Ever since I was young I’ve always said to people, when I advise them on something, I would often close with “…said the sheep to the cow”.
Tonight I did what I always do nowadays and stopped myself.
“Hey man trust me, we can cross the road (…….)”
I thought it. But I didn’t say it.

Then I decided to truly think about what it was I say, and WHY.
I always figured it was a Playschool or maybe Sesame Street reference?
Perhaps a book I read as a kid. “Said the sheep to the cow” -sounds like quite a title.

So I did the obvious thing and thought about what i’d just said, followed by what I wanted to say and the circumstances usually surrounding my weird impulsive slip of the tongue.
“C’mon dude we can cross the road” “BAAAAAA-MOOOO”
Bad Move? “BAA MOO”?
Surely there is some inherent genius hiding away in this something cockney-rhming-slang-esque.
Get sherlock holmes or shakespear on the phone. The levels. Oh the levels.
Then I laughed to the stars because in my own world for a moment I’d displayed enough of a
glimmer to be a genius and I thought to myself. “There are billions of people out there, most of whom I wont get to meet; each with their own spark, their own glimmer of something smart, superb and special”. Sad eventuation i’ll admit, but hopeful in the sense that I truly believe  everyone has that bit of magic in themselves, if only to surprise and find joy from their own mind.

I saw a comedy tonight with some friends.
It was grande. It was Birdman and Egg. Quite a talented show. All in all.
No spoilers here.

I made jokes in the break, just to my close friends.
Why doesn’t Elton John like lettuce?
Because… He’s more of a ROCKET MAAAAN!
Waaaay.

Then I got ambitious and dropped some knowledge about the world being your oyster.
“So the world’s your oyster is it?” Pretty random stand alone statement…
So you only like it when you’re older?
Its an acquired taste?
Better with… LEMON? What kind of -ade are you making now?
The world is unique in flavour? And slippery?
Do I chew on this “oyster”?
The world should be taken with a grain of salt?
Too philosophical?
Back in my shell?
SHUCKS

The world is my oyster…

I am an ant.

What happens now?
Don’t say it out loud.
Say nothing at all.
not one god damn fucking thing.
Your voice is a crime.
Worse.
Listen to the world, the world you are-
if actual fact: very much a-part.
a part?
A light
A circuit
A plug
A switch.
A germ
Trying too hard?
Or not trying hard enough
Making people envy you,
causing ripples? Treading softly?
Who is aware of you?
Nothing.
This degree saps me,
These degrees of separation
The degree of my ignorance,
My state of mind,
Lack of understanding,
Emotions.
Energy firewalled.
The belly, desire.
My youth eeps.
The drying cement,
Just a brick in the building of a step.
In which direction?
I DONT FUCKING KNOW.

My torn, makeshift, unwelcome, disposition.
ragged beneath my flesh.
Giant moths, worms and spiders eat away at me.
My eye balls once wooden
now swelled, unblinking, wet with a gloss.
Reflecting the world
Streams of tears ripped from my chin by the gravity,
Ground’s eager greeting,
to smash of these man made droplets.
Undefining you.
Your worth
Claiming your feelings,
You are not the salt of the earth.
Such offering is sand to Jupiter.
Time will claim it all back.
Save your vengeful thoughts.
Your mind, if you’re lucky will be the last thing you surrender.
If I surrender mine think no less of me.

Am I doing what I enjoy?
How can I measure that against other things I could do?

I could not do what i’m doing, and just surf for the rest of my life.

Get outside your house and look back inside.
Home spun philosophy.

The great thought though.
The great thought!
“The Author is Dead”

No, no no. This isn’t a cry for help.
Its just that while an author is alive,
the welcome ambiguity humanity revel in
when the creator isn’t around to tell us “the point”,
We lap it up. We come up with our own opinions.

WE create as a people, a great body of opinion.
We share, we view things differently, we OVERANALYSE.
Given enough time, an idea can rocket from almost nothing-
into the most poignant, relevant, life affirming, creative thing on the face of the earth.

Let us
Fence with four syllable words!
But know
People have different social levels.

absolute

GLASS GLOVE, RELEASE
FROM THIS
COMMON
SO!!! COMON. FEELING
OH, THE
CLUTCH
YES…
LIPS PEEL BACK.
FLESH, OF
FRENZIED FIRE.
RABID.
RABID THE ROT
ROT IN-
HEAD AND HEART.

Feeling a bit full at the moment.
Ate a touch too much.
Had a great chat with an aspiring dietician.
Coffee, Asthma, Digestion, Depression.

I’ve been flushed today. Not sure what that’s all about,
didn’t even get any sun.
Dad came home with more energy that the rest of the family combined;
which was a laugh. I think he ate too much food and just piqued right out.

It’s getting colder and colder, as the year rolls ever closer to the winter month.
Really not looking forward to it.

