The Fascinated Reader

The message I found in Good Omens is that the
world is a most interesting place, boring kids
out of their minds is the reason so many people
end up depressed, the mind-numbing world of
religion and fear for the supernatural reduce
it to a boring visual phenomenon between an
even more boring heaven and hell

Brilliant satirists like Terry Pratchett and Neil
Gaiman point out its multilayered aspects - more
perspectives than quantum physics can dream of,
though they poke fun at the gullible and stupid,
they create awareness of the infinite possibilities
of the human mind; strengthen my faith in un-
sullied youth as the perfect medium to showcase

Amazing probabilities and the ability to freely
improvise with New Age material - I have been shot
into orbit by their fun-filled story which underlines
the freedom of humankind to make our own choices;
create the kind of world we live in - and they present
philosophic concepts in humorous form; I'm struggling
to wake up; the book acts like a drug

Sending the fascinated reader into a parallel universe
where horror is bathed in the warmth of cheerful
delight, if only my mind would return so I can
work again...

Light Of My Trust

Sitting under the broom tree with you
is a blessing in disguise, I discovered
So You Think You Can Dance and did
not lose my mind on finding I can-
not format my Lease Agreement

Calm like a resigned nun sitting under
the tree with you, watching the world go
by, unconcerned - as if Arthur Janov’s
primal scream moment is over and my
soul is satisfied, glad to find you here

In this quiet place, great to just relax and
wait for the storms in life to pass, I know
the source of your pain and you need not
say a word to explain, I am here to see you
through your personal Armageddon

Trusting the answers you are seeking will
come to you and you shall make a plan to
keep your land as your anchor is here with
the soil that you love, once you get up and
continue on your rocky way to the top

The light of my trust will make you strong

Under The Broom Tree (Rev.)

Looked under the broom tree for you, evicted
Elijah who’d been there too long, sat myself at
your side knowing you’re restrained by despair
to remain mute, eyes focussed within

You weigh options past, unsatisfied with what
life’s become; while respecting your need for
solitary meditation I won’t stay away, won’t
utter a word, understand your vicissitudes

I know your need to find your own way out of
confusion dogging your tread – keeping all my
ideas quiet as you must resolve life’s riddles
and mysteries all by yourself

There’s no forcing a solution on you, when I go
to my duty part of me stays under the broom
tree, thoughts of support and affection remain
with you so you’re never alone

I shall return as soon as time permits because
I know the lonely hour, the darkness of despair,
I wish to share these dark moments with you –
to help you through…

FAR AWAY

I learnt the universe is infinitely huge; not
confined to the Milky Way Galaxy as I had
read in Arthur Mee’s Children’s Encyclopaedia
when I was small - there are infinite galaxies;
a stupendous discovery that left me high
with excitement

I was enthralled by Vincent Gaddis’ Invisible
Horizons and The Secret Life Of Plants early
in life, later discovering Charles Fort and his
rains of fishes and strange footprints which
just added grist to my mill

Erich von Daniken and Zechariah Sitchin
destroyed all fear of a prosaic life; the small,
Calvinist world of my youth with pain and duty
was reduced to a miniscule part of this
wonderfully exciting inter-subjective
illusion

Reading about Atlantis, Lemuria, Mu and
ancients astronauts gives me infinite delight,
I became an instant a Pyramidiot on discovery
of Graham Hancock, Charles Bauval’s and
Wayne Herchel’s theories – and I keep
reading Charles von Berlitz’s books

I love the mystery of the disappearance of the
Marie Celeste, the lost fighter pilots and ships
in Bermuda’s green mist, enchanted by accounts
of the Philadelphia Experiment and explanations
of crew men in deep freeze

I am amazed by occult mediums introduced by
Arthur Findlay and Arthur Conan Doyle’s support
for attempts to probe consciousness surviving
physical life; and I ponder Peter Wilcock’s
hexagonal distribution of galaxy
structures

I enjoy reading about extraterrestrial contacts,
octaves of colours, sounds and forms, Mayan
prophecies, astrogenetics by Maurice Cotterel
and Lyall Watson explaining Chladni’s figures
making geometric patterns in sand, grounding
Dr Emoto’s ideas on water crystals

