Haven

I've just realised something.

I was standing in my room, pulling on my PJs and looked around at all of my cluttered bookshelves (three of them, all full to bursting) and my stained writing desk, which is covered in inks and pens and half-filled journals and scraps of poetry, as well as a large collection of watches (mine and other people's that I'm supposed to fix). And my gaze turned to my two guitars and my drums, and also my paintings, and then I got into my snug bed, and examined the pile of books on my beside table, and listened to the rain drumming on the tin roof and sliding down the windows...

This is a sanctuary. I have everything here, I have my books and my music and my writing tools, and... I realised that I really fucking love my life. I am rich. I have so much. I have so many things that expand my thinking and my creativity and my self-expression.

I will sleep tonight surrounded by so very many things that are me and my life.

Beach-earth, breech-birth,
Spat from a spit of sand to roil endless on
Cracked pebbles and worn glass.
The crash comes again, like a sail through cold glass and over again
Mindless repletion, but it cannot be helped.
Eons ago it was set in motion, a frenzied froth of thin-blood ecstasy
Creeping like poor fingers to the shallows,
Gallows on dock's edge, a surefire cure for
All manner of trash.

Well, Fuck You, I'm Self-Publishing

I've finally sat down and picked out a selection of poetry, which I will eventually release in the form of a wee little zine, to be sold at Sticky. I'm excited! I'd hoped to put one together with a friend from Deakin in the past, but that never really ended up happening. But! This should be quite fun - even though it will likely be printed out in secret at work and then stapled together in my kitchen. But I sort of love that such things are possible, and that I actually have a fantastic little outlet with which to promote my work.

I'm just after someone to give me a bit of a hand with the content. I'm not too sure what to include in the final version.

Any volunteers?

I'm quite sad on the behalf of someone else, right now. And I shall post this as a little tribute to a puppy that I never met, but I wish I had.



*hugs Skits*

Yet More Boundless Enthusiasm

Fuck, I'm in a good mood. With all of the changes that have been happening lately, it has all been a bit all over the place, but... I don't know, now that I've conquered my cold, I'm starting to beam again.

There are just so many possibilities! And so many things that I can learn and discover! God, so many things have worked out for the better lately. This, despite the fact that two very special people are moving away. That still kills me a little. But of course I'll see them, and hell, excuse for a road-trip, right? (Canberra and Sydney, I hate you!)

But ah! Work is so much better that I almost want to laugh aloud thinking about it. I will never ever work in a job that makes me that miserable ever again. And I really couldn't take it. Now? I'm so fucking happy and dedicated that it's almost unbelieveable. And I have a boss who will guide me toward ever-more-interesting projects and developments.

And I have new music. God, Regina Spektor makes me happy. I should do a song-by-song post of her new album. Next entry, I will.

I am so happy. I'm just so happy.

(And Regina Spektor should be my celebrity girlfriend.)

Interior Art

I want to paint on my walls.

No, more accurately, I want to print on them. My ultimate fantasy for wall decoration would be a whole lot of poetry printed straight on there. But I rent! How could I possibly manage to achieve that without actually making a mark on the walls?

I suppose I could project things. Or I could print off huge copies of things and stick 'em up with 3M tabs or something. Actually, that's not a bad idea.

My latest project was to buy some little stick-on hooks and some coat-hangers. I've hung up some awesome t-shirts that I don't wear very often any more. Brilliant fun, especially as I can change them whenever I like. The two shirts that I have up now both have robots on them. Yes, I own an awful lot of robot t-shirts. Hmm, I wonder if I can take a decent photo with my Mac?

*tries to take a photo without the overhead light, which happens to have blown, and I haven't replaced it yet*

Damn, I guess not. Well, one of the shirts is red with a black robot, with white beams shooting out behind it, the other is a light blue shirt with an old-school rather boxy robot on it, with red laser eye-beams and a woman in its clutches. Oh, I'm all class, I am.

I shouldn't be thinking about defacing my bedroom, I should be going and getting dinner. I've been sick for the last couple of days, and I'm nearly better, but not quite. Enough to make me restless. And like I want to go out and do something. But I'm also still rather icky. I suppose this has manifested in my brain running around and around and around like a mad thing. Oh, and maybe I'm also slightly crazy because I'm not drained and nasty after taking 60 phone-calls a day. Thank fuck I've switched departments. I am so so happy at work right now that it seems criminal.

So. Crazy brain. I spent a bit of time writing before, and I was flicking down the words almost without thinking. I wonder if everyone's stream-of-consciousness kind of makes them sound like they're slightly mad. Thought-process is so weird. And sometimes I think I take leaps that are slightly obscure. Actually, I'm pretty sure that I do it all the time. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that I sound kind of weird most of the time.

Aaaah well. We are just who we are, yes yes?