Screen Grime

I cleaned my screen t0day, cleaned it of the dust and grime that had built up over weeks and weeks of waiting till i got exactly the right thing to clean it. It was a mere 10meters away from my desk.

Trolls and bricks

Failure lurks like a troll under the bridge, and not just failure but totally screwing up. The mash up of amazingness and stress is the pressure cooker of find myself in, more interesting at least than just stress. A lot more interesting.

The troll, however, has a magic and story all it's own and it's eyes glimmer with the memories of life, love and loss.

Words fall like bricks from a wheelbarrow, clumsy and not really what i wanted, i was carrying them to make a bridge.

Exhaustion

My brain falling into little pieces from exhaustion and stress,
Love, chocolate, sugar and alcohol all taking their toll
On what i think i should be doing, on who i think i am.

Everything feels thin, shadows dancing on a piece of paper
Torn out of an old crumpled up exercise book
And i too feeble to do anything but make rabbit shadows.

There is a way in which i betray myself by pushing too hard
My emotions scattered like toys in a playroom at midnight,
Yet the sharp edge lets insights out i normally would not speak.

There is a strange wisdom in exhaustion of not caring,
Of seeing things in a harsh light and not taking them on
But really i want to sink into the deep sleep of the ocean depths.

The simple pleasure of just doing what needs to be done. Of persisting till the work is complete. There is a deadline, a natural gas BBQ that needs to be converted to LPG so we can have a weeding party and sear flesh (both meat and vegetable) in the way only a BBQ does.

And so the nozzles i need to get are really rare, and after 3 days of searching i give up, and of course that's when i find them, and they fit. Then when i fit them, the BBQ doesn't work because it was wasp nest at somepoint in it's life and i have to clean out dead wasp bodies and hive dusk from the whole thing.

But then, voom and whoosh, it works, and i feel happy, satisfied.

However i know that if it wasn't for the deadline, it wouldn't have happened. And i wonder why this was so easy to do, and other things are so hard.

Quiet Melodrama

The house is quiet, black and white comic book film noir flickers through my head like a cinema scene from a slick film. Today was a skin of the teeth kind of day, making ends meet by doing way more than one day of work: in a focused flurry getting just enough words typed out to keep people happy, to keep afloat, to maintain the illusion that i'm not struggling with my demons everystep of the way, that i've not spent most of the week distractedly searching my soul and not being a well oiled cog. I wish i could focus like that everyday, but i guess if i did i might burn a hole right through the screen that my life plays out on; either that or get or so caught up in the flickering images i burn myself dry. I've done the later, and more than once. Now i fear it. I guess i don't have the faith i can do the former. Perhaps i don't want to. I guess i don't because i haven't, but then again i know i do. Or perhaps i believe that it will also burn me dry, that i'm afraid of my inner life being exposed as just so much tinder.

Or perhaps i just like being melodramatic sometimes, enchanted by my contradictions.

Work.

It feels like a fractured landscape, a world that struggles to keep its morphic field intact: doorways to other places and other lives keep opening and closing beckoning and demanding; I try to hold it to some consistency, focus this place into a coherent whole that can contain my attention till I choose to step out – which I can do for a short time – but inevitably it crumbles again when the slightest bit of attention wanders or the will wavers.

I must ask myself: is this the place for me? Or should I Alice in Wonderland like follow the rabbit hole and see where it leads, and how much how deeply do I need to trust and let go?

Again and again we start again

Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Until....