I am amazed by quantum physics, quarks and Many
World’s theory, adore the holographic universe, am
thrilled by pyramids being built without identifiable
technology, by OOPARTS and ziggurats and
ancient alien visitors from the stars –

- and I must live in a prosaic world of boredom, no
accomplishment and squashed dreams – thank
heaven, Terry Pratchett saves me from all this by
recording, expanding and embroidering the ideas
and theories I love

Presenting by mouth of his youthful characters,
combining mystery and fun, speculation and free
imagination in one heady mixture that sets my
imagination alight, takes me on spiritual flights,
far, far away from this little life…

Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman,
Corgi Books, 2006

The Only Protection

Another Saturday night – I always end up on
the Greek channel at this time, after watching
the film Argentina; Madonna, Andrew Lloyd
Webber and Antonio Banderas

Preaching to Nici about the dangers of giving
cult status to yourself and to others, making
yourself into a saint - worshipping another
who seems so high on a pedestal

Nici simply waxed sarcastic and walked away
I am left with the strange nostalgic music of the
Greek program, not understanding a word, my
heart still shocked by Evita’s story

Her strange progress through life - compared to
my astrogenetic sign, the crab, needing security,
I could never accomplish feats like that - and -
in the end it all went bad

It reminds me of Chinese Master Suma Ching
Hai turned into a fashion icon - hair bleached,
claiming she won insight in Tibet - making me
wonder about Helena Blavatsky

Did she create new entities and does Theosophy
make sense – the only comfort is the safety of
humility based on spiritual conviction, it is
the only protection we shall ever get…

[The discomfort of my back reminds me I ate a Margarita
pizza on Friday night, allergic reaction, developing a
hunchback à la Quasimodo, the people on the Greek
channel not dancing – my reason for watching their
antics - without that, their program does not
enchant]

The Damien-kid

Hunting for recipe books in the bookshop, I bought
Good Omens, what FUN, the Damien-kid playing
Spanish Inquisition, dunking the witch, a little girl
tied to a chair, in the pond until the Inquisitors so
hot, they dunked themselves

Never thought of playing this when I was small, just
danced around in my mother’s wide dress and sang
songs, my brothers’ gang sat on the rafters, tried
sleeping in a hole in the ground though it got too
cold and they crept back inside

A theme running like gold thread through the book
all tapes turn into Queen’s music if left in the car for
too long, Freddy Mercury replacing the classics to
the demon’s chagrin, brings on fits of laughter;
Sister Loquacious switching the babies

So Damien’s hell-hound changed into a sweet little
doggie; both demon and angel lamenting imminent
Armageddon as heaven is too boring - its highlight
the Sound of Music* and hell’s excitements too
painful - both trying to save the world

Since human beings are the source of real grace and
real heart-stopping evil*, both demons and angels are
needed – the secret is, they only exist inside the
human mind, once humanity is destroyed, they
also lose their existence


Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman,
Corgi Books, 2006
* Quoted from p. 93

Damien –The Omen – An ominous film

The Sound of Music – A film about the life of Maria
von Trapp, changed her story too much, read the book,
though the film is good fun, don’t watch it over and over
too much syrup makes people go funny in the end

Passion

My magnificent obsession used to be writing, playing
with words still is my passion, yet I have landed a job
where mutilation of language and dreams is the main
thing going on; mixing rules and regulations with the
enunciations of people who cannot care less for the
beauty of sound

Who hate poetry with a vengeance, who destroy rhythm
wilfully, refusing to consider alliteration and assonance,
my heart is broken, I live my life in my mind, my citadel
keeping the magic, power, wonder and sound of sing-
song words alive - but sometimes the cold consensus
of inter-subjectivity

Penetrates the protective armour I have created and
leaves me writhing on the ground, shocked by modern
civilization’s attitude to the sacred in harmony, making
a fetish of appearance, reducing all dimensions to the
visual without reference to the divine mystery of
symbol and meaning

Unconscious Blackmail

Safely enclosed within the inevitable unfolding
of a sequence of primal moments locked within
triggered by unknown events, I become a victim
to the blackmail of the unconscious

When my world shrinks to a series of routine events
not taking care of anyone needing special guidance,
I fall prey to feelings of redundancy, my mind starts
wandering, heart stops beating normally

