Stand in the emptiness
Underneath is the desire to be loved
Energy comes from the blind spots
(I am inadequate)
To reach for higher things

you came in through the back door
no the front no the back
you saw me I didn't see you
but I must have because
I'm writing this now

Memorable Quotes of the Weekend.

"I used to party surprise people, often with a bit of a split."

"Splitting on things."

"I just need to lose this holiday weight... From the last seventeen holidays."

"You're the one... I met first."

 "Excess in moderation."

I read until the character's problems are bigger than my own. 
With Jonathan Franzen it takes three sentences.

Inanition.

Tender chicken?
Till 2am…
Succulent Steak?
Ask a waiter…

Cool to play pool to.

1. Bend your knees.
2. Get low.
3. Keep your elbow straight, in line with your cue.
4. Follow through.

 "This summer the roses are blue; the wood is of glass. The earth draped in its verdure has as much effect on me as a ghost. It is living and ceasing to live which are imaginary solutions. Existence is elsewhere."

First Manifesto of Surrealism, Andre Breton

Odd limbo I find myself in.
No debate.

Jeans are never that dirty.

You don't meet a voice like that often.

Memorable Quotes of the Weekend.

"As empty as it shows, it reflects the fullness of existence."

"I will miss your suicidal tendencies."

Memorable Quotes of the Weekend.

"You can juggle depression with talent, I have."

"Decanted butter makes me restless."

"One cheese. And one cheese only."

"How does that make you feel?" 
"Drugs."

Office Haiku.

In a meeting you

I go to get a coffee

I don't even want

Once there hung a mess
A scribbled ball of thread
Woolly woolly woolly
Suspended in my head

Crocheted into a doilie
Dyed a deeper red
The mess is now carpeted
A musing emptiness in my head

Memorable Quotes of the Weekend.

"It's cheese puffs or nothing."
 
"What's that?"
"Wine."
"So what's the problem?"
 
"Sounds like you went there with my mindset."
"Yeah, and that's not fun."

The Death of My Expectant Self.

There is nothing to do.
There is nowhere to go.
There is nothing to achieve.
We are just sitting here doing nothing.

Memorable Weekend Quotes.

"Anxiety springs from a constant negotiation of your beliefs and morals."

"We don't need to eat to be happy, but still..."

"Please tell me you're joking."
"Yeah sure."

"If this makes sense to you, you're not getting it."

Résumé.

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

Dorothy Parker

"Oh, what a catastrophe, what a maiming of love when it was made a... merely personal feeling, taken away from the rising and the setting of the sun, and cut off from the magic connection of the solstice and the equinox! This is what is the matter with us. We are bleeding at the roots, because we are cut off from the earth and sun and stars, and love is a grinning mockery, because, poor blossom, we plucked it from its stem on the tree of life, and expected it to keep on blooming in our civilized vase on the table."

D.H. Lawrence

ESTRAGON: In the meantime let's try and converse  
     calmly, since we are incapable of keeping silent.

VLADIMIR: You're right, we're inexhaustible.

ESTRAGON: It's so we won't think.

VLADIMIR: We have that excuse.

ESTRAGON: It's so we won't hear.

VLADIMIR: We have our reasons.

ESTRAGON: All the dead voices.

VLADIMIR: They make a noise like wings.

ESTRAGON: Like leaves.

VLADIMIR: Like sand.

ESTRAGON: Like leaves.

[Silence.]

VLADIMIR: That passed the time.

ESTRAGON: It would have passed in any case.

- Waiting for Godot, Samuel Beckett

"Good words, But deeds must prove it also; ... remember you don't forget resolutions formed in the hour of fear."
a
- Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte

                          MR FITZGERALD

         Did you notice the new secretary in my office? 

         A temp agency sent her to help out while Miss 

         Hamish was in the hospital. Her name's Samantha. 

         She's a really sweet girl. She's a newlywed, lives 

         here in town and... I could tell from the moment 

         she got here that she really wants to work here 

         permanently. I mean, a 5 minute commute, very 

         convenient for her, right here in town. It would 

         be a great job for her. Yeah. Anyway, this morning 

         she was trying to figure out through a series of 

         sideways questions exactly how serious Miss Hamish's 

         illness was. And, she was acting concerned of course, 

         but I could see in her eyes, you know, she doesn't 

         know Miss Hamish, she can't help it. There's a 

         part of her that wants Miss Hamish to die. It'll 

         get her the job.

