Posted on Thursday, July 08, 2010
i feel celestial
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1 comments
Posted on Sunday, June 27, 2010
R U I N
I will no doubt regret this post for its raw honesty.
But it has to be said.
I have to write to right.
I have to tell this story so i can make sense out of my senselessness.
There have been moments where I believe that I am a ruined woman.
Something happened to me a few years ago which i have never written about. I have kept it under lock and key. I rarely let it out to see the light of day. It is just too horrible, too painful and too soul stripping for words. Just when i think i am free from it, it rears it's ugly head and spits a forked tongue at me.
So here it is.
I fell out of love with a loved one about four and a half years ago. It was young love and it happens. I made the break and had solidarity in my decision. Months after the moving of states and splitting of ways, a few horrors came to light. It was infidelity at its worst. I discovered that he repeatedly cheated on me. Not only with tourists but with close 'friends'. The bulk of the town with two main streets knew. It was fucking humiliating. I had so much faith and trust in the world. I honestly believed that if you treated a person with respect, you would naturally get it back in return. I actually believed that.
In my mind, that is how the laws of the world were written.
I was wrong.
He told me i was crazy and that i was just being jealous.
I have never been a jealous person.
He told me she was just a girl who he drank with.
I always wondered why she never looked me in the eye.
He told me that his phone had no battery and that was why he had been out of touch and on a drunken drug binge for three days.
I believed him.
He looked me right in the eye and promised me that he would never do anything to hurt me. He said he would never lie to me.
Sometimes the person who loves you can also be the person to ruin you.
It was a battle to digest. The hardest thing being the brutal truth that the world operates differently to how i previously thought.
It was a devastation that i am still at times learning to deal with.
It ruined me as a young woman. It stole my confidence and dissolved my trust in people for far too long. I loved my romanticised view of the world, and having to re-evaluate under those circumstances was a bitter pill to swallow.
I felt inadequate. Ugly. Insignificant. Hollow. Lonely. Emptied right out. All i wanted was the comfort of darkness and a new postcode.
But i stuck it out for a few years in the town that ruined me.
I filled in the missing piece and found peace.
I was all too forgiving and handed out empathy for those involved.
I also went a year without sex or any kind of intimate contact. I just could not do it. I could not bare the thought of letting anyone in. I just wanted to be alone, and to sit in that stillness and be safe.
All i wanted was quietness.
So i took that one year off and got better.
And now here i sit and i watch myself create tornadoes with the one i currently love.
He tells me he would never lie to me.
He tells me he would never do anything to hurt me.
He tells me he loves me.
And yet i have heard these sworn words before.
And they spit in my face.
It rears its ugly head and whispers distrust in my ears.
I squirm under the weight and let myself get stripped back again. I don't care how much it weighs, i just want the truth.
He tells me he loves me.
He tells me he loves me.
He tells me he loves me.
It is a risk i am willing to take.
Amongst the ruins i write to right.
A risk i am willing to take.
He tells me he loves me.
He tells me he loves me.
A risk of love is a risk i am willing to take.
Are you in?
(r-u-in?)
Posted on Saturday, May 22, 2010
Sediments of sentiments
fall hard and fast
from past events
the love we've lost
the feelings spent
Our currency
the rising sea
drowning out what we want to see
the current speeds
these wants and needs
The currency of birds and bees
an urgency like wind through trees
The great hypocrisy
of Adam and Eve
the apple that fell beneath the tree
temptation dressed in apple green
To thine own self be true
to hell with Adam and the apple too
Posted on Sunday, April 25, 2010
not every house is a home
tita jules, uncle ry-ry & emerson
the ladies
kerouac
pookie j
zoe love
cocomo in the sun
oliver nate x
i am one of the lucky ones
Posted on Thursday, April 22, 2010
w o r d s that i n s p i r e
S A U L W I L L I A M S
Spoken word taken from
'W I N E'
I can recite the grass on the hill and memorise the moon
i know the cloud forms of love by heart
and have bought tears to the eye of a storm
and my memory banks vaults of forests and amazon river banks
and i've screamed them into sunsets that echo in earthquakes
shadows have been my spotlight as i monologue the night and dialogue with days
soliloquies of wind and breeze applauded by sun rays
we put language in zoos to observe caged thought
and tossed peanuts and p-funk at intellect
and motherfuckers think these are metaphors
i speak what i see
all words and worlds are metaphors of me
my life was authored by the moon
footprints written in soil
the fountain pen of martian men
novelling human toil
and yes, the soil speaks highly of me
but earth seeds root me poet-tree
now, maybe i'm too serious
too little here to matter
though i'm riddled with the reason of the sun
i stand up comets with the audience of lungs
this body of laughter, is it with me or at me?