All that is left is an empty shell, breathing, converting
energy without accomplishing anything, can’t motivate
myself to play Snakes and Ladders in the office earning
money to continue in the same way

Day after dreary day, sending prayer requests to patrons
of hopelessness and things almost despaired of, seeking
succour in tribulation and desolation, the suffering of
my inability to stay on the treadmill

Without falling into a mental Black Hole where Calvinism
demands I live to serve someone, anyone; as long as I do
not live for myself; bloody hell, there is no-one else, every
one I associate with is independent

This leaves only parasites, should I become host to blood-
suckers as the true antidote to seeking quiet contentment,
what can end this search for meaning; surely there must
be something I may do for myself…

[Primal Scream Moments (2]

Primal Scream Moments

No amount of grand long-term goals
or serious to frivolous motivation can
save me when the ground falls away
and I grow imbalanced, I glare at the
world without lovable McGonagall’s
love-beaming eyes and trust it is the
glint of steel that makes my eyes shine
at a time like this

I believe advantage can be extracted from
anything, but I hate it all the same, going
through black holes where the ghosts of
sad feelings and distraught emotion are
waiting to invade my soul and take me
back to Arthur Janov’s primal scream
moments, I refuse to apply his remedy
or try dissolving Ron Hubbard’s locks

The negative outcry of their critics have
convinced me it is using dynamite to blow
up small wrinkles in the fabric of time, I
prefer applying Seth’s recommendation
to look at framework two and see life in
a different perspective using the present
to influence and change both future
and past...

Beautiful

[Part 3 of Energising and Inspiring]

Found perfect silver sandals for Nici, heels
not too high, shine just right, I am delighted,
she is enchanted, showed them to all her
friends, perfect for the soft purple dress
she is going to wear

Decorated my new wire basket with white
lace and a few roses, set it next to my bed
with my books and paper doll inside, for the
first time I have made something beautiful
that is practical too

I wandered about with starry eyes, imagined
millions of wire baskets everywhere decorated
by me, filled with books and trinkets, all things
nice, the toys I keep out of sight as I have no
container pretty enough

To showcase them, when you complimented my
attempt at handicraft I felt validated, appreciated,
measured for worth and not found wanting at all -
this is brilliant, I cannot wait to try this again, buy
chiffon roses and shiny fabrics

And decorate everything in sight…

Energising, Inspiring & Kaspersky

Part 1: Energising, Inspiring

Oh, give me a chocolate, give me what I crave,
excitement and adventure, an inspiring challenge,
not sitting quietly at my desk looking at criminal
messages at Interpol’s behest

Oh, give me the freedom of sea and wind and sun
up high creating fairy wings in front of my eyes, let
me not languish here, let me not expire in my chair,
let me run outside, be taken down

In a dramatic fight, a heroic deed, some bravery that
would make me feel it was a worthwhile life in spite
of everything and everyone that tried to bring us
down when we were young

************************************

Back after enjoying the wind outside, invigorating,
energising, inspiring, two chocolates, a wire basket
for my own version of interior decoration, a dainty
coffee cup, tried on shiny silver sandals

Trying to help Nici find the right heels and kind for
the matric farewell, something delightful, now to
embark on my quest for translation excellence...

[Early morning musing]


Part 2: Kaspersky

A Kaspersky moment at work,
while trying to read BBC Afrique
Le QG de Kadhafi est tombé - my
computer freezes, when I switch on
again Kapersky is hunting a Trojan
virus, virtual games in my work time

I laugh happily, an excuse to talk to
all my colleagues, join in the general
happy grumbling because of things
going wrong, so glad to be here to
experience it all, see Kadhafi and
Kaspersky working in tandem to
make my little life interesting

Back to vehicle theft in Cote d’Ivoire
as the CIA World Factbook insists to
call the erstwhile Ivory Coast

Oh wunderbar, listening to Vilja
while sitting here in Paradise…

Dreams

Oh, to fly high on a breeze
catching your eye, my focus
gone, my soul in a song

I waft in a dream, dance with the
wind, twirl within Boccherini’s
Minuet, laugh with delight

