A Fairy Rubber Stamp

The idea of rubber stamps intrigued me when
I became a Government official, what a waste
to stamp only dates, I thought of wonderful
things I’d like to stamp on official documents

Bought a fairy rubber stamp at a craft shop and
stamped my documents and faxes and all my
own books, a superefficient supervisor nearly
fainted on seeing my faxes and outsourcing

forms, on discovering notes in codes I added
those also, but my forays into forbidden territory
were stopped, such frivolity was not becoming in
an official environment, we were not a nurturing

community, we were there to communicate in
formal, professional, concise language without
pictures and symbols interfering, the day this
supervisor resigned she was praised for her

thorough knowledge of government procedures,
while everybody cheered my heart was bleeding
for a life misspent, for time thrown in the wind; then
I discovered the joy of glitter glue

Bought hessian for my desk, spread the glitter glue
all over, this practice was stopped when a colleague
walked into my office and got glitter all over her dress,
afterwards the glue was only applied to

Lists pasted on my wall, nowadays I only dab my fairies
and stones with magical glitter…

Lying Down On The Bed

People talk about writer’s block, well, I’ve got
life block, suddenly I feel too tired to get up,
too thick-headed and woolly, muscles stiffening,
head ballooning, have been dreaming about
an oily Russian sausage for a week, today ate
one illegally, grandma used to give us Russians
and chips on Saturdays, it was better than cake,
tonight we had stew – grandma used to make
it because she fed us on a small budget, now I
really feel strange, when my mind clouds over
it is always due to something I ate, all sounds
becoming too loud, all comedies becoming too
silly, everything feels so heavy, every thought
and feeling are drifting away until I’m left with
an empty brain, I wish I could sleep off this strange
phenomenon - but my stiffening neck and back
makes it impossible, why should food be my biggest
enemy, with this allergy I never look for intrigue
of the common variety, just eating and surviving the
effects are dramatic enough, spiritual authors say
all bodily conditions reflect a mental state, what
kind of attitude is reflected by my body tonight,
suddenly every task turns into an enormous
mountain, my brain stops operating, all systems
close down, I feel as if I’m floating away from
myself, can’t remain in this moment, nothing
to gain by trying again, I give up, lying down on
the bed to remain immobile until feeling
better again…

Taxis To Fill Up With Every Innocent Bystander

Wearing an uncomfortable white blouse,
cut it open at the armholes, looked like a
bag lady, a perfect example of Mrs Tachyon*,
went off to a local shop, bought a big blue
T-shirt in which to hide myself, marched off
to the library to return my books, taxi’s hooting,
at the last robot all pedestrians are herded into
the waiting taxis

When waiting for my lift after work, I have to
fight off taximen insisting I get in with them,
they are paid according to numbers, one has
to run to be free of them, but it feels so nice
hearing all these sounds, like one big Sunday
school picnic, I marched back without being
sidetracked by the myriad taxis, can’t wait to
run off this afternoon and dodge taxis

Waiting to fill up with every innocent bystander…

* A Character in Terry Pratchett, “Johnny and the Bomb”

Thanks To Matt, An Inveterate Reader

Thanks Matt, you made my day, I never thought anybody would read such a long piece! I wanted to shorten it, but since you survived it, and liked it, wonderful, I’m not going to change it immediately.

"Pleasure As Breathing In Simple Delight"
1 Comment -

Matt said...
This is a very nice post. Thank you.

Pleasure As Breathing In Simple Delight

Used to think people ought to be free
to choose suicide as a way out of an
unbearable life, then possibility of
reincarnating into the same kind of life
until mastering it became a strong
possibility, making it inevitable that
we learn to deal with circumstances
without opting out

Choosing death would probably not release
us from the circle of life; might even lead to
repeating a similar life – I decided not to try
it, rather use life as a medium to gather ALL
information, seek insight and wisdom, it’s
better to sacrifice for a desired goal than
choosing short-term delights with no goal
in sight - I became so goal-orientated

Pleasure as breathing in simple delight
became impossible – but I’m learning still,
seeking the rest of meditation, calming our
thoughts, stopping the quest for further
insight; being aware of the pleasure of
breathing – I haven’t reached this goal as
yet, growing bored with nothing to do or
no exploring via my books

