At around six o' clock Sean and I were comfortably sipping the champagne he had bought to celebrate ' a day of advance ' as he put it and as he raised his glass.
" Do you want to try the " Dream Inducer ", he asked after we had been chatting for ten minutes or so.
" Thanks for the offer Sean but I think I'll wait 'till I see what it's effects are on other suckers first."
" Oh come on H. , one thing I do know about you is that you'll try anything. "
" And what would you suppose I would meditate on before I went to sleep? "
"Well anything. Danielle. A telephone call. A book. Another country.? "
" I like the way Danielle and me are, telephones scare the shit out of me , especially when I talk to myself, the book is not important and I'm just getting used to this country. "
" But you cast rune stones and you could use this in the same way. As advice or guidance."
" I could use another glass of champagne. "
He couldn't persuade me and at twenty to seven I left him with with a fresh bottle of champagne and a girl who had come to sit with us. Well, him actually.
I took the metro home.
I never know where to look on the subway. I lose myself in people and then they'll suddenly look up at me. At least on a train you can watch the houses flashing by or the countryside. I stood by the doors staring at my feet, hoping I wouldn't be too late for dinner. I don't mind letting most people down but to let Danielle down was painful.
I made it home on the dot of seven fifteen. " Not burnt, I hope."
" Not even started yet. We'll eat around quart fore nine. And then I thought we could go for a drink down the street if you like? "
" You seemed to have organized the whole evening. " She skipped over to me and her words poured like velvet honey in my ears.
" A quietly confidential celebration. "
" Don't you mean a quietly confident celebration? "
" I know what I mean..... You can help prepare the food. I know you won't refuse. "
" Oh really? "
" Yes really. You love me. " She said this as if it were some recent revelation. We rarely told each other that we loved each other and I thought that she may have thought that I had been taking her for granted somehow. Danielle put me to work cutting courgettes and carrots and shelling fresh peas.
" When you've finished that you can open some wine. And I bought a bottle of champagne for ' hoe zeg je dat' ?.... er, afters? "
" Yes, afters. James must have paid well. "
" He paid what he owed and a little bit extra because the exhibition went so well. "
All through the preparation I kept catching Danielle looking at me with an unworldly glaze in her eyes but I tried to pay it no heed. We laughingly sipped wine while the food was cooking and I couldn't help but notice that there was really something different about Danielle. She was her carefree and wild self but she seemed excited as though she were full of secrets that were dying to get out. Her positivity played off my cynicism and I wondered how we could be so good for each other? Actually I only knew that she was good for me. Then it hit me. This could be a fine farewell and I suddenly became concerned though tried to smile my way through my apprehension. We sat down , at last , to what amounted to a feast. The preparation had taken so long that we were on our second bottle of wine as Danielle filled our plates with spicy almost fluorescent vegetables each a sensation apart. I was starting to feel nervous and a little dizzy from the late afternoon champagne and the evenings' wine. I felt like I was loosing control, as though I had a question that had no answer and I would burst if none were given. Danielle looked at me before we began to enjoy the meal as if she wanted to pray or give thanks or something. She stared hard at me and then broke into a smile and raised her glass.
" To.. " she searched the ceiling for inspiration and then laughed..." everything. " It amused her very much so I smiled too, but missed the joke. The food was like a new adventure of indescribable tastes. Incomparable. We were silent for quite some time, savouring.
For the first time with Danielle the silence made me more nervous and I finally broke.
" I can't believe that you went to all this trouble just because an exhibition is finished. You were kind of weird this morning and you've certainly been a bit weird this evening. " She knew I knew.
" I must say that I have felt quite strange the whole day, like everything has become clearer but nothing in particular has changed. Nothing in fact. I just feel as though it has. "
I thought for a moment that she didn't know how to explain in detail in English but 99% of the Dutch of her age had a very good understanding of the language. "It's just I had this really vivid dream last night and it has stayed with me the whole day. " When she said the word dream I felt faint and shifted in my chair trying to make myself more comfortable but only succeeded in spilling my wine on my trousers. " I'm not really sure if I should say anything about it because I can't really explain the connection between what I dreamed and the way I feel. "
" And how do you feel? "
" Well..eh.. kind of married. " That wiped the forced grin off of my face. " I'll have to tell you the dream or you will have no chance of understanding what I mean. " I suddenly became much more sober. And so it was that for the second time that day a dream was revelled.
AND THE DREAM WAS TOMORROW OR THE NEXT DAY !!!!!!
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
End of 'Old news'.
As I didn't know where things were going to lead I, didn't know what I should follow. I decided that intuition was the best policy, so I picked up a newspaper to spend some time with the problems of a personal nature, politicians, the general public, the weather and belief. I was neither surprised nor disappointed by any of them. And after a half an hour of commiserating with the outside world I looked up at the bar keeper who was talking to a barfly of about 60. The bar keeper was a charicature of somebody famous who made their living doing charicatures of famous people. I seldom laugh out loud and and never previously had I spontaneously started giggling for no reason but it overcame me then. I picked up the newspaper and pointed to nothing in particular to excuse my private outburst. The barman gave me a nod. It was time to go. I stood up and took a quick glance below. All the fly buttons were buttoned up. It was safe to go back to the unpredictable streets. What happened after that is too weird to go into!!!!!
D and H. ( Chapter Three. ) ( Part one.)
The people Sean met were ' Dream Scientists ' , he informed me later in the car on the way back. I hadn't hung around to find out. I went to look at the town but ended up sitting outside a cafe for three hours listening to two old men. It went something like this:
" She had gold claws tipped with sharp cut diamonds, lifeless eyes waiting for heaven, and a beauty ravaged by past conquests. "
" One a month for forty years they say in her land."
" If the truth be known I admired her habit of slow diving at just the right time in rhythm with the mood of the moment. If we had seen then what we see now things would all be different. And for the better! But it's too late now unfortunately. At least we sleep real sleep now that we know. "
" My brother lies upon the rocks. "
" I understand. "
" I pass no judgement. "
"But many do judge and falsely accuse. Time is a trial, I can't deny. Too heavy to hurry. Three days ago I met a man who I saw standing staring in a shop window. He stared at something for an hour and for an hour I watched him in the pouring rain. Eventually I went over to him and asked him what he was looking at. He pointed to a very expensive looking watch and said, " I've thought my whole life that time is money but now it doesn't add up. I wanted to buy that watch but the more I looked at it the more time became ridiculous to me. I don't know where I went wrong but I have no real need of a watch. Nobody does." " A happy man I thought. Reminded me of tangled trip tunes."
" What time is love?"
" Exactly. "
" The secret of his success ; he got intense. "
" Many ways to succeed. I knew a man, personally, who could showboat and win. Effortless grace that claimed good fortune. Nothing could touch him. "
" Was he a happy man. "
" I believe he believed he was a happy man. "
" Hardly the same thing though. "
" I wouldn't know.."
" Oh no, of course , I'd heard........"
Then they stopped talking gibberish and burst into hysterical laughter. Jesus, I thought I was tripping.The whole afternoon was a ball and I was getting paid for it. ( I hoped. )
LIKE A FOOL I GIVE YOU CANDY.
AND I STEAL !!!!!!!!!!
" She had gold claws tipped with sharp cut diamonds, lifeless eyes waiting for heaven, and a beauty ravaged by past conquests. "
" One a month for forty years they say in her land."
" If the truth be known I admired her habit of slow diving at just the right time in rhythm with the mood of the moment. If we had seen then what we see now things would all be different. And for the better! But it's too late now unfortunately. At least we sleep real sleep now that we know. "
" My brother lies upon the rocks. "
" I understand. "
" I pass no judgement. "
"But many do judge and falsely accuse. Time is a trial, I can't deny. Too heavy to hurry. Three days ago I met a man who I saw standing staring in a shop window. He stared at something for an hour and for an hour I watched him in the pouring rain. Eventually I went over to him and asked him what he was looking at. He pointed to a very expensive looking watch and said, " I've thought my whole life that time is money but now it doesn't add up. I wanted to buy that watch but the more I looked at it the more time became ridiculous to me. I don't know where I went wrong but I have no real need of a watch. Nobody does." " A happy man I thought. Reminded me of tangled trip tunes."
" What time is love?"
" Exactly. "
" The secret of his success ; he got intense. "
" Many ways to succeed. I knew a man, personally, who could showboat and win. Effortless grace that claimed good fortune. Nothing could touch him. "
" Was he a happy man. "
" I believe he believed he was a happy man. "
" Hardly the same thing though. "
" I wouldn't know.."
" Oh no, of course , I'd heard........"
Then they stopped talking gibberish and burst into hysterical laughter. Jesus, I thought I was tripping.The whole afternoon was a ball and I was getting paid for it. ( I hoped. )
LIKE A FOOL I GIVE YOU CANDY.
AND I STEAL !!!!!!!!!!
D and H. Chapter Two.
Danielle owned an art gallery. It sounds impressive but it was actually a very low budget affair. She worked so hard to make it a success. She did everything from the books to the cleaning. She loved it. It was her reason for living. Sometimes she was poor and other times she was well off but she couldn't of cared less either way. Money was not the object of her passion. Mostly she was helping out friends and acquaintances, but then again she had quite a clique of friends. Hangers-on were also welcome. I met her at a party at the gallery which had been open a year or something. I was the friend of a friend.
She stood out in misty blue satin. At first, at a distance at least, it seemed she had an aura that everyone was afraid of and yet at the same time warmly drawn to. Enchanting. Wild dyed red hair, milk skin, bright brown eyes hinting madness. She swore she knew me from somewhere but couldn't place me though she was wrong. She held my arm lightly as we spoke for the first time as though it was the most natural of things to do. She kissed my cheek softly when I left , as if to say " I do know you.".
After a month we were seeing each other as good friends once or twice a week and six months later we became lovers.
She wore colours then. She unconsciously wore more black, grey and white as time wore on. But always deep blood red lipstick. I think we only had one thing in common then. We both thought that life was a joke.
THE JOKE WAS ON US . !
