Just a long way to the bottom

i'm a lonely house
on a hill
near a lake
here i'm standing all alone
and playing happy
like a fake

got a smile on my face
grin and bear it
take it hard
off the shoulder
like a soldier
cannot bear it
feelin' scarred

built atop a mountain rise
that's 'bove the valleys
'bove the seas
can see all the land around me
to the mallees
and the trees

'cross the broken and the beaten
to the cemete
ries below
see the lost and the defeated
taunt the hated
kill the slow

to a vast and distant future
where the lonely
rule the world
bound as one by isolation
they are loved
and they are...

we all sit in our cocoons
just looking out
upon the land
darkened faces to the sun
we all reach
to take a hand

and be holding one another
and be close
again, to feel
what it feels to touch another
someone turgid
someone real

feel the rise of all their tendons
'neath the skin and
'neath the bones
touch and breathe with eyes wide open
hear their panting
flooding drones

but the shock that's built around us
stop us ventur
ing too far
from our worlds of sure-spun cotton
to our worlds
of...

it is here upon this mountain
that i might stay
enclosed, cocooned
away from raging seas
where i might be
marooned

bleating helpless like an eaglet
fallen from
it's cliff-top nest
is where i see myself in 10
at my hugest
at my best

bequeathed be me to the world at large
all grey feathers
all grey heart
forget my mine main metaphors
and having to
restart.

Je me demande...

You see, I really am perverse. And a bad person. This actually isn't the one that I got, the one I got was:












but, I'll let 'you' decide which one you think fits better. I think the philosopher sounds more enigmatic and isolated like me. Plus (pun!!!!!!) I'm not a mathematician, and so cannot calculate. But, I don't know me, you do. Plus, since when was I safe?

Adieu, mes amis, à demain.

Mine eyes, they are weeping

Oh, my one, my only, my darling. I wanted to leave you something beautiful. It has always been my dream, and even now, in what can only be the twilight of my long, beautiful day with you, all I can think of is leaving you with something you can treasure, something worthy of you, of your ethereal beauty, your timeless, ageless and breathtaking depth, wisdom. I fear that I shall fail, for a task like this seems only too gargantuan; for me, for anyone. But I can try; and if trying was worth as much as succeeding, I would succeed for you a million times over.

I can't really go anywhere from here. It's just writing, just words.


Oohhhh I am so sick of this. Writing, no, it's wrong, no more. Stop. Process. Misuse of language. Anger. Frustration. Inadequaecy. More anger. Contemplation. Confusion. Obfuscation. Oh. My. My. No, he doesn't approve. No, he doesn't get it. No, no one likes that.

What is this, dissertation? Unending, boring, platform shoes. Unetching pain and blinking eyes against driving rain. I can't decide which version of the truth to expound. Oh this is so frustrating. I can't follow a thought, I can't hold it, they come and go. Why so many negations? Why can't you just fucking write, get it over with, stop holding this cloud over your head, influence the weather and pull the fucking curtains closed on this. Oh stop it. STOP. You see. Anger. I AM SO ANGRY. I just wish a man could understand why I want to go and bury my head in the clay with some saltbush and sandalwood at my ankles. Ankles. Aaaaankles. Kles. Kneekneeknees. Ysmelda. Floor contact. Bah.

So, I have disserted little. I have failed. I should clairvoyify the rest of my life. Just go on and on. Why would you do that, that thing, that you did. Why would you say, those things, that you said. Why would you be and then be not to be, do what you do without doing a thing? I leave you; chrome mesh.

The world in which we live

Ah, if only everyone were this enlightened. This declaration comes from my friend Clare, an awesome and inspirational environmental studies (is that right Clare?) student from the University of Queensland. For me, her words say everything I need to say on how I feel about climate change, and with her permission, I am posting it here. I will write a more comprehensive Melbourne update soon, but to all of you with blogs, I would very much appreciate a link to this post wherever you can spare - this message should be spread as far and as wide as possible.

Take care.

rosie

__________________________________________________________________

25/11/06

Dear family and friends,

It is two days after my trip to Melbourne for the Australian Youth Climate Change Coalition (AYCCC) founding summit. The experience has been enormously empowering, the relationships rewarding, the discussions thought stimulating. While I feel sad to have left a group of such passionate, skilled, and compassionate people, their absence has not lessened my enthusiasm.

Coinciding with the summit, the Ziggy Switkowski report was released by the Australian government. I'm deeply distressed by the reports’ message that suggests nuclear expansion in Australia is a potential solution to climate change. As you may be aware, the report failed to discuss some of the key issues surrounding climate change such as the limited time-frame in which we have to act and by how much we need to reduce our emissions. It also concerns me that the report clearly reveals the existing vested interests of the government.

Anna Rose, one of the main organisers of the summit, was broadcast on ‘triple J’ (Hack) in relation to the governments’ proposal of nuclear as the solution to climate change. It is the first time an Australian Youth Climate Change Coalition has been established in Australia; over 50 delegates represented 34 youth organisations that will comprise the founding coalition members.

I’m sure you will hear more of us soon, as the government continues to exclude the voice of the generation that will be most affected by climate change.

If the current government had a serious and well-informed concern for climate change, the nuclear debate would not be on the table. It is dirty, dangerous and too expensive.

It is not a solution to climate change…
"The (Ziggy Switkowski) report makes the staggering conclusion that even if Australia was to build 25 nuclear reactors by 2050, it would only cut Australia's emissions by between 8-18%. This shows what a greenhouse fraud nuclear power is when energy efficiency and renewables alone could cut our emissions by 30% by 2020."
-Doctor's nuclear prescription no solution to climate change, 21-Nov-2006.

