I heard them say it.
So many times in the library.
“wrecked”. Like the key to unlocking a dialect.
Some brand of jock, jargon.
I do’t know why it rubbed my the wrong way so much.

Jog today, followed by a kick in the sun, a pie, boulder stories,
a drive, a beer tasting, tandoori chicken, steak and family stories.
All in all a good laugh. Went for a walk with my sister.
Talk about owning a dog.

Need to organise Tuesday night dinner.
Other than that. It’s all good.

So i’ve got a big week coming up and I shouldn’t be wasting my mornings, afternoons…
OR nights.
What is a wasted night.
Wasted is what I was yesterday?
I wanted to vibrate.
Twinkle in my eye, shake shuffle and shout at the moon.
Instead I just shouted at my friend and his bland girlfriend.
Every person is interesting. Each with their own story. Experiences.
Potential. Stories, laughs, good times.
Tonight I got a bottle of Pepik from work.
Joseph Chromey. Not bad. Dark chocolate.
Got philosophical “as the bottle dictated”.
Might have scared Rhys and Gen a bit. I think Gen is really smart. So is Rhys.
But the more time I spend with them the more I feel out of my element.
I’m loosing my shine.
Everyone else is sick. What a fucking let down. Nobody is strong like me.
Pushing though. “How many Saturday’s are there in a year”.

Why even say that. Here I am blogging, back in my boring fucking world.
Is there a point to this? Cop out baby teenage, whine over wine, existential.
Whaaaa.
Next week will be grande.
Kick tomorrow.
PAN- is out. Should be great fun, I do love the movies.
What is the fear of society? Each person on their very own special mission.
No staying in doors today.
I’m going to get Rhys’ curtains. That will be LAVISH.

People laughing politely.
Its super strange. “I didn’t hear you so i’ll just laugh”. So odd.
I am aware of it. I wonder what it is. What it spurs from. Is it a female trait?
Is it empathy?

Movies to see, books to read.
Time to myself.
Time alone.
No reply from the people i’d like to see.
Words forming in my mind.
But i’m not quick, motivate or sharp.
Impressing nobody with my intellect.
I sit quietly (SO UNLIKE YOU PATRICK)
Fuck off. You don’t know me.
I smile, evil. The whites of my eyes, glowing yellow lamps.
I am poison. Poisoned from lack of sleep and silence.
Idiocy bubbling away in my brain.
Sense and sensible at odds with each-other.
I test you. My silence, a black silk sheet over everything I can see, hear or potentially touch.
I am alone. I couldn’t share with anyone.
Spread your legs.
How else do people communicate. Don’t externalise yourself.
Drain your emotion, the bubbling feelings, needs and wants.
Your content tired, bent form. Let your eyes roll into your skull.
You’ve laid me.
We’ve laid together. Shared all that we could, succinct as we’ll ever be.
Now what? What next. I have the rest of my life, no purpose.
Shall I make it last as long as I can?
Find another set of pillars?
I am a pillock for thinking.
Crossing at the lights. You in a rush, a rush to be gone from my side.
What have I spent my life achieving up until now. Are you satisfied?
What did we both expect. This couldn’t last forever.
I’m old now, wrinkled, jaded.

But half a moon.
Not in the mood.
Crescent glow, but revealed is but some.
The glint has faded.
Our halo is off.
We aren’t free anymore,
We soak into the sheets.
Expunged.
Exhausted with life’s thoes.
Call me back to before we did all this.
When I was lost,
Energetic and glint.
take upon these shoulders the pressures of it all.
You won’t see me laugh,
NO. I stress.
Never will you catch my sympa.
If you get it out of me.
Its real.
We were real.
but now i’m a bleached and ghostly version.
No longer a virgin.
This procrastination.
The spread, the waste.
Time, thought, feelings.
Drained. Cactus. This cold.
A shiver, cold chains rest on my pockered flesh.
Goose.
Traverse the days and nights.
Alone I’ll stay. Cross legged.
Spouting bullshit.
Do you understand? Can you relate?
Hold me. Please.
Shivver in my company. Clammy, and crying.
Snot ridder, snivelling, wanting more.
needing less.
These needling thoughts pricking my mind.
Turning me into a prick.
Horrible, ungreatful.
Whine.
Wine and wane.
Gone from you, the warmth.
My ideal. The touch of my soft hands.
The back of my knuckles on your cheeks.
the jokes I didn’t tell.
Retribution.
The altered state of your laughter.
Remembered? But when!
Vibrate. Let your mind resonate, encapsulate those special moods.
The magical moments when all from the past is remind!
Dredged up. Pete and all.
Classic”, the girl you didn’t kiss. Because you’ve got to ride your bike.
The accents. The interpretations. The jests and the fun.
All for nothing if you don’t share.
Don’t reply, never repeat yourself.
Never ever repeat yourself.
Lie? Make the world your own.
Change your underpants.
Fly.