( Part 3 tomorrow. )
She stood out in misty blue satin. At first, at a distance at least, it seemed she had an aura that everyone was afraid of and yet at the same time warmly drawn to. Enchanting. Wild dyed red hair, milk skin, bright brown eyes hinting madness. She swore she knew me from somewhere but couldn't place me though she was wrong. She held my arm lightly as we spoke for the first time as though it was the most natural of things to do. She kissed my cheek softly when I left , as if to say " I do know you.".
After a month we were seeing each other as good friends once or twice a week and six months later we became lovers.
She wore colours then. She unconsciously wore more black, grey and white as time wore on. But always deep blood red lipstick. I think we only had one thing in common then. We both thought that life was a joke.
THE JOKE WAS ON US . !
( Part 3 tomorrow. )
Monday, October 30, 2006
D and H. Chapter One.
I sat up in bed smoking a cigarette watching her as she sat in front of the mirror making herself up. Actually she just sat there studying her image. Danielle worried about her looks but there was no need. She was thirty two but still looked twenty. Unlike me. My damned face fell apart on the stroke of thirty leaving me looking forty.
We'd been in bed for two days too broke and uninspired to go out but now she had to go to work. Danielle sat and stared for a full fifteen minutes before attacking the mass of perfectly tangled hair.
The phone rang. It was Sean.
Sean always phoned at the right time. Always after you had showered or after you had made love or just after you had woken. It was uncanny and a little unnerving as though he could watch your every move. I liked Sean. He was sure of who he was and seemed to know who and what everybody else was without having to scratch beneath the surface. This man was a breath of fresh air to me with his high cheek bones and long slender legs and a grace of movement that was pure harmony. He was enormously attractive to women which made me slightly green.
" Are you straight "?
" The whole weekend already, why "?
" I need a driver. "
" Today "?
" Yes, interested "?
" Your wish is my command. "
"Broke , right "?
" Right. "
" Get a job H."
" You just gave me one."
" Okay , my place at midday.
"You got it." There was a short pause and then he said softly , "Is Danielle with you ?"
"Physically yes."
"You're a bum H, why can't you do the right thing?" Before I got a chance to defend myself he rang off. He liked Danielle very much and I don't think either of us could figure out why she was with me. He seemed much more her style. Sean didn't think that I treated her right, but Christ she was a big girl and didn't depend on me for anything.
" Who was it?" , asked Danielle as she came out of the bathroom buttoning her blouse.
" Sean."
" Oh Sean", she said as if she were melting, " how is he?"
" Sounds fine. I have to drive him somewhere this afternoon."
" Oh well, it gets you out of the house I suppose. There's an empty page in the other room."
" This evening , I promise."
"Not this evening, I want to cook for us tonight." This was a real stunner. We never arranged to eat , at leased not at home. If it happened then it happened but 'dinner time'? No way! I tried to look pleasantly surprised but I probably just looked puzzled. "What's the occasion?"
"Oh just that James' exibition ends today and he's now going to finally pay me and I feel like ....well I don't know.... celebrating?
"Great", was all I could say. I was in shock because if we ever had anything to celebrate we always went out. And we made quite a few excuses to celebrate.
She smiled and left.
I got out of bed and looked in the mirror. Christ !
I was on time for my meeting with Sean. He seemed very exited when he opened the door to his warehouse apartment.
"Hey, how ya doin' H?"
"Good, and you.?"
"Yeah, fine", he said with a smile. It was obviously a good day for him. He looked strangely beautiful when things were going good. "We're going north to see some people about the 'Dream Inducer'." This was one of his so-called inventions. I'd never figured out or asked how Sean made his money but it surely wasn't from his inventions. Mostly they were ridiculous if not amusing flights of fantasy. I was sure they were just a passtime but somebody was obviously interested. This new device was one of the more whacky ones. It was a scullcap rigged up to electro sensors which was in turn rigged up to a main ' computing unit'. You were meant to put the cap on a half an hour before going to sleep and meditate on a subject that you would like to dream about. Then you were to change the program, a kind of reversal program I suppose, and the device would somehow feed the information back to you as you slept. You should then be able to dream what you had meditated on for longer and more vividly than a normal dream, including all the things that you had imagined. I hadn't tried the device so I shouldn't have been so sceptical but it seemed a bit too far out for me . My comprehension of this sort of technology was beyond me. Somebody of importance would surely have been interested in such a device if it worked.?
Anyway, we set off at a very low pace to begin with through the narrow streets of the old part town where Sean lived but soon we were racing along the open road of the country.
" We've plenty of time and I would prefer to arrive in one piece", said Sean.
" It's your car", I said taking my foot off the accelerator pedal. He had a good looking car and couldn't even drive. It made him feel good to be driven around was his only explaination. We cruised along at a pace that seemed more reasonable to him, silent for a while, the sun beautiful on our faces. Sean broke the silence by saying," You were in one of my dreams last night."
Other peoples dreams bored me and I told him so.
" Do you not think that dreams have meaning?" he asked.
" Actually I do but I think a dream is only of significance to the dreamer."
" I think my dream was significant but to you , not me."
" Okay, let's have it."
" Well we were in a dim blue lit room which was very cool but you were burning up with a sort of fever. A phone rang in the room and you picked it up and listened for a while. Suddenly your face took on the look of someone who had just received the worse possible news. You put the phone down, stunned, and then you turned to me with such a look of black sorrow. I asked you who it was and you said "Me." I could feel your dread." He stared straight ahead, expressionless.
" Yeah right." I said with half a smile, trying to look calm. " As I said, the dream is only important to the dreamer." But inside I was freaked. I'd had a very similar dream the night before too but I was on holiday with Danielle and I got the call at the reception of the hotel and it was me on the other end of the line. But it was the real me. The truth of me. But for the life of me I can't remember what I told myself.
" Well if you had dreamed it , what would you have thought?" he said.
" That would have depended on what I said to myself I suppose."
" But if you could have seen how you looked when you put the phone down it could only signify something terrible." I didn't really want to go on with this.
" So if I had dreamed this what would be the point of trying to figure it out?"
" Well I see it as a warning , I'm afraid."
I wasn't taking him seriously. The dream didn't freak me but the fact that we had both dreamed much the same thing on the same night was something else. Sometimes he would get so serious, and then , as now, he would just smile , revert back to his old self and change the subject.
" I'm giving a party in a couple of weeks, you and Danielle must come. Danielle can do some networking. I've invited a varied crowd. She'll enjoy it."
" Will I?" I said.
" I doubt it H. You don't enjoy too much at all." ( He was close. ) " But there's free booze."
I didn't get the connection. I smiled at him quickly and then gazed at the road ahead. I liked Sean. In a detached way I suppose but everything seemed detached to me. Especially funerals. I hated going. Worse still were weddings. The world and his wife. It was all so comical. I can't understand why I can't understand.
The only thing that made any sense then was Danielle.
Still is!
Chapter 2 will follow..........
We'd been in bed for two days too broke and uninspired to go out but now she had to go to work. Danielle sat and stared for a full fifteen minutes before attacking the mass of perfectly tangled hair.
The phone rang. It was Sean.
Sean always phoned at the right time. Always after you had showered or after you had made love or just after you had woken. It was uncanny and a little unnerving as though he could watch your every move. I liked Sean. He was sure of who he was and seemed to know who and what everybody else was without having to scratch beneath the surface. This man was a breath of fresh air to me with his high cheek bones and long slender legs and a grace of movement that was pure harmony. He was enormously attractive to women which made me slightly green.
" Are you straight "?
" The whole weekend already, why "?
" I need a driver. "
" Today "?
" Yes, interested "?
" Your wish is my command. "
"Broke , right "?
" Right. "
" Get a job H."
" You just gave me one."
" Okay , my place at midday.
"You got it." There was a short pause and then he said softly , "Is Danielle with you ?"
"Physically yes."
"You're a bum H, why can't you do the right thing?" Before I got a chance to defend myself he rang off. He liked Danielle very much and I don't think either of us could figure out why she was with me. He seemed much more her style. Sean didn't think that I treated her right, but Christ she was a big girl and didn't depend on me for anything.
" Who was it?" , asked Danielle as she came out of the bathroom buttoning her blouse.
" Sean."
" Oh Sean", she said as if she were melting, " how is he?"
" Sounds fine. I have to drive him somewhere this afternoon."
" Oh well, it gets you out of the house I suppose. There's an empty page in the other room."
" This evening , I promise."
"Not this evening, I want to cook for us tonight." This was a real stunner. We never arranged to eat , at leased not at home. If it happened then it happened but 'dinner time'? No way! I tried to look pleasantly surprised but I probably just looked puzzled. "What's the occasion?"
"Oh just that James' exibition ends today and he's now going to finally pay me and I feel like ....well I don't know.... celebrating?
"Great", was all I could say. I was in shock because if we ever had anything to celebrate we always went out. And we made quite a few excuses to celebrate.
She smiled and left.
I got out of bed and looked in the mirror. Christ !
I was on time for my meeting with Sean. He seemed very exited when he opened the door to his warehouse apartment.
"Hey, how ya doin' H?"
"Good, and you.?"
"Yeah, fine", he said with a smile. It was obviously a good day for him. He looked strangely beautiful when things were going good. "We're going north to see some people about the 'Dream Inducer'." This was one of his so-called inventions. I'd never figured out or asked how Sean made his money but it surely wasn't from his inventions. Mostly they were ridiculous if not amusing flights of fantasy. I was sure they were just a passtime but somebody was obviously interested. This new device was one of the more whacky ones. It was a scullcap rigged up to electro sensors which was in turn rigged up to a main ' computing unit'. You were meant to put the cap on a half an hour before going to sleep and meditate on a subject that you would like to dream about. Then you were to change the program, a kind of reversal program I suppose, and the device would somehow feed the information back to you as you slept. You should then be able to dream what you had meditated on for longer and more vividly than a normal dream, including all the things that you had imagined. I hadn't tried the device so I shouldn't have been so sceptical but it seemed a bit too far out for me . My comprehension of this sort of technology was beyond me. Somebody of importance would surely have been interested in such a device if it worked.?