                          TERRI

         So?

                          MR FITZGERALD

         So Miss Hamish is dead Terri. I got the call an 

         hour ago.

                          TERRI

         Sorry Mr Fitzgerald.

                          MR FITZGERALD

         Don't say things you don't mean Terri. You're not 

         sorry she's gone. You barely knew her.

                          TERRI

         Sorry.

                          MR FITZGERALD

         Now after I got off the phone with the hospital 

         I called the temp agency and I told them, you know,  

         we're going to hire Samantha permanently. And they 

         thanked me and they said they'd call her and give 

         her the news, and I said you know, if you don't mind, 

         I would rather do it, because I kind of wanted to 

         spring the news on her, you know, what a great way 

         for she and I to start working together, right? But 

         now, I have to tell her she's got the job, and I will  

         have to watch, while she pretends to be sad. 

         Life's a mess dude. But we're all just doing the best 

         we can. You know? You and me and Samantha. We're just 

         doing what we can. So if I hurt you or if I lied to 

         you, all I can tell you is I'm sorry, and I will try 

         to do better. Maybe I will do better, or maybe I'll 

         do even worse, I don't know. I screw up all the time.  

         Because that's what people do. You know?

Memorable Weekend Quotes.

"It's not about the bridges."

America.

America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can't stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb
I don't feel good don't bother me.
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I'm sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don't think he'll come back it's sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I'm trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I'm doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven't read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for
murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I'm not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there's going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right.
I won't say the Lord's Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven't told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over
from Russia.
I'm addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It's always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie
producers are serious. Everybody's serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.
Asia is rising against me.
I haven't got a chinaman's chance.
I'd better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals
an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and
twentyfivethousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underprivileged who live in
my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I'm a Catholic.
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his
automobiles more so they're all different sexes
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they
sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the
workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party
was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother
Bloor made me cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have
been a spy.
America you don't really want to go to war.
America it's them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia's power mad. She wants to take
our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader's Digest. Her wants our
auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our filling stations.
That no good. Ugh. Him makes Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers.
Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I'd better get right down to the job.
It's true I don't want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts
factories, I'm nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I'm putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.

Allen Ginsberg

If you spend half a working Monday googling depression are you

a) More productive than you would have been shuffling tea bags
b) Less productive than your colleague who
c) Depressed
d) Apat

The Second Coming.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

William Butler Yeats

Lesbian sex with Kathy Bates.

Song Off #4.

vs.

Dam Days.

La Petit Mort.

Barber - Adagio for Strings

Memorable Weekend Quotes.

"Capitalism: God's way of determining who is smart and who is poor."

"Fish! For sport only, not for meat. Fish meat is practically a vegetable."

"As the sands of time move like Seabiscuit from the gate... ... um..."

"Acorns, acorns, acorns for freeeee!"

Me: "Oh, so is that why you go to church? For the cake?"
Father: "My girl, we go for anything that is free."

Memorable Weekend Quotes.

"There are many ways to live a life."
a
"I could do a lot more, but I won't put down my beer."

This weekend the sky was an absolute abyss. One glimpse at trees grounded would force my eyes and mental state into focus, but if I allowed them to blur and intentionally faded their lit leaves and roots too deep I could rise and fall into the chasm that was the sky. My eyes were drawn in and towards, so far-flung open they ached, but with an unveiling that is beautiful and only stabbingly surprising because it had for so long remained unseen. The sky was a deep ocean radially softening to a light, white blue. The clouds smoke-signal puffed from a cornered source and rippled as if reflections on water, the entire sky the bottomless surface of a freshwater lake. There was convergence and divergence as reliant on air temperature and wind as on my own fractal manipulation, the crystallised mass kaleidoscoping to my will and imagination. After days the clouds dissolved, seemingly while I stared too hard to notice, and there was left only the seamless gradient of a darkening dusk, purpled.

