A White Christmas

A White Christmas...

Let's all be merry and rejoice in our bizarre need to erect a fir tree inside our middle-class lounge-rooms, squeezed between the 7-foot plasma and the beige Jason Lazy-Boy dad got for Christmas last year. Get out the shiny plastic balls and flashing multi-coloured lights you would, at any other time of year, think were crass enough only for a chinese take-away shop or the window of the 'Sexy Nails' salon down the street. Sing songs about winter wonderlands and spray white powdery stuff out of cans on your window whilst sitting inside with the air-conditioning on sweltering over baking you do once a year that your kids don't even like anyway.

Have 28 people (most of whom you don't even like) over on one day, squished into your tiny lounge-room between the plasma, the recliner and now the tree, eating a roast large enough to feed the majority of Mozambique with leftovers for ham sandwiches from now until well into the following decade. It's 38 degrees, but don't take off the red fleecy hat with the pom pom on it, and make sure your dad or uncle (who is already sufficiently portly) stuffs a pillow up a big red suit, dons a manky white beard, and hands out presents with his non-beer-holding hand. Make sure all your normally conservative relatives have enough VB, Passion Pop or Lemon Ruskies to by this time be adequately sloshed so that they are overly enthusiastic about their love of the Jamie Oliver cook book you bought them that they will obviously never use. 

Watch them unwrap you lost mortgage payments, eat your month's pay cheque and drink what was left for the trip to bali...never mind, tomorrow you can all get in a caravan and go some place just as mediocre as your middle-class christmassy joy and basque in the merriment of your warped concept of what christmas is all about.

Merry Christmas!

Don't forget your raincoat with reindeers on it (who came up with that reindeer crap anyway?) xx

"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion."
- Albert Camus


You're about as original as your fake tan and as creative as your lame attempt at a half-baked fringe. You're about as confident in yourself as you are that your dress didn't come from a sweatshop and as socially functional as your seven-hundred-and-eighty-sixth facebook friend. You whole-heartedly believe 'like' is an acceptable sentence component, alcohol isn't a drug because it tastes sweet, and you live in a 'free country'. 


The silent 'h' in your name is nothing compared to the phonetically retarded way your going to spell your baby's name, and the fact that you're surname's hyphenated only shows what a true feminist your are of course. Men have no right to treat you as an object in that excuse for a dress unless they sponsor your vodka-rasberry fund, no better make that vodka-soda because it really matters when you get wasted and inhale three cheeseburgers.


You vote because you have to, you get excited about the amount of tax you got back and you sponsor a kid in Africa because...well you're not really sure. You're about as free as your parking and as aware as your pet goldfish that you're swimming in a glass bowl blissfully happy at the freedom you have to choose clockwise or anti-clockwise circles.

Who am I if I'm not what you call me. If I'm not the answer to my name. Not what I am in comparison to you. Not what you mean when you say 'you'.

Is there a me without a you or a here without a there? Can I answer if you don't ask me? The rain's real but are my tears?

Tell me something and I'll believe what I hear, is that what you said? I made you smile, I'm sure I did, I think, perhaps.

Pinch me if it's real but if it isn't tell me I'm wrong. Tell me I'm wrong and I've been wrong for as long as you've said my name. What you call me. What I am? What I think I am. Me. Or you. 'You'.

*WARNING* This is a blunt, angry rant to express my frustration at the level of stupidity particular individuals are capable of. *END WARNING*

So a fellow named Bertrand Russell once said "The fundamental cause of trouble in the world is that the stupid are cocksure while the intelligent are full of doubt.” I've allayed all my doubts. I've decided old Bert is spot on with the former statement and the latter is no longer going to be a problem.

I am now certain that certain people are fundamentally, genetically and inescapably senseless. In fact I should have listened to Elbert Hubbard (whom I’m sure I’ve quoted before) when he said “Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity: and I’m not sure about the universe.” As you’ve probably gathered I question a lot of things; but I’m now undoubtedly certain of one thing - a person can most unquestionably be, simply and totally, stupid.