Anyway, we set off at a very low pace to begin with through the narrow streets of the old part town where Sean lived but soon we were racing along the open road of the country.
" We've plenty of time and I would prefer to arrive in one piece", said Sean.
" It's your car", I said taking my foot off the accelerator pedal. He had a good looking car and couldn't even drive. It made him feel good to be driven around was his only explaination. We cruised along at a pace that seemed more reasonable to him, silent for a while, the sun beautiful on our faces. Sean broke the silence by saying," You were in one of my dreams last night."
Other peoples dreams bored me and I told him so.
" Do you not think that dreams have meaning?" he asked.
" Actually I do but I think a dream is only of significance to the dreamer."
" I think my dream was significant but to you , not me."
" Okay, let's have it."
" Well we were in a dim blue lit room which was very cool but you were burning up with a sort of fever. A phone rang in the room and you picked it up and listened for a while. Suddenly your face took on the look of someone who had just received the worse possible news. You put the phone down, stunned, and then you turned to me with such a look of black sorrow. I asked you who it was and you said "Me." I could feel your dread." He stared straight ahead, expressionless.
" Yeah right." I said with half a smile, trying to look calm. " As I said, the dream is only important to the dreamer." But inside I was freaked. I'd had a very similar dream the night before too but I was on holiday with Danielle and I got the call at the reception of the hotel and it was me on the other end of the line. But it was the real me. The truth of me. But for the life of me I can't remember what I told myself.
" Well if you had dreamed it , what would you have thought?" he said.
" That would have depended on what I said to myself I suppose."
" But if you could have seen how you looked when you put the phone down it could only signify something terrible." I didn't really want to go on with this.
" So if I had dreamed this what would be the point of trying to figure it out?"
" Well I see it as a warning , I'm afraid."
I wasn't taking him seriously. The dream didn't freak me but the fact that we had both dreamed much the same thing on the same night was something else. Sometimes he would get so serious, and then , as now, he would just smile , revert back to his old self and change the subject.
" I'm giving a party in a couple of weeks, you and Danielle must come. Danielle can do some networking. I've invited a varied crowd. She'll enjoy it."
" Will I?" I said.
" I doubt it H. You don't enjoy too much at all." ( He was close. ) " But there's free booze."
I didn't get the connection. I smiled at him quickly and then gazed at the road ahead. I liked Sean. In a detached way I suppose but everything seemed detached to me. Especially funerals. I hated going. Worse still were weddings. The world and his wife. It was all so comical. I can't understand why I can't understand.
The only thing that made any sense then was Danielle.
Still is!
Chapter 2 will follow..........
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Still Twisting...
You're still twisting my melon man.....
CALL THE COPS.....!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CALL THE COPS.....!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Old news....
Out of the last six days I have enjoyed about four or five hours. Hours I spent with her. And after those hours, as always after parting, the curtain of realization would again start to fall and and again it would get darker and darker . Life would at least turn into grey if I didn't deprive myself of those bright hours. She will never come back to you. She may love you but she will never come back. She's looking forward and you are not in her field of vision. You wish so hard that you can catch up with her but you're always a few paces behind. Just close enough that she is aware of you but she won't look back at what is behind her.
I've never had too much trouble detatching myself before so why I'm still so painfully entangled is beyond me. These are not just emotional strings to be cut through , these are the chains of all hope.
I have no explaination of this process on this scale. Moving on was never such a problem before. This time I should be cruel to myself to be kind but that is just the logical angle. Anger and frustration with myself are the emotions to be tackled and she takes them away for a few hours a week.
Her pace may quicken everyday and you will naturally fall behind and eventually she will be so far ahead that even if she did look back you would be too small to see.
After I typed this in I stood up and went to the window. There were still kids playing in the fading light and their screams of exitement made me smile inside. The phone rang in the other room and as always I rushed to grab it as though it were a lifeline to someone going under. As so often I was disappointed at who the caller was but I remained polite if not a little distant. There was no warmth to draw me any closer and it may have sounded like a bussiness call. It took up some time but no energy. Not one word had influence on how I felt or what I thought. After the call I had completely forgotten what I was doing so I just stayed sitting there, full of so much but feeling empty.
Not full of myself, that's for sure! Full of crap, maybe? Full of thoughts that only a sane man would think when he thinks he's going mad.
The next day after showering and eating a small breakfast I decided to go out with no particular purpose in mind. So I put on my hat and gloves as the weather demanded. Before opening the door I turned to check myself in the mirror which was just as well. There I stood in just my hat and gloves. But I remembered remembering getting dressed. But I must have remembered yesterday because there I stood trying to remember how a sane man would smile. But the smile broke out of it's own accord so therefore I knew I wasn't mad. I had just forgotten to get dressed. I hadn't forgotten how to get dressed because that is what I then did.
As I was on my way out the door the phone rang again. I waited for the answering machine. And then there was her voice, I didn't rush. I didn't move. I had gone so cold I had gone blind and couldn't see the lifeline, and being saved wasn't worth thrashing around for.
Outside the streets all seemed very sensible. The cold air on my face strangely enough took me back to a far warmer, happier place. It was a place where happiness and calm outweighed interlect. It was a place of comfort. Temporary comfort. If it were only true that these streets could be this place. I wandered through streets I had seen a thousand times before but everything was new. I turned into an allyway and bumped into two men fighting. They were not small men but both the worse for drink. And suddenly the self deluded warmth was gone. The feeling and the streets again became cold. It was time to find a place which served good coffee and where there was not too much noise.
I walked a hundred meters and found a friendly looking brown cafe. I walked in. I couldn't help but check myself out in the bar mirror. Thank God ; I was fully clothed.
I've never had too much trouble detatching myself before so why I'm still so painfully entangled is beyond me. These are not just emotional strings to be cut through , these are the chains of all hope.
I have no explaination of this process on this scale. Moving on was never such a problem before. This time I should be cruel to myself to be kind but that is just the logical angle. Anger and frustration with myself are the emotions to be tackled and she takes them away for a few hours a week.
Her pace may quicken everyday and you will naturally fall behind and eventually she will be so far ahead that even if she did look back you would be too small to see.
After I typed this in I stood up and went to the window. There were still kids playing in the fading light and their screams of exitement made me smile inside. The phone rang in the other room and as always I rushed to grab it as though it were a lifeline to someone going under. As so often I was disappointed at who the caller was but I remained polite if not a little distant. There was no warmth to draw me any closer and it may have sounded like a bussiness call. It took up some time but no energy. Not one word had influence on how I felt or what I thought. After the call I had completely forgotten what I was doing so I just stayed sitting there, full of so much but feeling empty.
Not full of myself, that's for sure! Full of crap, maybe? Full of thoughts that only a sane man would think when he thinks he's going mad.
The next day after showering and eating a small breakfast I decided to go out with no particular purpose in mind. So I put on my hat and gloves as the weather demanded. Before opening the door I turned to check myself in the mirror which was just as well. There I stood in just my hat and gloves. But I remembered remembering getting dressed. But I must have remembered yesterday because there I stood trying to remember how a sane man would smile. But the smile broke out of it's own accord so therefore I knew I wasn't mad. I had just forgotten to get dressed. I hadn't forgotten how to get dressed because that is what I then did.
As I was on my way out the door the phone rang again. I waited for the answering machine. And then there was her voice, I didn't rush. I didn't move. I had gone so cold I had gone blind and couldn't see the lifeline, and being saved wasn't worth thrashing around for.
Outside the streets all seemed very sensible. The cold air on my face strangely enough took me back to a far warmer, happier place. It was a place where happiness and calm outweighed interlect. It was a place of comfort. Temporary comfort. If it were only true that these streets could be this place. I wandered through streets I had seen a thousand times before but everything was new. I turned into an allyway and bumped into two men fighting. They were not small men but both the worse for drink. And suddenly the self deluded warmth was gone. The feeling and the streets again became cold. It was time to find a place which served good coffee and where there was not too much noise.
I walked a hundred meters and found a friendly looking brown cafe. I walked in. I couldn't help but check myself out in the bar mirror. Thank God ; I was fully clothed.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Litter Bug.
I heard it before I saw it. I was on my way home from work , not really paying any attention to anything in particular. Just the traffic and the tourists wandering around without looking out for bicycles. Then the urgent sound of a tram bell rang out and a half of a second later a light crash of metal. The tram had obviously not hit a car, bus or lorry. If I had my i-pod in my ears I woudn't have heard a thing. 'Oh shit', I thought. ' I suppose I should go and take a look. It's a nurses duty afterall'.
So I doubled back on myself to see a small crowd of people standing in front of a still standing tram. There was a woman sprawled out in front of the tram and a mangled bike under its wheels.
I parked and locked my bike, and ran over to the scene. A young policeman was bending over the woman and he was white as a sheet.
" Have you called an ambulance"? I asked.
" Of course I fucking have ". He was in a worse state than the woman on the ground. She was unconcious but bleeding prefusely from her head.
" I'm a nurse, let me try and stop the bleeding ". I said.
" Go ahead" said the cop who looked like he was going to faint.
I always carry an emergency pack of gauze, bandage and plaster with me for just in case. Just if I come across something like this.
Head wounds often seem worse than they often are. I ripped open the package containing the sterile gauze, threw the package to one side and pressed the gauze firmly against her head.
" Hold this tight against her head ", I told the cop. He did it though he was shaking like an leaf.
The gauze was soaked through within five seconds.
' TIGHT against her head ", I tried to say as calmly as possible. The cops' pupils were dilated with fear.
I ripped the packaging of three more sterile gauzes open and threw them to one side.
" Okay ", I said to the cop," take the gauze away and hold her head off the ground while I dress the wound." This he did as though on auto-pilot.
I made a pretty good job of dressing the wound though I do say so myself.
More cops had arrived and then the ambulance. I gave the para -medic what information that I could when he asked who had dressed the wound.
"Head wound 7cm long and 2cm wide . Pulse slow but regular."
" Well done mate , you did a good job. thanks."
The woman was loaded into the ambulance and was driven away with wailling sirens.
The scene was taped off for investigation.
