Thought about buying business cards.
Feeling tired.

Conbeanience.

BÆCON

Had my first drink for the year.
It was great, brought the party.
Smoke van,
Limb tree
Car fires
Mad chats
Dance moves
DJ sets.
The strange
Fun loving
And bogans.

Dark MoFo,is something else.
Went home with El.
It was lovely, not sure how to play that.
Gaurding my heart.

When they ask you how well your socks breathe and you tell them to mind their own business.

Falling asleep in the library to DR Seuss.

Done with exams.
I thought for something bigger.
I expected more self worth and celebrations.

Tomorrow I presume.
Work early tomorrow,
driving, food, Preachers (dream girl singer),
then blacklist party. Should be rad.
RAD RAD RAD.

At too many pears today,
a fair bit of time spent on the toilet.
Looking forward to the months off.
I can spend some time exercising/my diet.

Hung out with wogboy.
Drank some coffee, saw sam.

I wanna watch that documentary ‘The Sugar Film’
I sat infront of the fire,
Organised my Dark MoFo,
saw Sol and Jaz.
Watched a film on Gay Junkies.
Kept El waiting, missed her.

Home now, tomorrow brings all kinds of new and beautiful things.

Excited.

I needed to be more tactical.
Recently I was studying in the library,
I looked down, noticing that the bottom button in my fly was undone.
The buttons either side of it were done up;
I tried subtley to correct the situation to no avail.
Without hesitation I undid the buttons to correct the broken link in the chain
That makes up the button up fly of my pants.
“Hmmmm tartan underpants, nice choice” i thougt to myself.

At this precise moment, me in. My booth, in the uni, alone and having just unbuttoned my pants to make adjustments a young girl stands up and walks past me. She glances,
Her eyes bulge! She statues her gaze forward.
-I see her train of thought, the pervertedness in misunderstanding.
I cringed, laughed unsuredly and waited for any hilarious repercussions.
There were none really.
But I do wonder what went through her mind.
I should be more considerate and show more tact next time.

Public Holiday.
Called TIM wished him a happy birthday.
PHISH – not afraid to write his own work.
Spelling errors and all. No technology, full expression.
Not proofed. Just done. Genius.

Watch a thing online with EL.
A guy, really good at voilin. Totally emmerssed.
Feel strange.
Wanted to punch the walls until my hands bled.
What a strange feeling to have.
Jogged.
Climbed the metal structure ovee thr road.
Snapped at mum
Studied poetry 101.
No shame.
It rained, I saw milly,
I ate alot of chashew.
Then I ate to make myself sick

I lay still for a while.
Waited until I could eat again.
Then I filled up on delicious curry.
Feel sick, the human body is amazing.
Farted alot.
Broke a rubberband.

Rode to the city, howling in the rain.
Pulled up next to the Belfry thing.
Ditched the bike, jumped a fence and stole 4 apple.
The rain came down.

Work tomorrow.
Life.
Drip, Drip Drip

Strange old day today.
Woke up after a great night’s sleep.
Got ready to study,
Left the house.

Popped by the market on my way to study,
Bumped into friends.
Got a phone call,
Made plans for later with both caller and physical friends.
Bumped into acquaintences.
Further introduction.
Met up with friends pre-call.
Bought some women’s clothes.
Had fancy tea,
Thought critically towards my ideology of toilet logic.

Got quiet.
Felt angry.
Developed an anxious undertone.
“Moody”

Went home,
Burnt my mouth on soup,
Listened to Jodi Mitchell or someone with mum.
Played some cards,
Theorised over some poetry.

Burnt my mouth on corn.
Made a curry, burnt my mouth on curry.
Wrote down my ideas about Toilet Etiquette.

Eloise got me a ticket to a gig I really wanted to see.
She says I have to write an article for her, so sweet.
Went for a blitz around south hobart.
Ate some apples, looked at the bright lights.

ETTIQUETTE: Which ‘T’ is incorrect; the first, the second, the third of the fourth?

Tried a new fruit today. It was “floury”.
Also thought deeply about how people are ashamed of things.
Like spelling. Like speaking.
Practice, and don’t be ashamed.

Passed you by,
Those passing colours,
Mindset of why
Everything just blurs.

Head down,
A cough,
And frown
Sounds soft

Brains caged,
Wound uptight
Everyone’s aged
Foresight’s sigh.

The stressor
The reward,
Life’s short.
Cliche’s applaud.

(I wanted to delete below)
Painless death,
Death by sword.
Lessen my bored-OM.
Take a yoga class.

OM free me.
Take a bath
Relax in tee-tree.
By the hearth.

(blah, short attention span)

Ate alot of apples.
I worry that in my hear my thoughts can sometimes be grim.
Gotta surround myself with positive people,
Chill night in tonight.
I ate alot of apples.
She’ll be apples.

SHE.
Her.
Invite her round, see her.
Life’s too short.

