try to smoke alone

so im single again..

SOMETIMES ALL THE MOMENTS
THAT WE SAVOURED FOR THE LAST
GET CRUSHED BETWEEN THE GOOD AND BAD
FROM PRESSURES WE HAVE HAD

BUT YOU KNOW I CAN'T CONCEIVE THE DAY
WHEN FEELINGS RUN TOO HIGH
TO WORK OUT ALL THE STALE TERRAIN
EMOTIONS TRY TO HIDE, WHEN I TRY

LATELY I CAN'T SEEM TO COLOUR WHAT WE'VE LOST
IT ALL SEEMS LIKE BAD MEANS
WHEN LOVERS TURN FROM LUST
THEN I TRY, TRY TO SMOKE ALONE

THESE SHATTERED TIES WITH NO COMPROMISE
FALL THROUGH THIS FRAGILE HELL
THE DRINKS STAY SIPPED 'COS WE'VE LOST OUR GRIP
TOO EXHAUSTED TO REBEL

lately, skunk anansie

fair go

I flick through the paper to see whats in the news. The death of a croc hunter makes the front page. I homosexual scandal in NZ is also given a mention. A full page is devoted to a sale at Myer. In other lesser news a military coup has occured in thai land.

There is an arguement over getting newbies to the country agree to australian values - such as having a 'fair go'. They dont really explain what it means, what having a 'fair go' entails. I suspect because if they did they might find that the idea's of potentail & equality, of giving people a chance & equal footing is not so inately Australian. Nationalism is only ever surface.

There is no depth.

Depth is the enemy of the cultural artifact. If packaging increases sales of commodities by anywhere as much as 300% we can safely say people perfer to buy packaging over commodity. Nationalism is a commodity.

If we ask people to buy into the idea of a 'fair go', were not really asking them to buy into the concepts behind it. Were just demanding that they say it our [sic] way.

techno geek

I know that i really shouldnt get all excited, & its probably very telling that i do, but yeah new technology just pushes my buttons.

j.s.

its as if it was all a big jig saw puzzle. Time stopped & this world pulled apart. The pieces scattered onto the floor. Its my job to put it back together. One by one i pick them up. One by one i make things whole. Each time i get a little closser to that primal scene. One & one & one. I'm close to complete. Breath bites & heart skips. One piece is missing. A small gap on the board. A blank in this world. A piece is missing. The one that reveals it all. The piece that depicts your mind.

Im denied satisfaction. There is no completion. I'm left un-content. Dare i say - I have no piece of mind. You hide the jig in your hand. You can be so cruel sometimes.

I know what the piece should look like, its colours, its contours. Its tale of dark betrayals, & deep passions. A tilted face & soft smile. Hell, i can even turn over the box to see a blur of what that piece should look like. But its a different thing to hold the piece. Different completely.

'oh how cruel - to make a girl cry.'

indy media

its been a while since ive checked out indy-media, ut it seems somewhere down the line they got a faced lift. The site is alot more user friendly now :) & still the best source for factual information. Best of all you can make the 'news' yourself!!


on a tangent...

....it occurs to me that if the role of the journalist is to report facts - to log an account - to submit a journal entry, then who or what is a journalist in the age of the internet? where investigations are not nessacarily as time consuming or resource exhausting. Where the world is progressively dematerialising itself?

Maybe the hyperlink is the essence of journalism today - delivering you the facts in an instant. Perhaps the degree & diversity as well as destination of those links is what should be the judge of the journalistic integrity of our society... mmm, just maybe

bikes & boys

a bit of an update post:

i have a brand new bike. Its yellow. I think i love it, its kinda just what i wanted. Cute, practical,environmentally friendly, it wasnt too expensive, nor was it cheap. Trigger gears & disc breaks. very modern. Best of all - its french! (remind me to post on 'cyclophilia' in future).

the bike i got yesterday. a little before i got the bike i got me self a man. So fer the rascals i see out & about - expect to meet him soon. Hes got a great smile, & many other good qualities im discovering. Hes read all of my blog entries already (which is adorable & yet un-nerving at the same time) so i guess he'll be reading this one too. Hi babe *pokes out tounge* (a tounge wave?!) Best of all - hes a slav! (Well a serb to be exact, & im croatian *shock, horror* - but is ok, we both follow the dictum 'make love, not war')

ciao bello babe

sorry for the delay

argh... sorry for the delay in posting - blogger now has a beta version that is linked to gmail/google, & for some reason it kept on signing me into the wrong account...