The young cop who had been consoled by his mates now had a better colour in his cheeks. He strolled over to me.
" Excuse me sir but is this your rubbish?" And he pointed to the dicarded packaging of sterile gauzes.
" Yes"????!!
" Then I have to write you a ticket for throwing litter on the street. 50 euro please."
I didn't pull the knife out that was strapped to my calf and I didn't pull the gun that was strapped to my waist.
BUT I BLOODY WELL SHOULD HAVE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Beware of the flowers cos I'm sure they'er goin' to get you yeah.......
So I doubled back on myself to see a small crowd of people standing in front of a still standing tram. There was a woman sprawled out in front of the tram and a mangled bike under its wheels.
I parked and locked my bike, and ran over to the scene. A young policeman was bending over the woman and he was white as a sheet.
" Have you called an ambulance"? I asked.
" Of course I fucking have ". He was in a worse state than the woman on the ground. She was unconcious but bleeding prefusely from her head.
" I'm a nurse, let me try and stop the bleeding ". I said.
" Go ahead" said the cop who looked like he was going to faint.
I always carry an emergency pack of gauze, bandage and plaster with me for just in case. Just if I come across something like this.
Head wounds often seem worse than they often are. I ripped open the package containing the sterile gauze, threw the package to one side and pressed the gauze firmly against her head.
" Hold this tight against her head ", I told the cop. He did it though he was shaking like an leaf.
The gauze was soaked through within five seconds.
' TIGHT against her head ", I tried to say as calmly as possible. The cops' pupils were dilated with fear.
I ripped the packaging of three more sterile gauzes open and threw them to one side.
" Okay ", I said to the cop," take the gauze away and hold her head off the ground while I dress the wound." This he did as though on auto-pilot.
I made a pretty good job of dressing the wound though I do say so myself.
More cops had arrived and then the ambulance. I gave the para -medic what information that I could when he asked who had dressed the wound.
"Head wound 7cm long and 2cm wide . Pulse slow but regular."
" Well done mate , you did a good job. thanks."
The woman was loaded into the ambulance and was driven away with wailling sirens.
The scene was taped off for investigation.
The young cop who had been consoled by his mates now had a better colour in his cheeks. He strolled over to me.
" Excuse me sir but is this your rubbish?" And he pointed to the dicarded packaging of sterile gauzes.
" Yes"????!!
" Then I have to write you a ticket for throwing litter on the street. 50 euro please."
I didn't pull the knife out that was strapped to my calf and I didn't pull the gun that was strapped to my waist.
BUT I BLOODY WELL SHOULD HAVE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Beware of the flowers cos I'm sure they'er goin' to get you yeah.......
Monday, October 09, 2006
Bully Beef.
Steve had a big smile across his face when we noticed each other from opposite ends of the pub. I smiled back and walked over to him. The pub was quite gloomily lit so I didn't see it at first but as I drew closer to him I saw a dark red gash down the middle of his forehead.
I bump into Steve only now and then, he's a mate from the bad old days. Fire and thunder. Bully Beef and carrots. Time dug in togeather. A terrible time.
We heartily shook hands and did the normal " How are you doing you old wanker......" Everything was good at home and at work and blah, blah, blah.
" What the fuck did you do to you're head? It looks like an Angel has taken an axe to it !
" Smart arse. No, I'll tell you what happened....." He put an arm around my shoulder and we both sat down in a quieter spot. "How much do you remember about the Falkands " he asked ?
" Everything like it was yesterday", I said.
" Well that's the funny thing. I can't remember anything but fire and fear. All our faces were the same. The enemy weren't the guys we were shooting at. If they had put you in an Argie uniform I would have shot at you to. No bother. Would you recognize anybody you had shot at? No, of course not. Wait a minute I'll get some drinks in. "
I had an uneasy feeling. Steve has a heart of gold but a reputation. A reputation for fighting. I wasn't scared of him but I knew he attracted trouble so it wasn't wise to be near him for too long. He came back with a couple of bitters and two cold pork pies. The pork pies were disturbing. Before I could say cheers he carried on.
"Do you remember the communications post on the hill we attacked ? Well apparently there was a guy on the other side who was standing next to his brother. He was looking through his binoculars at me as I shot. He noticed his brother fall. He turned to his brother and I shot again. I saw I'd hit him but I knew it wasn't clean. It seems I shot his nose off! Anyway, it turns out that he has been searching for me ever since the war ended , and last week he found me. It was a question of honour. I was standing right here in this pub when he tapped me on the shoulder. He asked if he could talk to me and we went and sat down. He explained the situation and why I had to die. Well, scared that he had a pistol secretly aimed at me, I head butted his nose. It was only reconstructed with titanium! I split my head open and the blood just poured out. Two of my mates who were standing at the bar immidiately jumped on the guy and dragged him outside. Cheers."
" What did they do with him?" I asked as though I a gave shit.
" I didn't ask. But knowing my mates I don't think I'll be seeing him again."
He had a big grin on his face.
I wondered where honour ends? The pork pies were getting to me and I knew I would never come back to The Rose and Crown.
I bump into Steve only now and then, he's a mate from the bad old days. Fire and thunder. Bully Beef and carrots. Time dug in togeather. A terrible time.
We heartily shook hands and did the normal " How are you doing you old wanker......" Everything was good at home and at work and blah, blah, blah.
" What the fuck did you do to you're head? It looks like an Angel has taken an axe to it !
" Smart arse. No, I'll tell you what happened....." He put an arm around my shoulder and we both sat down in a quieter spot. "How much do you remember about the Falkands " he asked ?
" Everything like it was yesterday", I said.
" Well that's the funny thing. I can't remember anything but fire and fear. All our faces were the same. The enemy weren't the guys we were shooting at. If they had put you in an Argie uniform I would have shot at you to. No bother. Would you recognize anybody you had shot at? No, of course not. Wait a minute I'll get some drinks in. "
I had an uneasy feeling. Steve has a heart of gold but a reputation. A reputation for fighting. I wasn't scared of him but I knew he attracted trouble so it wasn't wise to be near him for too long. He came back with a couple of bitters and two cold pork pies. The pork pies were disturbing. Before I could say cheers he carried on.
"Do you remember the communications post on the hill we attacked ? Well apparently there was a guy on the other side who was standing next to his brother. He was looking through his binoculars at me as I shot. He noticed his brother fall. He turned to his brother and I shot again. I saw I'd hit him but I knew it wasn't clean. It seems I shot his nose off! Anyway, it turns out that he has been searching for me ever since the war ended , and last week he found me. It was a question of honour. I was standing right here in this pub when he tapped me on the shoulder. He asked if he could talk to me and we went and sat down. He explained the situation and why I had to die. Well, scared that he had a pistol secretly aimed at me, I head butted his nose. It was only reconstructed with titanium! I split my head open and the blood just poured out. Two of my mates who were standing at the bar immidiately jumped on the guy and dragged him outside. Cheers."
" What did they do with him?" I asked as though I a gave shit.
" I didn't ask. But knowing my mates I don't think I'll be seeing him again."
He had a big grin on his face.
I wondered where honour ends? The pork pies were getting to me and I knew I would never come back to The Rose and Crown.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Misssssunderstandings...........
Scared of myself and afraid of life I set one foot in front of the other. And all around me I see and hear nothing but strength. The strength of conviction. All they say and all they do is the right thing to say and the right thing to do.
That conviction left me today. It's a real bitch!
Feeling useless and worthless I did my best to work. It hadn't helped that I had not slept the previous night. But sleep deprivation alone shouldn't have this effect!
I was walking down the street, shaking and moving like a spastic! And then from behind me I heard , " Hey, asshole! " If I had eaten the previous day I would have shit myself. I turned around. A man mountain was striding towards me. But he looked surprised.
" Oh, sorry mate" , he said, " but from behind you look just like Pascal. No offence mate."
I thanked fuck I wasn't Pascal and walked on.
Must eat, I thought though I had no hunger. I was just about to enter a bakers shop when a man with blond hair and a leather jacket sprang through the door before me.
" Hey, Pascal", said the bakers wife.
I couldn't stand my ground. I was out the door in a hurry and ate a BigMac a half an hour later. Nobody knew me or Pascal there.
Even with my belly full I felt like shit. Convinced that my eyes were twice their usual size I squinted for the next two hours untill I got home.
I sat on the couch for one and a half hours just staring at the painting on the wall. But she gave me no stength either. She was cool and assured and seemed to be laughing in my face. But hey; she is the innocent one. And I am as guilty as sin.
The morning papers read, ' Pistol Pascal ' shot dead in broard daylight.
That conviction left me today. It's a real bitch!
Feeling useless and worthless I did my best to work. It hadn't helped that I had not slept the previous night. But sleep deprivation alone shouldn't have this effect!
I was walking down the street, shaking and moving like a spastic! And then from behind me I heard , " Hey, asshole! " If I had eaten the previous day I would have shit myself. I turned around. A man mountain was striding towards me. But he looked surprised.
" Oh, sorry mate" , he said, " but from behind you look just like Pascal. No offence mate."
I thanked fuck I wasn't Pascal and walked on.
Must eat, I thought though I had no hunger. I was just about to enter a bakers shop when a man with blond hair and a leather jacket sprang through the door before me.
" Hey, Pascal", said the bakers wife.
I couldn't stand my ground. I was out the door in a hurry and ate a BigMac a half an hour later. Nobody knew me or Pascal there.
Even with my belly full I felt like shit. Convinced that my eyes were twice their usual size I squinted for the next two hours untill I got home.
I sat on the couch for one and a half hours just staring at the painting on the wall. But she gave me no stength either. She was cool and assured and seemed to be laughing in my face. But hey; she is the innocent one. And I am as guilty as sin.
The morning papers read, ' Pistol Pascal ' shot dead in broard daylight.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
At 44...........
At 44 is it too late to become a good man? A man without dark thoughts . Sometimes almost evil. I learned to have those thoughts , they were not inherited with birth. I am weak because I don't know how to be re-educated. Guilt which has nothing to do with religion or what others think of me. My own pure guilt!! Ignorance is bliss!! I wish I had not of learned , then I would still have a shred of selfrespect. I don't want to be a bad man but that is what I am despite all the good I do. And I do some good though it's not enough to redeem myself. Not that I think I'm going to Hell or anything . Just dont act on those dark thoughts. I want so much to be a good man. Not for others but for myself.