The draft report of the Uranium Mining and Processing Nuclear Energy Review (UMPNER) published 21/11/06, http://www.dpmc.gov.au/umpner/reports.cfm

Most importantly, Australia does not need nuclear. We have the solutions to climate change. What we lack is not safe technology, but the political will to implement these technologies. Contrary to what the government will try to have you believe, geosequestration (aka "Carbon Capture") is another example of something we do not need, not least of all because it is no solution to climate change. This technology is unproven to be successful (in not damaging the environment). It is not compatible with current generators. It will be ten years or more before this technology proves viable, and judging from the urgent pleas by scientists all over the world we do not have the luxury of time.

The Australian government is stifling the renewable energy industry, denying it much needed funding. This has caused almost all investments into renewables to leave Australia and head for foreign economies. Some US$2 Trillion is to be invested into the renewables industry in the next 15 years, generating many jobs…but not in Australia, unless we change our tactics.

Australia’s current position is tied up in convincing us that capturing carbon and building Nuclear power plants along Australia’s east coast (exact locations as yet undisclosed) are the only viable solutions.

It is just another example of how we alienate ourselves from the global community. We are so far behind, I cannot stress it enough. Solar, wind and geothermal technologies are all extremely viable, successful and safe options. And have insurmountable social benefits as well.

Imagine not having an electricity bill, being able to afford organic food and sponsor a child overseas.

Imagine community centres that are safe, self-sufficient and sustainable, that do not jeopardise your children’s futures and foster sustainability and human connections.

Ask a coal-community what they think of living in an area where the only available jobs are related in some way to a coal mine or power-plant. Are they happy? Imagine if they received the same opportunities to reach their full potential as you are receiving.

Imagine the Australian landscape devoid of radioactive waste with no risk from nuclear fallout.

Imagine seeing the isolated, ignored and highly vulnerable indigenous communities in rural or outer-urban parts of Australia solar-powered and self-reliant (rather than dependent on the polluting diesel engines for their power), with their health improving and culture blossoming…it’s one of the very least efforts we could make for them. It would be a start - a gift that says; we are truly sorry and respect your connection to the land.

There is no doubt that my personal actions and our collective actions as Australians, born 200 years ago of the European mentality, have drastically changed the natural environment of air, water and land in Australia.

I’m so constantly devastated each day that so few people pay attention to this crisis. But more so that I live in a country that is run by dishonest, disconnected and manipulative leaders that have no regard for the interest of my future and my children’s futures.

I have the right to freedom of speech, but it is a hypocritical government who then denies me their listening ears. I’m 19, and one of the politically significant rights that come with adulthood is being able to vote. But it is not enough. I have no visible impact on the leaders who are meant to be representing my interests, or more broadly, the interests of youth. Perhaps if I were the daughter to a CEO of a coal/electricity/aluminium/petroleum/minerals/cement corporation my plea would not fall on deaf ears. Why is the government not listening to the cries of youth? (or have I just answered that question?)

We, youth, care about our future, our planet, and therefore we are willing to put aside any other compromising actions that have the potential to ruin our lives and the lives of future generations.

I have literally been consumed by this issue for the last year or more of my life. I began with nature itself. A hike in the mountains in central Europe sparked something in my heart that I do have words for. On returning to Australia, the fear I felt was nothing in comparison to the deeply personal challenges I experienced in Slovakia. This, to me, says something profound. The contrast between a struggling post-communist country and a wealthy, indulgent, highly ‘removed’ Australia was so severe.

In so many ways I am lucky I went there. Slovakia was just enough political crisis, social division, environmental disregard and emerging western-tainted youth to destroy all my preconceptions about the world, but not so much as to stop my heart from beating.

I believe I went there for a reason. I don’t regret the experience, indeed I must not, for I wouldn’t be here writing this had I not gone. But appreciating and reflecting on such life journeys is one thing; taking action is another.

My next step was educating myself. I felt, and indeed there was, an enormous void in my understanding of the planet, of the physical make-up and function of life itself. For the last year I have not only been soaking up wells of knowledge from lecturers and text-books, but I have pursued other forms of media to expand my knowledge of the existing environmental crisis that each day knocks more loudly on Australia’s and the worlds’ door.

I would not be exaggerating when I say that each lecture has been immensely frightening. To gain this knowledge and to have it affirmed by subsequent events such as dam proposals, droughts, severe storms, cyclones, species extinctions, our pacific neighbours losing their homes from rising sea-levels (!), media propaganda, acute lack of political will and much more, has been both motivating and enormously disempowering.

I distinctly remember one afternoon waiting for the bus to uni and wanting to run out onto Corronation Dr and stop all the cars in my path. These ineffective measures did cross my mind. I am not stupid, I can clearly see that in the long run this would have made little if any impact, but this gives you an idea of the emotions that flood me when I can no longer take the complacency that surrounds the Australian culture.

We have and are witnessing destructive forces of nature now arising around the world. These have been caused and amplified by us, humans. And we are all responsible for the mitigation of these disasters.

Australia has contributed microscopically to climate change mitigation but grossly to plundering the atmospheric makeup. Our nation’s emissions have increased 20% since the Kyoto protocol was born. We are the largest per capita emitters of CO2 in the world! We are perpetuating global climate change due to our lack of engagement in environmental issues in addition to social and political issues.

They say that change comes slowly. I accept that maybe that has been the case in much of our history as a species. But during the last hundred years of our 150 thousand year existence, women have gained the right to vote, Apartied has been defeated (almost overnight), slavery has largely been abolished; on a smaller more personal scale this year I think I helped deeply changed at least one persons’ mind-set toward the environment. Imagine if all these transitions had not occurred?

