Monday, May 8, 2006

My castle is your castle.

A while ago I built a castle out of sand, I decorated it with stars, and covered it with clouds. The architect inside me considered it beautiful, his greatest achievement, and would silence the doubts of my internal engineer, and his thirst for stable foundations.

Pish posh, 'tis a masterful creation, and worthy to stand for all time.

And it was worthy, except it was built of sand, not earth, and it was decorated with stars, not lights, and the roof was made of clouds, when it perhaps should have been...well, you get the picture.

Slowly, over time, the elements have taken their toll on my beautiful castle. And I have begun to witness its gentle disentegration. Mourning, in my own way, its passing from my life.

But I am nothing if not determined, so rather than fall to the ground, sand sifting through my fingers as I weep and curse the Gods, I have decided to smooth the area inside me where the castle once was, and draw up plans for my next erection.


I think the next castle I build, I would like to stand forever. I think I will enjoy walking through its suitably dusty corridors, many years hence, touching pieces gently and remembering.

Ah, this room, this room was always my favourite.

I'm not going to rush the construction of my next castle, for there are too many ruins around, too many wasted raw materials, and too much wasted time. I'm going to teach myself the joy of patience, the virtue of deliberation, and the satisfaction in a job taken to its completion, not half done, shaky and achey.

For any one of us at any time, there are the services of a castle builder close by. But not all of them are able to fulfil their contractual obligations, and it is often hard to tell the real deal from their Jerry-Built impersonators. That's the trap. Without a castle, I've often been left to defend myself below in the marshes, no moat, no drawbridge, no pile of hay... [c'mon, they always have that courtyard with a pile of hay...] So yeah, to be honest, in the past, I've always constructed a castle quickly, and without thinking, to shelter myself from 'dem marauding bands of wayward outlaws...roaw! Argh!

But they've all tumbled, somehow. Either from without or within.

So I guess, I'll wait until I find a Master Builder. I guess I'll go fishing, me, the Master Baiter.

So now, I'm sitting on a pier, book and beer handy, and I can wait a long time to catch my builder...'cept this time, I'm waiting for that one that won't get away.

Waiting to talk construction.

And castles in the sky.

*cue motherfucking Hendrix duuuude*

Oh yeah, and I'm starting Karate on Wednesday, so like, you toucha my castle, I breaka yo' face.


  1. do you realise your castle got transported from ye olde medievil (splah to spelling) times to pony express cowboy land?

    i guess its ok though, since you're the sherriff...good to have you back, pardner

  2. We're in the same boat mattyb, just sailing different oceans.

    Complexities abound.

  3. Have you met my darling friend, Nanashi? Maybe you should...then again, maybe you don't need too. And then I think some more and I think that it is strange that I have never seen you in the same room together.

    Nanashi Travelling

  4. It's the Master Builder's responsibility to enlist the aid of a fully trained Master Baiter? Somehow that makes perfect sense.


  5. you know what scares me? that you are going to pack up your metaphors and disapparate again.


  6. i would've tried to interpret this creatively only i know you're wearing girls underwear and thus just want to mock you in public.

    that's not very nice, is it?

    hi there, how're you?

  7. My friend, there are far wore things than wearing women's underwear. Most of which you may find I have done...

    Hi, I'm good. I'm terribly, terribly hungover but happy. How are you?

  8. ooo he's back.

    AND in ladies underwear.

    what a sight for sore eyes.