hue more or less though gender's mute
and the punch line has this lifeline at it's root
i'm a star this life's the suburbs, i commute.
Hipper than Hypno
Posted on Friday, April 09, 2010
n. pl. hyp•no•ses
1. An artificially induced altered state of consciousness, characterized by heightened suggestibility and receptivity to direction.
2. Hypnotism.
Well, not so much.
In fact, the session was conducted by a new friend of mine who I met through work. She is a busy woman. She works full time in a completely unrelated field, lives in a restored warehouse with her husband, paints the most magic canvasses and has two black cats; one which likes me (the boy) and one which is completely apathetic towards me (the girl). Over a coffee one day, she offered to do a healing & hypnosis session for me. Fascinated with the whole concept of hypnosis, I gratefully agreed.
“So what exactly will happen here?” I asked before we went into her healing ‘cave’.
"… whenever in his imagination a man sees delights, straightaway the vision, slipping through his arms, is gone, winging its flight along the paths of Sleep." (Argive Elders. Aeschylus, Agamemnon 420).
If you want to take a journey down the rabbit hole, email the gorgeous Tia on... inbalancewithtiawoods@yahoo.com.au
Being Unemployed has its Perks
Posted on Monday, April 05, 2010
This is what i did today...
One unassuming egg...
Two googly eyes...
One cheeky grin...
One makeshift egg holder...
One ultra camp head piece...
Happy Easter YOU x
SoMeThiNg SmEllS FiShy
Posted on Saturday, April 03, 2010
double exposure. purely accidental.
Harperdillio & Toblerone
and here we have Raquella in her natural environment
Season 4 has just been released
Tiffany & Tiffany
little miss Emi x
down the rabbit hole...
Gracie Features & Shay Shay Two Legs <3
Mandrew. Meerkat Manor. Coopdaloop.
just add a bit of SALT n PEPA
phyllis. bon juan. bonnita applebum. me loves.
hanging in japantown with the Milledge Idiot & Bon Juan
southern adventures
wategos dreaming
Gracie Features & Shay Shay Two Legs <3
Mandrew. Meerkat Manor. Coopdaloop.
just add a bit of SALT n PEPA
phyllis. bon juan. bonnita applebum. me loves.
hanging in japantown with the Milledge Idiot & Bon Juan
southern adventures
wategos dreaming
The Great Escape
Posted on Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I started to do that thing where I would wake up in the morning and have that pure distaste for work. Even my eyes where in on it. Bloodshot and heavy, they too were against the fact that I devoted the bulk of my waking life to someone else’s greater good. At the sound of my alarm, I would peel one lid open to peep outside. It didn’t even matter what the weather was doing, as I would only get the chance to dance her dance in between my front door and the tram line.
When did things get so mundane?
Routine has a funny way of regimenting the many units of daily life. I had it down to a fine art: I gave myself thirty minutes to get ready in the morning. I would break these thirty minutes up into five minute units of pre-work chores. Bathroom, breakfast, hair and makeup, get changed, clean teeth, grab bag and go. There was no room for error. If a room mate decided to take five minutes longer than usual in the shower, I would be fucked. I would have to go to work without brushing my teeth. No one needs that. But it happens, and when it does, it is the precursor to what will no doubt be the shittiest day ever.