I’d feel sorry for the stupid if they weren’t so convinced that not only are they NOT stupid, they are quite significantly intellectually and emotionally superior to the majority of their peers. Making us ‘doubtful intelligent’ question our very intellect, sanity and well-honed emotional maturity. Say the stupid; Ah yes I’m an adult but I’ll act like a cockier version of Brad Pitt to hide the fact that I’m actually just inherently retarded. Yes Frank Leahy, it must be true; “Egotism is the anesthetic that dulls the pain of stupidity.”

Thus I leave them in their ignorance - being the kind-hearted person I am (comes with intelligence) - and saving them from the painful realisation of their inferior minds. I’ve done them a favour by maintaining the façade they themselves can’t see past and never will.

"The ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world. They can sit at their ease and gape at the play. If they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat."


-Oscar Wilde

You can only hear the voice of reason when you're quiet.

Shut up and listen.

In a sea and you are floating,
Swimming 'round the water's blue,
Water, fish and you just floating,
doing just as all should do.

It was salty but not bitter,
It was cool but not quite cold,
Fish were bright but far from shining,
You felt wrinkly but not old.

Then one day all of a sudden,
Water was replaced with sand,
Fish and water at a distance,
You supported by dry land.

The warmth of sandy beaches
From the chill of icy blue,
Felt like candy for the first time,
Something hardly even true.

Here the ocean it looks smaller,
Shining, sparkling in the sun,
Like a race you've run for so long
And now finally you have won.

I don't know about you but I've just never grown out of the whimsical craziness of Alice in Wonderland...it's so absolutely insane yet so undeniably insightful that it never ceases to capture me. From Lewis Carroll to Walt Disney to Johnny Depp it is most certainly one of my most beloved stories and one of my favourite fantasy concepts. Here are just a few of my favourite excerpts from the original Lewis Carroll book:

"If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there."

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.

Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.

You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."

"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

"I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then"

"In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream- Lingering in the golden gleam- Life, what is it but a dream?"

"You used to be much more..."muchier." You've lost your muchness."

"Do you think I've gone round the bend?"

"I'm afraid so. You're mad, bonkers, completely off your head. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are."

Don't forget your raincoat xx

"Eyes Wide Open" - Gotye

"So this is the end of the story
Everything we had, everything we did
Is buried in dust
And this dust is all that's left of us
And only a few ever worried

While the signs were clear
They had no idea
You just get used to living in fear
Or give up
When you can't even picture your future

We walk the plank with our eyes wide open

We walk the plank with our eyes wide open we
(Walk the plank with our eyes wide open we)
Yeah we walk the plank with our eyes wide open we
(Walk the plank with our eyes wide open we)

Some people offered up answers
We made out like we heard
They were only words
They didn't add up
To a change in the way we were living
And the saddest thing
Is all of it could have been avoided

But it was like to stop consuming's to stop being human
And why'd I make a change if you won't?
We're all in the same boat
Staying afloat for the moment

We walk the plank with our eyes wide open we
(Walk the plank with our eyes wide open we)
And we walk the plank with our eyes wide open we
(Walk the plank with our eyes wide open we)
We walk the plank with our eyes wide open we
(Walk the plank with our eyes wide open we)
We walk the plank with our eyes wide open we
(Walk the plank with our eyes wide open we)

With our eyes wide open we
We walk the plank, we walk the plank
With our eyes wide open we
We walk the plank, we walk the plank, we walk the plank
With our eyes wide open we
We walk the plank, we walk the plank
With our eyes wide open we

So that is the end of the story"

Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said, “one can’t believe impossible things.”
“I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why sometimes I believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast!”

"It takes more courage to reveal insecurities than to hide them, more strength to relate to people than dominate them, more 'manhood' to abide my thought-out principles rather than blind reflex. Toughness is in the soul and spirit, not in muscles and an immature mind."