Stopping climate change is one such transition that needs to occur. But it is complex.

It encompasses our self-identity and challenges (yet again) humans’ perception of their place in nature.

It encompasses the divide between the 80% of the global population that has 20% of the global wealth and the other which is drowning in its own domestic and industrial waste due to massive consumption patterns.

It encompasses our economic strategy and foundations.

It encompasses the relationship and moral obligation between different generations.

It encompasses the way our societies are run and the very fact that they are just such, run by an elite few. Where is a true participatory democracy?

It encompasses our personal actions, relationships, and attitudes.

In short, it encompasses everything and everyone.

A short while ago, I heard a discomforting statement made by a person I work with. He proclaimed his strategy to gaining followers as such that one should talk about something as if one knew everything about it, leading the listener into a sense of agreement. I hoped at the time that it was merely a joke, but it struck me how evident this tactic is in our society and how accurately this describes the leading politicians in Australia.

The fact that they advocate nuclear and geosequestration as the two most important solutions to climate change clearly demonstrates their immense lack of understanding in the issue.

Do you know what I love? I love that this is not the kind of situation where I must say, “I don’t know the answers”. I do. After learning the concepts of how global ecosystems are failing, I began to search for solutions and found them to be bountiful. I joined a group of students on campus that convened together once a week. I sat. I listened. I observed their passion, their different backgrounds, their expressions when a consensus on a decision was reached. I listened and questioned their views on the world.

I continued to sit with them each week, hopeful and willing to do whatever it took to make some positive change. I have learnt so much from this group of people and the subsequent events, talks, conferences, conversations, films and books that either fell into my lap or came to exist in my brief possession because of my hard-headed search.

The solutions. Yes, there are many. And they are staring us in the face. There are many ways by which we as a people and individuals can steer our cities, our land, our air, our waterways, our oceans, our biodiversity, our forests towards sustainability. Towards a condition that will allow these things to remain. Because this is what we’re facing; the question of “will we choose to survive or will we let our human frailties cause collapse?”

Short-term interests are of little relevance. When the oceans lap over our coastal habitat inundating infrastructure, when cyclones cause further damage to our homes and croplands, when more sever droughts cripple agriculture and displaces loyal farmers, then might we realise that economic growth, watching our favourite sitcom or the new car we desire are sources of momentary happiness that ignore the bigger picture?

In this last week, I have joined with more than 50 other youth representatives to discuss problems and create solutions to climate change. At every moment of the summit I wished everyone that I have ever loved and hated in my life was there. It would have been bliss to see both my mum and John Howard in the room at once.

I am past the division present in our societies. Climate change demands that we all begin to cooperate, not aggressively with only our own interests at heart, but compassionately with the interests of ALL at heart.

It has been a year since I have written anything personal to the people I know. I have been consumed by learning and acting upon information. I have bombarded you all with facts and upcoming events, in the vain hope that you will respond to my impersonal call.

I thought wanting to save the planet whilst maintaining relationships and my creative outlets was a pitiful dichotomy. But I am realising that without these emotional life-supports I cannot save the planet, nor vice versa.

Like the ever-evolving cicadas that adorn the mango tree in our northern Queensland backyard each year, I will shed many layers throughout my life, I’m certain. These represent my weaknesses, my naivety, my grudges and my insecurities. But like the cicadas hard yet fragile epidermis, the recycling of matter will ensure that new skins are formed, giving renewed strength, or in my case, renewed knowledge, purpose and hope.

Soon, the Australian Youth Climate Change Coalition (AYCCC) declaration will be released to the public, a firm and open statement by youth of what is wrong and what desperately needs to be done in Australia to stop climate change. This is my personal declaration to all persons I know and love.

There is time to waste, but we would be self-condemning if we waited the time away. I’m but one person who is needed to solve climate change. We are in this together.

A lonely portal in a backgalaxy

Though apparently galactically themed, this has nothing rather to do with the sort. It is a dissertation on all that has lay'd here before now, and that which will lay here to come.

Hers was a life of light, of laughter. Of lumiescence and love, a life lived in luxury. There were no dark corners in her world. Each inch lit brightly, each rock turned, each hovel discovered and crafted. She was a white, a pink, a yellow, a bright colour, she flowed with colour and life and ribboned everywhere. She spread like pollen on the wind through a room, settling on everything, seeding everything. She was blonde, her rambunctious hair overflowing from confines and into cascades of gold. Her procured smile, her distant sun close upon the horizon. Her skin neither started nor ended, it spread in soft ripples over every shining inch of her. There was nothing on her that was dull, nothing quiet, nothing that simmered. She bubbled and boiled and didn't let up.

He had never known light. He was dark, in every way. From his black eyes, to skin smeared with black, with grime and filth and death. His black spread more to his soul, coming in from the night, the dark alleys he inhabited, the strong smell of whiskey and thick black smoke of a thousand breaths on his breath, his hands, his face. The dark entered him through every orifice, in every pore it stuck. His long stringed hair hung thickly about him. He was nimble, heavy boots curling about his feet, his quick long fingers grabbing, taking what he wanted. To him, there was no light. To him, black, dark, lived in and on. For them to meet, would be a collision of worlds, of cosmic forces. No such meeting could be by chance. Such a meeting was fate, was destined, was meant. There were no chances. There was no fate.

He met her in a dark room, flickering with light. She, lit. He darkened corners. It was a hot night and she was damp with sweat, earthy, heated. She moved, over, over, the steady beat in and in. He stood. He moved to her. Drawn, moth to flame, predator to prey. He touched her, she did not know. So it went on.

