Credo

"Remember above all things, Kid, that to write is not difficult, not painful, that it comes out of you with ease, that you can whip up a little tale in no time, that when you are sincere about it, that when you want to impress a truth, it is not difficult, not painful, but easy, graceful, full of smooth power, as if you were a writing machine with a store of literature that is boundless, enormous, endless, and rich. For it is true; this is so. Do not forget it in your gloomier moments. Make your stuff warm, drive it home American-wise, don't mind critics, don't mind the stuffy academic theses of scholars, they don't know what they're taking about, they're way of the track, they're cld; you're warm, you're red hot, you can write all day, you know what you know, like Halper; you remember that, Kid, and when you feel as if you cannot write, as if it is no use, as if life is no good, read this over and realise that you can do a lot of good in this world by turning out truths like these, by spreading warmth, by trying to preach living for life's sake, not the intellectual way, but the warm way, the way of love, the way which says: Brothers, I greet you with open arms, I accept your frailties, I offer you my frailties, let us gather and run the gamut of rich human existence. Remember, Kid, the ease, the grace, the glory, the greatness of your art; remember it, never forget. Remember passion. Do not forget, do not forsake, do not forget. It is there, the order and the purpose; there is chaos, but not in you, not way down deep in your heart, no chaos, only ease, grace, beauty, love, greatness.....Kid, you can wip up a little tale, a little truth, you can mop up the floor with a little tale in no time; it is a cinch, you are the flow of smooth thrumming power, you are a writer, and you can turn out some mean stuff, and you will turn out tons of it, because it is you, and do not forget it, Kid, do not forget it; please, please Kid, do not forget yourself; save that, save that, preserve yourself; turn out those mean little old tales by the dozens, it is easy, it is grace, do it American-wise, drive it home, sell truth, for it needs to be sold. Remember, Kid, what I say to you tonight; never forget it, read this over in your gloomier moments and never, never forget.....never, never, never forget.....please, please, Kid please....."

--Jack Kerouac

I'm alive, and I like it

Something that just came to me

Not me, not I

Funny, every time there is a turning point sort of number in my blog posts - eg. 200 - it is revolutionalised from that point without me even meaning to do it. I just happens. Simultaneous creation? Subconcsious workings? Spirits conspiring on my behalf? Who knows...

we need a picture of sorts, don't you think?

Oh! I've just be told I must play the flute by itunes. I haven't played since I finished school! Oh the shame!

Practice=noun Practise=verb

I shall henceforth remember this, with a handy reminder: s=verb=sverb=sven!

Your Heart Is An Empty Room, by Death Cab for Cutie

Burn it down till the embers smoke on the ground
And start new when your heart is an empty room
With walls of the deepest blue

Home's face: how it ages when you're away
Spring blooms and you find the love that's true
But you don't know what now to do
Cause the chase is all you know
And she stopped running months ago

And all you see
Is where else you could be
When you're at home
Out on the street
Are so many possibilities
To not be alone

The flames and smoke climbed out of every window
And disappeared with everything that you held dear
And you shed not a single tear for the things that you didn't need
'Cause you knew you were finally free

'Cause all you see

Is where else you could be

When you're at home
Out on the street

Are so many possibilities

To not be alone

And all you see

Is where else you could be
When you're at home
There on the street

Are so many possibilities

To not be alone

When you're at home, what do you do? Well, I get strange. Spending the whole day at home gets me blocked up (and I do it a lot, don't I). Stasis. That's what it's like. An itching stasis. It shits me. How do I get things done when I can't get things done? I never take advantage of my clear and driven times, just say "awesome! i'll do something about that later." Hahaha, it's a little silly, these things people do. It's difficult growing out of the self you're so used to being. You didn't even realise it was nothing more than habit, or how it would be to change that habit, until you started to work on it. But there have been changes. Many changes. Great changes that make you very happy when you look upon them. Look at how much you've grown!! So you remember that all you need to do is keep at it and then you smile smile smile :)
I enrolled in my uni courses today. Not that I actually got a choice in what subjects I did, but I still had to go there and organise them. The handbook makes it seem like you have a choice - you must do two subjects from each of the three disciplinary strands - and then you look at the available subjects, and what do you see? There's only six subjects available, hahaha.
It's very exiting!! Going to uni, doing this course that seems like it will be awesome. It's actually on fiction writing! I thought it might focus more on media writing, but the writing part is on fiction!
I forgot, or never really knew because I didn't really pay attention, that this session was specifically for my course. So there were two guys in the line behind me - writing and cultural studies? Yeah - and I turned around and said me too! as if it was some amazing coincidence. Hahaha. But on the plus side, I made a friend already! There were real coicidences involved here, too. The first guy behind me said he lived in Cheltenham, I think. I think he said that. Which is where I live! No one lives here! The other guys went to Epping Boys High, right near by! And the first guy wants to do international studies too! Maybe I should assassinate him so he doesn't get my spot. Excuse me for a minute...*opens a cage* fly my pretties, fly!
Ahem, where was I...
Enrolled!
I have only four days at uni, and, if all goes to plan, I'll be going to lectures from 9-10 each day, and then tutorials from 10-11:30. Then home! That is, of course, when I don't have any EXTRA CURRICULAR ACTIVITIES on. That's right! I am doing extra curricular activities. That's quite a change for me. I want to do so many, but I can't do them all, for I do have to work really hard so I can transfer into International Studies. I want to join the orchestra, but they practise until 8:30 at night, and lots of people have been getting accosted/raped in my area lately...I hope I can do it, though. The train is safe, surely. Maybe I could find some music friends. That would be good.
Anyway, I'm just blabbering on boringly, aren't I? See, I'm taking some advise from a friend - blog to improve your writing skills. Which isn't really what I'm doing now, except I'm maybe freeing things up a little.
Oh no! It's raining! That's good, but I have some tomatoe seedlings out there! Little babies! I hope they don't get hurt! Is that how you spell tomatoe? It looks wrong.
Tomorrow, I have to write a 3000-5000 word story, so I can spend the following day revising it so I can send it off the day after that so it arrive in time to be judged!! I started it in third person, but it wasn't going anywaywhere so I switched to first and now it's cruising along. Wish me luck! Pfft, I don't need luck, I'm a genius, hahaha.
If you haven't noticed, I'm a bit of a chortler tonight. More humour in my life is my mission!
Goodnight, all. May you all be carried away to some wonderful place in dreamland that revitalises your non-sensory senses

