Shrinking (Revised)

Why does a conversational ploy that charms

one colleague fall flat on its face for others?

When I enact a little tragi-comedy for Hanlie 

she embroiders the tales I tell, brings out the

hidden glitter in every situation and adds joy

by weaving her wan spell –

but when I share the same anecdote with

other colleagues my story loses its appeal,

I feel guilt and fatigue, and the story shrivels

up and dies; a more robust, feisty colleague

simply kills the story by pulling down corners

of her mouth –

thus, with Hanlie on leave, I already know

why life at work keeps shrinking

[ORIGINAL:]

Why is it that a conversation ploy that works like

a charm with one colleague, falls flat on its face

when tried on others? When I enact a little tragi-

comedy for Hanlie, she embroiders the tales I tell,

brings out the hidden glitter in every situation and

adds joy by weaving her own spell - but when I

share the same anecdote with other colleagues

my stories suddenly lose their appeal, I feel guilt

and fatigue, sorry for taking up their time and the

story simply shrivels up and die; a more robust,

feisty colleague simply kills a story betimes by

pulling down the corners of her mouth at my

approach - with Hanlie on leave, life keeps

shrinking

Tuesday 15 May 2012

How can I even start to concentrate when my mind has been mashed

into a pulp by emotion and not a spark of intelligence is left so I have

nothing to think with? Descartes said ‘I think, therefore I am’ - but

professor Damasio – of the Phineas Gage case – said it should

be ‘I FEEL, therefore I am…’

I Know My Problems! (Revised)

They create TV series showing people under

emotional stress continuing their work – well,

according to books people do that, probably –

ideally – but I can’t, I can’t do a thing

Reality is unbearably powerful and big, my

alternative universe is small, unreachable, high

hopes I had of being able to deal with this day

evaporates under that heady realisation

No problem at home has been resolved, only

clearly labelled, painstakingly filed – for later

attention – meantime, I have work on my

desk – yet my mind refuses

To complete circuits required to bring about

logical thinking, looking up things and writing

down lines; but at least I know my problems

are psychological

Ready To Explode

Wanted to share my feelings, tell someone
how I felt and you were the only one about
but as I did so you got angry, why, what did
I expect you to do - you growled - growing
angry already - nothing, I sighed - wanted
to get this off my chest but since you can-
not deal with it, total change of plans
 
No more confidence; what is for dinner, what
on TV, how are you doing, isn’t it great when
the sun shows a few rays – the feelings will
have to wait until I am alone, self-pity will re-
lieve the shock caused by the ball-bearings
in my brain just snapping like that, I need
to unload the heartache - to become
 
The calm quiet person I am required to be;
I shall let off steam by crying into the soap-
suds and describing my feelings on paper
yet impossible being embarrassed about
illegal feelings; only self-confidence is
allowed to exist, all else resembles a
landmine ready to explode

A Terrible Grey Day

Mayday, Mayday, Mayday – this is such a terrible grey day!

Cannot get back all the bits and pieces of my mind that scattered

last night in menacing dreams, why should the Humpty Dumpty

effect take place during the night and leave me bereft on a cold,

grey morning without the sunshine that normally puts my

world together again?

Though the excessively grey sky looks threatening and ominous, it

carries a promise of rainfall and we need it so much; yesterday out

for a stroll a low sky without blue and sunshine made me feel hemmed

in and the conversation never got off, I remember a program on

Deutsche Welle, a little girl waking up screaming, crying

Her foot swollen beyond recognition, the shock, Knochenarzt, another

little girl who had lost her leg in a tractor incident, how to deal with it -

need to delete these images from a mind that cannot understand why

these things were allowed to happen – there is such a thing as free-

dom – but why should it lead to these kinds of accidents…

Luckily hot coffee and Ivan’s poem “No Heroes To A Man” http://igorevich.blogspot.com.au/2006/11/no-heroes-to-man-these-bruised-and.html saved me temporarily…

Just Mischievous

Drove home happily until I hit the wipers on the left
seeking the elusive indicators and then the little car
mocked me with a wiper determinedly cleaning a dry
windscreen on this sunny day, other motorists staring
uncomprehendingly, I could not switch on the radio
or change the air-con to cool my burning face –

Got home safely to discover my eyes out of focus
the undercover agent had probably spiked the pie
she forced on me in confirmation of the adventurous
Agatha Christie I finished tonight, called The Secret
Adversary, Tommy and Tuppence forming Young
Adventurer’s Club, an artificial unbelievable story