He took her limp body, and took it for all to see. He left her for all to enjoy the light. But she glowed no more. It was only death, only death. It was meant. There was so much missing, so much mystery. She was and then she wasn't. From there, he melted to the background, to the black, to the dark.

Avoidance Tactics

I am not studying. Why? Because I have an exam tomorrow. As soon as desperation and dire straits are on the horizon, I go into shutdown mode and instead put curlers in my hair and watch such satisfying moves as Anna and the King. I am looking at a practise problem about Squiggle, Steam Shovel and Pat. Ooh, Anna and the King are arguing. OH go Siam-man. GO! Oh shoosh Jodie Foster. You're annoying. And stupid.

So, upon this threat of death by exam tomorrow, I must go and at least pretend that I will be able to write something, even though I shan't. I've never done practise writing before, and I suppose now that I start, I'll do horridly.

I wish I lived in 1836 Siam.

Poll

Awesome people have more fun. Discuss.

Any minute now

Any minute now, my ship is coming in
Silent tears - as silent as tears can be - crashing down my cheeks, flushed red, the blood rushing through them. You tell me take the light into me. To understand, to follow through with the plans I have made. I can only crease my forehead and grin. Not grin. Clench my teeth and decry all I behold. I can only come upon this pain I am in and suddenly feel. Only now, only now. The irony slaps me in the burning red face. My mask is wearing thin and only now can I see through the eyes. I lived all my goshed life numb and happy, no pain no pleasure. Why take the bad with the good when you can have the nothing? I reasoned.

Time is leaving me. You take my hand and hold it close to your waist. My love, my love, my love. Don't burn alone. I'll burn with you.

And suddenly the brightest words in my life shine like a beacon in the endless dreary night that carries on like a long held F in a chorus of E. It's cloudless, sadless. It's an echoey hall. I'll. burn. with. you.

With you.

With.

With me!

The wave of tiredness crashes down on me, a great wall of weariness, washing, waking. We don't burn.

No, no, no tears from you. I can only silently cry. Long ago the silence started. You must not.You must follow the path ahead, the plans we had made. Follow the dusty grainy path, where no footsteps lie ahead of you. I, my love, my love, must stop here. The flush of red has spread. I am lying here. They come for me now, I can see that. Any minute now. Any minute. Second. Go, love. Don't weep, I will not remain here. Time is leaving me. Be still, go on, take my light, I don't need it now. Don't wait for your life to happen. Be there before it does, before someone else takes hold, and takes you away, before your face flushes red and you lie in white on a bed not yours on a night not your own, with blood that is yours not in you. Stay on your path, your side of the road.

Any minute now.

Ponderous thoughts

The little things I've learnt that probably mean nothing.

the only thing worse than not getting what you want is getting what you want and realising you were wrong.

the only people who can hurt you are the people you allow to get close enough to do so

doing what's right is not always doing what's best, much the same as doing what is wrong is not always doing what's worse: i guess it's a question of conscience.

nice out don't equal nice in.

truth is what you don't want to hear.

lies are what you don't need to hear.

it is far easier to get along with someone nothing like you

winning little victories doesn't make you stronger, but letting them go does

letting people get under your skin is a process of listening > processing > accepting

being told what to do makes you want to do the complete opposite

politics is a playground with cameras and suits

being boring is only a matter of having no interest in the world outside

it is impossible to drive and talk on the phone and try and reach your ipod that has fallen on the ground at the same time

no matter what vendetta you lead, people like paris hilton will still find ways of being public idiots

...and my current favourite

the irony in being free to do what you want is that you must not do what you are told

ho hum yes.

xxx

Forty-five oranges buried in a tree

It's a cool field of green
and a world where lying is forbode
In chains that hold and home us
in hell where cold meets furnace
it's the impossible that's possible
and the real that never hap'd
only babies feel the tremble
in their tiny toes
as that bit of life we had left
drains away as apathy
and what we had worth living for
is worthless now, sold for nowt
and the cold replaces the furnace
being chained to it
reigned to it
held to it and
drawn to it
we chant and breathe
and wild-eye dance
around the last flame
of the everlasting never
i'm taken by the moment
and i say 'i'm still alive'
and eyes widen
blanched hands back away
and they come to take me away
but seeing never's coming
it doesn't matter anyway.

Who dost thou knoweth?

One day, I'll just shatter.

It's always the good people that have to go.

She alleges that you may have compromised his position. That is what they all say.

Don't say what you're thinking.

Beauty isn't skin deep. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it's also on the inside. With messages like this it's no wonder the beauty industry rakes it in. We're all too confused.

It was just business.

Qu'est-ce que vous aimez manger avec des amis?

I can hear music playing and it's just weird. It's playing and it's incomplete. There's a sense of a somewhat irritable and formidable bass. Let's try this.

I totally know what is going on. I am in control. Or I should say, I have control. How can you be in an intangible concept? What is control anyway?

I sure as heck know what it isn't. And it isn't this.

Rosie the Political

Your Political Profile:

Overall: 40% Conservative, 60% Liberal

Social Issues: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal

Personal Responsibility: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal

Fiscal Issues: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal

Ethics: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal

Defense and Crime: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal

How Liberal Or Conservative Are You?

Here we go, Jeremy nagged me about this a while ago and I just did it - reveal anything? Let me know, oui oui? Haha xoxox

The Faceless Challenge

I like this blog. I can hide here. It is my hideyhole, perhaps.