That plodding, sinking feeling.
The winding down.
The pang in the side

The hum and an squeeling.
Like the television
Has been left on.

Oh- my derailed mind.
The orange pips.
The pits of my sunken eyes.

Squeezed shut,
From pain on pain.
Rub and rub.

You can’t run or rub away.
The rabble of my mind.
The troup and troubles.

Cowbells.
Clanging, shop doors ringing.
Knocking and kicking.

BE CAREFUL WITH MY MIND.

Could I possibly,
sleep this off?
Could I rest from this unrest.

Arrest myself, into bed.
For the rest-
of tonight declined.

Reclined and inclined
to unwind the knot.
The knock knock… of my mind.

Help me.
Let me out.
So I might be free on the page.

But this spilt ink.
Tasteless, gutless, worthless.
Unplugged, spraying gushing.

“diarrhoea” “diarrhea”
I don’t know I am lost.
I want a rest. Longer than a day.
Sooner than a week.

Drown me in a bath of curry.
Laugh as you do it.
Shoot the book.
Fire the hot poker to my porkified skin.
Add salt to the wound.
Infect me no more, temples torn.
Blood ooze from my skull.
The my cranium be donate.
Forefeit!
Cast though the window of some museum.
Displayed for but a short time,
A night and the morning of a day.

Let me be discovered by Mathilde Lester.
Curator of here and or there.
Let me put my shoes on.

I should be elsewhere.
Let her visage crack.
Podium! Please.
Mount me on the wall.
Subconsious. Friend of mine.
Linked.
Smile, write the plaque.
Make it ironic.
Gold or silver, I care not for the font.

Brilliant.

I got a book from John Armstong.
In the dedication’s page, it looks like he’s giving it to someone for christmas.

I thought to myself
“I better look after this book, I should get a case for it”.

So I looked up bookcase. And immediately laughed at the word.

The light’s have faded.
The sun gone.
Clouds impose themselves.
And like this distorted brightness
My mood is fade.

Next year’s exchange idea is glumly hanging.
Floppish. Gnarled and limp.
I wish to travel, learn in an environment.
Live in a share house, be immersed in the French language.

Tough times for you Patrick
I guess you’ll have to be patient and focus a little harder.
Work a little more at your idea.
If you really wanted it you’d jump though hoops.

I do.
I will, I promise and guarantee.
Next year I want something different.
I want change.

I can’t commit to this face anymore.
This guise.
The exhaustion present under the lids of my eyes.
I wish to be lean,
Raw.
Naked and exhausted in bed.

Energised by new people.
Beat!
Digging life in a world of contrasting light.

I want new rocks under my feet.
I will the be germ that has travelled the globe.
To see and feel and experience.
Who are you to implicate these barriers?
I will triumph against your yellow tape of organisation.

The human condition;
To drive to new heights compels me.
You think only the olympics is for athletes?
I will high-jump,
Hurdle, sprint, slide, push and pull  myself to new and different ways of living.
This year is halfway done. each moment dividing itself.
And with the passing, my mind turns.

The obligation, the white-ness of my soul looks out over the seas and hopes.
“Tahiti blue”- you bet. I’m coming.
Its true.
I’m coming. I promise.
I guarantee.

Saw Mitch today.
Study was good.
Eating wayy too much at the moment.
Putting away money makes you fat I have decided.
Some kind of work/stress/time to yourself/time on your feet/imbalance.

I don’t know what it is.
I hate being tired.
I like being in a rush?
NO I DONT.
I dislike it.
I think having to talk is pathetic.
I think oversharing is cactus.
Bullshit, vomit.
I believe that speech has changed online.
We are  in a new age.
Have we changed so much?
Can this new generation have the intellectual and “modern” thinkers that we have had in the past?
Woolf drowned herself in a lake. Stones in the pocket.
My god!
Ugly. Shallow-ness.
What is suicide? Does it define us?
Does the possibility of suicide make us all potential existentialist?
In its consideration can the duality exist.
Can you change this condition?
Is there anyone out there that SHOULD commit suicide?
What are the circumstances?
When someone stops contributing to the world?
When they are a drain?
When the joy of their life is null.
The goal of life is happiness, is turned away from.