Yet the imaginative yarn carried me away, the under-
stated marriage proposal on the last page the perfect
introduction to Mrs Blenkensop, their later adventures
I recall from other marvellous books, never knew where
Tommy and Tuppence came from, now I do, they seem
utterly charming - with the wipers sorted out

My little car will be so charming also – actually, it is
already delightful, just mischievous I suppose…

The Quiet Path

Friday afternoon fatigue, chocolate
counterpoint against chips and tea,
an undercover spy posing as a kind
saleslady refuses me a Russian roll
I end up eating a cheese-steak pie

No longer able to make my way on
the quiet path between Soul Music
& an article on the square kilometre
telescope array - warning the poor
might just steal radio antenna sets

Since government invests in street
name changes only, Pretoria to be-
come Tshwane which rhymes with
Polokwane; being concerned with
petty things the telescope seems

A bit of an overkill for a populace
struggling with life on earth - - no
sympathy for astronomy’s grand
ideal of mapping heaven the last
frontier – mine is to get home

In one piece…

Limited To Three Dimensions

Finally read the last book in my favourite children’s
series in which Stella Blakemore brought all threads
together, explaining desire to follow lines connecting
all holy places on earth, to throw off the yoke, follow
the dream of a great pilgrimage to experience great
myths embodying humankind’s ideals - or to escape
responsibilities when too tired to make sense of our
lives when people differ too much for understanding
the meaning of love

Those characters who still live in my mind, dealth with
situations which explained how to deal with a lack
of communication - and too much devotion for all
the wrong reasons, illustrating why my favourite
professor and his wife grew apart - how false
sentiment engendered by admiration for talent
can be placed in perspective – maybe it would
have been meaningless in 1974 when printed
who knows -

But today it illustrates synchronicity, based on the
principle of ley lines and sacred geography, at that
time I would have concentrated only on Lohengrin,
its multifaceted story complements my theory that
reality is infinitely rich and every fantasy provides
a focus on one main theme, offering perspective
within which we can view ALL of reality until we
change to the next code - present the symphony
of life in a new way, changing everything

I love this feeling on reading something that makes
me feel too inspired to return to sensory perception
llimited to three dimensions…

Stella Blakemore – “Unwelcome at Keurboslaan”
JL Van Schaik, 1974

………………14 April 2012

Treasured And Adored

Watching you with adoring eyes
preparing oxtail with expertise
braising after seasoning, following
recipes, adding Merlot contrary
to cook's directive

While your loving care brings total
absolution of a million sins - all
impatience and harsh remarks
forgotten, all differences and
arguments buried

As you show your sterling core of
sweetness jumping around in the
kitchen – you shall always be
treasured and adored

For Martin 8 April 2012

Solo Flights

Woke up to the scary fact that I have no
book to read, after completing household
chores ran off to Tall Stories, second-hand
bookstore, got hold of “From Atlantis to the
Sphinx” by Colin Wilson, left on a quest for
ancient wisdom led by John Anthony West
assisted by Robert Schoch, palaeontologist,
travelling to rain-weathered Sphinx, studying
the Piri Reis Map detailing Antarctica before
ice covered everything; my loved ones mes-
merised watching great rugby wars on TV -
while I’m taking solo flights to pre-history

“From Atlantis to the Sphinx” by Colin Wilson,
Virgin Books 2000
Pp 1-108

7 April 2012

Torturous

In April - quite some time ago - her
mother died in a sea of flames, but
the wound is still raw, she cannot
forget how little time they spent
together

In April last year her partner died in an
accident that left her knee injured for
life; this April brought the death of his
mother also - my child, the only thing
left is trying to

Load the dice on your behalf, impossible
to know the cause of your torturous route
through a tragic life - by visualising future
happiness in meditation, I’m trying to
enlist the help

Of universal forces and love - to attract more
prosperity and joy for you; take shelter with
us as a safe refuge - start to focus on visions
that will lead to fulfilment of dreams…

*********************************
Carine’s partner Nico died on 29 April 2011
and we have received word that his mother,
Katinka, died this morning 4 April 2012 –
and Carine’s own mother Leonie also died
in April quite a few years ago – April has
become such a scary month for her; the
only recourse left for her stepmother is
to pray for her future happiness…

Stellionate

For the first time came across
stellionate, a definite term for
being indiscriminate, sell the
same property to two different
people at once, the source of
infinite fun, passionate about
words, I’m obstinate when
I find a new one