IK STA BUITEN, LEKKER FRISSE LUCHT.
Maar ik sta overal buiten en op sommige momenten bevalt dat me wel en op sommige momenten dan ook weer niet. MAAR HEEL VAAK ZIT IK ERNAAST!!!!!!!!!!!!!
IK STA BUITEN, LEKKER FRISSE LUCHT.
Maar ik sta overal buiten en op sommige momenten bevalt dat me wel en op sommige momenten dan ook weer niet. MAAR HEEL VAAK ZIT IK ERNAAST!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, September 30, 2006
No comment
As I opened my blog it was the same old story, no comment. So why the hell do I bother? For whom am I writing anyway? Obviously for myself. And for history.
Anyway the next one goes like this....
Old England Is Dying. ( The Waterboys. ) circa '83.
Old England Is Dead. ( Me. ) Now.
The trains used to run on time with almost German efficiency. Dead! The healthcare system worked ( the nurses were underpaid as they still are, ) but people got the proper care. Dead! Local government worked but now it is also corrupt. Just like the national government always has been ! Dead ! The rolling patures full of wheat. Dead ! Now all you see is rape. Eventhough rape is beautiful when in bloom.
The one thing that hasn't died is that the English give out good sex vibes. Or maybe that's only in my imagination !
Petty criminals everywhere. If only the English could wake up to the fact that the British Empire is DEAD maybe they could move forward. In most big towns binge drinking has become the norm in the weekend. Do we blame it on rock'n'roll, do we blame it on the punks of'77 or do we blame it on "I'm alright Jack" Capitalism? The later I think.
But the British sense of humour has never let me down. Long live the British sense of humour.!!!! Long live the activists on any level.. And why is Bitter served cold the last few years? What the fuck is that all about?
I'm an ex-pat and proud of it.. But then again..?
Holland isnt everything . If you take a drink at lunchtime , you're an alcoholic.
I left when Maggie was in power. In '83.
Thank God for Holland! She gave me a chance in life. If I had stayed in England I would be working in a factory or roughing it.
Old England died ten years after I left.
Holland is behind the times. But is catching up fast.
Time for Portugal.!!!!!!!!
Anyway the next one goes like this....
Old England Is Dying. ( The Waterboys. ) circa '83.
Old England Is Dead. ( Me. ) Now.
The trains used to run on time with almost German efficiency. Dead! The healthcare system worked ( the nurses were underpaid as they still are, ) but people got the proper care. Dead! Local government worked but now it is also corrupt. Just like the national government always has been ! Dead ! The rolling patures full of wheat. Dead ! Now all you see is rape. Eventhough rape is beautiful when in bloom.
The one thing that hasn't died is that the English give out good sex vibes. Or maybe that's only in my imagination !
Petty criminals everywhere. If only the English could wake up to the fact that the British Empire is DEAD maybe they could move forward. In most big towns binge drinking has become the norm in the weekend. Do we blame it on rock'n'roll, do we blame it on the punks of'77 or do we blame it on "I'm alright Jack" Capitalism? The later I think.
But the British sense of humour has never let me down. Long live the British sense of humour.!!!! Long live the activists on any level.. And why is Bitter served cold the last few years? What the fuck is that all about?
I'm an ex-pat and proud of it.. But then again..?
Holland isnt everything . If you take a drink at lunchtime , you're an alcoholic.
I left when Maggie was in power. In '83.
Thank God for Holland! She gave me a chance in life. If I had stayed in England I would be working in a factory or roughing it.
Old England died ten years after I left.
Holland is behind the times. But is catching up fast.
Time for Portugal.!!!!!!!!
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Floundering??????
"This was all your idea remember?"
And then there was a yank. But it wasn't a full body yank, just a sharp jerk of the leg. And I repeated: "it was all your idea!"
Warmth rises to the top: the water around my waist turned from black to pink and then to deep red.
It only proved that I didn't really love her after all. I was only thinking of myself whereas I should have shouted "Swim for the boat darling, SWIM FOR THE BOAT!!!!" The boat was only ten meters away. Five minutes earlier we were watching the most amazing beautiful fish. Fluorecent flashes of colour. But now my only object of vision was the boat. She had disappeared. Not from the surface but no longer in my view. I was only concerned with myself! I felt no pain. I looked at the boat. She was already there.
I couldn't help but swim in a circle. In my mind, but also with one and two thirds of a leg. There was another jab in my other foot or leg, I couldn't make it out at that moment, but then suddenly in that instant I could swim straight. My balance had returned. All of a sudden I began to flap. It was hopeless. A mermaid (actually it was a dolphin) placed his/her dorsal fin between my legs and rushed me to the boat. A little too enthousiasticly. I struck my head with such force, that the next thing I knew was her face standing over me as I lay in intensive care. Within two seconds I had hoped she would turn into a dolphin/mermaid or dissapear. I made out that it was hard to talk and she fell for it, thankfully, and she left soon after. I didn't hate her, she was just the wrong person. And that proved itself when she dumped me after I'd spent three months in a wheelchair.
To be continued...
And then there was a yank. But it wasn't a full body yank, just a sharp jerk of the leg. And I repeated: "it was all your idea!"
Warmth rises to the top: the water around my waist turned from black to pink and then to deep red.
It only proved that I didn't really love her after all. I was only thinking of myself whereas I should have shouted "Swim for the boat darling, SWIM FOR THE BOAT!!!!" The boat was only ten meters away. Five minutes earlier we were watching the most amazing beautiful fish. Fluorecent flashes of colour. But now my only object of vision was the boat. She had disappeared. Not from the surface but no longer in my view. I was only concerned with myself! I felt no pain. I looked at the boat. She was already there.
I couldn't help but swim in a circle. In my mind, but also with one and two thirds of a leg. There was another jab in my other foot or leg, I couldn't make it out at that moment, but then suddenly in that instant I could swim straight. My balance had returned. All of a sudden I began to flap. It was hopeless. A mermaid (actually it was a dolphin) placed his/her dorsal fin between my legs and rushed me to the boat. A little too enthousiasticly. I struck my head with such force, that the next thing I knew was her face standing over me as I lay in intensive care. Within two seconds I had hoped she would turn into a dolphin/mermaid or dissapear. I made out that it was hard to talk and she fell for it, thankfully, and she left soon after. I didn't hate her, she was just the wrong person. And that proved itself when she dumped me after I'd spent three months in a wheelchair.
To be continued...
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Looking back.
It's far easier to look back than to look forward. We can give the past a place in our lives but the future is unknown. This can make us scared or it can bring exitement. It all depends how we look at life. I still want to jump out of an aeroplane and to climb Kilimanjaro but I don't want to die as young as Joe Strummer. How far can I push myself? Over the edge! Sex and drugs and rock and roll. The good die young. Why am I still here? Am I that bad? Mc Afferty ye tees oot! The fall is always just around the corner. The next challange is always a leap. Hope I don't fall. Except in dreams.....
I love it all and hate everything!
Hope to be around a little longer. But then again......'' What difference does it make?''
I love it all and hate everything!
Hope to be around a little longer. But then again......'' What difference does it make?''
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Beggers banquet.
The hunt for food.
Breakfast , lunch , and , dinner.
Out a trash can, a lunch box or a two hour break at ' The Savoy ' ?
Bon appetite !
Breakfast , lunch , and , dinner.
Out a trash can, a lunch box or a two hour break at ' The Savoy ' ?
Bon appetite !
A quiet night in.
Only my rules applied! The night was mine and I was alone.
The sadness and memories arose.
The sadness and memories arose.
Mc Afferty, ye tees oot!
Haggis McAfferty couldn't go out that night. He had nothing to wear. He was in touch with his feminine side. He was goodlooking but didn't think too much of himself and was incredibly insecure.
Why had he made the date in the first place? Exactly because of the fact that he was insecure.
He was man enough to be alone but she had popped up at such an unexpected moment and had asked him out before he knew what had hit him.
She had walked into his office claiming to have been sent to him by his partner in the firm.
Never mix business with pleasure was his motto but she had run him over like a Sherman tank.
It appeared to him that he had no choise in the matter.
She had explained herself without hardly drawing breath and then in the same sentence had asked him out to discuss the case further in a more relaxed atmosphere.
And so it was that he found himself in a very chique grand cafe sitting opposite this beatiful, elegant, charming woman.
He felt uneasy.
He had only drunk a half a Scotch but he began to feel dizzy. But then she stared him in the eye and started to speak. He concentrated on her mouth, her lips, and all the words sank in.
To be continued!
Why had he made the date in the first place? Exactly because of the fact that he was insecure.
He was man enough to be alone but she had popped up at such an unexpected moment and had asked him out before he knew what had hit him.
She had walked into his office claiming to have been sent to him by his partner in the firm.
Never mix business with pleasure was his motto but she had run him over like a Sherman tank.
It appeared to him that he had no choise in the matter.
She had explained herself without hardly drawing breath and then in the same sentence had asked him out to discuss the case further in a more relaxed atmosphere.
And so it was that he found himself in a very chique grand cafe sitting opposite this beatiful, elegant, charming woman.
He felt uneasy.
He had only drunk a half a Scotch but he began to feel dizzy. But then she stared him in the eye and started to speak. He concentrated on her mouth, her lips, and all the words sank in.
To be continued!
Evolution.
Shock and horror encourages intelectual development = Techno development + War = A massive vicious circle. What is the formula ?
Figure it out.
Figure it out.
Style.
In the last few days I've seen a number of women who wear everything that goes with each other. The gloves match the scarf, the scarf matches the hat. The hair matches the rest. Women in business suits. REPELLING !!!! Conforming conformation. Conformation of..... ? Success? Are they all Catholic?
Anyway they make me sad!
Anyway they make me sad!
Friday, September 01, 2006
Summer.
