feel like i miss out all these things i should be doing, and like its really not as hard as i think. i know that its just about caring and loving someone... but somehow i still have trouble finding the words to say, thinking of things to do, knowing when to just listen and when to say that maybe you need some help. Minds are such impenetrable and powerful things. When i was younger i thought i was good at being around people who were quite sad or disliked themselves, and i wanted to become a nurse or a psych so i could get the skills to do it all the time, now i'v changed and i don't think a degree can give you people skills, and i don't feel like i'm any better at being there for my friends when they are really down, and when they don't seem to be coming back up. I am studying mental health nursing, it gives me labels for certain types of illnesses, (although these are sometimes just constructs, behavior considered unacceptable by society) and it gives an insight into a system that to me seems an awfully bizarre way to try and help someone who is fragile or unwell, a system we inherited from the days before people experiencing mental illness had rights, that has been gradually modified as we progress. Surely such a system is never going to be adequate, not until it is looked at properly and reformed based on evidence and caring...
I have been looking at some radical mental health sites such as the icarus project and am wanting to look more into such things, there are lots of great zines that i want to look at and conversations that i want to have about how to care for our friends. Here are some of the links;
http://www.radpsynet.org/
http://www.successfulschizophrenia.org/
http://theicarusproject.net/
http://sydneyicarus.wordpress.com/
http://www.rockdovecollective.org/
http://www.freedom-center.org/
yea, i don't know what this post is trying to achieve, its just something i'v been thinking about. All my love...

Cooper Pedy Roo

2008-10-07T19:04:00.000-07:00

Coober Pedy

2008-10-07T15:43:00.000-07:00

Strange town, full of secrets, driving into Coober Pedy through land broken up by mining i thought i'd hate the place, and disagree with the people in it, and probably find them a bit scary, but as we drove into the town i looked around at it and became fascinated, i don't quite know why, it is a desert town, the edges of which stretch out into harsh hot dirt riddled with mining holes and shafts. The main street is tourist oriented with opal shops and aboriginal art galleries, while the people who made the art lay in the only shade available on the street. All the people working in the shops were white. The people i was travelling with didn't like it and wanted to leave as soon as we got there, i really wanted to stay, and as we were leaving the bus got a flat, which meant that we got to stay from a few hours. It was wonderfully hot, just walking from the bus into town (maybe 250m) we were covered in sweat.
I visited the underground church which was through this little forboding door with a cross on it, and was so silent that i could only whisper. My skin was almost tingling, the pressure was different as well i think, i just sat there and felt the place and wondered about what had happened there.
As i went for a wander about the town i picked my way between buildings as the ground was so hot and my boots were starting to give me blisters, i stopped in the shade of buildings for a break as i went. One place i stopped at seemed pretty empty despite an enthusiastic sign proclaiming another opal shop, i wandered up to this big warehouse building and opened the door, inside i found a building in the middle of renovations and a very friendly couple who chatted to me and showed me their 'babies' little kangaroo's who had been rescued when their mothers had been killed on the road, they let me hold the tiny kangaroo who's eyes were hardly open and talked to me about the town. When i mentioned i was doing nursing they told me their daughter was also a nurse and worked at the aboriginal health centre down the road, they offered to call and see if there were jobs.
This is a bit random but the place just had some substance, and meant something that i can't articulate. I really want to go back.

dumpsta!

2008-10-06T02:50:00.000-07:00

2008-10-06T02:26:00.000-07:00

a pretty basic thought i wanted to share

2008-10-05T23:24:00.000-07:00

I am full of strawberries and milk and all the cushy substances that this place affords me, i am wearing clean clothes, i slept in a bed, in a house, and i am checking my email.

I tend to get culture shock coming back to the city when i have been somewhere different.
because i guess it makes less sense, it seems so false to me, all this advertising, waste and unfamiliarity, all these people crammed into all these boxes surrounded by junk that when you look at it makes no sense, stuff that we don't need.

I feel like it is all shoved in front of our eyes so that we stay floppy and tired, working our arse's off to continue this cycle of wanting more. And all the while hiding from what we are actually doing, what we are complicit in or even actively support, the genocide of "australia's" first peoples, the destruction of old growth forests and a climate in which we can live, the genetic messing of our food supplies which will contaminate crops grown anywhere near those that have been messed with, the corporate power that exists and the way decisions are made by those with no accountability transparency or proximity to whats going on.

i have so much, i have more than i need, and i am trying to figure out how to change this strange and fucked up way of things being. more on this later perhaps...

old

2008-09-18T07:14:00.000-07:00

magazines sell us repulsive plastic images of what we could be, something to strive for. how much psychology do they use in convincing us that we aren't good enough i wonder? playing to our insecurities, there are so many things in this perverse system that mean so little in such a huge way, so broken and convincing and overpowering.
i don't understand how i live, what my part is in this mess, i wish to retire, to let go of all the ropes i hold and freefall nude, colourful, & uninhibited, a spectacle for all the groundwellers, a firework, a provocative picture of what could be.
FEAR keeps us in line, fear of what we could be, fear of what were not, fear of where we could be going and the control that we don't have, it is so stifling, crushing. everything back in it's box. i am so controlled, practically a robot. iwant to be colourful and free and not afraid.

lets

2008-09-14T07:57:00.000-07:00

lets wear gumboots filled with water, and sit in puddles,
lets stand in the rain at night shaking and watching car lights speed by with rain filling our faces,
lets sit in cold parks at night & eat ice-cream & talk about life,
lets write poetry on the walls and dress like sunflowers,
lets watch the last of the sunset and pretend were not getting cold,
lets do things on a whim,
lets catch a train in circles,
lets hypothesise,
lets think too much and get nervous and laugh, lets share music & films & books & poetry,
lets stay up and fall asleep at school,
lets be idealistic,
lets hope,
lets listen to the bush at night,
lets smile at everyone,
lets dance!

i smell... and i look like an echidna

2008-09-14T07:48:00.000-07:00

i am learning to play the guitar, its super-fun. my little bro got a double bass for his birthday, my dad is a guitar teacher and our house is always full of various instruments and noises. My dad and bro are both great at music and very lovely to me, they teach me things and let me play with their instruments and record stuff. i miss them heaps. i am learning a kimya dawson song, she is great, i saw her this year and yea, she's wonderful.

a day i had a while back

2008-09-14T00:17:00.000-07:00

Today.

