Wednesday, June 27, 2007

In Vert We Brate

I'm running late to work and as I'm going down the hill my tongue falls out and I fall over it and fall flat on my face.

Fall fall fall.

Stupid tongue.
So easy to trip on.

What can I do? I pick it up, put it back in, and sigh down the street to the little safety zone of the Studio where the door is open with someone laughing at me, and the pink haired lady is jumping up and down screaming, matty! matty! matty! matty!

What, yes?



It's a funny place to feel at home, but this morning especially, it sort of feels like that.


I'm an Octopus, all tangled in the bottom of the tank.

Every now and again, someone tries to make sense of it.

But I'm quite resistant, without even knowing why.


Why do people lie to each other?

I don't fucking know. I wish I could take all the lies I've told and rocket them far into space, in to a distant star which would stay in the sky forever, a reminder of the beauty of raw honesty and truth.

The picture the lies paint is a false Armour, a transparent disguise, and as Chicago sang:

Instead of getting any easier
Its the hardest thing to take
You're a hard habit to break.


I've been hiding, because no-one gets hurt,
especially me, when I hide.
Or, so I told myself.
Another lie.


Here's me, that's all I can B.

Hope your hearts are happy.


  1. i've been hiding a bit too. in my bed. in my bath. i tell myself it's the weather. but i'm not sure.

    but still, my heart is happy enough. thanks for saying all that you do.

  2. And I made lots of spelling mistakes in that comment.


  3. I am glad for you lovely. And I am having a lot of baths as well. But I really like this weather, so it's not that. It's other stuff.

    Stupid other stuff.

    Other stuff makes me drink whiskey, and then whiskey makes me sad, and then I think I'm sad all the time, but I'm not. It's just the whiskey.

    But something's going on in the Universe, and I can' work out what.

    At least this lady I met in the country the other week had some good things to say.

    She said, it doesn't matter what you do, or what you feel, or where you're going, as long as your courageous.

    I thought that was really cool.

    Then she turned out to be some President of PEN, the writer's thing, and she invited me out to lunch. Which I must take her up on.

    This is the longest comment ever. But I'm feeling strange, and you happened along, so there.


  4. there's one word i'm seeing that doesn't help in all this.


    presumptuous i know, but i know because i know.

  5. not being judgmental or anything. oh no no no. i should stop drinking, probably. [don't you love how you can just slip a "probably" in there and you let yourself off the hook?] but the thing is i just love it so fucking much.

    not good.

    but in the meantime, i tiptoe around the subject with myself even.

    pathetic really. but i think you get me. i hope you get me. ?.

  6. Of course I do lovely.

    I've been really good for a long time, comparatively speaking.

    But a lot of stuff just bubbles up sometimes, and of course it is ridiculous to hide it with whiskey...

    But you know what?

    It works most of the time, and I enjoy it too. I enjoy the social aspect, forgetting about the things that crawl within, just for a few hours.

    I think we get each other.


  7. good work. have a good weekend. and call the lady from PEN. sounds like a good thing to do.

    look after yourself. be kind to yourself.

    keep warm. smile. all that stuff.