More old writing
12 Sep 2011 Leave a Comment
McD’s on a Moped
We hit traffic on Zhojin Rd
An old lady swivels on her feet,
her apron blowing, it’s a grey
day.
Buses, tour groups,
leaders holding flags – one has a flower.
Taxi driver beeps.
This happy happy
precious New Year
is brought to you by
20,000 gods and pepsi.
Walking along and I get a whiff of
something really stinky, to my white nose anyway.
Ni Hao, Ni Hao,
exchange the paper he has a wispy goatee I notice.
Thumbs up, check!
go old V.W. go!
I love these older taxis, they ride a bit rough and have that old car smell, reminding me of my first car.
He strokes his wisp at the lights.
A small girls runs in front of us at the intersection, luckily we miss her.
Three little boys walk along – they look cute and wonderful. A mural, a new apartment block, much less advertising than Seoul.
My head clearer, still fear / headache but no penis. (Word impossible to read.)
Another country, another (—) – same music / where rich kids come to vomit.
Old writing and very old writing
08 Sep 2011 Leave a Comment
Girlfriend’s in a coma
Koala’s in a shelter
It’s a bad day to be
A pop-star with a dark-side
Or a husband with
A child bride
Or a bush dweller
On red rock
Got to get better
Got to wake up
Rebuild and
Drink cool water
I could be in a coma
I’m a city dweller
A dark-side and a temper
But it’s all make believe
And my Koala’s getting scary
Tentacles from his face.
What a meat-puppet diatribe of a birthday.
I douse myself in rubbing alcohol and prepare for another year.
i feel alright
and i know there’s many things i’ll never do again
but this morning i feel seventeen full of promise again
1000 thoughts and wonder come into my mind
like a space voyage returning
shimmering
everythingallatonce
i’m a good man
in the kingdom
of doom
but it’s alright
she her shake
see him hold her
see them kiss
it’s going on
everything
all
at
once
i don’t need to dance for my supper
i’ve got heaven in mind
my shelter is not stolen
nor made of broken bones
i watch the loneliness
but don’t fear it, ’cause i know
its name
everythingisnotalone
i’m nice, but not nice enough to break laws for.
Where did that previous post go?
08 Sep 2011 Leave a Comment
I wrote this before:
Toxic Proteins (3) A sequence of dreams collapsing under blue sky.
Pretty scary.
These chocolates were made in a factory where candles are made and therefore may contain traces of wax and wicks.
Television ain’t no creation, it’s killing my procreation.
- Picture of two submarines about to crash –
Guarding a field of modest yield.
————————————————–
Newer post:
and the sirens
sound the same in
Hong Kong or under
the Saudi sun
—–
You wear your insoles
on your outsoles,
but your bark is
coloured chalk.
I should have made more of time
02 Sep 2010 Leave a Comment
not being scared now is wonderful
i could have done so much, but fear of being
of being a man
of me, held me back
no longer.
Time travel after death / Dream
29 Aug 2010 Leave a Comment
- one can insert oneself at certain points in one’s life and try to influence things…
——
I was the Ayatollah, planning a bombing in Mt. Maunganui? It didn’t go well, but in the end I decided to blow it up without harming anyone – I was no longer committed to the cause…
I knew my own people would be after me as well as the police…
I got a pocket jet pack, which I sat in (POV), but somehow I also had to ride like a mini-bike. It jetted up to Northland – up to Auckland – past? I was going too fast, I tried to stop – gravel flying – I worked it out, how to reverse the jet – I stopped and then came across our base, a fort in a hill bank, but it had been turned into some kind of Hindu cult – I tried to steal a truck, but they caught me, they had discovered who I was – they had heard what I’d done, so they were excited to see me.
An incident – I broke their holy relic – we turned into monkeys, me and a friend, rolling balls - the chase as monkeys, different tribes of monkeys – swinging, running, the balls light brown / dark brown – following the balls.
We found our own tribe, across a gap, our pursuers couldn’t cross and follow. We were safe.
Gone
29 Aug 2010 Leave a Comment
loneliness – vulnerability of freedom, vastness of landscape – hitchhikers in trouble, set in NZ – teens in trouble – American school trip – horror, the setting as character – contemporary horror / triller model but with NZ twist.
The endless road.
and / or O.E. in NZ – like Wolf Creek, Maori bush myths, ruins.
B, C#m, G, F#
Marlon Brando
29 Aug 2010 Leave a Comment
in a dream last night. Golden hyper colour beach composite in New Zealand, giant birds, Mountain in the background, villas on the coast side – aging to ruins as they fell into the sea.
A bus ride when the driver left, down a winding road with William S. Burroughs waiting for us, we chatted with him and he was blood letting.
He said some interesting things.
Dreams
02 Mar 2010 Leave a Comment
Dreams get really interesting when they refer to other dreams 5 – 6 years previous.
Last night I met up with the guys from Blur again in London. Then I met Paul and his girlfriend at their house. Ken from Aus was there, but he had turned psychotic and was quite scary.
Post-suicidal-depression light
26 Feb 2010 Leave a Comment
What phase is this? (I started classifying the phases of my life at around 15.) I really don’t know. It was easier to keep track when I wrote obsessively.
A friend of mine keeps thorough journals. I wish I did, but as is my scattergun approach to living in general, so it is to my recording of life.
I teach grammar sometimes, but I’m not sure about it when it comes to my own writing. I used to just parrot whatever I was reading at the time, well in a loose stylistic way anyway.
I worry I might have destroyed too much of my brain. I was too emotionally unstable to make the most of my mental powers when they were strongest, but I do have a certain wisdom now – as long as I stay off booze. I still feel detached, definitely not great or confident with my minds connection to a non-threatening reality, the pressure behind my eye is still there. I would like to understand why alcohol does this. Apparently it’s not supposed to interact with my medication.
It’s strange being ok and humdrum one month and terrified the next, with no or little change in externals. I can see patterns in the fears and obsessions, but being stuck in it, I can’t grasp the whole of it, or even feel rightly deluded. The fact that external matter seems to bend so, although I know it can’t, I just wish to feel my best and not so shaken.
