Yeah well, fuck you too

Dear Things That Shit Me,




Yours unfaithfully,

Callisto

Allure

From the past, from a distance, from up close, from the road, from the outside, before the gate, before the gate opened, before the flood of word after word, before particulars, before the dissolution of asset, before excuses, before reason, before emotion waned, before the truth, before...

Arachnophobia

In a waiting room, I admired a muted watercolour, skill evident in it's translucent beauty. I stood back and wondered at the age of the artist, surrounded as the watercolour was by children's art.
"Wonderful, isn't it?" A voice interrupted.
"Yes, it is indeed." I turned to reply to the voice and stepped back involuntarily when I saw the creature who had crawled up beside me: a spider, tall, dressed in black, and toting more pointy black objects; she appeared to lean back as she spoke, as if ready to jump, her eyes shining.
"I was just wondering about the artist's age," I couldn't look away from spider woman's eyes. She adjusted some of her spindly possessions, and cocked her head to the side, moved in on the painting, and looked at the signature.
"She's about twelve and she's the daughter of a local artist." I smiled at the revelation and admired the painting once more, the sea creatures in the painting seemed alive, it really was very good, for any age.

Spider woman scuttled back toward me and cocked her head, her eyes catching mine again,
"It's nice for a girl to have a talent for painting, don't you think?" I laughed, because in this age that seemed such a fucking stupid thing to say. But her spidery eyes narrowed at my laughter, and I realised that spider-woman was not having a laugh, she was serious; she was from another planet, or at the least, another time.
"Mmm, sewing too, that's another good skill for a girl to have."
"Yes." Matter-of-fact, just-like-that, spidery smile flashes, revealing fangs, she hadn't sensed my sarcasm, instead arachnid-senses thought they detected a kindred soul.

Sometimes, being invisible to the general population is a good thing, and I must remember that spiders are often bad ass, hyper-perceptive motherfuckers.

Ebb and Flow

Exposed by the ebbing tide, vulnerable in the blackness: the mind flat. Conscious, ravenous in the dark, emerges from its subterranean nest, and begins to rifle and sift through the grains, hunting for: deepest, libidinous, worrisome, scrumptious, and sumptuous thoughts. Over-examining each morsel in the dark, moonbeams reflected in squinting eyes. Slowly savouring each mouthful, a member of the slow food club. Until, zing exhausted, the thought is balled and discarded, but only until the next ebb.

Moments

There are times when everything you see is black, white and drab. Then you blink, and something in your field of vision suddenly stands out in vibrant colour.

The electric kettle quit four months after I bought it. The receipt has been waiting patiently, laying where I carefully placed it on the day the kettle refused to work, watching the stove boil water, over and over and over. Today, I somehow forgot that the kettle had stopped working, and I boiled the water in it for my tea. Time heals.

My mother called. In the background I could hear my father working his bastardry, it still makes my stomach lurch and my eyes squint. Time changes nothing.

By the seashore, she

What does she think when she looks at the sea?
Does she think the same as me?
And what does she see when she looks at the sea?
Does she see the same as me,
through those impossibly large,
blue eyes?

Nippy

It might not be worth noting where you come from, but having frost on your windscreen around these parts is very odd.

INTJ

I have a super-power. I know I am not unique in this. From time to time, I sense others with the same power, I see their flitting shadow, or it might be their aura.

I do have, by this stage of life, some rudimentary control over my power, but to be honest, I couldn't be fucked learning to switch it off completely. That's not to say I'm happy to have my super-power, it's not something I wanted, or wished for, or planned.

My super-power was evident today, when amongst the masses, I was able to slip by largely undetected, on the exterior of perception.

Mona Vale Beach Drive By

Mmm, the video quality is supremely shit (it's hard to drive and hold the camera still), but the music is good.

Baked Bads

Mantras

To be happy, pursue happiness.
To know the truth, seek the truth, and then, accept it.
Be content with what the universe hands you, don't wish for things to be otherwise.
Eat chocolate.
Pat dogs.
Cuddle cats.
Smile at strangers (nb: not weird, stalker-types).
Walk barefoot on the sand.
Swim in the sea.
Love.
Live.

She died whilst living

Making salt dough with the kids,
cocooned in contentment,
an untimely phone-call
halts the laughter.

Words drew me into her vortex of pain,
I fell into the arms of the comfort-sofa,
heart thumping,
trembling rush of disbelief.

Dream-state dissipates,
Leviathan-reality breaches
the glassy surface of unreality
and I,
eat cookie-dough.

Sonic Lunatic

I didn't know he knew the word, but my kid just told me I "dance like lunatic" to Sonic Youth.

I don't mind.

“O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?”

It was pretty chilly here this morning, so I plonked myself in the 'North Room". As I endeavoured to comprehend some must-be-read documents, the sun worked it's magic on my body, and I began to thaw. Of course, I fell asleep, but the little melodrama that was playing out downstairs did not allow for a long sleep. After my power-nap I continued sitting in the sun, serotonin levelling, staring out the window but not at the view, savouring the unrivaled rush, on this blue-cool winter day.

Warm and flushed, I sit in the shadows as I type, the sunshine a mere meter from my body. Urges well-up, and I feel compelled to return into the warmth. One of the simplest pleasures, freely available to most, no age-sex-species discrimination. Awesome.