Saturday, October 7, 2006

The idea of north

The idea of North in Oz is like West in the US of Aye. A land where the air is so sweet you can spread it on your toast like honey. And there's all the honey you can bear and it's brown and gold baby.

But even still, I do believe I am in love with the idea of heading West.

West! Down, around the bottom of the earth, along the cliffs, across the Little Desert or past the Fairies, through that ghost town named after a Queen until I reach the flat, sandy belly of the world. The Nullabor. Wolf Creek Dreaming and spinnifex and dirt man, but best of all...HEAT. Hot so hot I sweat my nightmares out until they form pools at my feet and slowly shrink into nothingness. And at night the inky black comes closing in from each side, marking the end of each act and allowing intermission, respite and a sky filled with diamonds. And if I'm fleeing from it all, whatever it all is, I won't care. Because I'm following the sun and the sun knows it's way. West baby, west. Alone is best.

And in my imagination the car I am driving never stops or slows, and that's my favourite thing. Driving, forever. And I used to have cause to stop at the city that sits swanning on the river, but now, in my dream I drive straight into the ocean, off a cliff, and that's where time freezes, in mid-air, pointed west.

1 comment:

  1. i like your idea. i am enjoying your ideas. my time for rapture is over for the time being. maybe later again.

    depressing isn't it?