Making plans, drinking tea. Relaxing.
My cousin is looking well, we went for a jog today.
I’m excited for MOFO.

Readin and relaxing at the moment.
I want to be passionate about poetry.

I will learn now.

Ta

Started my day,
Shorts on, little workout.
Out the door!

Damn thee legs month!
Tonight is the TSO, pumped.
Frost on the road. A bike riders nightmare.

I did not admire,
Cold sweats did I perspire.
Wished I be infront home’s fire.

Work was busy,
Breakfast skipped.
Then came lunch.

Caught up with Tilde,
From melbourne she came.
I double dipped,

Food food food.
Zany and wild,
Talk of Art and the toilet.

Then to buy a chook,
Where life then took-
A hazardous turn.

A turn for the worse.
Lisa’s husband diagnosed,
With cancer.

So I ate my chicken,
Pesto, red and green.
I thought what I should have said.

I thought of what could have been.
I dreamed of health.
Wealth spent on food o’ so lean.

I returned home,
Asked mum what did it all mean?
Mum is delicate,

She choked on her words,
Close to tears she said something
Incoherent, her eyes brimmed.

Tears welled up,
She rushed from the room.
Give peace, give love, give money.

I laughed at that.
Poor fragile soul,
She was cooked as my chook.

Now I sit, happy Buddha stomach,
Pensive, restless, anxious.
My afternoon missmatch,

The study plan out the door.
I saw Tilde,
And will see Elouise before night.

Will I be tired?
Have I wasted today?
Working and such, for minuscule pay.

Tonight I’ll run,
Run away like my day.
Today, like every single one-

Of yesterday’s days.
Fade and …

And thats it.

You start each moment anew.

Stop.

But you don’t stop, that’s impossible. You hurtle through moments. Each moment a landmine goes off. You start afresh.
You respawn. Each moment is influenced by the moment adjacent to it. The last instant I was writing, so now i’m still writing. My flow is the same beacause i’m on a roll. The snowball effect of the last instance, the weight of the moment rolling through, don’t contemplate! Don’t even think! Roll on, into the next and the next and the next and the next.

This moment. Fresh.

SPACES IN BETWEEN.

The taste in my mouth, the ache in my belly. Today’s newspaper, its relevance? Yesterdays snowball. To pick up and throw and whomever you please. To fall to the ground, scrape up your knees.

The alcohol consumed, riddles your brain. Later you think, that you wont feel the pain.

But it fills you up, not delt with, unchanged. Like a diaper of shit, the smears and the stains.

The road map you wrote,
the feelings you felt-
as you rushed from the room.

Your emotions they float.
reeling, I feel dirty with guilt.
To soon, too much to vast.

Were they fake?
Do I comfort? Are all my hugs used up?
Where is the pity, where is the help?

My stomach aches.
Yestermoment remorse.
I wish I was free of it

A happy divorce!
Unfortunately not so,
Be there a horse for this course?

Perhaps i’m talking shit,
What would I know about it.
The majesty and magic of a unicorn in need.

Alas i’m fumbling,
scrambling indeed.
Time to study,

Be learned,
Change who I am.
Become an adult.

Take myself seriously.
Build a cloak around myself.
Don’t be witnessed in the sand-pit.

Be an adult!
Choose and be occupied,
Clean up that shit.

Again i’d rather think,
nothing now’s connected.
The dots and my learning

Aren’t directly related.
Heirs of this.
And airs of that.

Wrap them about yourself
Crap on, like your bookshelf.
Measure your self worth.

Count your thing,
If you feel that it brings.
You back down to earth.

Fly on your swing.
Back, up and forward.
The moments in life aren’t related.

You’re just swinging.
Swing, swing, swinging your thing.
Heirs and airs are fated.

Pass on what you’ve seen
Now that you’ve mated.
Know where you’ve been

You’re here now, at the end
From where you’ve come.
Somehow, forward-

Somehow,
Pass on the the future.

Each moment, was now.

Lisa, I pray that your loved one survives cancer. Bad things happening to good people.
I covet my heart, lest it break. There is no justice. Rage against it or be at peace.
In our hearts and in our minds we pray.

Woke up early,
did my little exercise routine.
Had rockmelon,
Rode to work –
It was so cold tears streamed down my face.
Coffee machine was leaking.

11 o’clock I had a prac exam.
Zero study, just wanted to get my bearings.
Help me decide and all that.
Rode there, got it done.
Rode home,
Little exercise routine.
Studied, Ate, drank tea.
Went for a long jog.
Opened up my brain to hare-ing downhill.
What’s the worst that could happen.
Run, feel free.

Read over Drive’s seat,
Lay down for 10.
Went to work for 2 hours.
Then home to dinner.
I ate half a cake.
I disgust myself.
But my big brain was getting cloudy.
So food was needed

Awake at 5.30. Bed at 11.30.
What a day.