My spiritual goals are all ethereal, I have
no proof of anything invisible being true,
except my own experience that as long as
I strive for a positive goal, irrespective of
evidence of truth; life is interesting and
adventurous, as long as I keep dreaming,
lovely things happen to me – I stick to
my positive philosophy of innocence

Not because I am innocent, but I cherish
a sense of wonderment, wise enough to
respect other people’s choices for self-
inflicted pain and protecting a negative
centre of suffering for esoteric gain, I’ve
learnt to turn my eyes towards the sun,
following the things I love, to turn away,
lovingly, from other people’s

Proudly displayed pain, respectfully allowing
them to play out the tragedy they orchestrated
themselves, respecting their need for dark
intrigue, not prescribing remedies, realizing
wisdom lies in total freedom, as long as I
respect their freedom to choose bitterness
and pain, I have freedom myself to choose
happiness and gain

Knowing the universe is benevolent and
abundant, if one ship sails, there are a million
more ready to come into port, ready to fulfill
our dreams; since ability to wonder and dream
is my highest ideal, I can fulfill it anywhere, some
days succeeding in glowing with wonder, other
days wallowing in pain, but always knowing
behind the illusion of life, a deeper truth -

A lovely beginning will put an end
to our human games…

Fairies, Magic, Innocence, Wonderment, Joy

Bruce Coville’s introduction to ‘A Glory of
Unicorns’ states that ‘Unicorns represent
something lost, the ancient wonder of the
natural world, a sense of delight hard to
hold in modern times’

‘A longing for purity, memories of magic, a need
to recover innocence, unicorns carrying hopes
of healing, promises of grace’ – giving me
hope that I was on the right track in my
quest to revive trust in

Fairies, magic, innocence, wonderment, joy and
happiness; I studied grown-up books in my youth,
deeply shocked, ashamed about the state of the
world, deciding to give up on life, until returning
to children’s books

Enchantment, beauty and magic filling my life -
realizing the innocence we grew up without was
mine for the taking - the world is an artwork
in the making, we decide what to put in and
leave out – immediately reinstating

Alice in Wonderland, Tom’s Midnight Garden,
Thomasina, Love of Seven Dolls, The Secret
Garden, Pollyanna, The Little Princess – some
I got to know when I was already older than
twenty-five - trained

In the sadness of Western philosophy – a new
world of magic that I missed as a child became
mine; maybe all kids should read grown-up books
before tackling the eternal beauty and value of
children’s books, choosing their own values

The nature-versus-nurture argument have been
successfully solved by my having a twin sister
who, exposed to the same influences, made
different choices by predisposition, an inner
force guiding our steps

In opposite directions – if kids discovered values
for themselves according to natural predilection,
they would be faithful and true without coercion,
if they were taught to trust natural instincts, they
would choose positive things

Being forced into another’s choices, their instincts
squashed, there are left bereft without an internal
gyroscope, this is why so many criminals are
walking out there, they lost the ability to feel
for themselves what is

The difference between right and wrong…

Bruce Coville 'A Glory of Unicorns’ Scholastic Inc. 1998
Introduction: ‘A Gathering, a Glory’ p.viii

A Stranger’s Mystery

I am sure most people know emotions
come and go in a heady ebb and flow
of chemical stimulation through sensory
observation, touch and sound, thus they
are the most unstable foundation for
enduring love relations

Long-standing relationships are built on
friendship, sharing the same world-view,
values, principles; in short, your thoughts;
when the surge of adrenaline, caused by a
stranger’s mystery, is over, when his snoring
and your own boring conversation

Start eroding your romantic feelings, the
partnership continues if based on loyalty and
devotion to a shared cause; should you base
your life on romantic love, you’d have to change
partners every three months, youngsters
could experiment to see

Whether this lifestyle suits them, they might be
compatible with a one-night-stand lifestyle, it
could keep romance alive indefinitely; until
they’re ill, that is, then they’ll need a loyal
mate; but illness being unromantic
they’ll be on their own…

Cherish Lovely Memories

Went up to the statue of General Hertzog,*
the signs of the wax candles we burnt there
long gone, we melted chocolate for dipping
marshmellows while you were in the army