Cannot do any work then,
importunate colleagues by
playing with words all day
long, a disproportionate
amount of time spent on
unimportant details, thus
irking my supervisor only
quasi-affectionate towards

Sound, just function, meaning
and specific definition are ever
allowed to exist in the
stellar world of officially
sanctioned dictionaries


http://www.wordmeaning.org/Stellionate.htm

[L. stellionatus cozenage, trickery, fr. stellio –
a newt, a crafty, knavish person]

Head On Fire

My head on fire, a dire situation,
mentally disoriented, confused,
eyes swollen, time of reckoning,
pay for the lovely cream caramel
evening, the pressure in my head
excruciating, must learn to deal
with consequences of eating with
courage, I could have refused to
taste it last night, could have sat
in a corner while everybody else
was feasting – then I would have
succumbed to self-pity last night
already, at least this way the fun
came first before the reckoning,
no use feeling bad ALL the time
the food divine helps me to enjoy
my life, even if I pay more than
I bargained for – but living with-
out feasting is worse, I have tried
it before…

Diary Note 2 April 2012

A celebratory event, proof we can make it to the
end, fantastic sweet chili chicken salad, mixed
berries dessert, not my usual bland fare, I knew
a price would be exacted in the end

Here I am, paying up, if every second is counted
as a cent I am paying millions for the wonderful
meal, I have lost my intellect – not that I need it,
we are supposed to exist like vegetables –

And ability to feel or at least, be rational – I feel
alone, deserted, nobody left; a secret I guard to
prevent others from laughing at these irrational
fears, pride keeping me upright in my chair

Diary Notes 1 April 2012

Today I am determined to flee all causes of depression,
the weather is one of them, reading the newspaper an
unqualified disaster, the books I read yesterday led to
a feeling of nihilism, watching TV is dangerous, the
program “Hoarders” where people collect trash until
they drown in houses like garbage dumps made me
feel I have to get rid of all my papers and books, that
life is useless - at least I tidied my cupboard, put old
clothes in a bag for collection by those who knock on
the door insisting they will take anything; threw away
old magazines…

Last night I finished reading “Feet of Clay” in which the
religious groups of the Discworld called the Golems
abominable, just like those on the Internet who call the
Bible Code evil – I respect the right of people to wear
blinkers and call everything evil which they cannot stand
in their self-righteous indignation, as long as I never meet
them; so much wilful acceptance of mental handcuffs is
unsettling, and their self-declared intention to take every
free-thinking human being hostage gives rise to a feeling
of such hostility which I do not wish to experience and
will not allow in my little life

So today I am trying to steer clear of all unsettling ideas,
washed dishes and turned all my aggression on ants
proliferating in cupboards, put all the cookies in glass
containers with plastics lids; today I am a useful member
of society, but upon finishing this the threat of what to do
next looms again, I could start on the files in the kitchen
cupboards but that could lead to an attack of anxiety so
rather try watching episodes of Hauntings which Nici
faithfully recorded; though when the haunted victims
start saying ‘and then I grew scared’ and go on repeating
the theme, ‘that’s when I REALLY grew scared‘

I need all my self-control not to shout Obviously! - when
doors open and close and children are bumped out of bed
and something tries to strangle your husband – obviously
you got scared, if you did not, you would be in need of a
straightjacket, or do you think the viewer is flabbergasted
by an ‘unknown alien’ reaction of being scared of invisible
forces messing up your house and threatening your life?
How idiotic to state the obvious over and over – ad infinitum…

Quite Miserable

Ended up watching ‘Shake It Up’ Disney Channel
because no more 'Big Bang Theory' - 'Good Luck
Charlie' marvelous with a baby and dancing - a lil
bit of fun while the men are watching 'Top Gear' on
wide-screen TV - then 'Wizards of Waverley Place'

Ready to return to 'A Caribbean Mystery' by Agatha
Christie – Miss Marple being kind while Mr Rafiel
is inconsiderate, protagonists in horrible pairs and
worldly-wise, empty life-style being unfaithful, fine
if you are so inclined - I washed the dishes

Ankle starting to ache again, pain acute standing
too long – tomorrow I’ll be circumspect but right
now life not so good, I am alone and confused
like Christie’s protagonist, I wish I were Miss
Marple herself, she has a lot of fun

While I am quite miserable!