- Alex Karras

When your heels are the only thing that lifts you up and your party dress the only thing that sparkles

When mirror balls look better than your bedroom ceiling and music sounds better than the tears inside your head

When buying a new handbag makes you feel better, if only for a second...no no goody two-shoes we're not saying we bought happiness, just a new Jimmy Choo

When vodka gives you the warmth you needed from a hug and dancefloor eyes give you a fleeting fraction of what you should have seen in his 

The harsh 6am light doesn't let reality in for long enough before dizzy dreams take over second thoughts

The 3pm headache reminds you for just that little bit longer, but orange juice and coffee tastes good

6pm rolls around and the new dress and fresh coat of bronzer cover up any misconception of guilt

When glittery shiny superficial happiness is for sale and you hand over your credit card and start a tab...poor and pretty you start another day

xoxo

don't forget your raincoat

Rolling in Deep

"There’s a fire, starting in my heart, reaching a fever pitch and it’s bringing me out the dark..." - Adele

Sometimes it just takes one little thing to start off a chain of events that changes the tone of life from bad to good. Waking up in the morning even seems better for whatever piece of something changed your view. One person, one thought, one word, turned the days on their head and your feelings upside-down.

Consciously trying never worked. You had the firewood but the spark wasn’t something you could do for yourself. It came though, when you least expected you’d find it, brighter than you thought and warmer too. The exact moment escapes you, but somehow everything lit up and fires ignited in places you’d forgotten could burn.

The rain and gloom are everywhere today, in people’s shoes and written on their faces. But somehow my fire’s keeping my feet and face warm. The water pouring down the window seems romantic and I feel like I could set fire to the rain. Nothing seems any trouble and the future keeps creeping up my throat from my heart, making me smile.

Perhaps one day soon the burnt ashes will only glow faintly, or go out altogether, ready for me to get fresh firewood and wait again for a spark. I might once again sink into the embers of lukewarm monotony. Perhaps the rain won’t look so pretty tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that.

It’s ok. You’ll still be here. And maybe you can share someone else’s flame to get warm while you rekindle yours. Or maybe the glow of what’s to come is only going to get brighter…maybe there’ll be more. Warmer. Better. Bigger.

Don’t forget your raincoat xx

We said you were wrong but you just wouldn't listen,
The trains were all late in your head,
We buried your hatchet but couldn't keep down
the lies and the thoughts that were dead.

"Well tell me your motive for wanting" you said,
"to tear down this bridge I have built.
So strong is your theory, so soft are your words,
are you trying to sugar-coat guilt?"

Such hard punching words from such soft baby lips,
your conviction a Barbie doll's glare.
The stars shone dimmer, your eyes did too,
but somehow you hadn't a care.

Or was that dim glimmer more stifled than stopped,
your words just strength masking fear?
"My life is my own, you can't change me" you said,
Oh Barbie you're so wrong my dear!

But we brushed your blonde locks and we painted your nails,
caressing your hands and your heart,
We agreed to your schedule (the trains they can wait),
for emotional archeology is an art.

Don't cut off your nose to spite your face. It's really easy to do. Though most hypothetical 'noses' can be sewn back on, grown back, the damage reversed...one day you might not be able to undo a mistake and it will not be from lack of trying.

Sorry only works if you mean it. Constant doses of it as a medicine over time can heal, but some wounds are so deep and incurable that 'sorry pills' only temporarily relieve the symptoms. What you do (or don't do) could be the disease-carrying mosquito or the harmless fly in a situation where humility would have been the repellant for both. Now all's left is to dispense some sorry and hope the prognosis looks good.

Flowers and sorries only remedy the spider who bit, not the bitten. Guilt plays heavy on a remorseful fool, yet its weight may or may not be enough to pound the stain from the fabric of what it tore.

Don't cut off your nose to spite your face. But if you must remove a facial feature, momentarily remove your eyes and face them towards yourself...it's there that you'll find the problem, and the answers.

Don't forget your raincoat x

Words

So what's in a WORD?