Long, long time ago it seems that air surrounds pure sweet fragrance of yesterday which gladly never lingers. Found the way again, lost the illusion, no longer in that summer haze scene where words danced on through ageless days where they lost their purpose. The more, the more, the more.
A sound blew breathing on the wind transforming a moment to a deja vu feeling which joyously retuns to the present where it is safe to live. Warm envelopement of ignorance, slightly coy but unafraid , but dangerous you fly thankfully from the mind.
Oblivious.
Sublime.
Over!
The challenge to capture and preserve, to embrace and keep fresh.
Fresh enough to dream of yet another summer. Fresh as this wind.
A sound blew breathing on the wind transforming a moment to a deja vu feeling which joyously retuns to the present where it is safe to live. Warm envelopement of ignorance, slightly coy but unafraid , but dangerous you fly thankfully from the mind.
Oblivious.
Sublime.
Over!
The challenge to capture and preserve, to embrace and keep fresh.
Fresh enough to dream of yet another summer. Fresh as this wind.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
How Much Reserves? (Trigger Happy)
When I was seventeen I was called up for the Army reserves. I always fancied being being a soldier. I played 'war' alot as a kid. And I was bloody good at it! Playing one on one I died often because we would just start again straight away. And acting dying was fun. Then! But if there were fifteen of us in the woods I didn't want to die because it meant that you had to sit out the rest of the game untill one side had won. So in those games I tried my best and the enemy walked past within inches before I shot them in the back. I had no consciousness of any wrong doing. I didn't think twice. "Bap, bap, bap, bap, bap. You're dead Walker."
"Where the hell did you come from Archie?" But that was my secret.
Six weeks of basic training. Screaming Sergeant Majors, crawling through mud and upperty corporals. I had the time of my life! I saw thirteen stone Neanderthals crying at the end of exercises. My seven and a half stone seemed to stand me in good stead. Because I shot a perfect score everytime on the shooting range I gained the respect of my fellow squadies and soon became the main man. I began to think I was officer material. Bloody hell, Sandhurst!
On the forth week of basic we went to practice the throwing of 'Stick' granades. Granades designed to stick to a target. This was many years ago of course! The instructions were given by a very bored corporal. We stood in a line on the edge of an old slate quarry. There was a fifty foot drop. We were to throw the granades onto or as close as possible to a mock up tank. We were in full battle dress. Rifles and backpack. I was second in line. First in line was 'Wattsy'. David Watts. The worst geek in the squad. And we had enough geeks! Anyway, he armed the granade and drew it back to throw. It stuck to his backpack. He gave a yank. Nothing. He turned around to face me. I kicked him very hard in the chest and watched him dissappear. I noticed that he had turned very white before he dissappeared from view. He exploded before he hit the ground. Of course I was thinking of myself but my whole sqaud was also in danger. The bored corporal looked at me blankly and then managed to squeak "Good move Archie". And then remembering his position bawled "The right thing to do Archibald". I still wonder about that. But all of a sudden I was not only Squad Leader but a hard man to boot. Not one of our squad agreed to sign on. We all went back to civvy street.
Years later I got called up as a reserve in Northern Ireland. The situation was actually pretty cool by this time but we all knew the history and the risks. The little kids took the piss out of us when we were on patrol and I couldn't really blame them. We were amatures after all. The worst thing that happened there for me was a night in a pro-brit pub where there was never trouble and everybody got on with everybody. Normally! But this night there was a squadie who couldn't have been more than nineteen, but he was a regular so he thought he was the bees knees. And he was trying to pick an argument with an Irish local. He kept calling him a Provo. He was pissed as a newt. The Irish guy was brave and didn't react. The squadie suddenly stood up, drew a pistol and shouted "disrespect the Army you fu..." He didn't make the sentence off. My hand had reached for my knife the moment he started to stand. It was a very good shot. He fell like a sack of potatos.
God made it easy on me.
Two years ago I went on holiday with 'Cooky'. Martin Cook. An army reserve buddy. We had pistols with us. We both thought it would be fun to play war again. I had a 9mm and he had a '38. We were in a forest in Germany. He gave me 30 minutes start. Inches away. I shot him in the back.
I now live somewhere in East Africa. And I meditate quite alot.
Ha di Ha di Ha..!!!!!!!!!!!
"Where the hell did you come from Archie?" But that was my secret.
Six weeks of basic training. Screaming Sergeant Majors, crawling through mud and upperty corporals. I had the time of my life! I saw thirteen stone Neanderthals crying at the end of exercises. My seven and a half stone seemed to stand me in good stead. Because I shot a perfect score everytime on the shooting range I gained the respect of my fellow squadies and soon became the main man. I began to think I was officer material. Bloody hell, Sandhurst!
On the forth week of basic we went to practice the throwing of 'Stick' granades. Granades designed to stick to a target. This was many years ago of course! The instructions were given by a very bored corporal. We stood in a line on the edge of an old slate quarry. There was a fifty foot drop. We were to throw the granades onto or as close as possible to a mock up tank. We were in full battle dress. Rifles and backpack. I was second in line. First in line was 'Wattsy'. David Watts. The worst geek in the squad. And we had enough geeks! Anyway, he armed the granade and drew it back to throw. It stuck to his backpack. He gave a yank. Nothing. He turned around to face me. I kicked him very hard in the chest and watched him dissappear. I noticed that he had turned very white before he dissappeared from view. He exploded before he hit the ground. Of course I was thinking of myself but my whole sqaud was also in danger. The bored corporal looked at me blankly and then managed to squeak "Good move Archie". And then remembering his position bawled "The right thing to do Archibald". I still wonder about that. But all of a sudden I was not only Squad Leader but a hard man to boot. Not one of our squad agreed to sign on. We all went back to civvy street.
Years later I got called up as a reserve in Northern Ireland. The situation was actually pretty cool by this time but we all knew the history and the risks. The little kids took the piss out of us when we were on patrol and I couldn't really blame them. We were amatures after all. The worst thing that happened there for me was a night in a pro-brit pub where there was never trouble and everybody got on with everybody. Normally! But this night there was a squadie who couldn't have been more than nineteen, but he was a regular so he thought he was the bees knees. And he was trying to pick an argument with an Irish local. He kept calling him a Provo. He was pissed as a newt. The Irish guy was brave and didn't react. The squadie suddenly stood up, drew a pistol and shouted "disrespect the Army you fu..." He didn't make the sentence off. My hand had reached for my knife the moment he started to stand. It was a very good shot. He fell like a sack of potatos.
God made it easy on me.
Two years ago I went on holiday with 'Cooky'. Martin Cook. An army reserve buddy. We had pistols with us. We both thought it would be fun to play war again. I had a 9mm and he had a '38. We were in a forest in Germany. He gave me 30 minutes start. Inches away. I shot him in the back.
I now live somewhere in East Africa. And I meditate quite alot.
Ha di Ha di Ha..!!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Old Premonition.
Blending into my surroundings I'm careful you don't see. I'm careful to the last degree. A captive moment savouring the joy. We're flying high above you , coming out of the sun, melting with the light contemplating the satisfaction though never showing our feelings. Pouring all over you blending in. I have lost my shame and you have exorsized your demons, we merge and reamerge anew. All the time in the world and only a second away my redemtion running around to the sound of an eternal clock. How long have I waited? Seems like only yesterday. All the time in the world if you have the patience. The moon comes up, you could see us now if you would just try a little harder for we are not very good without the light though the darkness is no problem. And we're coming for you. We're coming for you through the past to your logical conclusion. The irrational conclusions you drew are coming back you haunt you. Time and time again you prove me right. You are the living proof. You hang in the balance. All above the time, all above judgement and all waiting to see what will happen. I'm blending in you still don't see. We should shake your foundations. And we probably will.
Circa '93.
Circa '93.
Derrick and Susan.
Derrick had had a hard day so he kicked the cat on the way in. The cat hated Derrick as he had many hard days. Susan, Derricks wife, stood in the kitchen preparing the evening meal and still after fifteen years of marriage she was glad to see her husband come home every evening. She loved Derrick very much. The cat hated him. Derrick loved the cat and his wife but he still kicked the cat and didn't pay half as much attention to his wife as he really should. Susan and the cat were very much in love so they were okay.
Derrrick knew he loved his wife, after all he was still here after fifteen years and he liked to come home to her to go out with her, and to be in the same bed with her so that was that. He loved her.
Susan would watch him and listen to him talk and she would be thrilled. She was deeply in love with Derrick. When he said, "I love you", she could almost weep with joy. When he said, "I love you', he knew he should tell his wife this because he was happy. The cat never said anything, just purred and pissed in Derricks shoes whenever he got the chance. Derrick had smelly feet. Susan loved him nonetheless but he was still very embaraced about it.
One day Susan caught the cat pissing in Derricks shoes so she grabbed it by the tail and broke its back over the back of the bed. When she told Derrick that evening he immidiately sliced her throat with a bread knife and fell in love with an actress in Brazil. Her name was Marrianna. Everytime she made a move or made a sound he shivered in ecstatic bliss. But she would smile cooly at him and wonder if a sardine didn't have more brains.
Recently I heard tell of a cat named Susan that stowed away on a flight to Brazil with a bread knife between its teeth. Wheather it relates to Derrick, who was in love, and Marrianna who wasn't I guess we shalll never know because nobody catches up with time but the future catches up with everyone. And I was in love!
Derrrick knew he loved his wife, after all he was still here after fifteen years and he liked to come home to her to go out with her, and to be in the same bed with her so that was that. He loved her.
Susan would watch him and listen to him talk and she would be thrilled. She was deeply in love with Derrick. When he said, "I love you", she could almost weep with joy. When he said, "I love you', he knew he should tell his wife this because he was happy. The cat never said anything, just purred and pissed in Derricks shoes whenever he got the chance. Derrick had smelly feet. Susan loved him nonetheless but he was still very embaraced about it.
One day Susan caught the cat pissing in Derricks shoes so she grabbed it by the tail and broke its back over the back of the bed. When she told Derrick that evening he immidiately sliced her throat with a bread knife and fell in love with an actress in Brazil. Her name was Marrianna. Everytime she made a move or made a sound he shivered in ecstatic bliss. But she would smile cooly at him and wonder if a sardine didn't have more brains.