Open the eyes of my heart...

"Men," said the little prince, "set out on their way in express trains, but they do not know what they are looking for. Then they rush about, and get excited, and turn round and round..."
And he added:
"It is not worth the trouble..."
The well that we had come to was not like the wells of the Sahara. The wells of the Sahara are mere holes dug in the sand. This one was like a well in a village. But there was no village here, and I thought I must be dreaming...
"It is strange," I said to the little prince. "Everything is ready for use: the oulley, the bucket, the rope..."
He laughed, touched the rope, and set the pulley to working. And the oulley moaned, like and old weathervane which the wind has long since forgotten.
"Do you hear?" said the little prince. "We have wakened the well, and it is singing..."
I did not want him to tire himself with the rope.
"Leave it to me," I said. "It is too heavy for you."
I hoisted the bucket slowly to the edge of the well and set it there - happy, tired as I was, over my achievement. The song of the pulley weas still in my ears, and I could see the sunlight shimmer in the still trembling water.
"I am thrist for this water," said the little prince. "Give me some of it to drink..."
And I understood what he had been looking for.
I raised the bucket to his lips. He drank, his eyes closed. It was as sweet as some special festival treat. This water was indeed a very different thing from ordinary nourishment. It's sweetness was born of the walk under the stars, the song of the pulley, the effort of my arms. It was good for the heart, like a present. When I was a little boy, the lights of the Christmas tree, the music of the Midnight Mass, the tenderness of smiling faces, used to make up, so, the radiance of the gifts I received.
"The men where you live," said the little rpince, "raise five thousand roses in the same garden - and they do not find in it what they are looking for."
"They do not find it," I replied.
"And yet what they are looking for culd be found in one single rose, or in a little water."
"Yes, that is true," I said.
And the little prince added:
"But the eyes are blind. One must look with the heart..."

from The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I write this in the presence of rain. It taps on the window and reminds me that it is pattering down outside, falling to the ground in tiny droplets, blessings in pellet form. If I'd written this yesterday, it would have been in the presence of the scent of bushfires, that summer smell that ties my life together, reminding me of what it is to be Australian, to grow up somewhere where this smell is normal, even beautiful. The houses of many of my friends were engangered by the fires. But that is life here, isn't it? In order for the bush to be healthy - for seeds to germinate, for soil to be fertilised, for old growth to be cleared to make way for the new - it must burn. It must die. And then after the fires it comes to life! Seedlings come up everywhere. It all looks a little strange for a few years, with dense undergrowth and gum trees growing out oddly, but eventually it's back to normal.
Rain much needed to replenish the dry earth. I pray that the rain reaches the dams and brings them above this critical level. I pray that the rain reaches the country where they need it most, and breathes life into dying towns, dying farms, dying livelihoods. I pray that this long drought may turn.
Thy will be done.
Went walking last night in the rain. Replenished relationships, rebirthed what had been dying, now a little stronger, a little more succulent, roots a little deeper. Dirt on my feet in the shape of thongs, reminding me how we walked. Walked through many a spiderweb, ducked under, darted around, or jumped over others.
Australia Day is coming up in just a couple of days. I've becomes quite patriotic these days. Something about Australia makes my heart ache with love. Maybe it's all the propaganda, or maybe it's a little more than that, but I am so blessed to live in this country. So incredibly blessed. It's so beautiful, and there are so many opportunities and it's built on awesome values. It's nice. Australia Day is "an active celebration of Australian values: mateship, tolerance, a fair go for everyone and hey, not taking life too seriously!" and "It's about looking at our past, considering our present and recommitting to making our future even brighter." Always a good thing to do, I think. Here's something from the Australia Day website. Sure, it's art, and you could call it all lies, but I feel it in my heart. It's something that we strive towards, and there's nothing wrong with that:
The people - The life savers on the beach and the farmers in the bush; the larrikins; our sporting heroes, artists and visionaries; the volunteers who dedicate their lives to others; the spirit of pulling together in hard times and achieving beyond expectation; the eminent Australians from all walks of life, the battlers and the ordinary Australians who are anything but ordinary.
Our land - Fragile yet enduring. Harsh and extreme, lush and bountiful-a continent like no other. Our ancient land offers boundless opportunity, sustains us and makes us who we are.
Our diversity - A nation of difference and unity. People from the city, the country, different nations and backgrounds; we are one people, living together. Through our diverse beliefs and experiences we learn from each other and grow together.
The indigenous cultures - The rich and resilient spirituality; the knowledge, art and history. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples are part of Australia's identity and culture.
Our freedom and democracy - A society built on fundamental rights and responsibilities. Freedom of thought and expression. Participation in government and respect for and equality under the law.
A fair go for all - An enduring spirit of mateship and fairness. A compassionate society committed to access to employment, housing, health and education. Ours is a land of opportunity where we can do anything.