A Winter’s Poem

A clever creature is the snake,
Who spends his winter not awake;
He snuggles in his long thin bed
And brews up poison in his head.

The human is a different sort;
He spends the winter watching sport;
He yells abuse in concrete stands
And empties out his poison glands.

I should say, nothing amazing.
No great expectation. Just a lovely little Leunig poem.
It rhymes and it makes me think of England.

So much to do!
Life is short and today’s achievements barely recognised on the grande scale.
What’s the point, strike me down.

But no! A jog, a belly full of food, chit-chat with a friend and a black coffee the world can sometimes just roll over. And it has done just that. Today was my oyster, and though I may not have enjoyed all this in my younger years: -like oysters- my acquired tastes were in for a treat.

I’ve listed all that is required of me over the next few weeks. French study is prominent over the next few days that’s for sure.

Guess i’ll get back to it. No great ideas, no poetry. JUST mundane catchups with friends etc.
I do worry that I drink too much fizzy drink. Sugar, Sugar, Sugar. (no booze at a pup is tough)

This I will need to address in the coming months. Alcohol is bad, more than a pint of fizzy is bad. I’ll check it out and get back to you.

I’d like to give blood sometime soon. That would be nice. Maybe on my days off if i’m not too busy studying. Then i’ll get a blood test, make sure i’m all good in the hood.

Here’s some Yeats. Comin’ up.

I watched Game of Thrones tonight, just 1 episode.
But television is bland, so we’re all on the same level there.

Paudeen
Indignant at the fumbling wits, the obscure spite
Of our old Paudeen in his shop, I stumbled blind
Among the stones and thorn-trees, under morning light;
Until a curlew cried and in the luminous wind
A curlew answered; and suddenly thereupon I though
That on the lonely height where all are in God’s eye,
There cannot be, confusion of our sound forgot,
A single soul that lacks a sweet crystalline cry.

Been the Melbourne and back!
Flight out, flying with Virgin. Sprite and a pack of nuts. What a dream.
6.20 flight means the sunset was off starboard. It was a glorious glow.
Full sky rainbow. Red on the horizon, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.
I ate dutch licorice and just soaked it in.

Landed in Melbs, played table tennis, talked some shash and went clubbing.
REVS to the death, the lights came on dancing continued, girls girls girls.
We went to the park with a small crew. One girl in particular Lilly(?) was awesome.
Then we hit the cafe, had some free coffee and sat back, digging life.
My sister and I were in town at the same time so she dropped by. I was 100% somehow,
functioning on another level to everyone else.
Tim Calabria jokes, star jumps.

The guy in the Red Hilux experience [nearly kills me reversing onto the kerb, leans out his window and says]: “where the pussy at”.
He got me good.

Laughter all round.

Then to the beach! I ate a cucumber and an apple and a gross banana.
Had a virgin mary from galleon – St Kilda beach, doing good.
Saw Jon, got some more free coffee (I’m royalty haha)
Then walked to Brunswick. Kaito catch up [he’s doing really well]
And finally Masters for a small pool tourney. Which I won. *so cooked, got a lift home to bed, via a burger and some chips. Collapsed.

Party last night. Made a friend or 2, chatted some shit, boogied. Raised the eyebrow at Tim Parrot. He can get nothing from me from this point on. If you aren’t even going to try, you can fuck yourself. Cool dudes break bottles, as he did.

Sleep in Sunday. And here we are.
Study Study.

Walking up
Walking down
Stairs.
Learning is easy as stairs.

I wonder if more people,
die in OR out of hospital.

If I had a wish.
I’d unsmooth every rock.
Give the ocean and its waves-
something else to do.

What was that my good man?
“Bonhomie” – Friendly, well mannered, genial, Frank.

“frank?”
Not Franklin.
Frank, Frank, Frank.

No football. What now?
I feel like my body will start to break down if I don’t have a focus, a sport, a passion, a release.
I asked a friend; he suggested wheelchair basketball. Funny.

Testosterone levels are highest during the morning. Fancy that.

I wonder at a personal level how mine are, after a year of no real competitive sports.

Hours and hours and hours spent getting from one destination to another.
Camping, holiday homing, a chocolate from mum, a lesson in music from dad and
a whole lot of road passed under tread. Time for thinking, reading too.
Home to bad news which was no good. But life IS this way. It will all work out. Which is to say i’m feeling better.

“He laughed the loudest who’d have known.”

Some quotes and thoughts in form. Unabashed and strictly as they come to mind:

“A yawn is a silent scream for coffee.”

“Its time to leave. I’ll be your Adam, if you’ll be my Eve”

“Next time you go to the hospital just be careful, people die there all the time.”

In answer to your question… FACETATTS. (I wish I didn’t ask)

The Bay of Fires , what a farce. What a flop.