Of what to blog? It is the question I am apparently never able to answer, being somewhat of a serial nonsense blogger however I find comfort in my present ability to create longwhinded texts of virtually no substance and which upon further inspection or retrospect, would produce no valuable thoughts or contribution to intelligent discussion. As such, I proceed with no caution but instead reckless abandon for human understanding, and as Hoju so adequately declares it, genius.

I often wonder of the faceless people who have brought to me things such as television, servietters, meat trays and balloon text. I like to imagine that these amazingly brilliant people thought of something entirely on their own - so that I can wonder harbour that same success and produce something wildly effective and retro that will get the blood pumping in the veins of human improvement. I wonder of the hands who first formed pastry, the mind that first conceived the thought of displacing human theory and placing it aeons behind and in front of us, allowing us to abstract our thoughts beyond the mundane and routine, the menial and definite, and instead placing us in a vacuumn of delicious uncertainty and faithlessness. Why, when one thing can be disproved, surely can another? Yet in the case of all negatives, we manage to ignore the fact that if one thing can be proved, surely all others can too. It it still amazing to me that negatives cancel out, but positives simply add up. So in this tidal wave of insecurity and certainty that there is in fact no certainty, we rolick along imagining the impossible and convincing ourselves that while things may seem impossible, Jesus walked on water and Margaret Thatcher was married, and so of course there must be some intervening force or instead large comet of luck streaking its away around our universe, the tail end occasionally catching the less believable in its orbital race to nowhere. We, because of one faceless person who first understood that abstraction was a form of living, but in unquantifiable terms to the present, correct and three-dimensional human being, believe in belief and disbelief, impossible and possible and faith in not having the slightest titch, all at once. But for that one person, we would not have that capability as an abstracting species, and as such, a species able to speculate, plan, and prepare for what we may believe upon extrapolative inspection, to occur. Does that make us unique, supreme, or cursed beyond belief - for surely to know what is coming makes the pain ten times worse? It's like when you know someone is going to hit you and you close your eyes and the spot you think will be hit hurts, or throbs, or tingles, but the assault does not come. Or when it does, you have prepared for the pain, and emit a preordained response which is - "Oh my God, I've been hit. Painpainpainpainpain."

But is this even true? But for one person, we are set apart? What if it were merely chance that this person, this man or woman, stumbled upon this? Would someone else have stumbled upon it in much the same way? Did it initially die out? Was it like the biological principle of evolution - in which mutants occurred, and depending on the usefulness of the mutation, either bred it in or out of the species. Were the men/women who dreamed up abstracticity (ah, new word time) more attractive for their ability to predict, their ability to dream and to imagine, and move towards something instead of milling around in what they already had? Or did abstracticity somehow afford them a survival skill lacked by their unendowed counterparts, perhaps the ability to simply stay under cover in times of cloud, or keep food when they knew cold weather was coming? Did these faceless people know what they were thinking would shape our species to the degree that it has today? That in all we do - abstracticity is inherent and indeed essential to conceptual understanding of things as simple as the need to brush one's teeth to prevent rot, or to attend university in preparation for a profession.

The question here, dear reader/s, is perhaps more one of belief, as strangely it appeared to be before. Was this even, in the beginning, a human trait? Or did we, as many may argue, simply assume it from our predecessors, and make it our own, capitalise on it with our additional abilities and regurgitate it as the supreme human trait? Is it not but for the thoughts of one human, but instead, for the natural progression of evolution, a predetermined path upon which we tread, insistent of our command of fate, yet doubtful of it when it all goes wrong.

I ask you - as I seem to have been doing quite a bit - to consider this: Is there ever one person who catalyses something as natural as abstract thought, language or religion? Is it our ability to thing abstractly and subsequently act on those abstractions with reasonable faith that we are correct, that makes us uniquely human and able to command over all other species in intellectual superiority? Is there really any other expression than language that could present to you an argument, such as this, that is so abstract and conceptual that even I struggle to remember where I am at? And why on earth do we have faith in things in which we have no certainty?

I put it to you, dear reader, that these are questions we cannot nearly begin to answer.

With all due respect,
Moi.

Where's it going?

As i write this while i'm supposed to be doing french, it won't be anything to deep or profound or for that matter ecclesiastical.

This is a poem I wrote a little while back on the bus. I know, corny naming-ending relationship and a suitable rhythm, but you get that on a bus. Je pense. haha

Soul Reception

Where am I even going
at this hour
of the night
what am I even doing
out of fear
out of fright?
Am I fleeing from pursuers
at my heels
day and night
and I running from the sewers
from the dark
to the light?
So am I tired, am I worn
am I red
am I blue
what is there left to finish
now there's nothing
left to do
Am I left or am I right
do i say
just what is true
is it my fault you're unhappy
have i brought this
upon you
so as the darkness on the outer
draws in closer
to my heart
i am fearful of the end
for i can hear it
as it starts
and i see the wall approaching
pass the mall
and pass the mart
the darkness comes around me
and i
am ripped apart
and all those tiny beads of me
go up
into the sky
as laying on the pavement
i am now
about to die
and i think of what i did and laugh
then chuckle
then sigh
because nothing i remember
was worth
my goddamned time
so with mirth and wry damnation
i curse
my whole deception
that what i'd done was enough
as i head
to soul reception.

Where's it going?

As i write this while i'm supposed to be doing french, it won't be anything to deep or profound or for that matter ecclesiastical.