Afterwards we climbed onto the statue - a
lack of respect, already dark , your brother
still small, your sister young, we had a ball,
veering off into the veld on our bicycles

They showed me all your favourite hang-outs,
we marched everywhere like the three mus-
keteers; I nearly married you just to get hold
of them, and your dad and your mom

Though realizing it would be only us two when I
grew nervous and scared alone with you without
them, nearly froze to death at the southernmost
point where two oceans meet, the warm Indian

And the cold Atlantic, hallucinating along the rugged
mountainside, something warning me we were not
meant to be, I was too immature, needing guidance;
you were too young, a baby yourself

But I’ll always remember the good times we’ve had,
your image lives on in one of my fictional hero’s, I
still hum our song*, your mischievous brother and
sister hold their place in my mind, it was great

To spend time with all of you, I’ll always cherish
the lovely memories…

* At the Union Buildings
* Taraboemdery, My Liewe Stokperdjie

“Sounds of Silence…”

“Take my arms that I might reach you,
hear my words that I might teach you,
but the people bowed and prayed to the
neon god they made… within the sound
– of silence… “

Will you listen, my friend, when I send my
words into your silence, will you stop and
listen to what I say when I let you know
you are in my thoughts where you are
held in the highest esteem, where
your presence makes a difference

Or doesn’t it matter to you what I think, is
my feeling of kindred spirit of no consequence,
have you already decided who may occupy
your mind, am I amongst the elect, or do you
prefer somebody else…

Feel The Love...

Wandered up to the Union Buildings today,
only four blocks away, silver sun creating
emerald trees against a brilliant blue sky with
scintillating white mushrooming clouds, felt
like moving in the jewellery box of the gods,
wanted to stop, but lunch is too short, now
I know where to go to every day at half past
twelve, a group of African men gesticulating
and shouting like happy schoolboys as their
friend drove past in a bright red car, laughing,
creating such an atmosphere of goodwill; my
prayer for today is that my son will find his
missing new school blazer, that my daughter
will enjoy her school day, that hubby will come
home relaxed, that my brother will feel the rays
of love the family sends unto him, bringing
light into all the dark, lonely places…

Waltz To Library, Music In My Ears…

Took my Walkman for a waltz around the block,
earphones tightly pressed against my head,
danced my way through old Leon Schuster songs
about Springbok World Cup victories – 1995 and
2007 – everybody stared with amused glances,
it was the best walk-around-the-block of my life,
I was looking for some privacy since I don’t have
an office, but once the songs were loud and clear,
I didn’t care who saw me, it was the best fun at work
since we moved to open-plan, can’t wait for lunch
to waltz to the library with the music in my ears…

Between Dream And Reality

Started this day without preliminaries,
jumped straight into my document, didn’t
read something else first, typing a list,
meaning I’m adrift in a sea of meaning-
lessness, no anchor to stabilize my mind,
nothing to direct my eye to a predetermined
lodestar, without balance and direction pre-set,
I feel lost and time doesn’t pass

I HAVE to embark on a quest for the Golden Fleece,
anything can become my ideal as long as I have a
thought that can act as the metronome keeping time
indicating progress towards my ideal, or how much I’m
vacillating, sitting here without a purpose for the day
leaves me nervous and without self-confidence, Terry
Pratchett left me high and dry last night with the heroine
turning into a goddess, Lady Summer, where she puts her

Feet, tender tendrils of green start to rise, so magical I can’t
come down to earth, my soul is still caught between the pages
of my book Wintersmith, while life around me seems nonsensical,
I was scared of floating too high and losing track of this life, it
happened again, a form of magic for me, the painful movement
between dream and reality…

Issa And Buddha And Conspiracy

To Mr Conspiracy – How do you know
the new documents are trustworthy
just after determining every well-known
document of before are all concoctions
to enslave mankind into obedience to
power structures, the newly arrived
“ancient documents” are possibly also
the product of a power mentality, con-
cocted to enslave the people in Tibet
and India, all the arguments you level
against current knowledge apply to the
ancient knowledge that were “suppressed”
you say – the new discoveries could be
the result of suppressive schemes dreamt
up by ancient scribes and priests –
NOTHING is worthy of trust, EVERYTHING
being a conspiracy, we are only left with
common sense and rationality, I think it
will serve me very well, thank you very much…

www.tsl.org/Masters/jesus/jesus01.htm - Cached
How can this strange little man possibly know whether
Jesus Christ ever set foot in India? ... this Buddhist
acted like he knew Jesus. ...