Kayaking, muscles exerting their presence, pitting pride against the elements

And humanity against corporate greed

Sun. Sea. Exercise. Feeling human again.

Police.

Orders.

Confusion. (coal ship approaching.)

amongst police and protesters,

No way out. (internal panic.)

Horn blasts, chants raise, palms resound on plastic, orders fly, propellers& motors scream

Fear (looking to get out)

Blocked by boat, change of orders, muscles jar, stomach twists,

Confusion.

Communication. Connection.

Safety.

Relief.

Now.

Overdosed on radiohead and sent myself into another world,

Pure sound and choreography,

The noise speeds along its intricate pathway, perfectly etched into my mind.

My muscles flexed and extended catching in with the game,

body lets go and the music carries it,

twisting and turning, jump, kick,

I close my eyes, and float away.

This is all there is.

Earlier.

I read your email

As I replied, my eyes, still salty from the sea

Blinked and wet my face with sheets of tears.

I sobbed for an hour writing back.

I tried to give it my honesty.

My perception

My perceived lack of structure in the world

My fear

Will I send it?...

nope.

Soon.

Sunburnt exhausted body curled unconscious on the bed.

Mind far away.

Twitch of hand.

Small noise of sleep.

Oblivion.

imprisoned by your mind

2008-08-28T04:37:00.000-07:00

right, so i read my articulate little brothers funny blog and thought i'd better add another embarassing attempt at wit and brilliance to my own... this is a bit of a description of my experience of mental health prac ( i'm a student nurse)

They say not to touch you ‘they are dangerous’ and I think, ‘I’d be violent to if noone ever held me, loved me, talked to me, respected me, if noone ever looked me in the eye’.

It breaks my heart the lack of love in this ward, we are like wardens, we wear duress alarms, carry the keys, control the food and cigarettes, and have an aggression response team on call 24/7. They practice 5 point holds and sedation.

Some of you won’t leave this place, some of you have been bounced in here from gaols, or by police, and now you are left at the mercy of the staff, social workers, nurses, psychiatrists, they have an order on you, the mental health act, you are confined, condemned, concealed from the public.

I wonder how it feels for you because I know that I am relieved to leave.

I am breezing into your life for two weeks, yet another peering student in a long line of sightsee’ers, achieving set objectives, psychopathologising you as you speak, do you know? you still talk to me, still allow me to listen to your tales, (those of you who still speak) You boast or mumble or grunt, some of you from a reality quite different from mine, but one I am willing to contemplate, and to discuss. I feel like a traitor listening to you and chatting and then going off to pathologise the things you tell me with such pride.

My heart hurts when I see you smile, when we can laugh at something, when you seem ok.

My heart hurts because I cannot hug you and yet I will run off to my friends to debrief and be held.

I hurt because I don’t know if I could be a nurse here, because I don’t know if I’d still feel this in five years.

one ending is skimping

2008-06-10T02:47:00.000-07:00

So I keep falling out of the world of clocks… and into this other place, which is timeless and ever interesting, full of these jumping twisting alleyways which will take you anywhere you could imagine, to places you wish you were or had been, to parallel universes.

And you can travel by music, it contemplates lyrics and replays bits of your life to you in the comfort of your frozen self, caught up in the tiny veins of a leaf, or the blue blue blue of the sky, or a smell in the air.

And it grasps you by the hand and pulls you racing down this alleyway or that at the speed of kids on bikes, and there is not time to realise that you have missed your stop or an appointment, or the job interview that was going to change your life, but we smile and say sorry, and change tense erratically to help you believe we are not of sound mind and forget I ever met you.

Because the truth is the chance of a lifetime is not what i’m looking for. not at all.

I am looking for the track that ants follow, the secret to how flowers smell, for people who’s souls shine out through their eyes.

I am looking for adventures and dullness and anxiety and love.

I am looking for all the words of my book, for a skateboard and some bruises. For the contents of my rucksack, for a hand to hold for a month or two, and a beach to camp on for life.

And so.

(1)

Now you know. That I might not be telling what you would consider the truth, because I don’t think truth is what you say It is. And I don’t feel like all this is real, and I don’t believe it’s all there is.

I think there is life outside of our box of normal

And I am going to chase it .. on a whim.

(or; 2.)

I am sorry if I promised you something else, if you thought that we were on the same page. Because I have slipped of the page… and out of the book… and into the wind and the air and cold nights And I am going to learn all they have to teach me…

And maybe one day I will come back and tell you.

And maybe one day you will say I told you so.

And maybe we will never see each other again.

here we go...

2008-05-29T21:08:00.000-07:00

yes yes, yet another person has flipped over belly up like a beached whale and given over to cyberspace.
what a depressing start.
but there you have it, this human like so many others has decided that it's idea's and thoughts and rants need a place to go, a place where others may stumble upon them and form opinions or find fault or just think gee, what a waste of time!
well yes, if you are trawling through blogs with names like 'seashells and the universe among other things' you are probably... almost definitely wasting your time, as am I.