Nothing was different. 

Two days ago the water was soft if at all on my legs and rippled rainbows from surface wind and sunbeams. A petal shaped childlike rainbow tiled across the lucid blue, rising and twisting and falling in a chromatic vibration. Thousands and thousands until dispersion and light and a beauty undulating was all there was. Where the jet pumped out more water the movement made on the surface was fiction of the scientific sort. As if the water was being tugged, pulled tight like scarred skin. But it was translucent, with daggers of afternoon light. The water I had cupped in my hand and proceeded to drop from my fingers had a solidity, an invisible cloak-like quality; its matter ethereal, its temperament ambient.

Yesterday my body was unashamed. It housed my bits, my pieces — my unravelling insides — and it was assured of its practical form. Disposed of clothes, instead of a melding or a fusing there was simply air and flesh with no discernible difference, in quite the same way as the dark lavender above ends as a light mauve on the skyline. A statement my body did not make, it was not asserting its nakedness, it would have been as comfortable overlooking a balcony onto a crowded street. Shoulder blades celestial, stomach pale, a welcoming womanly moon bathed in dark blue, feet ancient and Roman, nipples pursed to welcome the paralleling stars; pleasure expansive, and unequivocal. My face was inconsequential.

Last night the stars were pinpricks in the black felt cloth of night, their fluttering rip revealing a light behind so blinding that if the curtain indeed came down the earth would be washed in an illuminated explosion. Today you are as important as I, a silent, radiant solace that I am indeed not one but an extension of another of the same understanding. Your hand in my hand is my hand in my hand as my hand is yours in yours. Today you matter as I matter. Your shadow more comforting to me than the fleshy body of any other, your presence my sunlit Secret Garden. Today you are my undying escort to Aristophanes’ dance.

Memorable Weekend Quotes.

"So I heard a car alarm go off, and I thought, yeah you know, that's cool, but when's the bass gonna kick in."

"People. People people people people."

"From this joint on..."
"But what's the joint?"
"You're missing the joint."
"You make a good joint."
"Joint me in the right direction."
"But what's your joint?"
"Passed the joint of no return."
"We're 23 joints ahead." 
"I don't see your joint."
"It's jointless."

Memorable Weekend Quotes.

"But yeah... It's true... What she said about what you're saying... And anything that came before that."
a
"...it's got recipes and, clothes, how to work out and, like, just, how to be a better man."

"When was the last time Idols wasn't on?"

How Times and My Favourite Nut Has Changed.

2011 was the year of the sweetcorn sweet chilli (sweetcorn-chilli?) frittata. Often a morning friend. More of an egg flattie really. It never needed anything else; egg, sweetcorn, sweet chilli. Consistently good; no other breakfast could better its pleasures. Sustenance.

Nuts made an impact. The protein-packed goodness of bite sized endorphin-releasing crunchiness accompanied me through many a day/night/morning breakfast bowl. The almond, that has left me unsatisfied before, made a comeback. The brazil. The buttery Macadamian. ... The cashew fell by the wayside. The peanut was overshadowed years ago.

The winter work lunch of leftover broccoli and/or cauliflower in white sauce with some sliced ham, a dash of tabasco and a smear of mustard was surprisingly tasty, satisfying and healthy. Cherry tomato, mature white cheddar, basil and seed pasta drizzled only with olive oil and balsamic vinegar; a slightly altered version of one that was served to me in the Knysna forest from an organic garden still remains the healthiest, happiest meal. My Nanny agrees. Mature white cheddar substitutes fresh buffalo mozzarella. Ciabatta salad a la panzanella. At some point I made tiny poppy seed biscuits with white lime icing but I have lost the recipe and it hurts.

Crunchie Oats. We've been through this.

Winter held discoveries of horlicks heated to the point where I'm peeling the milk condom off the top, splashed with kahlua and sometimes cinnamon if feeling sensitive. Drunk at deep night, often with a nighttime companion.