Most Sublime Joy In Life

My mind is engrossed in the story I’m reading,
in the adventures of the young Tiffany, I only
come alive while ensconced in the book, the
moment I put it down I’m disorientated, noises
are irritating, voices drive me to distraction, I
HATE the world for interfering with the flow of
the tale, forcing me to live a bodily life while
my mind remains behind in the pages, I can’t
focus, I hate everyone – this is not right, life
shouldn’t become unbearable during mental
flights into other dimensions, I wish I could
come down to earth without pain, moving
between worlds are so devastating, the flight
into new stories is so enchanting, I pay the
price all the time, accepting confusion, every
joy demands sacrifice, hating the transition
periods, but I would never give up reading,
the most sublime joy in life....

Sun Shining Rainbows Through Prisms Of Snow

Long ago and far away an Ice Princess
waited for the snow to melt, believing that
once the frozen wastes were green and
lush, she would be free to go to the land
of the sun

She created beauty by faithfully tracing the
snowflake patterns she loved so much,
having chosen discipline as her goal in
life with beauty her ideal, she was sent to
live in a frozen land

Freezing the passions was the best way to
learn to do one’s duty every day, she loved
the beauty of unblemished white and the
geometric patterns formed by frozen
water drops

Surprised to see that when people thought
of hatred and pain, no patterns formed, the
freezing drops remained ugly; she dreamt
of a better world where people learnt
to guard their thoughts

And formed more beautiful patterns with the
sun shining rainbows through
prisms of snow

Take Up The Yoke Of Duty

Every choice determines the course our lives,
every principle, ideal and objective we adopt
determine our range of action when confronted
with choices between present desires and
previous commitments; we can only choose
personal advantages and pleasures above
honour and allegiances sworn to people or
causes if we have previously decided that
the principle of pleasure is more important
than any other consideration, when a previous
choice forces me to take up the yoke of duty
when I would much rather have followed my
personal star, I always wonder about the
limitations in life…

The Spirit Of Winter 2

Oh, I’ve got to stop, work tomorrow, it’s
half past ten, got to get up early, the story’s
good, but unfolding oh, so slowly, little bits
of events told in so many lines, I don’t want
to rush through the book, but I’ve got to go
to sleep, no fantasy sticks in my head, I
haven’t superimposed my own story yet,
to leave things as they are won’t do, I’ve
got to force the heroine into a spot where
I can embellish the story, otherwise I’ll just
lay awake all night, nowhere to bury my mind
and halt my thoughts and contemplate a
beautiful image, I wish I could conjure a
vision so good, it could sustain me through
tomorrow, I wish I could keep the feeling of
skating on snow in my heart, the excitement
of the idea – the spirit of winter in love with
someone – but my thoughts are so unfocused
as yet...

Terry Pratchett “Wintersmith” Corgi books, 2007

The Spirit Of Winter Is In Love With Her

I’ve got a new book to read, it is a special
treasure, the delight of expectation is so
exquisite, the description so enticing – a
Terry Pratchett, a girl called Tiffany
Aching, the name is perfect

The spirit of winter is in love with her, giving
her roses, icebergs, showers of snowflakes,
it sounds like my own story of an Ice Princess
who is only moved by beauty, nostalgic music
and spiritual bliss

I’m looking forward to this treat, too scared
to begin until I’m sure I won’t be interrupted,
I can kill when engrossed in beauty, to be
called back to reality, staring longingly at
my Discworld novel

First have to collect kids; then see whether
Pratchett’s heroine is as debonair as Susan,
Death’s granddaughter, I love the resonance
of beauty and delight Pratchett creates when
he designs his characters

I love his sardonic one-liners and the
implication that more is going on
than meets the eye...