... but im here now. If i had been here sooner i would have posted on:

gay stuff, the odd boring update on life, clubbing excapades, eye candy at the gym, the importance of living an earnest life, my new facination with utube, oh - not to mention the hype around spider man 3, the horrors of www.allbadboys.com having failed to update recently, the evils of mass-mediated-politico-power, wolves, a recipie for making brownies, not to mention instructions for overthrowing the capitalist state, a continued appreciation for the sleepy jackson, a note on the presses insane stance on terrorism, existential coments on the nature of sudoku, & yeah other funky stuff

all written while drinking my dry white in one hand, typing with the other, blind to the spelling mistakes but open to the idea that words mean something more than a mere shuffled mimicary of the dictonary. Words may be words, but they may just also mean something too.

The Bart Simpson Show

well, U tube is a band wagon...

twitch

im in newcastle. i remind myself that im up here for business. A community housing confernece... but i cant seem to keep my mind on work. Im a anxious. Distraction isnt working. My computer is connected up wirelessly in the confines of a pub. The beer that i sip also offers no release.

Its as if ive forgotten something. im so desparate to remember. its as if i need something, but everything should be here. its not home sickness. i have only been here for a day...

maybe its existential - anxiety of the present self.. maybe psychoanalytical - anxiety of the impinging past. perhaps its not clinical. perhaps its justified. water. petrol. life & death. intollerable work & a dead culture that we all call our own.

i lament on the matter in absence of a cure. it is an end in itself.

Dream On

I have fallen for Luke Steele, from The Sleepy Jackson... oh yeah their music is good too.

warming up :)

so kooky is re-opening this friday. me thinks this clubbing season will have an early start, more prolonged rather than immediately intense.

Oh and as i discovered on the maquarie uni website:

Climate

The Australian climate ranges from tropical to temperate and Sydney has a temperate climate. The wettest months are March to May; the coldest month is July and the hottest months are January and February. The average rainfall is 1,200 millimetres per year. Average humidity is 62 per cent.

Summer (Dec-Feb) Max 28.5 Celsius Min 18.2 Celsius

Autumn (Mar-May) Max 22 Celsius Min 14.5 Celsius

Winter (Jun- Aug) Max 16.8 Celsius Min 8.6 Celsius

Spring (Sep- Nov) Max 21.7 Celsius Min 13.3 Celsius

Sydney has a mild climate that encourages Sydneysiders to enjoy many outdoor activities.


we are officially past the coldest month. YaY!!

travelling the world

i'm bitting my lip. i fills the time while i figure out what words to say. i look at him. he's so cute, that cute little nose, beautiful eyes, the hint of a few frekles... I just want say the right thing, not that there is a 'right' thing to say.

Serbian huh? Gez my parents would be furious *smirks*. I can see that you love to smile as much as i do. cute teeth, kissable lips. Though i must admit he talks alot - almost as much as i do. Darn competition, lol. Yeah... sooo, you're like... um... built?... grrrowl. makes me feel so meek. A strong spirit, analytical, thoughtfull, he speaks his heart. he excites mine.

i'm smiling babe, this night, this moment... its fantastic.

puppy dog's tails?

Arms arised. feet apart. bend my knees. My hands fall as i turn left. My face goes red. I've turned the wrong way. I turn the right way. as they say 'life's full of wrong turns...' i'm tempted to add that these turns are '...coupled with many an embarasing moments'.

Going to dance class is a frustrating thing. It really is starting from scratch. You learn set styles, to specific beats. Your feet & hands play different games as the music referee's. Dont matter what you could do before. Now there is only this. The trick is not so much learning to dance. It is learning to be taught. Learn the dicipline.

I remember a connection between mr foucault and dicipline. he showed how dicipline as the practice of correction, as the body of knowledge, and as the conditioning of the body all came together. I appreciate his words as i step, shuffle, march. body, knowledge, power. I soilder on.

I enjoy it. I like dancing with the additional classes of yoga and of course the gym. its a challenge. the good dancers inspire me. a shyness brought on from unfamiliarity is a hinderance slowly lifting. Gary mentions that 'its most difficult for you beacause you're not used to being taught, to restrictions. Your freestyle, this isn't' He places the emphasis on free. 'sometimes though you gotta take 2 steps back to go 3 forward'....

...and step 1, 2, 3



I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry
What could I do
My baby's love had gone
And left my baby blue
Nobody knew

What kind of magic spell to use
Slime and snails
Or puppy dogs' tails
Thunder or lightning
Then baby said
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Put that baby spell on me
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Put that magic jump on me
Slap that baby, make him free

I saw my baby, trying hard as babe could try
What could I do
My baby's fun had gone
And left my baby blue
Nobody knew

What kind of magic spell to use
Slime and snails
Or puppy dog's tails
Thunder or lightning
Then baby said
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Put that baby spell on me

what gay am i?

i think i answered in the positive too often...