Over the past twenty-five years, I have come to learn that ‘gut feelings’ are indeed a factual method of determining what is good juju and what isn’t. For example, getting butterflies in your belly indicates that what you’re doing is good. This can be taken as FACT. Having mini tidal waves of nausea in your belly indicates that what you’re doing is fucked. To wake up with the latter, is very telling of your daily situation. The question is this: Do you ride those nauseating high seas the best you can for however long you can? Or, do you throw in the towel and opt for a sea change? (Ocean analogies are my favourite).
I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I can honestly say that the bulk of people I know have grown complacent in their current positions. I sheepishly raise my hand to this as I too am a part of this majority.
Well, up until a few days ago I was.
Handing in your resignation is so very unnerving. And let’s face it, for all those who know me, you would know that I am a pleaser. Not necessarily a ‘yes’ woman, but yeah, but no, but yeah, but no. I don’t like to disappoint. And telling your bosses that you quit has a big, fat, overfed ‘D’ for disappointing tattooed all over it. Even calling the meeting to organise a meeting had me in neurotic stitches. I lost my appetite and felt waves of guilt each time one of my bosses would talk about anything that required my commitment or attendance in the near future. But, the time came when I found myself sitting with the two of them at the round table of trust. My heart was racing and my palms were leaving sweaty marks on everything I touched. But at the end of the day, my belly was telling me that it was better out than in. And so the words bubbled out of my mouth, each one weighing a ton, and before I knew it, the date had been set and I could finally see the finish line.
Sigh of exhalation.
In the weeks leading up to my new favourite date, I somehow acquired some pretty horrendous gastro. Bathroom bound and emptied out, I had to call in sick for a couple of days during my last week. With nothing to lose, I decided to be explicitly truthful with my reasons why I couldn’t come to work. They still wanted a doctor’s certificate. Really? There was no way I would be leaving the house in that condition, not unless I was wheeling a port-a-loo behind me. So I did what I do best, I emailed both them and expressed my disappointment that they didn’t trust me enough to warrant these days off, and in an act of good faith, I told them that if it made them feel better, they could write these days off as ‘holidays’ and not ‘sick’ days. No email back. But a few days later when I checked my pay slip, there in the bottom left hand corner: “sick days x 2”. Win.
So now I am on day number three of unemployment. To the wind I throw bags full of caution. This is what I have done today: My first wake up was at eight-thirty. Then read three pages of a book. I fell back asleep at nine. I dreamt all morning until midday. Then I made a traditional hot chocolate by heating milk in a saucepan and adding cocoa powder. I ate muffins with jam on the kitchen bench. I went to take a shower but my room mate was in there and hey, no big deal. I had a take-away chai on Chapel Street which tasted like arse. I hung out in my boy’s backyard with him and a staffy called ‘Harper’. I went to the post office and chatted to the old Mexican man who liked my hairstyle today (a messy up-do which sat a little to the left). I came back home and listened to all of Bloc Party’s albums in sequential order while searching for the ultimate spaghetti and meatball recipe online. Now I am writing this and it makes me happy to know that although I may not be able to afford to eat out every night, I can certainly afford to devote endless amounts of time to all things me. And I know this state of mind and time probably won’t last forever, as rent needs to be paid and life is never static. But while I am here, and while things are still, I will take my time to work out what it will take to stay full.
When did things get so mundane?
Routine has a funny way of regimenting the many units of daily life. I had it down to a fine art: I gave myself thirty minutes to get ready in the morning. I would break these thirty minutes up into five minute units of pre-work chores. Bathroom, breakfast, hair and makeup, get changed, clean teeth, grab bag and go. There was no room for error. If a room mate decided to take five minutes longer than usual in the shower, I would be fucked. I would have to go to work without brushing my teeth. No one needs that. But it happens, and when it does, it is the precursor to what will no doubt be the shittiest day ever.