Terry Pratchett “Wintersmith” Corgi books, 2007

Flame Ignited In My Mind

Lived without ideals and dreams
till the age of nine, then discovered
Planet Serfontein and the elevating
effect of dreams sublime, for the first
time came across a description of noble love

Since then I have never been alone again,
the flame that was ignited in my mind might
wax and wane, but never goes completely out,
I keep it alive by reading the same books, re-
turning to my source text from time to time, re-
maining true to my first ideal after all these years

Planning to hold on tight while awareness lasts –
which might very well be for eternity – and should
I get the chance to grow in love and wisdom, I shall
try to apply all the ideals I have nurtured in my mind;
contrary to everything I have been taught and told in
literature, philosophy, psychology and history

That when people grow up experience kills their
dreams and visions and the only rational way is to
give up everything and conform to the rest of humanity –
I keep my original ideas alive by rethinking them, found
confirmation in spiritual literature, ancient and modern,
experienced the suffocation of religion, now I know
success is never giving up –

I’m so gladI found my dream for myself
when I was nine – not having it forced on
me, having been on a quest for meaning for
nine lonely nihilistic years, without God and
love, finding it for myself and infusing it with
life, it is more precious to me than life itself,
more beautiful and powerful than the
fame and wealth deemed desirable
by modern man…

In Reply To Matt: Lodestar Ideals

[Matt has left a new comment on your post
"Live In A Different World": In a similar vein
I did better at school when I realized the goal
was to get good scores on tests, not to learn.
Sigh. Ideals go the wayside pretty quick.]

Hi Matt, I did pretty average at school and
university because I refused to do what it takes
to get good scores, namely focus only on the
essentials. I wanted to know everything about
a subject - while fellow students drilled high-
scoring facts into their heads, I read reams of
books about the subject and thus could not
provide word-perfect replies to questions –
but knew a lot about the subject. And I keep
my childhood ideals alive, firstly because I
chose them myself, not acquired from church,
I existed in a vacuum until I found my own set
of ideals –since then I have guarded them
jealously. I reread my books where I found
these ideals every few years and seek similar
books to read. When I came across a fictional
hero who stood for nobility, learning, aspiring
to the sublime and highest ideals, I emulated
him – albeit imperfectly – even had a nervous
breakdown as he did. I tried deviating from
these ideals in my twenties, trying a flower-child
lifestyle, but it did not work for me, so I returned
to first ideals as my lodestar, never fulfilling my
ideals, but always aiming for them.

See my next posting, “Flame Ignited In My Mind”
in which I describe this dream of mine, remaining
true to my first and forever fictional hero, the
personification of my lodestar ideals.

Live In A Different World

Now that my new colleague is facing
the same obstacles I have done all
these years, being in government
service, subject to the petty require-
ments of acerbic supervisors, without
reference to objective rationalism or
creative innovation; I can advise her to
play the game, she is here to earn her
salary, not improve anything, not achieve
excellence; she is not allowed to, even
if a doctor does our work and we sign
our names, the work is thrown back again,
the rules are arbitrary, the game idiosyncratic

Take nothing personally, accept no responsibility,
then you can’t be hurt, never shirk from doing
donkey work, repeat like a parrot and accept
changing tastes and ideas, fluctuating moods
and yo-yo instructions – it’s all part of a game
that won’t bring you fame; but enables you to
survive and pay your bills, eat and sleep well
and follow your own dream – just live your life
in a different dimension, just send your need
for achievement into another sphere; never
feel bad when they change everything simply
to show that they can - you will never be able
to satisfy them

You’ll be fine, trust me, I’ve spent a million
years in the system while I live in a
different world myself!

Bling, Pink And Life-Threatening High Heels

Being a prisoner in this endless day, staring
at mannequins with perfect Michael Jackson
noses, identical faces with different expressions
due to lipstick painted differently, my favourite
mannequin dressed in pink today

A combination of bling and pink is highly
dangerous, in one dress I could visualise
my heroine taking a stance and bewitching
her man, as for shoes, I view them as
instruments of torture

Those sharp points and thin, high heels,
I can feel them pinching just looking, I wear
flat common-sense sandals every day, with
the stuff that I saw, Paris Hilton can do her
Barbie-doll role-model imitation

Bling, pink and life-threatening high heels...