This is a poem I wrote a little while back on the bus. I know, corny naming-ending relationship and a suitable rhythm, but you get that on a bus. Je pense. haha

Soul Reception

Where am I even going
at this hour
of the night
what am I even doing
out of fear
out of fright?
Am I fleeing from pursuers
at my heels
day and night
and I running from the sewers
from the dark
to the light?
So am I tired, am I worn
am I red
am I blue
what is there left to finish
now there's nothing
left to do
Am I left or am I right
do i say
just what is true
is it my fault you're unhappy
have i brought this
upon you
so as the darkness on the outer
draws in closer
to my heart
i am fearful of the end
for i can hear it
as it starts
and i see the wall approaching
pass the mall
and pass the mart
the darkness comes around me
and i
am ripped apart
and all those tiny beads of me
go up
into the sky
as laying on the pavement
i am now
about to die
and i think of what i did and laugh
then chuckle
then sigh
because nothing i remember
was worth
my goddamned time
so with mirth and wry damnation
i curse
my whole deception
that what i'd done was enough
as i head
to soul reception.

Figures in the Dark

It's like that time when your parents yelled at you and you had this fantastic comeback and then they shut you down and you simmered for months thereafter in the bitterness and hate that was resentment - at your loss of expression, at your denial of fundamental human rights, and a lost cause to get more money.

There's nothing you can do about it, so you don't try. You just sit in the glum and you hate them more and more. And they act all the more parenty. You wanna fuckin kill something because you can't express what you need to.

It's like that 'ere, right on. Figure A, deceiving you to the best of its abilities in an effort to impress Figure A.1. You resent Figure A, because you get told you are the most important for so long, and when something better comes along, you're out. The Beta version (that's you) is out, and alpha Figure supercedes you in every way possible. You feel usurped of a power you never had, but were willing to believe for a time you did.

Figure B you have recently discovered, must to the displeasure of what you considered to be your good taste, is a nincompoop. Where you once thought lay depth and vision, one unlike any other, you realise it is just another, wearing a rabbit suit instead of a man suit. You were led astray, believing, more wanting to believe than ever having faith in your ability to judge, that you had found one different; refreshing ; deep and thoughtful, and yet you were faced, once the rabbit suit came off and you opened the door before the opportunity arose to rerobe, that below the deceivingly different exterior, a man suit lay as with all the rest, and you shut the door, disenchanted, alone, and visciously unsettled. Figure B, if possible, comes equal first with Figure A, and each sits upon the dais in a sweet, ignorant, bemusement at how they had tricked you so.

Figure C resembles the greater populus of Figures, for figures do not, for simplicity, go past C. You thing - with so much water, how do we not gain more depth? - but forget that with nothing substantial to hold the water, it flows as far as is waterly possible, to cover as much ground and to hide as much of their earthy interior as the stretch will allow. The mating call sounds like that of a cheap bird, the laughs perfunctory, the responses rehearsed and perfected, the nonchalant attitude to living as powerfully self-evident as the apathy to conform. They claim, they claim, we are, we are! But you know they are not. They are not, and they cannot help it. You would pity them, but every fibre in your body disallows you to feel remorse for those who would never dream of feeling it for you.

And your figures are laid out. The voodoo kit in your hand twitches as you are startled by someone drifting in behind you, a soft breeze accompanying the opening and closing of the door.

It's figure X, and they hold you dearly. And while Figures A through C fight it out for top dog of unhappiness, you cling to X; the real world, where none who are so disturbingly, aggravatingly and infuriatingly self-obsessed, self-absorbed, dependent, poncey, whoosey, and unbearably incomplete to their gender roles, for life, for living in every other sense as is definitively human bar breathing and bodily functions, and as figures in the human sense, could ever make it like you.

Where does a circle start?

Sometimes, I wonder how anyone can NOT have contempt for the world. After swinging through a maze of mood changes for no reason, coming to the conclusion that I must be a prediagnostic schizophrenic maniac, then deciding I was bi-polar, then not being sure, then deciding on bi-polar because I wasn't sure, I found that I had looked at everything in the worst possible light and that a positive light didn't seem to shine let alone be possible of being a view on the world.

After taking a step in the social pool and realising just HOW shallow it is, I have become disillusioned with all the pretence and ponce and frivolity that seems to rule the social stratum. It has come to show me just how far money can get you, how the little tred on the little to get just a few rungs higher, and how no one seems willing to change that. Rich and poor, big and little, popular or outcast, there is little camaraderie between any class or social group, and enough people competing against others who could well be colleagues to make an equalitist gag.

I have discovered that I hate passivity. I hate people who aren't happy with their lot, but are too piss-weak to take the bull by the horns and do something about it. What I hate more are people who expect others to do the bull-riding for them, and even more than that, people who then complain because either a) they want to side with the victor of the confrontation (if there was one) b) they don't like the change and want more done/ a reversal of the change c) they resent that they were too freakin' pathetic to do anything or d) they're crap friends who don't realise how much guts it takes to stand up and do something for someone else once in a while. Maybe if these fruitcakes TRIED this hands-on living for themselves, they could appreciate that.

I realise also how much I resent truly contemptuous people, which seems ironic, hypocritical and blah blah blah. People who won't give anything a chance, who won't try anything once, and/or who treat others badly because it's fun/easier/helpful to their dismal self esteem. I found it ironic that the thing I find I hate most in the world - is hate. I tried to get my head around that, tried grappling it in a flow chart, and talking it over, but it doesn't make any sense. In all hypocrisy and irony I make the statement that I hate hate. And in doing that, I perpetuate what I hate, but if I didn't hate hate, then I would love hate and then I would have to hate, but ... argh...

I've just recently started getting to terms with what I would like to sort out, change, rectify, observe, learn and disassociate from in the future - and it's looking daunting.