Over the past twenty-five years, I have come to learn that ‘gut feelings’ are indeed a factual method of determining what is good juju and what isn’t. For example, getting butterflies in your belly indicates that what you’re doing is good. This can be taken as FACT. Having mini tidal waves of nausea in your belly indicates that what you’re doing is fucked. To wake up with the latter, is very telling of your daily situation. The question is this: Do you ride those nauseating high seas the best you can for however long you can? Or, do you throw in the towel and opt for a sea change? (Ocean analogies are my favourite).
I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I can honestly say that the bulk of people I know have grown complacent in their current positions. I sheepishly raise my hand to this as I too am a part of this majority.
Well, up until a few days ago I was.
Handing in your resignation is so very unnerving. And let’s face it, for all those who know me, you would know that I am a pleaser. Not necessarily a ‘yes’ woman, but yeah, but no, but yeah, but no. I don’t like to disappoint. And telling your bosses that you quit has a big, fat, overfed ‘D’ for disappointing tattooed all over it. Even calling the meeting to organise a meeting had me in neurotic stitches. I lost my appetite and felt waves of guilt each time one of my bosses would talk about anything that required my commitment or attendance in the near future. But, the time came when I found myself sitting with the two of them at the round table of trust. My heart was racing and my palms were leaving sweaty marks on everything I touched. But at the end of the day, my belly was telling me that it was better out than in. And so the words bubbled out of my mouth, each one weighing a ton, and before I knew it, the date had been set and I could finally see the finish line.
Sigh of exhalation.
In the weeks leading up to my new favourite date, I somehow acquired some pretty horrendous gastro. Bathroom bound and emptied out, I had to call in sick for a couple of days during my last week. With nothing to lose, I decided to be explicitly truthful with my reasons why I couldn’t come to work. They still wanted a doctor’s certificate. Really? There was no way I would be leaving the house in that condition, not unless I was wheeling a port-a-loo behind me. So I did what I do best, I emailed both them and expressed my disappointment that they didn’t trust me enough to warrant these days off, and in an act of good faith, I told them that if it made them feel better, they could write these days off as ‘holidays’ and not ‘sick’ days. No email back. But a few days later when I checked my pay slip, there in the bottom left hand corner: “sick days x 2”. Win.
So now I am on day number three of unemployment. To the wind I throw bags full of caution. This is what I have done today: My first wake up was at eight-thirty. Then read three pages of a book. I fell back asleep at nine. I dreamt all morning until midday. Then I made a traditional hot chocolate by heating milk in a saucepan and adding cocoa powder. I ate muffins with jam on the kitchen bench. I went to take a shower but my room mate was in there and hey, no big deal. I had a take-away chai on Chapel Street which tasted like arse. I hung out in my boy’s backyard with him and a staffy called ‘Harper’. I went to the post office and chatted to the old Mexican man who liked my hairstyle today (a messy up-do which sat a little to the left). I came back home and listened to all of Bloc Party’s albums in sequential order while searching for the ultimate spaghetti and meatball recipe online. Now I am writing this and it makes me happy to know that although I may not be able to afford to eat out every night, I can certainly afford to devote endless amounts of time to all things me. And I know this state of mind and time probably won’t last forever, as rent needs to be paid and life is never static. But while I am here, and while things are still, I will take my time to work out what it will take to stay full.
Permanent Impermanence
Posted on Thursday, January 14, 2010
For what it's worth
this wealth of hurt
the weight and wait
of a lovers curse
the loss of faith
the endless search
And so it twists
a lovers myth
into eyes
and over lips
clouded skies
these things i miss
did you and i even exist?
I watch it sink
and i reminisce
three times
and still amiss
in silent times
it's noise i miss
a valentine
a stolen kiss
a tailored shoe
that doesn't fit
a point of view
that doesn't stick
And then it breaks
over old mistakes
fragments wait
at your old place
a soft voice
and a softer face
fingers trace
the now opposing space
a hollow where it used to be
a photograph of you and me
a missing gap in a family tree
absolute finality?
You be You
And I'll be Me
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