What does this piqued persona reveal.
Who are the victims of suicide?
Is it the flipping of a coin and rolling a zero?
Is the problem labelled by us, the same as it is in “their” mind?
Can our group think possibly influence their outcome?
Could all of us make the change?
Is suicide was an all-powerful threat…
If, therein human life was truly given ultimate worth.
What do WE do? How can we protect others, ourselves, and this person from this feeling of want, need and ultimate finality before their time.
Is the shutting down of someone’s operating mind, though physical execution a choice?
“BAD CHEMICALS”
The body feeds the mind, the mind tells the body what it wants.
Fresh fruit and vege. Meat. Salts, sugars, fats. You are what you eat.
Varied. Regulated. Consistent. Changing. Seasonal. Green. Yellow. Red. Blue. Liquid.
Snacks. Small. Inadequate. Whatever it may be. Your mind can kill you if you don’t treat your body right.
Your body can give up. Your body can break. Be careful in your mind. Be smart with your body.
Push limits. The limits of your mind. Your brain is a muscle; its complex and needs to be trained.
What can you train your brain to do? What can you get away with saying?

If you would like to be healthy.
If you would like to stay strong.
Choose and feed yourself.
Choose how you occupy your mind.
Feel the difference of your decisions.
Feel the different stages.
Be mindful of changes
Be aware of the demands of others.
Make the black and white calls.
Make your own experience.
Stay alive as long as your natural body allows.
Take advantage of this wonderful possibility.
Then compost.

Australian politics goes for the re-shuffle again.

French was fun today.
Felt strong, good looking, energised.

Then crashed. Rode home, knee was sore.
Ate and ate and ate.
Made rice pudding.
Tried to make plans.
Got organised. Looked for any drastic double booking/crossovers.
Safe.
The busy week starts now. I’m pretty cracked though.
Feel like energy is leaking outta my head.
How do I fix this.
Feeling fat.
Coma oncomming.
So much work, study, to be done.
My thoughts,
THOUGHTS
Not words, ideas, in form. Associations.
They may as well be colours.
They don’t exist in your head.
When you effect, or affect (who fucking knows)
a change, from your thoughts to reality you’re making a difference.
I get that.
But the associatioin of a word.
Makes for everything you say, to be ambigous.
I remember thinking that nothing is important.
The only way you can effect change is by actions and communication.
However, by abstaining from that train of thought you allow yourself to be free from want and need to enact change. Therefore clearing yourself,
your waking consious from the conceeded postmodern material efforts that surround us today.
Buy hermitting yourself socially you nullify any impact.
Could you perhaps, (be more true to yourself).
Live life how you would [normally].
and subtley effect the world around you?
What instigates change from the base to the superstructure?

Who allows for us to define times to modernity and postmodernity?
Could post modernity be simply materialist?
Was there really a crisis or “turning point” in representation?
With the modern world. Indeed just being another word for current.
And the current, having undergone change being accepted.
Then the norm having changed. Means that our stream of conscious collectively has re-aligned.
How can you define time as being different, ideas as being different, people fighting* (doing) different things. Just to be different. Being experimental.
People always have. That is the nature of our diverse species.
The urbanisation of people means that our busy lives and denoted towards comfort.
And comfort is a killer of outward creativity.
like nesting. The effects on the mind are like a shark having gorged itself on too much food.
There is a stasis, a docile quality – this content that everyone strives to achieve is barely recogniseable due to further natures within the humane persona. Enlivened by our own vague words. “Things” need doing. always.
Interpret how you will.
We are continuous. The brackets surrounding social life. And our own need to group and organise thoughts as they occur is a deep lying conceit of our own awareness.
We struggle to look inwards. Beyond the cover of our own book. We believe we have chapters.
We posit that the text is journalistic. Written by us, for us.
I think not. I think we are becomming more confused and have yet to attain a true picture of “where we are”.

If earth was a piece of coal.  How long will it take us and our ideas to transform our own realm into a diamond. Could it be that we never will and that our future rests in our own self immolation.