28 March 2012

Twittering Like Miss Marple

Some of my innocent, Calvinistic colleagues cannot
stand friendliness, so when I get angry with them, I
simply start twittering just like Miss Marple, tottering
to them to share all my woes interspersed with my
always unappreciated jokes - some roll their eyes -
others flee, one or two listen for a moment or two
with superficial glee until they run away suddenly

Satisfied to have done my duty, taken my revenge
on a meaningless world, I return to my desk, ready
to catch any new victim, though when I’m garrulous
it is amazing how few people come in my direction,
it gives me immense satisfaction to penetrate the
social section for a few days – when I’m thoroughly
despised by all and the atmosphere turns hostile

I turn back into my mind, contemplate books and
theories, science and ideas, collecting new material
with which to drive hubby insane, terrorise the kids
and irritate brilliant scholars and great learned men
trying to indoctrinate the world to believe that we are
even more idiotic than we think – though I am on the
brink of understanding what they mean given

The books that I read about mental disorder and in-
stability and the programs on TV where razor sharp
voices belt out songs that hurt my ears in proof that
humanity’s IQ is rather low, EQ is zero and falling…

Look Forward To Being Robbed

Great, now I have fever and backache and stiff neck
and a sore ankle and cannot sleep, covered my head
and neck with Vicks, rolled myself into an old sheet
lay down but cannot sleep, listening to the sound of
criminals proceeding outside – or so it seems –

Planning a welcoming speech so they would not feel
unwelcome - what sort of life do I lead when I look
forward to being robbed - realising no such luck I got
up, ready to watch bland TV, cheesy Ballande with
long stick insect legs balancing on stiletto heels

Women falling over trying to seduce with evocative move-
ments which make me wish for insecticide - wearing thin
strips of material, the budget does not allow for ball gowns,
contestants have to look great in remnants & feathers, men
wearing jeans - the chattering presenter’s raucous voice

Like incessant machine gun fire, she is so pretty but makes
such a terrible noise – where are the criminals and burglars
and housebreakers and thugs when you need them, how
can I prove that I shall be good to them if they do not try
breaking and entering, what use is all we have learnt

About self-defence if we never get a chance to use these
techniques; why am I reduced to watching Ballando when
Lyall Watson’s moon and electro-magnetic sunspots make
life unbearable?

Diary Notes 26 March 2012

Today was a total disaster, never shall I ever wear red again,
with my red face – completely against the decrees of haute
couture - it looked awful, after walking the treadmill as per
my daughter’s instruction, the red is spreading…

Misunderstandings in the office meant I leopard-crawled every-
where, sailed on my belly and felt like a worm – hubby felt no
sympathy, just laughed and told me to start accept my disaster
of a life, at least the bitterness is leaving, I’m resigned

As long as I keep the innermost part of my heart intact, protect
the sweetest dreams from reality’s attack, I should be safe...

Literary Masterpiece

Rocked up at work, all confused,
we discussed books we loved as
kids, Hanlie reminiscences about
Bible and Vicky Villard Stories - I
recall a garage stacked with book-
club detective novels, hands killing
victims by giving them a fright in the
night, she read comic books at school

We got gargantuan amounts of photo-
books from grandma De Lange while
grandma Alice subscribed to Reader’s
Digest, we read Shangri-La and Beau
Geste so condensed - they lacked all
fire and spice, only an outline left, then
I tried tackling a document, International
Warrant of Arrest - my mind wandering

Listening to an André Rieu DVD playing
because cold silence punctuated by the
tapping of keyboards is a symbol of the
end of all life; with Carmen and Zorba on
my earphones engaging my heart, I shall
try again to relay the quaint legalese of
the warrant of arrest, a literary masterpiece

More Exalted Cause

Finally succumbing to intolerance and allergy
symptoms, eyes completely out of focus, neck
muscles tightening then collapsing, sitting here
in sheer torture, no wonder I resonate well with
the suffering of martyrs, no surprise I want to
link it to a more exalted cause

Feeling this bad for something trivial is useless,
given I’m supposed to translate The Troll Inter-
pol’s messages regarding criminals defrauding
each other, killing and maiming one another –
honest men seldom get involved as they have
nothing to begin with -

Cheeks burning, ears aching, brain shrinking in
depression; constructive pain should teach me
never to eat fatty food again - spirituals kindly
declare with ascetic mouths - begging next
to a rice bowl the only future for me; only
rice has a negative effect also

Maybe feeding on yak-butter tea as Tibetan
Monk might have been an option if only
my system could process fatty stuff...