11 February 2009 Bereft

Growing tired at work, sitting up straight,
fatigue makes life seem boring, takes the
enchantment out of my soul and leaves me
bereft, my eyes cannot confer magic on the
objects they see, my ears fail to discern
beauty in the music playing in my ears,
my head is heating up as toxins course
through my veins, look at magical formulae
and doubt whether they will work for me, fear
to appropriate positive messages, losing
the ability to believe positive ideas
in a growing need for sleep, to
replenish flagging energy...

Our Point Of View - Hi Matt...

Matt left a new comment on "Oh Joy Is Me" -

Hi Matt, Our eyes confer meaning, the meaning we
think we see is actually the meaning we give to things.
Everything can appear banal - or enchanting - depending
on our point of view. Once I discovered that my dad
walked around like a little boy, in wonderment and
awe of this big, beautiful world, still buying train sets
and toys and still in love with sunsets, babies and all
things of natural wood, I realized HE has this source
of magic in him, and I wanted to emulate him.
Everything appears differently to each individual,
the world reflects our own face back at us. YOU
are the source of the feelings evoked by what you
see and only you can look with wondering eyes.
Thank you for comments that make me stop
and think!

[I agree, there are always compensations. I shouldn't
admit this, but I liked Japan better before I could
read the advertisements on the trains. After I
learned to read them, I realized they were quite
banal. Nevertheless, even among things banal
there's a thread of something ... I really don't
know. We must keep searching. That's the key,
I suppose. Thank you for putting up
with my comments!]

Tiaan Looks Angelic

Tiaan looks so very angelic in his
high school wear, his mother thinks
him quite adorable, his father sighs
in grief, he is stuck with all the
projects because they have to
build these little wooden stalls

Soon enough the kids will be grown,
we shall be on our own, how I shall
miss these years, how wonderful to
have them with us, kids are loaned
to parents for a few short years to
teach adults all about the
magic of existence…

Oh Joy Is Me

Well, Matt, thank you for the advice,
there are compensations...

9 February 2009:
I’m amused and intrigued, the mystery and
suspense of being a government official –
after being in overdrive and cooling us to
the point of freezing, the air-con system
broke down again, and we’re sweltering
in the heat in the building without windows
that can open – Harry Potter and his cohorts
can’t even fly in and out, we’re stuck where
we are without fresh air all day long, “Hear
my song of joy to you, it is a melody of air-
con fantasy”, the irony of it all is stupefying,
what joy to live in modern society, with James-
Bond magic in technological innovations that
seem to be failing just to keep us on tenterhooks …

08:10 - Oh no, the happy clucking in the open
office chicken-coop this morning is too much for
me, I had better look for sanity someplace else –
“I could have slept all night, I could have slept
all night, and still have slept some more, I could
have closed my eyes and dreamt a thousand
lies, and still have slept some more, I’ll never
know what makes it so exciting, to sleep and
fantasize – I only know when I begin to close
my eyes, visions in my mind, I could have
slept my whole life long!”

07:10 - A Monday morning of primordial creation,
the sun buried in the beautiful mist rising from
the earth, the ordinary world is gone and
the original paradise in all its pristine beauty
changes our early morning trip into a
heavenly experience…

Escape My Mind…

I need to escape my mind, I need to go off
to another plane of existence, life should be
a game, it cannot remain the same, to end the
day in the same way it started is a terrible shame,
please, PLEASE call my name, please offer me a
new form of existence , don’t let me continue doing
the same things over and over again, the same ac-
tivities, the same inanities, the same kind of life –
when will things change into something new, when
will I take charge of my life instead of waiting for
the pianos falling on my head, instead of wishing
that my body was dead – so that my mind and
thoughts could be set free to discover other di-
mensions, to visit the astral aspect of subliminal
reality; I know Robert Monroe did it while still alive
in his body; but my body and mind have been locked
up; I buried my passions when still a child, shocked
by all I read about the world and my culture, determined
to never earn the scorn of the vultures who call them-
selves the guardians of morality- but who are more
depraved than most of the people they condemn in
their loveless, unwise stupidity and self-righteous
judgment proving their hatred for mankind…