Felling Trees

I don't understand a few things. One, I don't understand why I am always the one who gets abused, snubbed, bitched about, when it is OTHER people who do things. I am kind enough to not NAME them, or say WHAT happened, or give any details that might indicate what it is that made me upset, yet when I talk about it in the vaguest of terms (ie, my last post) I have a multitude of people who I don't know, who weren't concerned (or who were and are still too nasty to admit it is them) and for whom these instances mean nothing, come and give what they think is their two cents worth. I have read through other blogs, and there are nastier things, more political things, more controversial things - yet when I want to communicate my opinion, or in my OWN blog I want to be upset over something, other people, either too nasty or too eager to for once be the one's doing the attacking, decide it is their duty to tell me I'm wrong. In all of the anonymous comments, the same message comes through - you are wrong. They say other people are entitled to act as they wish, with little or no consequence, but I am not entitled to think my own way without being persecuted for it.

Some people decide that it is their duty to point out their hypocrisy - yet fail to acknowledge their own - that they may come on here and preach to me about how to be a better person, yet be doing something nasty themselves at the same time. None of the comments concede with me on anything - they all attack me in one way or another - and that (not wholly) surprises me, because I wouldn't have thought that asking 'people' to be nice and not judge would insight others to speak against it. The people that have commented, thank you for your comments, but I simply cannot respect your opinion because you haven't put your name to it. You find it your duty to point out my faults, but can't find it in yourself to do the right thing and put your name on your comment. I honestly don't care if you don't like me - that isn't my issue. My issue is that you are too afraid of what I may say to you in real life if you take the credit you are claiming to deserve in correcting my misguided beliefs and replacing them with your own. People have commented that I am looking down on people with putting my views out there - then telling me what to think. I'm not allowed to tell people what to think - yet you are allowed to tell me what to think - that is, not what I think.

You are pointing out my hypocrisy, but if I point out yours, you just have to say "Well, you're not listening to what I'm saying."

Then, further, I am told that I should listen to what's in the comments, not the way they are constructed. So from this:

You fucking whore, you are a fucking retard who doesn't deserve life because you're a fucked motherfucker with a fucked up family who should all be fucking shot, you childmolester. Fuck off to retardland and go and fucking die.


... I am supposed to take:

You who sleeps with many people, you are mentally disturbed, and you should not be alive because you are so disturbed, and you have a very misguided family who should also die, you paedophile. Please go away and die.

Notice how that is nigh on impossible? You can't ignore the abuse in there - similarly with me, I cannot take the 'message' from a comment, where every second sentence is a personal insult.

Secondly, I don't understand how you feel satisfied commenting on here, trying to make me feel bad. How does that enhance your life? It doesn't make you a better person. And commenting anonymously achieves nothing. If you don't like me - as your comment would suggest - then why be secretive? If you are secretive, then I may never know. You are wasting your time then, because I will obviously keep trying to be your friend in real life, which you obviously wouldn't want. If you don't like me as you suggest in your comment then don't like me outright, say who you are and you won't have to waste any more of your precious time on me, nor I you. If you are not saying who you are because you think I could be useful, then it is only a reflection on you, and not me, that you have done this. We never speak out in our society - so many friends I have seen hurt, suffer, all because they were too afraid to speak out. So go on. Do it. You might, ironically, thank me for it. Though I wouldn't expect anyone to do that, ever.

Where do you get off trying to make me miserable? Is it because by doing so, you feel more happy with yourself, that you are better than someone because you can say whatever you like about them without ever having to worry about the consequences? By felling another tree, the carpenter needs less wood and you might stay standing, right?

The carpenter always comes after those that stand alone.

It's no secret anymore

Ok. This is going to be one of those annoying whiny nagging piffle posts, but bear with me. I have to be inarticulate sometimes. The things I think are often unintelligible anyway.

I'm sick of ambiguity and politeness.

Welcome to The Suck.

I am so incredibly, unbelievably SICK of all of you out there who think you are BETTER than someone else for any of the following reasons:
- wealth
- socioeconomic background
- appearance
- intelligence
- any individual trait or unchangeable aspect of your life.

I am smart. So go fuck yourself. You know I am. Strangely enough, I don't use this against other people. Oh but you do, Rosie! I would like someone to demonstrate an instance in which I have used my intelligence to my advantage or to criticise someone else where they haven't used my weight as something to have a go at me about. People constantly use this reason, my weight, as a reason to look down on me. I'm seen as less of a person, ironically, because of my weight! People think it is fine to look down on someone because they are different. People assume that it is acceptable to ostracize someone for a reason that they believe outlines them as superior. People think that if you can't be them, then you don't deserve their time. They believe that money automatically assumes you as a classy subject, as well spoken, as gifted, talented or otherwise embellished with positive attributes all equalling 'better human'.

So the ideas are out there.

First of all - wealth. I would like someone to explain to me exactly what it is that established wealth as a powerbroker in what makes you better than someone. Ok, I acknowledge that wealth, monetarily, that is, allows you privilege, status and the ability to purchase the necessary commodities that see you, in the Western world, recognised as higher in the stratum than others. However, I do not see how on earth these people - you people, if you are reading - can justify this as a means of determining who is worthy, who is superior, inferior or equal to you. Money does not equal class - we learn this from the prostitutes-in-training who were at PLC, who made a porn video. Not exactly a classy move. Money does not equal brains - we learn this from the fact that only one or two schools that demand excessive fees had perfect graduation rates in 2005. Money does not equal a more charitable or compassionate person - if rich people were more charitable or compassionate, then they wouldn't be rich, would they? Go figure. Money does not mean success - success is, rather, measured by the amount of goals achieved in proportion to those set. Money can not be used as a means of gaining a foot up on those who have less than you, because in no way does it make you you as person a better human.