Come spin on bridges with meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-e-e just to keep us warm

There is a lesson that it seems is being constantly drilled into me so that I can really learn it, never forget it.
Last night I watched a movie called 2:37. It traces the lives of a few high school students over one school day. And it really made me remember that lesson. That is, that the little judgements we make on people are so very inadequate, and, often, painful. So this is what I want to do now, something I've considered doing for a long time, something I've thought of writing a story about, to try to tell people this...this fact. How inadequate a moment, a single action, and judgement can be in seeing somebody...I remember...I was thinking about this yesterday, I wrote about this yesterday, before even watching the movie...For example, in the movie there is this guy, Steven, "Uneven" Steven, they called him, because he was born with one leg shorter than the other. He was also born with two urethras, one of which he had no control over, so that he would wet himself at school frequently. When he wetting himself, so much crap was thrown at him. Everybody just assumed he was some freak who pisssed his pants, not even considering he had a medical problem, judging him at face value, first thought that came to mind. Then later he was punched for overhearing something he shouldn't have, came out of the toilet, nose all bloodied, and people assumed he had a nosebleed, the retard that he was...All these people in the movie had some private pain, some private reason for doing as they did. It all had a context that made it understandable, but no one stopped to consider what that might be.
There's another movie, Crash. Characters do these things that would generally make you think, just looking at that action, that they were terrible people. But then the film shows more of their lives, more than just that isolated event, and you see that they're not just black and white, flat evil, but have so much more going on there. They have their own pains, sorrows, dreams, lives. There is a mother, sick, near bedridden. Berates her son for being a terrible son, saying he never comes to see her. Her other son, on the other hand, the one that they haven't seen in ages, bought her groceries. But it was the first that did that. There is another guy, a police officer. We first see him pulling over a black couple. He feels up the wife. But then later we see so much more - the father he looks after who has prostate cancer and cannot sleep for the pain. I cross into some dangerous territory here. Perhaps I seem to be excusing his rape because he has 'issues'. Debates have gone on with my friends about issues like this many times. But that's not what I mean. It's just that...well, can't you feel his pain? You don't have to hate the perpetrator out of some idea that it's justice for the victim, because it doesn't help the victim, it just creates more hate in the world. You can't rid the world of hate by hating, can you?
Well, that is a more contentious issue. Back to the simpler original point...There are times I have made judgements on situations that proved to be so wrong, wrong. Like the time I, in my self righteous pride, told a friend to break up with her boyfriend because she didn't like him anyway, was so cruel to him...but then he later would not get back together with her and she was so depressed. And what about all the times I made a judgement and never actually found out I was mistaken?
At work one time, a woman walked past the ticket boxto her firned. The manager asks if she has a ticket. She says yes, then a few seconds later goes to buy one. That manager sneers to me Funny turn of the Englsih language, when yes means no or something along those lines, loud enough for this woman to hear. I move up to the other end of the candybar to serve, and she comes up to me a says how she was just in a huge rush to get here, and drove from far away and that it didn't feel good at all to have someone say something like that. He makes this snide remark without any thought for the reasons she may have been acting that way. And she is hurt. Reminds me of that times when such things have happened to me, how much those inadequate judgements hurt. Or times when people made comments about what sort of person I was, or how i would be when I grew up or something else I knew was not true, was not me, although it seemed was me to an outside observer. It was situations like that that first made me think Is this a feeling I want to cause in others? How can I go on saying such things when I know how inadequate they are, and how they make one feel?
So that's what i want to share with you. Will you consider this? This of the times in your own life when your judgements and the judgements of others have fallen so short of the truth, have done no justice to the bigger picture. Remember the times when this lesson has been put your way, and so bring a little more compassion into the world, a little more love, to help heal the wounds of all.

I've just been reading the AA book - the Big Book. There is a chapter in there which I would like to share with others.
Chapter 4: We Agnostics
It discusses the reasons why there is a power beyond ourselves. They are so simple, logical, self-evident.
Enjoy