Friday, April 13, 2007
this is the end (you tube link to doors song i hope)
what began in sympathy for an iraqi guy with something to say,
became a place for me to vent my frustrations, fears and general antipathy towards the vague forces in my life gently fluttering me with butterfly's wings,
in turn a place to share fears, ideals, goals, and yes, more frustration, with other blogosphere members.
at first i was confused, when other, much more interesting, blogospheres began to dry up. hot water, arm-the-insane, hooch, she sells sanctuary (kinda comes and goes), house husband, the mighty 85 george st, celestial blue, ms cynic, riverbend ... line of contempt still updates infrequently, and Caz and Hack of the spin starts here, the queen and king of snark, have pretty much finished up. (there's more, but i have the attention span of a goldfish and the memory of an etch-a-sketch at a disco)
but i'm kinda over it. i have another blog, which i used to update infrequently with trip photos and diary notes which family members and friends could read, but i update that even less frequently than this.
my little world has changed, again, without me even noticing. i don't know where i go next. it's not even that friends and family know where this is, so i can't share the deepest, most needed to be vented, cloudy thoughts. such is life.
change is the only constant.
i definitely, probably, maybe, won't post again. you never know.
if you have a burning desire to say g'day, exchange emails, catch up and stuff, then please leave a comment with an email addr so i can contact you, the email addr in my "about" thingy probably works though. Dirk, i'd love to hear how things are going in vietnam, Hooch, in siddely, and the myriad of other people who's lives are so cool and linked in my list of stuff.
i'll still come here, mostly because my daily list of comics is on the right, and i'm too lazy to put another list elsewhere.
be good, or be good at it. avagoodone groovers. life is to strange to stay the same
for some reason, i feel compelled to post the only bit of poetry i ever wrote that wasn't a limerick. don't care if you like it or hate it. nighty night
I stand and watch the beach,
the slow, booming surf,
a man walks out the ramp,
we greet as he passes,
balancing his malibu on his head,
he stands and considers.
I stand and watch the surf,
breaking slowly and magically,
it seems so small,
yet beckons so strong,
come to me it says, relentlessly.
I sit and watch the surf,
astride my surfboard waiting,
the sets come in,
they pass me by,
glassy and with power.
The rain pocks the glassy surface,
quietly hissing between the sets,
the grey skies,
the slight offshore breeze,
the spray hitting the surface,
behind the passing wave.
I stand and watch the surf,
the long left hand break,
trying to stay with the wave,
my surfboard at my feet.
I fumble and I fall,
yet the smooth surf carries on,
slowly, effortlessly,
no fuss and no pause.
I stand and watch the surf.
what began in sympathy for an iraqi guy with something to say,
became a place for me to vent my frustrations, fears and general antipathy towards the vague forces in my life gently fluttering me with butterfly's wings,
in turn a place to share fears, ideals, goals, and yes, more frustration, with other blogosphere members.
at first i was confused, when other, much more interesting, blogospheres began to dry up. hot water, arm-the-insane, hooch, she sells sanctuary (kinda comes and goes), house husband, the mighty 85 george st, celestial blue, ms cynic, riverbend ... line of contempt still updates infrequently, and Caz and Hack of the spin starts here, the queen and king of snark, have pretty much finished up. (there's more, but i have the attention span of a goldfish and the memory of an etch-a-sketch at a disco)
but i'm kinda over it. i have another blog, which i used to update infrequently with trip photos and diary notes which family members and friends could read, but i update that even less frequently than this.
my little world has changed, again, without me even noticing. i don't know where i go next. it's not even that friends and family know where this is, so i can't share the deepest, most needed to be vented, cloudy thoughts. such is life.
change is the only constant.
i definitely, probably, maybe, won't post again. you never know.
if you have a burning desire to say g'day, exchange emails, catch up and stuff, then please leave a comment with an email addr so i can contact you, the email addr in my "about" thingy probably works though. Dirk, i'd love to hear how things are going in vietnam, Hooch, in siddely, and the myriad of other people who's lives are so cool and linked in my list of stuff.
i'll still come here, mostly because my daily list of comics is on the right, and i'm too lazy to put another list elsewhere.
be good, or be good at it. avagoodone groovers. life is to strange to stay the same
for some reason, i feel compelled to post the only bit of poetry i ever wrote that wasn't a limerick. don't care if you like it or hate it. nighty night
I stand and watch the beach,
the slow, booming surf,
a man walks out the ramp,
we greet as he passes,
balancing his malibu on his head,
he stands and considers.
I stand and watch the surf,
breaking slowly and magically,
it seems so small,
yet beckons so strong,
come to me it says, relentlessly.
I sit and watch the surf,
astride my surfboard waiting,
the sets come in,
they pass me by,
glassy and with power.
The rain pocks the glassy surface,
quietly hissing between the sets,
the grey skies,
the slight offshore breeze,
the spray hitting the surface,
behind the passing wave.
I stand and watch the surf,
the long left hand break,
trying to stay with the wave,
my surfboard at my feet.
I fumble and I fall,
yet the smooth surf carries on,
slowly, effortlessly,
no fuss and no pause.
I stand and watch the surf.
