The Water

The Water

The water, the water,

the water it calls.

With its morning breezes,

and evening squalls;

with its ebbs, its flows,

and eddying stalls;

with its tides, its moods,

and undercurrent pitfalls.

To swim it, to swim it,

to swim it I must.

To soak my nooks and crannies,

and rinse them of their dust;

to cleanse my spirit and soul,

and strip all the rust;

to wash my flesh from its sin,

and my eyes from their lust.

I'm naked, I'm naked,

naked as the day I was born.

With dreams to chase,

dreams unshattered, untorn;

with hope that is lifting,

hope unscattered, unforlorn;

with a heart that is pure,

unfilled with hatred and scorn.

The water, the water,

the water it calls.

Come reclaim yourself,

before what's left of you falls.

Unpredictive Text

I've had the same phone for about 18 months now, I believe it falls into the 'smart phone' category. It is a neat little model, no major problems with it, except every now and then, when I take my phone out I notice that it has tried sending people text messages. They were always gibberish, disjointed non-sentences, riddled with grammatical and spelling errors. However, in the last 6 months or so, I have noticed a change occurring in the pattern. Now when I look at the phone, not only has it tried sending text messages, but it has also changed the predictive language. The first few times this happened, I changed the language back, apologised to whomever I accidentally texted, and carried about my business. But's it has been happening with such an increasing regularity, I'm now starting to wonder if the phone is doing it on purpose, having realised it doesn't speak (or type, whatever) English, it is now working its way through the available languages in search of a tongue it can understand. So far I can tell you it doesn't speak- English, Spanish, Italian, Czech, Polish or Russian. I hope it finds its language* soon, so it can teach it to me.





*Being that it's a Samsung, I'm guessing it will be Korean.

One Man's Quest To Gain A Fan

So, nigh on two weeks ago, it was really quite hot, and having already tried and failed to purchase a fan, I decided enough was enough! This time I wasn't coming home without a fan. So I hitched my pants and with a determined stride I ventured into an almost indescribable place of bustling wonderment, a place people call 'A Shopping Mall.' Shrugging off the initial shock of the noise, lights and seething human crush, I set about my task.

My first obstacle was navigating my way past the book shop. An old nemesis, many a promising shopping trip has been bought undone with a waylaid misadventure into that particular bibliothecal abyss. I put the blinkers on and soldiered past, into the omnistore called K-Mart. The expedition was encouraging, fans were sighted, but they were of an inferior size and quality to suit my particular needs for the impending Queensland summer. I made note of them should true desperation arise, but remained upbeat.

After all, I had an ace in the hole. A happy hunting ground referred to me by my brother. A place that had proved fruitful for his endeavours in the past. A place where just about anything is available, if you are willing to pay the price. A land of true extravagance, 'Myer!'

After entering the strangely lit grotto, I quickly located the whereabouts of the fans, and was flat-out thunderstruck at the range of choices open to me. I was like a kid in a candy store, if that kid was 27 and realised that if he wanted to buy food for dinner (not really dinner, more accurately, if he wanted to buy beers...nice beers) he couldn't afford most the the candies on offer. Having assessed the wares on display and weighing up how many gold I was carrying I made my selection. I also afforded myself a new selection of handkerchiefs as my current supply seemed to be following my socks out of the wash somehow. Having made my purchases I proudly marched out of the 'Shopping Mall'.....but not without first buying two music albums and a sandwich.

After arriving home and completing the required assembly, I can say that I would recommend this fan. Cranked straight onto 'High' setting, it resembles an ultra light accelerating down a runway. All in all, a most productive outing.

Beers, 'Buca, Boards and Boris

An excerpt from last night (Saturday Night Shenanigans) -

With the wheels of my skateboard at the point of sliding out of control, I careened around the corner. Only to discover that this was a very shallow dead end. At this point I felt I only had two options and time was running short for me to decide. I could just absorb the energy with my body, brace for impact and bail out in a 'drop and roll' style, OR, I could carry on and be propelled unwillingly through the front window of the house I was travelling towards at a rate of knots. I decided that I'd rather pay the cost in bodily pain rather than through financial costs for fixing the house up (my bank account cannot afford such things and I'll heal, probably).

After coming to a crumpled halt, I got up and dusted myself off only to realise that I don't know this part of town too well. Maybe it was shock, maybe it was those beers I'd had earlier, or maybe it was those shots of Sambuca, (I don't know, I'm no expert) but I was hopelessly lost. Naturally before I went out skateboarding I made sure that I put my phone and wallet into my car so as not to lose and/or break them, no hope of calling a cab/mates/GPS to get me back. I tried re-tracing my steps but that was all uphill and with an unfit belly full of booze, that course was incredibly unappealing.

My mind has defensively blacked out the next part of the night but I believe it revolved around me limping my way around the hilly suburb of Wavell Heights, desperately hoping to find a familiar landmark. I may have called out for help, I may have been beeped at by cars and I may have cried a little in despair. Then the most sublime moment occurred. I turned the corner and saw off in the distance, my little Vitara. The joy I experienced at that sight was a crowning glory that is beyond description. To save my sore, battered, and tired body the journey, I risked one last roll down the road on my skateboard. Getting to my car and finding all my things- wallet, house keys, phone, sun glasses, and shoes, was so relieving I promptly crawled into the passenger seat and fell asleep.

This morning I awoke to discover that Suzuki Vitaras aren't big enough for me to sleep comfortably in. Also I might call into a GP during the week and just make sure that my left foot, which copped a pounding in the crash and is struggling to take any weight, isn't broken.

Hidden Away

This was some free writing (or typing, whatever) I did a while ago and then forgot about until I found it just now.

Hidden Away

Self imposed prison, with no view into the outside world other than a media sized hole. 

With an eye pressed up to it to gaze out as the savage storm ravages the citizens. 

How ugly is the vision. 

Why is this so? 

Why are these the images the our times? 

Wheels crying out for grease but the only squeaking being heard is the bleating from their own mouths. 

A cacophony so loud genuine cries of distress are drowned in this boisterous ocean. 

Gleaming cyborgs, churned out generically to be idolised, adored and admired. 

With their PC force-fed lines, until they malfunction at which point they are tossed out onto the scrapheap and left to rust. 

A whole chessboard of heroes and villains. 

Each one carefully, almost lovingly, carved from articles that are spawned from one end of the Earth to the other.

From this self imposed prison I gaze out on the world through a media sized hole. 

One may be forgiven to think this hellish reality is no place for the likes of me.