Recently I heard tell of a cat named Susan that stowed away on a flight to Brazil with a bread knife between its teeth. Wheather it relates to Derrick, who was in love, and Marrianna who wasn't I guess we shalll never know because nobody catches up with time but the future catches up with everyone. And I was in love!
Pure Murder
The evolution of a heart was all I had to offer and you just could not see or percieve what it would mean to you or me. Like an outdated decaying religion our temple began to crumble. I thought you were going to leave but where we went to was too sacred to retreat from. So you went on sucking my spiritual lifeblood and I couldn't help but feel exillerated and light headed even though all the while knowing you were killing me. Why didn't you just leave when you realized that our love was not on this world and we couldn't live long in the place we go to.WHY? Were you just human after all? That I can't believe for as the blade cut into your belly and the blood showered out so too were many dead spirits freed on the stenching breeze.
And your face! God, I wish you could have seen your own face as you stood there surprised and dying but somehow calm, knowing, and above all beautiful. And both of us were freed.
PURE.
And your face! God, I wish you could have seen your own face as you stood there surprised and dying but somehow calm, knowing, and above all beautiful. And both of us were freed.
PURE.
Gibberish.
If you were told to be bold instead of cold would it hold..........water?
If it were said that you be fed with nought but bread would it get in your head....... mistress?
If I were to say go away and play would you do it staight away or......... delay?
If you were to use glue to stick me to the loo what would I do...... when the vicar comes?
If you commit treason in this season there must be a reason more than peas 'n'......... carrots!
If you feel shit it must be its that your a git that should commit........Hari Kiri!
If you're on a roof don't be aloof or you'll lose a tooth when you fall......SPLAT!
If you're on cloud nine beware of the time and watch for the sign........ that's going to fall on your head!
If I shout go without without a doubt would you pout or call me a lout and...... put me out?
I'm a poet who doesn't know it or show it or tow it along ......... to its logical conclusion.
Watch out for Fred 'cos he's not dead he's in quite good stead to bite off the head............ ache.
If you're called Dave and at a rave pills hoard and save and do them all in one go........ to the grave Dave!
If you've time drop a line to say you're mine.............field!
If it were said that you be fed with nought but bread would it get in your head....... mistress?
If I were to say go away and play would you do it staight away or......... delay?
If you were to use glue to stick me to the loo what would I do...... when the vicar comes?
If you commit treason in this season there must be a reason more than peas 'n'......... carrots!
If you feel shit it must be its that your a git that should commit........Hari Kiri!
If you're on a roof don't be aloof or you'll lose a tooth when you fall......SPLAT!
If you're on cloud nine beware of the time and watch for the sign........ that's going to fall on your head!
If I shout go without without a doubt would you pout or call me a lout and...... put me out?
I'm a poet who doesn't know it or show it or tow it along ......... to its logical conclusion.
Watch out for Fred 'cos he's not dead he's in quite good stead to bite off the head............ ache.
If you're called Dave and at a rave pills hoard and save and do them all in one go........ to the grave Dave!
If you've time drop a line to say you're mine.............field!
The Hum.
Woke up one morning and spent a good ten minutes just trying to open my eyes properly and focus. When I eventually got out of bed, roaring symphonic music blared in my ears. I jumped back onto the bed and it stopped. The moment my foot touched the floor again it screamed in my head. ' This is a good day to stay in bed ' I thought as I pulled the quilt over my head.
I dreamed in that days sleep. Sleep came easy as did dreams. Landscapes, colours and you. All peacefull places with no effort to move on when the time came. Time was moving past with no panic whatsoever. There were few waking moments in that day of sleep. I remember studying the floor for a couple of minutes wondering if it may have become safe but I let that train of thought leave without me.
The next day I did't think twice about getting out of bed and when I put my foot on the floor an almost imperceptable low hum rang gently in my head. That was four years ago now and the hum has remained, never wavering and never getting any louder or softer. It is just there. I've thought once or twice to go and see a doctor about it but that was an express train.People don't look at me any differently since the hum came. They still look at me as though they'd scraped me off the bottom of their shoe. And I still smile at them. I haven't done too much dreaming since that day though. Not even after I had saved a drowing woman from the river. I can't confess to being particularly scared as I dived in, I only thought how clear and fresh the water was, and how clear the hum was under water. The drowning woman was very greatfull when she had recovered which I thought was nice of her.
Sometimes, just for the hell of it, I put ear plugs in my ears and sit on the floor and just hum along with the hum. I can get my hum pretty low if I try hard enough. I think I did change after the hum came even though people still treated me the same. I started affecting other peoples characteristics. Even fictional characters charaterisics. Sometimes I would have a favorite thing to say such as 'I laughed like hell.' Or 'cool' or 'absolutely ghastly.'
I even thought for a time that I looked like other people. One time I thought I looked like James Dean and another Albert Einstein. It didn't last long though. I thought I looked like Woody Allen once and had to snap out of it.
I told a girlfriend one time about the hum and said I wanted to crawl inside my mouth and embrace it. I didn't see her around much after that but that was okay by me too. I met her once sitting on a park bench and she told me that even though she knew she didn't want to see me she hadn't been able to stop dreaming of me since the last time we had met. Like an idiot I apologised. It was sincere idiocy.
All the fruits of the days experience should be ripe for picking by dream time but it would seem that my orchard slumbers in permanent winter.
It's not easy to think of things in the past or at least not rationally. Since the hum came I don't dwell on things for too long. The hum beats a kind of rhythm but remains static.
One day about a year ago I met someone else who said they also had the hum. I was walking in some deep forested hills when I came across a log cabin with what I took for a frail old woman sitting outside. I greeted her and she gestured for me to sit. I asked her about herself and she told me she was a gypsy. She said that people didn't want other people roaming wild anymore so she found a nice spot and built her house. She asked me what I was doing so far in the woods and I told her it was a good place for humming. She said she had noticed that too and that even when she wasn't humming she was humming. We ate rabbit which was cooked over an open campfire and then we sat around and hummed some together. I stayed with her for a month or so and we quickly became lovers. She didn't know how old she was but I'd say she was about sixty. Far older than me in any case. She was really quite skinny but far from being frail she had more life in her than I did. We made good love and we hummed alot too. We were both grateful for that time. When the time came it wasn't hard to move on. Thinking of her now has just reminded me of something that happened last week.Just for a moment I thought the hum lowered in frequency just for a second or two. I was standing on a railway platform waiting for a train feeling a little miserable as I had a slight cold, and out of nowhere a woman I had never seen before came up to me and put a purple shawl around me. As she arranged the shawl about my shoulders our eyes met for a split second and the hum seemed to deepen as though it were using less energy. I tried to express my gratitude with a smile and it seemed to work because she smiled back at me before walking away. Incidentally, by the time I had reached my destination I felt quite alright again.
I sometimes wonder how many people on this planet have the hum. Not too many I guess. Although it could be that people with it don't feel any particular need to talk about it. I know I don't. Especially since I told my girlfriend that time. I thought Buddhist monks might have it but I went and stayed for a couple of days in a monastery and there wasn't a hum among them. They were nice guys and all and I was grateful for their hospitality but they didn't get what I meant by the hum. They talked some about a perfect tone with which they tried to be in tune with but I could tell it wasn't an audible thing. They allowed me to sit and hum along with my hum while they chanted and I think in some way we both benifitted from it. They said they didn't dream much either.
I never become not aware of the hum. I'm always listening to it. Even when I am talking to someone the words seem to come out of thier own accord because I'm too busy listening to the hum. When I saved the drowning woman I didn't think twice about diving in I just listened to the hum. I was listening to it too when I was mugged. I kicked the knife out of the muggers hand as I listened. He wasn't very grateful and he didn't smile at me before he ran away. I kept the knife. Funnilly enough as I put my hand down to pick it up a cat came out of nowhere and started butting my hand with its head and purring. Then it lay on my feet and let out a long low growl and looked up at me. It followed me home so I kept it. She's very beautful and very sure of herself. At night she sleeps on a pillow next to my head and sometimes I hear her softly growl. She reminds me a bit of the woman in the woods.
I've just been having a bit of a hum to see if it would help me remember any more anecdotes but it hasn't and as all this remembering is becoming a touch tedious I think I'll just go on humming a while longer.
I dreamed in that days sleep. Sleep came easy as did dreams. Landscapes, colours and you. All peacefull places with no effort to move on when the time came. Time was moving past with no panic whatsoever. There were few waking moments in that day of sleep. I remember studying the floor for a couple of minutes wondering if it may have become safe but I let that train of thought leave without me.
The next day I did't think twice about getting out of bed and when I put my foot on the floor an almost imperceptable low hum rang gently in my head. That was four years ago now and the hum has remained, never wavering and never getting any louder or softer. It is just there. I've thought once or twice to go and see a doctor about it but that was an express train.People don't look at me any differently since the hum came. They still look at me as though they'd scraped me off the bottom of their shoe. And I still smile at them. I haven't done too much dreaming since that day though. Not even after I had saved a drowing woman from the river. I can't confess to being particularly scared as I dived in, I only thought how clear and fresh the water was, and how clear the hum was under water. The drowning woman was very greatfull when she had recovered which I thought was nice of her.
Sometimes, just for the hell of it, I put ear plugs in my ears and sit on the floor and just hum along with the hum. I can get my hum pretty low if I try hard enough. I think I did change after the hum came even though people still treated me the same. I started affecting other peoples characteristics. Even fictional characters charaterisics. Sometimes I would have a favorite thing to say such as 'I laughed like hell.' Or 'cool' or 'absolutely ghastly.'
I even thought for a time that I looked like other people. One time I thought I looked like James Dean and another Albert Einstein. It didn't last long though. I thought I looked like Woody Allen once and had to snap out of it.
I told a girlfriend one time about the hum and said I wanted to crawl inside my mouth and embrace it. I didn't see her around much after that but that was okay by me too. I met her once sitting on a park bench and she told me that even though she knew she didn't want to see me she hadn't been able to stop dreaming of me since the last time we had met. Like an idiot I apologised. It was sincere idiocy.