You scored as The all-round cute gay guy. YOu are a cute guy who many would die to be with..........lucky!! The all-round cute gay guy 90% A Big Bear 70% Straight Acting 70% S + M guy 70% Raging Queer 70% Straight 10% Straight Queer Basher 0% What type of Gay are YOU? created with QuizFarm.com

deviate!

I wanted a quiet night. I could have done with cheap weekend. But some how... some bizzare act of fate it all went sideways. I deviated.

It started with dinner at Don & Andy's. A quiet dinner. A nice side of pork belly. A few glasses of wine. Maybe it was the pot smoking started the trouble. Or the little pash that found me a lift to manicle. Alas, whos to say?

A few beers at manicle, a chat with emma. A little dance & some flirting with the boys. Not too dramatic... till i found myself in the posession of a half price pill. As the sounds became hazy & my sight blurry, i suddenly couldn't tell if i was at manicle, or shift, or phoenix, or bent. I lost a nice t-shirt, and found myself in the company of unexpected aquaintances.

After leaving the home of some trade on sunday evening i met up with Will for a drink. A cask latter i crashed, getting enough sleep for an 8:30am start. I borrowed a cute shirt off Will.

I laid on my bed for most of monday evening, not sleeping first time home since saturday. Just lying there. My mind buzzing. Amiss from the weekend. 'ok, next weekend is really going to have to be a quiet one this time...'

family

Matthew & Paul are my younger brothers. Twin brothers. They've grown up so much. With their little tuff's of hair growing on their upper lip & broke-in voices. They're so cute & now taller than my sister! You cant see it in the pics, but they have rosy cheaks, that blush easily. Its so cute & sexy. (mental note: next boyfriend will have rosy cheaks).

I hadnt been home for a while & was happy to see them mature. I was happy that Teresa (my sister) was looking after them. Giving them love, in her own way. Teresa was lookin wogtastic herself.

Dad was nowhere to be seen. His absence has apparently become steadily more present within the house. The house itself is run down. In need of a fix. Half restored, half desroyed.

Joseph, my older brother, was withdrawn. Finding comfort in solace i guess.

Mother was... well, mother. She still doesnt leave the house. She is like the house. I miss her i guess, but i just cant seem to cry for her. I remember once talking to my sister about how in a way if she was dead things would be better than this. We could grieve then, instead of stuck in this limbo of emotional turmoil. I've lost my hope to see my mother again. I dont even know if i'd recognise her if she was with us.

Wait.

Maybe i would. I think i rember her laughing once. And she hugged me once. Read me stories from the bible before i went to sleep. Maybe i would... if it could happen...

Henri

Henri Bergson was born a jew, but over time grew sentimental towards the roman catholic faith. At the time (30's) jews were being persecuted. He chose to remain a jew to show his solidarity to their cause. When he died in 1941 a prayer was read out by a catholic priest, on his request.

to have compassion above faith is truly a blessed thing.

short term

babes gone. i new it would happen. the use by date was in clear view for all to see. it has happened. all those little chance encounters mean a little too much now. Its all thats there. Evenings into mornings, mornings into evenings. Prolonged departures are the template for all our joinings.

'yer a diver huh? well, dive in deep then'

just my luck. 'me' see 'you' go, never really an 'us' to cry about... but im still sad.

bye babe, enjoy the trip.

history of madness

Finally, its more than any little foucauldian could wish for. After reading all his major works, most of his minor works, & briskly attending his lectures, what could make me happier than the history of madness, in english!

This book was actually Foucaults doctorate thesis. It concerns the rise of madness in western society, or rather how one could come to be known as being 'mad'. Madness & Civillisation was the early version of this work. A book that was in need of a makeover. M&C was a translation of the abridged french version of Foucaults text. While the book gave some insight to his ideas, it was also a shocking piece of literature. References were deleted, translation whas poor & 80 pages vanished in the transition to english. The final verison of M&C was two fiths the size of the original.

I cant wait to read this book... *sigh*

game boy

the boys are out, & they're playing games. It can be in the form of a semantic challenge, or just a plain old polemic. Romantic lead-on's that end in cold dismmisals. Emotional manipulations are everywhere, in many different forms. Mind fucks seem to come by the dozen. Its always a case of you vs me. The game is taken so seriously and you play to win. Its a war baby, but what you fail to see is that like all wars no one ever wins.