Alone Worried About Your Own

Lived through this day of a thousand years,
nobody near - no-one replied to my sighs,
nobody noticed the suffering and tears; the
day was clear, yet I could not settle with my
book, read for a few minutes; the battle be-
tween the Big Bang and Steady-State Theory
heating up, yet it did not touch my heart

I remained in chains today, did not escape
sensory reality, did not make the flight into the
wide beyond, did not get out of my head as planned,
did not leave my body at all, a wasted day, time
stood still and nothing happened, why should I
lose time like this? Oh, but I spoke to
the lady in the library, she claimed

We don’t have to know or care about everything;
as long as she followed her creed, she need not
ever know anything about another human being;
I suppose that’s right, the LORD, whoever your
Lord may be, alone should be worried about
all others; while you should only ever care
about your own…

Passionate Love I Was Scared Of

When I was small I decided never to fall
in love, it seemed much too dangerous,
people are irresponsible and emotions
irrational, I followed my own advice and
never fell in love, at the sign of infatuation
I would run a mile, thus I made sure my
heart could not be broken, when I read
about the pain suffered through unrequited
love and untimely death as described in
a story about people with artistic tempe-
raments, I made up my mind never to
become such a kind of person, I locked
up my heart and threw away the key

I wanted to live a “rational, common-sense
life”, though it was difficult with my heart in
cold storage – melting in little bits, but I still
insisted on living my life in small chunks to
prevent emotional overload; today I wonder
what would have happened if I had lived life
as it came - giving free rein to spontaneous
emotions instead of creating a role for myself
and trying to live up to my own demands and
ideals and hurting so much in the process –
would a passionate life have been more
painful, would I have been able to deal with
that kind of ache?

Rereading my childhood book, feeling the same
second-hand pain caused by the sorrows of
the characters, I realized why I had made that
decision so long ago and locked up my choice
in a mental steel safe – will death blow that
decision away and open my awareness to the
kind of passionate love I was scared of in life?

Genetics - Computers And Software

Genetics - my mother
on the right when she
was small, me on the left,
twenty-two years of age,
it seems the smile is
almost the same -
Yet the choices we make
in terms of lifestyle
and ideas can be
diametrically opposite - maybe
genetics is all about the body as
a computer - our choices and ideas
being the software - junk thoughts in, junk thoughts out - we are predisposed
to make certain choices, some things
simply attract us more than others...

No, Not Again

I still can't upload pictures at home, which
means I have to find a computer somewhere else
to put pictures to my stuff, why, why, why?

Pride And Grim Determination

It’s incredibly bad when a headache lifts,
creating false joy, just to descend again
when the hapless sufferers submerge
themselves in happy activity, just to feel
the swelling becoming twice as bad than
before, to find it more impossible to
concentrate, finding nothing in the outside
world can stir their passions because the
physical discomfort is too big to allow any
other sentiment than pride and grim de-
termination to present a positive face to
the world; to escape the melodramatic
sympathy of too-gentle folks who always
exclaim ‘Shame!’ when hearing about the
sufferers’ plight, then recount their own
medical history of successful treatment,
making it clear that you are a fool for not
having visited the same specialist – I’ve
followed the specialists and treatments
of other Know-It-Alls before and they were
all unqualified disasters, so please keep
your history to yourself and let me suffer in
peace, let me treasure my negative core of
discomfort in relative ease…

The Black-Hole Feeling In My Head

Enjoyed two marvelous days at work, Tuesday
and Wednesday, managed to keep the allergy
at bay, after a weekend of illegal eating, venison
with spices and chicken in marinade, slabs of
chocolate, and horror of horrors, a Monday pizza

I enjoyed the unusual good humour that had me
singing and laughing at work, tonight came the let-
down, the headache and growing fatigue, my eyes
growing weak, lost concentration – time to slack
off, I lay on your knees while you watched TV, but

Couldn’t sleep, took medication and went to bed,
remembering my fantasy of earlier today – yet
resignedly accepting that it had lost its effect, my
system went into shut-down, like an overloaded
computer simply informing the disillusioned user

All documents will be closed, then proceeding to lose
all data unsaved – although I used to think my store
of facts would be lost, it felt so real, this terrible black
-hole gravitational power imploding in my head;
seemingly sucking in even light quanta