All the fruits of the days experience should be ripe for picking by dream time but it would seem that my orchard slumbers in permanent winter.
It's not easy to think of things in the past or at least not rationally. Since the hum came I don't dwell on things for too long. The hum beats a kind of rhythm but remains static.
One day about a year ago I met someone else who said they also had the hum. I was walking in some deep forested hills when I came across a log cabin with what I took for a frail old woman sitting outside. I greeted her and she gestured for me to sit. I asked her about herself and she told me she was a gypsy. She said that people didn't want other people roaming wild anymore so she found a nice spot and built her house. She asked me what I was doing so far in the woods and I told her it was a good place for humming. She said she had noticed that too and that even when she wasn't humming she was humming. We ate rabbit which was cooked over an open campfire and then we sat around and hummed some together. I stayed with her for a month or so and we quickly became lovers. She didn't know how old she was but I'd say she was about sixty. Far older than me in any case. She was really quite skinny but far from being frail she had more life in her than I did. We made good love and we hummed alot too. We were both grateful for that time. When the time came it wasn't hard to move on. Thinking of her now has just reminded me of something that happened last week.Just for a moment I thought the hum lowered in frequency just for a second or two. I was standing on a railway platform waiting for a train feeling a little miserable as I had a slight cold, and out of nowhere a woman I had never seen before came up to me and put a purple shawl around me. As she arranged the shawl about my shoulders our eyes met for a split second and the hum seemed to deepen as though it were using less energy. I tried to express my gratitude with a smile and it seemed to work because she smiled back at me before walking away. Incidentally, by the time I had reached my destination I felt quite alright again.
I sometimes wonder how many people on this planet have the hum. Not too many I guess. Although it could be that people with it don't feel any particular need to talk about it. I know I don't. Especially since I told my girlfriend that time. I thought Buddhist monks might have it but I went and stayed for a couple of days in a monastery and there wasn't a hum among them. They were nice guys and all and I was grateful for their hospitality but they didn't get what I meant by the hum. They talked some about a perfect tone with which they tried to be in tune with but I could tell it wasn't an audible thing. They allowed me to sit and hum along with my hum while they chanted and I think in some way we both benifitted from it. They said they didn't dream much either.
I never become not aware of the hum. I'm always listening to it. Even when I am talking to someone the words seem to come out of thier own accord because I'm too busy listening to the hum. When I saved the drowning woman I didn't think twice about diving in I just listened to the hum. I was listening to it too when I was mugged. I kicked the knife out of the muggers hand as I listened. He wasn't very grateful and he didn't smile at me before he ran away. I kept the knife. Funnilly enough as I put my hand down to pick it up a cat came out of nowhere and started butting my hand with its head and purring. Then it lay on my feet and let out a long low growl and looked up at me. It followed me home so I kept it. She's very beautful and very sure of herself. At night she sleeps on a pillow next to my head and sometimes I hear her softly growl. She reminds me a bit of the woman in the woods.
I've just been having a bit of a hum to see if it would help me remember any more anecdotes but it hasn't and as all this remembering is becoming a touch tedious I think I'll just go on humming a while longer.
Monday, August 28, 2006
The Woman From Oak Fields.
It wasn't the first time in her life that she had been alone for more than a few days but it was the first time she had ever experienced this depressing desperate loneliness. She had lived for forty years full of energy, spirit and a life lust rarely seen in any man or woman, but now the most gloomy cloud had decended and she was confused.
Though her breast and buttocks were full and rounded her body was long and very elegant with willowy arms and legs and smooth slender neck and shoulders. She still looked as if she were in her early twenties. She had the freshness and innocence of a four year old and the and the logical female wisdom of a loving grandmother.
Her reletionships had always been whole hearted wheather it was a casual affair , or as happend on very few occassions , the true love of body, mind, and soul. She enjoyed sex , enjoyed a mans body and she enjoyed being enjoyed. In bed with a man she loved she would know him totally and they would expierience the true one being of true love between two people.
Ten years ago all her friends, male and female, had started to get serious about life, or scared of it, so they had all paired off and settled down to a kind of non-existance so she had made new, younger friends but now slowly but surely they were all doing the same.She had seen so many wonderful beings become stagnant by marriage and although their lives would go on for another forty years or so, she thought these people would grow no more nor know no more. She felt that people and society in general were demanding that she grew up, conform and gracefully fade out of her social scene and her present way of thinking.
She had been pacing her flat, weeping continually, trying to figure out where the fault lay. It was age that seemed to make people conform to the mass populace but she was still so...??? Independent! From the masses. And she had no desire to even pretend to fit in with a way of life that seemed to her to be a living nightmare.
She knew if she were to play thier game she would go insane from all the uncaring, unloveable, smug madmen all around. And she was too wild to accept her seclusion.
She looked out of the French windows of her fifth story flat down at the street, the air warm, the sun shining but no consolation. At once there were no more tears rolling down her beautiful face which was now expressionless and calm as though everything had been suddenly and sadly understood. She wakled over to the full length mirror and staring into her own eyes and she slowly started to take off her clothes. Only when she was fully undressed did she move her eyes from her eyes reflection and took in the rest of her beautiful elegant body. She took in every detail from her fine neck and shoulders to her full breasts and down to her slender waist and hips and her flat smooth stomach. All the while she was thinking of the men she had loved and who had returned her love so warmly and with all their heart and her heart thanked them deeply.
But everything was now all too clear. She ran her hands down over her breasts and on to her hips and smiled wickedly at her reflection. Then her smile softened into one of pure joy and knowledge and she walked back over to the French windows then offered herself to the breeze and the street.
She smiled for a couple of more seconds.
Written in the early eighties when I was still innocent. I couldn't be bothered to write anything new. It's late. Work tomorrow. Wish I could make a living from writing nonsense!!
Though her breast and buttocks were full and rounded her body was long and very elegant with willowy arms and legs and smooth slender neck and shoulders. She still looked as if she were in her early twenties. She had the freshness and innocence of a four year old and the and the logical female wisdom of a loving grandmother.
Her reletionships had always been whole hearted wheather it was a casual affair , or as happend on very few occassions , the true love of body, mind, and soul. She enjoyed sex , enjoyed a mans body and she enjoyed being enjoyed. In bed with a man she loved she would know him totally and they would expierience the true one being of true love between two people.
Ten years ago all her friends, male and female, had started to get serious about life, or scared of it, so they had all paired off and settled down to a kind of non-existance so she had made new, younger friends but now slowly but surely they were all doing the same.She had seen so many wonderful beings become stagnant by marriage and although their lives would go on for another forty years or so, she thought these people would grow no more nor know no more. She felt that people and society in general were demanding that she grew up, conform and gracefully fade out of her social scene and her present way of thinking.
She had been pacing her flat, weeping continually, trying to figure out where the fault lay. It was age that seemed to make people conform to the mass populace but she was still so...??? Independent! From the masses. And she had no desire to even pretend to fit in with a way of life that seemed to her to be a living nightmare.
She knew if she were to play thier game she would go insane from all the uncaring, unloveable, smug madmen all around. And she was too wild to accept her seclusion.
She looked out of the French windows of her fifth story flat down at the street, the air warm, the sun shining but no consolation. At once there were no more tears rolling down her beautiful face which was now expressionless and calm as though everything had been suddenly and sadly understood. She wakled over to the full length mirror and staring into her own eyes and she slowly started to take off her clothes. Only when she was fully undressed did she move her eyes from her eyes reflection and took in the rest of her beautiful elegant body. She took in every detail from her fine neck and shoulders to her full breasts and down to her slender waist and hips and her flat smooth stomach. All the while she was thinking of the men she had loved and who had returned her love so warmly and with all their heart and her heart thanked them deeply.
But everything was now all too clear. She ran her hands down over her breasts and on to her hips and smiled wickedly at her reflection. Then her smile softened into one of pure joy and knowledge and she walked back over to the French windows then offered herself to the breeze and the street.
She smiled for a couple of more seconds.
Written in the early eighties when I was still innocent. I couldn't be bothered to write anything new. It's late. Work tomorrow. Wish I could make a living from writing nonsense!!
This is the day that was.
Red Fidel whining for food. Pink red gunge.
An aging face looking back at me, a stranger. A big mug of milky sweet tea. A roll-up.
The same old route. I could do it blind.
Face's I know, people I don't. A helpless body and a beautiful soul. Mr. Parkinson invading a sportsmam. An old interlectual who has basically lost it. A hard rain. A beautiful soul.
Food. Because it must.
Drink!
A young woman who reads the papers, regulally wiping her nose and above her upper lip and who disappears into the toilet every ten minuites. And she smoked like a stack. She left in a hurry.
Not being bothered to eat. Battleing with technologie. Seeing red Fidel almost jump from four stories up. A rescue opperation. A heart attack.
And it's still only 21:00 .
An aging face looking back at me, a stranger. A big mug of milky sweet tea. A roll-up.
The same old route. I could do it blind.
Face's I know, people I don't. A helpless body and a beautiful soul. Mr. Parkinson invading a sportsmam. An old interlectual who has basically lost it. A hard rain. A beautiful soul.
Food. Because it must.
Drink!
A young woman who reads the papers, regulally wiping her nose and above her upper lip and who disappears into the toilet every ten minuites. And she smoked like a stack. She left in a hurry.
Not being bothered to eat. Battleing with technologie. Seeing red Fidel almost jump from four stories up. A rescue opperation. A heart attack.
And it's still only 21:00 .
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Nothing .
Nothing changes. History only repeats its self! And I'm talking about this bloody log!!!!!
Dumb ass.
Apparently I'm too stupid to maintain a blog web! So now I have to re-write my old blogs because I want everything in the same place. Maybe I'm autisic! Maybe I'm just having trouble with the world in general. This log will begin with the beginning of the old log which hopefully I can get down as quickly as possible so that I can carry on. But I type very slowly!
This is another test. Do not be alarmed........
This is another test. Do not be alarmed........
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