I rest my case by the door of the cafe. And hope there some answers and some interesting ideas to be scrabbled through in the not so distant future, before now is bracketed, and uncommunicably different, estranged and wild a thought. Bastardised and monacle’d over; right down the path.

Bianca Payne.
Enviable.
Organised. Something humanity does.
The proactive human condition. Co-ordinating movements and information.
She’s something else. She is number one for me. On the podium.
I admire so many things about her. Her drive, attitude and good nature.
Today was splendid.
Wayyy la-much sunshine.
Exhaustion.

Saw Bec.
Had black coffee.
Had a fresh OJ.

Saw Ben.
Talked opportunites.
Talked knees.

What is it with people showing phone videos?
What is it with snapchat, pictures?

Who wants to know?
Who cares?

Where is your poetic licence?
Where is the story telling, picture painting, all encompassing, moment capturing?

I shared my time saving idea.
I lost my words, but explained how humanity marks improvements.

Reading about modernism and the marked changes that have happened throughout its time period.

Is postmodernism just consumerism?

Is the grouping of these movements/marked changes just the human conditions furthermore organising and grouping? Like calling a group of people flappers or hipsters or scene kids or whatever?

Modernism, politics of sex and gender, modern living! Cars & Communication are updated. An observation of the human condition; undergoing great change. But time is continuous. What’s changed? Are we SO modern? That we become ‘post’ that. Post-modernity. Therefore, we can look back. Can we look inwards?

Can we look at ourselves in a glass case?
What does faulkner suggest? What does the dead woman represent? What do words mean? Are words inherently poetic? Does art offer an opportunity to represent a thing, that then changes either through word attachment and therefore change what the word means/ our own understanding?

Freud. Subconcious word association = WILD.
Read some heavingly heavy stuff today. Gotta reboot.

Wrote out the invitations for the party!
Gotta study more, and organise exchange and such. ZUG ZUG.

Tinder. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope.

Hung out with friends today in the sun.
Watched “The World’s End”. Simon Pegg, Nick Frost. Classic.
A little to think about. Dramatic change in movie style mid-way through.

Work this week,
See Bec Hart.
Hopefully catch up with Bianca Payne.
Gotta crunch out some Uni. My god I do.
Had the best kick in the sun today.
One touch game, Volley Game, 3 v 3.
Good times. Ate some fruit.
Bought some reisling and figs and cheese and almonds and dates.
lavish.
Played Cambio with Wil, Sol, Jaz. It was great.
Lots to think about and look forward to.
Positive headspace.

Where would I begin with you?
I hold you at arms length.
I cannot break down those doors.

Remembering when I kissed you,
-now you text me asking what more.
Its all changed, the calls different.
There is no longing, i’m content,

Most of the time, i’m happy.
Peaceful, pleasant to think quietly –
or otherwise, in the bustling.
Thinking my own thoughts.

Forced or fluid. Giving looks,
judging, applying what I see, think, hear and feel.
I wonder if fucking makes you stupid.
The stories, sicken me.
Contact, irrational.

You touch your leg, are you anxious?
I feel like it weirds me out a little.
There are others, I’m objectified.
I wonder what you say in your mind.
I give you blank stare, I spread gaze over you,
Not cool, not calculated or confident.
I am null. Inert. I do not add or subtract
I do exist, but I merely reside.
Why must I crack ice? I am not warm nor cool.
Though your fallen exterior smarts at my lack of movement.
Must I be the friction that melts all?
Should my breath be the warm air,
The addition that melts your heart.

Fuck.

I ride, I put in the effort.
I take on sugar, I ruin myself.
I worry, and miss what I should truly be doing.
I should be selfish. I am. Aren’t I?
Is this a tug of war?
Why cant I win?
Why is there this personality,
Does my persona change.
What are my clothes saying.
Their meaning: tonight.

I need to shower.
To rest, to get better.
I want love.
To sit cross legged, watch the pools of your eyes.
As you breathe in and out
As you dehydrate under the bright sun.
Your eyes twinkle and your minds turns.
Intricate or heavy handed. Thoughts in form.
Formed and spat, spouted, posited, mulled, chewwed,
regurgitated, torn, misaligned.
Share with me. Everything.
As your voice talks,
Your mind becomes unplugged and you reveal your turmoil and your bias and the conflict.
Within.
Show me.
Sit with me and share,

And in doing so. Love me.
And I will love you.
Us. Shared