Socioeconomic background - mainly determined by wealth but also by other factors including but not limited to occupation/providers occupation/location of home/type and number of car/s owned/family situation and/or school/college attended (at least in this stage of our lives).
What strikes me most violently about socioeconomic background is that at this stage in our lives, we are mostly unable to determine most of the things listed above. The fact that people can judge and hence look down on others because of the reasons listed is absurd, for many reasons but mainly because for most people these material factors do not determine nor dictate their lives or choice of lifestyle. People who judge on this basis are painfully unaware of their lack of depth in fathoming a person's worth, and this is clearly demonstrated through the fact that they are willing to judge because of this! That someone can be defined by an item of clothing, a material possession or the luck of the draw for employment is ridiculous. If someone can point me in the way of understanding how exactly it may not be ridiculous, I would be most amused to listen to what you have to say.

By God I'm getting tired.

Appearance, some people believe, is something that can be helped, changed, modified, at least in the sense of weight, hairstyle, clothing, makeup, clothing accessories, manbags etc. However, to judge on appearance is to deny the presence of the more integral aspect of one's overall impact as a person, and that is personality. To judge on looks is to have little or no regard for personality. This may seem extreme to some people. You may think "Yeah, but I can look at you Rosie and even though you're fat I know you're a nice/mean/silly person." you see, the thing is, if you even THINK of me as rosie:fat, you are already warping my impact on you by associating with me, subsequently, the connotations of fat in Western society; that is, laziness, stupidness, ugliness, and basic no-hoperness. Even if you don't think THOSE exact things - they are part of your society-learnt views on fat, and you cannot ever change that. If I lose weight, you will see me as the girl who lost weight to look better/to get healthier/to be more attractive, each of which carries further meaning to HOW you get me. (I'm using myself as an example because it's easier to translate onto the page). It all boils down to the fac that if you judge on appearance, it's going to make everything else more difficult. By looking down on someone because of appearance, a hark-on from judgement, you are establishing yourself as a person with whom no one can associate depth or quality of judgement with - because looking down on someone is deciding you're better than them. Appearance is, remember, subjective. Just because you look down on me because I'm fat, in a tribe somewhere in Africa YOU could be considered the inferior person because you are thin.

Are you sticking with me? It's hard, I know.

Intelligence! Now this is hard for me to write about - because as a smart person, I find it incredibly difficult at times to not diss people based on their intelligence (or lack thereof) when all they can do is pay me out for being fat. It is hard. And I probably sound really stuck up here. But if I don't say it, who will? You must forgive lack of honesty and in exchange take a pinch of salt with my view of the world. However, I will try to be objective.
To judge someone on their intelligence is to disregard their humanity and the fact that perhaps they've just never been taught. One cannot learn, as I am constantly telling my mum while trying to cook things I've never cooked before, if one is not taught. On another blog I read, a girl who will not be named occasionally makes comments that perhaps other people would scoff at and say "pooh! I would never say something that silly! I am too smart for that!" I am guilty of it. I do apologise, yet I also use that to speak from experience. However, what we fail to recognise is that to most people, what they say makes sense to them. What they say is a reflection of what they think, and although they may not express it as eloquently as others, the fact that they are expressing it should command respect. We judge on intelligence because we believe it is a natural gift, but it is taught, it is learnt. People do not become smart by being born to gifted parents, but learn to think in a cognitively-sensitive manner that allows them to utilise skills and knowledge provided. To look down on someone because of their intelligence is to once again, as in other instances of other traits, deny the importance of a multi-faceted system - that is, the complexity of the human psyche.

Enough of my psychobabble!
The final point pertains to those above in an effort to tie each to the other and to illustrate that traits, changeable but mostly unchangealbe do not allow you to look down on someone.

This is all about respect. We seem to have lost respect for each other, for diversity and for difference. Perhaps an appreciation for such qualities would lead us to a new cycle - where we never have a need to look down on each other.

Yawn!
bed for me, at least in the next hour :D
xox

sally has been thought; a doctor d exclusive

There was once this thought that crossed my mind. She was, amongst other things, an interestingly feisty thought. I called her Sally. Through mines and battlefields, five-lane freeways and thickets full of nasties she had never seen before she battled. She came upon adversaries and enemies and faced scarier things than one may face trekking the darker realms of the underworld, but never did she forgo what it was she set out to do - enlighten. She had been called recondite by her other thoughts, those she had presumed her friends. But she had never let them drag her down. Not once. Not ever. She had worked all her short life to make it out of the blur and into the conscious, to emerge from the crowd, and through the exegete of clarity brought about by quite moments of self-reflection, make it as a thought; unforgotten and unforgettable. Her sine qua non was not her indispensability, but her presence, like a lightning bolt across a velvet sky - simply unforgettable. She had a vim unlike any other thought, and that perhaps is why I have to tell her story. She asked not for any perquisite or gratitude, but only for time. She waited, bode and wasted her time, just waiting for her moment. Her quiddity was not that she was a fantastic thought, but an intense and striking thought. She had time of day for only one thing - and that was making sure she was immortal. She became the cynosure of every thought in my mind. She never warranted their envy. She was apposite to every other thought, and each felt usurped of importance and worth. She was wonderful. She occupied the centre of the my cranial firmament and I loved it.

Her moment came. And she couldn't be happier. As she streaked out, past every encumberment that had held her to my mortal conscious since she had formed, she left behind her only one remnant. The satisfaction that Sally had been thought.