Writing about words themselves is not the easiest...quite a head-spin really. I guess it's because as you write them down you're using the very thing you're trying to dismantle? It's like trying to compose a song about song-composition...gets you going round in some pretty confusing circles. If I went into all my thoughts about words and their underlying meanings, how what's written on the paper is ultimately not the most important element of writing, how words are able to be vision, sound and thought all at once...I'd end with some sort of miniature brain self-combustion. I'm too young for that sort of thing. Plus I have more pressing things to do like walk the dog and wash my hair...

So I've left it, as I often do, up to the talents of some great wordsmiths to give some food for thought on the subject of these things I so fondly adore and so equally despise...WORDS...

“Words are only postage stamps delivering the object for you to unwrap” - George Bernard Shaw

"I'll say the words out loud.

I'll say a thousand words or more
Manipulation. Fabrication.
Conversation. Annihilation
I'll say a thousand words or more
Damnation. Frustration.

Elevation. Procreation
I'll say a thousand words or more" - Savage Garden

“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.” - E.L. Doctorow

“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”

 - Edgar Allen Poe

"Words and eggs must be handled with care.
Once broken they are impossible things to repair." - Anne Sexton

"Word may refer to a spoken word or a written word, or sometimes, the abstract concept behind either."

- Wikipedia

"It's only words, and words are all I have, to take your heart away"

- The Bee Gees

And I'll leave you with one more, which is will fit more into my next post, but also here...

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."

- Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

Don't forget your raincoat (S: (n) raincoat, waterproof (a water-resistant coat)) xx

It has been brought to my attention recently that I haven't posted anything for quite some time...since September 2010 by the looks of things! Not acceptable I say, given it's now January 2011! So I've decided to get amongst it and get typing...

Did you know 2011 is year of the rabbit by the way? Sound quite lovely and cuddly like an old Disney cartoon...but I'm not so sure. Given last yeat was the year of the tiger, I'm more than a little concerned that downgrading to a mere rabbit doesn't hold the same sort of inspirational power. They say that the 'rabbit' is refined, gracious and tranquil and represents a calm change from the ferociousness of the tiger...anyone yawning? If you ask me, there's nothing like a bit of "go get 'em tiger" to make you feel like you can take on the world...but now what? "Hop to it?!"

It's just not working for  me. Besides the fact that rabbits carry diseases, are known for getting shot, and are not the brightest bulbs in the tanning booth...they're pests! Admittedly they're 'pets' as well as 'pests' but they're just not exactly the world's most earth-shattering animal now are they?! I want to roar into 2011 with the ferocity of a giant cat...not a hopping ball of fluff.

Now there is one exception to all of this, I must add, and his name is Bugs. Bugs Bunny. Noteably he is set aside because of his capacity for witty sarcasm and practicality (ie he WALKS rather than the typical useless 'hop'). His carrot-chewing "what's up doc" mentality is, I feel, more suited to the Australian way of life, albeit perhaps just as un-exciting as the aformentioned fluff ball. Kudos to you Bugs for breaking free of the cliches of your species...I hereby grant you honourary citizenship!

But as a rule, Rabbits...rubbish. I refuse to start my year this way and have taken it upon myself to ignore this rabbit business and proclaim 2011 to be the year of the tiger! Aain! On account of the fact that I wasn't really aware of last year's status as thus, so I need another go at using it as inspiration to pounce into my year with a roar...wait do tigers roar? No that's lions...anyway...the year of some sort of big cat anyway! It pumps me up with the promise of strength and determination like no little rodent could ever manage, and I feel this is more important that remaining accurate to the Chinese calender. I'll be bold and stripy, not grey and fluffy...I'll prowl, not hop...and I'll bear my nice pointy teeth rather than dumbly displaying my two front fence pailings! Sounds so inspiring I might just go save the world...

Go get 'em tiger!...(slash big cat that roars or something similar)

Don't forget your raincoat xx



This represents my year ahead?! I don't think so...epic fail bunny man...