Citrus french toast was created in Lubanzi, on a mountain perched over the sea. Fresh orange, cinnamon, sugar in the mix, dried fantasia nectarines or peaches it didn't matter it was delicious. Back home with full pantries mascarpone was added, though perhaps it should have been greek yoghurt. Peasant food was also devised due to dwindling supplies in the Transkei; a tasty, hearty stew of fried potatoes, garlic, tomatoes, sweet chilli and baked beans. Preferably eaten with bread, a fierce hunger and smatterings of rain. The fiercely good mushroom sauce that dripped off chicken at Terra Khaya in Hogsback is restored as soon as I close my eyes and picture the backgammon board next to the fire. The same chef handed me Xhosa bread and butter in the morning to enjoy with my Earl Grey and fresh cow's milk. (Why we drink anything else is ridiculous.)

Salticrax and chocolate.

The year ended almost too well, with baskets of dried black figs, the sweetest oranges sprinkled with cinnamon, date and chocolate roasted nuts, lupin with organic vegetables. Fresh rolled couscous in the Atlas mountains, doused with olive oil from the trees in the villager's backyards. Drinking yoghurt, strangely, of which I've never been a fan. Chitterlings: Baby camel intestines wrapped in lamb intestines perched atop vegetable couscous in the black, flat desert of the Sahara. Nomad bread dipped into date syrup and creamy harira for breakfast. A camel burger in Fez with a couple of Mexican biologists. A cheesecake almost too fresh and hot sweet almond milk served with solitary and Henry Miller. A baguette sandwich with tuna lettuce eggs chips polony tomato everything else on the wall of a Spanish mosque. A whole rotisserie chicken with lemon preserve and olives and bread devoured as a foursome. Lamb eaten off a barbeque at 1am at a public bus stop. The flaky square Moroccan crepe; mixed with tomato and mushroom and onion to create a pizza bread, pounded with experience, sliced open on the grill and filled with egg and cheese, or spread with Nutella, eaten folded and hot. Saccharine mint tea served by strangers and friends in back rooms, overlooking the sea, in the middle of the desert, with a fresh rolled croissant in the middle of the night. A cauliflower tagine with fresh bread and olives, served with a view of donkeys, sunshine and a Berber woman with eyes unfilmed.

2012 has given me fresh harira in a carpet shop. A gumbo sandwich with children. Free tuna in an airport. Prickly pears and amazing uttered under my breath. Glass jar cookies sprinkled on top of Greek yoghurt and honey ice cream. A french toast sandwich with mature white cheddar and ham. Fresh figs from the tree. 

Love is peeling their pistachios.


2011 was the year of the sweetcorn sweet chilli (sweetcorn-chilli?) frittata. It sizzled often, there on the pan. More of an egg flattie really. It was so simple, never needed anything else. Consistently good; no other breakfast could better its pleasures. 

Nuts made an impact. The protein-packed goodness of bite sized endorphin-releasing crunchiness (fact) accompanied me through many a day/night/morning breakfast bowl. The almond, that has left me unsatisfied before, made a comeback. The brazil. The buttery Macadamian. ... The cashew fell by the wayside. The peanut was overshadowed years ago. 

Crunchie Oats. We've been through this.

Citrus french toast was created in Lubanzi, on a mountain perched over the sea. Fresh orange, dried fantasia

2012 has been promising yet not altogether . So far it has given me harira in a carpet shop. Prickly pears and amazing uttered under my breath. Chocolate cookies from a glass cookie jar sprinkled on top of Greek yoghurt and honey ice cream. Fresh figs from the tree.

Love is breaking pistachios for them.

2011 was the year of the sweetcorn sweet chilli frittata. It sizzled often, there in the pan. It was so simple, it never needed anything else. Consistently good; no other thing could better its pleasures.

Nuts

2012 has been promising yet . So far it has given me harira in a carpet shop. Prickly pears and amazing uttered under my breath. Chocolate cookies from a glass cookie jar sprinkled on top of Greek yoghurt and honey ice cream. Fresh figs from the tree.

Memorable Weekend Quotes.

"You put a hat on a penis, you've got a joke. 
  A penis is a comedy, a vagina is a drama." - Morne.

This is a special (late) addition of Weekend Quotes. 
This quote occurred on the third of December and just got lost in life and time. 
But it was too good to be forgotten and will forever live in my heart.

It's the last day of the year.