But maybe because I repeat everything as if at least
five persons are learning separately, I do retain some-
thing – just feeling a desperate need to repeat them
again, five times or more, just to make sure; I
fear the black-hole feeling in my head

Making it seem information goes in to disappear –
never to surface again…

Windmill Of Officialdom

Found enchanting pictures on the Internet,
staring in delight while my colleagues see
red, all figures to be redone, old documents
to be reassessed and to what end - simply
to make some bigwig look good, who had
never been involved in the process, who cut
our budget, making us look atrocious, who
needs window-dressing

Staring at hurricanes and resembling galaxies,
mental hurricanes blowing through the office, our
local novice quietly forging on, not sure yet where
the sun rises and where it should set, the rest of us
charge ahead with the zeal of a pack of hyenas, ready
to attack and destroy the rhinos of problems blocking
our path to private nirvana, carefully ignoring the
production sheet on my screen

Doing only one little thing before dragging my feet, digging
on the Internet for pictures of Walt Disney’s Fantasia, the
fairies skating to the music of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker
Suite, an additional dimension to embellish documents
lacking pictures, my soul revolts against them, besides,
Sancho Panza within me is dreaming with Don Quixote
about how to attack the windmill of officialdom…

Hurricane Ivan

A Spiral Milky Way Galaxy is a terrible hurricane
in the sky - see how hurricane Ivan resembles the
picture of our Galaxy – isn’t it strange how nature
repeats itself, creating all things by means
of vortexes flying in pinwheel streams?

The Ice Princess - Origins

Walt Disney listened to the Nutcracker Suite
by Tchaikovsky and illustrated it the way he
visualised fairies would dance; the Ice Princess
saw how the flew over the ice and just knew
that is what she would do - invite Crystalline
to skate with her right into Xanado...

Fight This Churning Four-Legged Beast

I wish I were not so set on following the Man
of la Mancha, I wish I did not play the role of
Sancho Panza who chose him for a leader;
but no, only Quixotic quests will do for me,
fighting windmills and any soul-destroying
thing I see – the monthly sword fight that
leaves me bloody and hurt and broken is
the fight against the ubiquitous production
sheet, it goes against my grain to write down
every deed, account for every moment I
breathe; I fight this churning four-legged
beast desperately, although I know it is but
a windmill – it still seems like the devil to me

To brag with every little thing I have done, to
say at what time I stared at the screen and
when I went down the street or skipped down
the passage, feels like self-betrayal and more,
like betrayal of al ideals regarding freedom and
rationality, yet to fight the beast reveals a total
lack of wisdom – nay, of love, a lack of self-love
and love for the authorities to whom I’ve sold my
soul for a salary, if I really had a good image of
self and a John C. Maxwellian conscience, I
would have filled in my production sheet on a
daily basis, yet it seems like the fulfillment of
the book “1984”or Alvin Toffler’s “Future Shock”

My subconscious believes it is my god-given duty
to fight against administrative enslavement and the
mass extinction of imagination and free will – please,
please allow me to let go of my irrational prejudices
against a man-made system that brings so much joy
to humanity, please enable me to fill in forms with joy,
account for every moment of my life on earth, restrict
my mind to the administrative moment at work, enjoy
painstaking research – whoa, wait a minute, however
much I desire to do translation work, dot all the i’s and
cross all the t’s, I realize a miracle of such magnitude
is too much to ask, probably because self-deprecation
will kill my soul, living in a body without a soul is as good
as becoming a ghoul, I would rather be a zombie – or a
blood-sucking vampire, a parasite – there must be a way
to fulfill duty and still be myself – if only I could find it…

Sunday 1 February 2009

It’s growing later and so grows
my fear for the rebel living within
my soul, the unwillingness to do
senseless things simply required
to make time pass, to earn money,
playing games with little rules and
merit determined by how well we
keep the useless rules

How excellent meaningless lists
are compiled, how long we stared
at useless texts compiled by people
with nothing else to do than play finite
games with idiosyncratic rules, doing
things that hold no advantages nor
change the fundamentals in life

To be judged by posterity for our dexterity
in applying our brains to childish pursuits for
which we are paid so we can take medicine to
keep playing the same useless game…