Dust storm

Millions of photos of the dust storm whoosh onto the internet, like, well, a dust storm.

Whoosh.

;)

Mother nature never intended for us to save wails. For reasons unknown to me beyond saving face, we try to keep them down, deep down. But they inevitably burst even the calmest, turquoise, sparkling surface.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
It is much better, at the very moment a wail is given life, to set the wail free. Wails are massive, require lots of space and eat a lot. We are not equipped to harbour wails. Scream-sob-cry your pain away, and set the wails free.

To the departed

You’ve gone. And you, and you, and you too.

Re-entered into the stream of a life unknown to me,

or exited, who knows?

Taken up the pogo-stick, no time for words, no words come.

Must have been bounced out,

or perhaps evicted by the clatter-clank of background thoughts.

And once again, this is all about me.

Just another salmon.

Out there, somewhere. xxL

The cat shat on the mat…

My cat is peeved with me. When I went back to work, she started peeing and shitting in places other than her litter tray. I dreamed last night that I’d held her upside down by her tail until it came off, and I threw it into the dustbin. This morning she knew, and she pissed on the bathroom floor. She looks at me with hate-filled eyes, she sees through me into my real feelings.
What should I do?

Below the surface

It’s windy, it has been all night. I don’t like wind, it makes me mad below the surface. I live on the coast, the wind swirls around my house many evenings as the air searches for equilibrium.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” goes the wind.

“Stop telling me what to do! Stop your gusting and puffing and huffing! Stop whipping my hair into my mouth!”

Scarlett O’Hara, I want to slap your beautiful whiney face.

Longneck

Time-Poor Strategist

Little things are annoying me right now, for instance the terms “heads up”, “moving forward” and “core values”.

There was nothing on the box…

so last night I walked. I came to a dazzling beach-front unit-block and I loitered. Whipped by wind in the sea-misted dappled-dark, I spied on life. Little lives, busy passing, doing nothing, doing something. I could stand where I stood, and watch, night after night, the changes, the sameness, the fights, the sex.

Life, life, life, ahhhhh, life.

The livers of the lives would remain oblivious to my spying eyes…perhaps.

A mop-haired man lives on the first floor, his un-watched television flashes on white ceiling and window, begging him to “WATCH ME!”…but he seems lost in a book. I imagine his name is Phillip, and he has the TV on for company, not content. Suddenly, Phillip looks out the window, right at me, even though I’m hidden in shadows. He gets up, and closes his everybody-has-them-nowdays timber blinds.

At which point, I continued my walk.

I do like a good hot bath

Bath.
A long hot bath.
Sigh.
A big deep sigh.
Water,
Flashes over impervious flesh
In candle light like quicksilver,
Erodes away at the pain.
Bit by tiny bit,
It,
Washes, washes,
Washes away.
Down the plug-hole,
Like Grand-canyon silt.

Update

I crossed paths with a pool of despair, it looked so still and dark, so deep and wide. First I was only knee-deep, but a heaviness dragged me in. It was dark, it was still, and it was cold. I scrambled out of the depths of despair, tried to shake off the muck. But find there’s this weight in my chest, it’s heavy, it burns, it hurts, it’s too much.

We went away to distract. He snapped me, I snapped him. We had such moments of almost absolute happiness, but sadness lurky lurked behind the half-smiles.

Time, you pass too quickly, you pass too slowly.

Well, that’s enough about me. How the fuck are you?