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I am covered in skin.
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26th-Nov-2010 10:18 pm(no subject)
The world is like a ride at an amusement park. And when you choose to go on it, you think that it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills, and it's very brightly coloured, and it's very loud and it's fun, for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time, and they begin to question - is this real, or is this just a ride? And other people have remembered, and they come back to us. They say 'Hey! Don't worry, don't be afraid, ever, because, this is just a ride.' And we...kill those people. Ha ha ha. 'Shut him up! We have a lot invested in this ride. SHUT HIM UP! Look at my furrows of worry. Look at my big bank account and family. This just has to be real.' It's just a ride. But we always kill those good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok. But it doesn't matter because: it's just a ride. And we can change it anytime we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings, and money. A choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourselves off. The eyes of love, instead, see all of us as one. Here's what you can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money that we spend on weapons and defence each year, and instead spend it feeding, clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, for ever, in peace.
13th-Mar-2009 12:43 pm - Dead Hour.

There will be no further comment.
No more defiant fists will lift.
Now mesmerised by an idea
answering why my life's in drift.

This has set a wheel in motion;
coincidence and fate expelled.
Before then, one hundred chances,
With every moments breath withheld.

We met half-way on the crossing
Me, late to a class I had missed.
Two of us. One giant city.
And I'm pulling you back by the wrist.

Night three in the festival tent,
after I'd helped your drunken friend.
You and your mates about to leave,
Us to one side, and time-space suspend.

I can count a thousand over
When together we would reprise
Our old puzzle perfect friendship
Trapped in locked showdowns, eye to eyes.

Now you're no longer in my class
And no longer a distraction.
Once touching each others shoulders.
Now dead by the Law of Attraction.

From my fourteenth floor apartment
Alone on Wednesday night it rained.
And not from that big house calling
for us, to wrap into our veins.

In my dreams its presence lingers.
The two of us and that big place.
I imagined it just waiting
For our souls hugged on it's staircase.

On Wednesday night it poured out here.
The drops far from where they should.
No varnished balustrade to hold.
No house encircling us in wood.

Here at step one and I am stuck.
Firstly, to know what you desire.
How can I ask the universe
if I want what I had prior.

Instead I retreat to our house
Behind closed lids although it's small.
Here I'll take the chance I missed and
paint your shadow against my wall.

The reality is, it's over.
Now you're no longer what I own.
But if I smile it's just my luck
That I'm an expert at living alone.
9th-Feb-2009 08:10 am - Hedgehog's Dilemma.
Well, that's one part of it. An equal or opposite reaction of something that has long been and gone. Something little, perhaps, sticking together the bigger picture. But this catch-22 lays flat in the background, so very low, like hedgehogs themselves as they rest. And I continue to float through everyone and everything that passes into my world. This is no fifty-fifty proposition. This is just me. Me crossing the road alone, without looking back. Me - Resolute, and undeterred by all the time that has passed. I guess a hedgehog doesn't have a sense of missing opportunities or losing wisdom. So I'm making my way smoothly around anything that even remotely appears to reach out from afar. Weaving, expertly. I've done it one hundred times before. But I cannot understand how you can let yourself hurt someone so god damn much. A woman is a weapon. Dark blue, dark blue, I have always been alone in a crowded room. Bon Iver, Wolves. And I'm, floating through. Nobody can feel me and it's nothing but dark blue.
25th-Jan-2009 02:21 pm(no subject)
Australians are so out of touch with the rest of the world. They'll take a quick flight up from Melbourne to Sydney every fortnight for work. Nonchalently. We'll fly up to Queensland for the holidays. It's no big deal. It's a step away, a little step. We're so far into our own little world that we don't realise that the distance from Melbourne to Sydney is more than that from the UK to Ireland. More than France to Germany. Flying from Melbourne to Brisbane would cover more ground than the United Kingdom to Norway. What to us is a brief flight, is to others a dive into another country. Another culture. We're conceited and self-loving, us Australians. Call it patriotic if you will. Or taking things for granted. Because this is easy. A roadtrip up state. A day's wage on a train fare. So easy to become trapped. Girt by sea. We don't think we've travelled at all, when really we've seen a whole world.
18th-Dec-2008 09:05 am(no subject)
"The problem with society," she moved to shift her foot from under her leg, "is that we think we've got to cure everything."
She'd hit the jackpot. Here we were, the two of us, fussing about with getting the rats back into their cages. We didn't cure anything today. But even if we did, it wouldn't have saved us. We think that if people aren't like the majority, then they're sick. We think depression is a disease. We call schizophrenics crazy. Further side effects of contemporary society include: Consumerism, Perfectionism, Nausea
See also: Vomiting
See also: Alcohol poisoning
See also: Football matches
Headaches, Conformity, Hedonism, Christianity, Megalomania
See also: Delusions of grandeur
See also: Narcissistic tendencies
See also: Love.
30th-Aug-2008 12:07 am - Cause I don't remember anymore.
Driving down Sydney road
between merging taxis
as I glide home on tracks of steel
propelled by night
but Sydney road is always busy.
How have I changed?
I have become empty.
Out the way out the way out the way out the way
or he'll run you over with his deliveries trolley
fresh brisk from the street
with the help of three men
brisk brisk down the stairs
because the lift is broken
or more specifically;
18th-Jul-2008 06:02 pm - The rabbit in the snow.
Between snow coated rocks
but I see him.
Ears pricked up,
he's self-concerned and I am curious
yet too far away.
He'd be gone forever if he saw me coming.

Swallowed in distant fog I am invisible
and frozen stiff.
But in the clear he goes on.
The rabbit in the snow.
But I will wait.
I have all the time in the world.

Like building up a muscle.
That I can't reverse.
Every day I'm working on it
They say spring comes.
But it protects me all the same.

It's passive
This art of hoping.
A noun not a verb.
This is a minor form of dispair,
disguised as a virtue.
Or opportunities - ignored.

This is laziness.
And not going anywhere.
This is the sign;
"Beware of the Gentleman,
for he is just a patient wolf."
25th-May-2008 02:03 pm - March 2008, pt2.
Our Smallest Adventures.

Getting lost on public transport
walking for hours
and hours
and spending money on food
when money didn't really mean anything
and food was a hobby.

I miss travelling away from home
to queensland,
just because my uncle insisted.
and thinking
and feeling
and when text messages meant so much.

I miss days with just one person
and a couple of cameras
and maybe v
or maybe not.

I miss adventures,
and travelling to the end of train lines,
jumping fences into cemetaries
and running down streets
drunk from an empty pub
because we got kicked out of the first one
and breaking into someone elses house
and jumping on their bed.

I miss Robert Porter because I can pinpoint when my adventures ended.
Mim turned eighteen and Robert disapeared.
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