terra shrugs, the sliver narrows.

We live on a planet which is so drastically older than we are. to try to fathom that gulf of time beggars metaphors that are meaningless from the sheer scale of comparison, a single struck match held against the night sky. we operate through this meaninglessness with our stories, with our bold and tragic conceptions, so much so that when that veil is parted, and the story reality is laid down, tiny and glitter next to the truth of the earth, which is broad and deep, moist soil and blasted heath ringed by horizon, it takes some time and effort to slip back into the stream of our daily narrative.

surrealism, psychedelia, cognitive dissonance, any of these blessed experiences can bring you into communion with reality, with truth.

disasters of a scale like the japanese nuclear meltdown have the same effect on me. and for a few frightening days i must commune with reality.

We operate on such a frighteningly narrow sliver, so fucking tenuous is our grip on life that we are blinded by narratives. whether simply to not see the truth behind it, or because the narrative is so persuasive that we spend too little time outside it to see the shape of our lives. how we orchestrate every single occurrence until at some point we say "oh, what a strange destiny i see around me, how did we ever get here?"

this crisis of mass death proportion is a result of escalation and of narratives. by the simple fact of being a nuclear powerplant escalates any possible scenario that is in any way connected to it, to an extinction level event. we allowed ourselves to develop and use forces so staggeringly beyond our remit, and for the narratives to be about benefits and control, and these twin shapers of reality have played out catastrophe scenario once more. you can run the numbers, do the studies, put in place best practises, standards and checks, but you cannot rein in an earthquake. so we shape the story around the reality to perpetuate our daily narrative. all the while being gloriously unaware of the grace of a planet billions of years old, that is right beneath our feet. mistake it not, the planet will endure, life will endure, only we can see to it that we will too.

or not.

i am a poor online friend

it was tempting to post that and nothing else but that would make this a cry for attention and not a proper piece of soul searching.

i don't write, not really, not like someone wholly dedicated to transcription of their intelligable minutia, even as i type this i keep flinching to navigate away or stop and pick up one of my many distractions. i write when called to, or challenged, or drunk (as is the case at the moment ;D ), or when finally feeling guilty enough about not doing anything for so long that a short flurry ensues.

my attention comes at a premium, and unfortuantely i am geared for the distraction of the psuedo-surface, those systems which appear to be complex and self directed, but on closer inspection are only superficially complex and essentially simple, for example, role playing video games. oh my lord are they compelling, even as they disappoint they compel.

so here are a few things that have occourred to me lately.

p.s.

dear martin, i quite like glasser, but it feels like there needs to be some kind of great darkness to be developed, i want horror, and malice and vitriol. the beats need complementary elements, not catergorically conflicting elements. the difference between bricolage and collage. the first song "Apply" sums up a few of my feelings; maybe it's the simple lack of reverb or delay on the drum lines, making them present, while the voice is both proximate and, antimoniously, trailing. but not in a way that i like. the drums are timeless though, sheer and intractable, mountains strutting like a brooklyn pimp.

p.s. II

my novel moves like a glacier, though as i surmount the task more things become clear, and as i read more my ideas increasingly gel with what comes before. i am feeling evermore ratified in my romance with the fictional past i have created for australia. audacity is a fine refuge.

p.s. III

i make a fucking killer sangria, god damn my palette is trustworthy

-: recipe :-

1 bottle of De Bortolli Lambrusco (the cheap stuff)
4 nips of a reasonable vodka
300ml or Schweppes Agrum Mineral Water (I used White Grape and Passionfruit flavour)
Juice of 1 Lime, 1 Orange, pulp of 2 passionfruit (no pits)
Chopped pieces of 1 Lime and 1 Blood Orange
Torn and squeezed leaves of mint to taste.

Mix all ingredients and pour over ice in the glasses, serve to frazzled cafe employee's after a cunt-shitfuck-arseballs of a day, then, after drinking 2 glasses, lose 15 dollars out of your drunk arse pocket and luck finding both notes even though they got blown across the road, rejoice in the little victories all the way home.

p.s. III

the points of parallel between my surrounding persons in newcastle and melbourne are piercing and a little scary, name these people:

1 the slightly effeminate but by no means 'out and proud' gay boy who is quite interested in fashion and a competantly incompetant fellow co-worker.

2 the older earth mother womyn, who, after an abusive (sexually and mentally) relationship, is leaning on the stable-ish people around them, while maintaining a reclusive spiritual and creative world.

3 The mid to late 20's atheist with a capital A, who has a code of valour and heavy handed small town patriarchal upbringing which simultaneously fosters his strong sense identity,(mostly expressed through shit stirring and appeallation to some masculine archaetypes while subverting others) and hinders his growth (especially where matters concerning womyn-folk and political centralism are concerned, though he would strenuously deny this, of course).

In the first two cases the names of the people concerned ARE EXACTLY THE SAME. the last is different, by the grace of some agnostic motherwit.

p.s. IV

I graduate some time around the end of April/start of May, bitches I'll be all up in your Newcastle grill for a party, and to wear a fabulous frock.


ummmm,



p.s. V

I really do suck at this whole long distance thing so far, but once again i'm swearing of video games for a time, it really helps me to have boundaries so i think putting a few in place for a while will be remedial.

thank you for you thoughts and love, and for shaping me with your feather tip touches, you are all magnificent.