Light-hearted words whispered
just below hearing, making up a
story, living on the edge

Joyously alive…


Jane Austen and Terry Pratchett
will have them blushing, so will I

While Mr Darcy’s hauteur keeps his
face immobile, Elizabeth looks away

The moment frozen to be replayed
whenever needed to reenergise

I can refresh my memory any time,
sow the seed of dreams again…

Ad Hoc(ery) Fall Afoul

A Tale of Pseudo-Officialese in Three Parts

PART 1. KRA Pa - DD/FLEA

[I am totally submissive when it comes to internal admin
totally resigned to turning the mind into cheese curd]

Let’s meet to discuss the fourth
KRA on our Pas, use of ‘ad hoc’
banned, alternatives ‘additional
or special tasks’ no-no’s also

Move banned ad hoc KRA or choose
new KRA ‘Acting but not acting, Fooling
around, Socialising and losing bets’
since use of the terms

‘Ad hoc, special, additional and tasks’ are
outlawed - we should email our proposal
to DD/FLEA (cc D/TE) then awaaaiiiiiit
their approval

Let’s decide on KRA 4 and adapt our
PDPs accordingly - oh joy, use of
acronyms are becoming even
more wonderful…

[Sorry, I don’t know what these acronyms
stand for, though I shall find out eventually]

****************************************

PART 2. Thank you to my Foreign Correspondent
for supplying the meaning of all these acronyms,
it is fantastic, I am sure Terry Pratchett could not
have said it any better...

Foreign Correspondent:

‘Ad hoc’ (ery) is typical public servant speak meaning
whatever springs to mind on the spur of the moment
without being subliminally connected permanently to
or definitional of anything said, alluded to or intended
to express one’s words as an opinion

Without undue concern or need for complimentary group
consensus that said opinion will be taken as indicatively
gospel or potentially suppressed as the result of tacit
pseudo-officialese cautions exercised covertly or
retributively or expectations of a

Well-founded fear it will fall afoul of future hierarchical
displeasure regardless anyway...

DD/FLEA could mean Deputy Director Foreign Littorals
and Extra-terrestrial Administration

************************************

PART 3. Thank you Note

I am enthralled by your brilliant definitions, the
description of DD/FLEA has me flummoxed,
enchanted and totally overcome – delighted!
Extra-terrestrial Administration
YES, I LOVE it!

Now I have a terrible headache and nausea
realizing that today’s beauty is to be spoilt
with discussion of all these aspects of our
KRA’s and PA’s and DDTEE being absent
without official authorization and us carrying
the torch of civilization in the dark night of
superhuman administration – it is too much,
I have to lie down, my nerves are shot, my
heart broken by so many wonderful things…

Bitter Brilliance

Feels like a legion ants crawling
under my skin - every thought
triggers a feeling which causes
a mini-explosion in my body -
sharp aches in my wrists

Lime cordial - that is the thing
never drink it again, whatever
I ate and drank tonight shall be
taboo, these symptoms are
terrible, being eaten alive

The bed an uneven rock and
my back so sore, bitter brilliance
of an allergy attack, skin shrinking
while my mind is blocked - cannot
find a pleasing thought, though

I have magnificent and light-hearted
obsessions enough to motivate me
all the time - I cannot access these
while the allergy holds sway
- no sympathy sought

I have succeeded to make a mess
all by myself therefore I must extricate
myself, using the values and principles
I have found – yet it feels as if I am
buried, arms bound

In a concrete cage, far from the knowledge
and help of human companions...

Life Without Melody

Magnificent obsession or not, when I lose
interest I am bored without a light-hearted
fixation on a fun-filled object, when in need
of adrenaline and excitement, when sitting
still becomes impossible yet I do not have
energy for active displacement, motivation
is lost, cannot focus on a boring document
required by Interpol to find a stolen vehicle

I sigh, I need to control my diet and life if I
want to indulge in magnificent obsessions,
I always prefer fantasy dreams to fantastic
thinking with principles, strict programs and
goals, after eating breakfast and sending my
intolerant body into chemical orbit, I cannot
continue to concentrate on nothingness, on
frivolous activity that will be obsolete after

one or two readings, the client will only use
my masterpiece to classify the number of
cars stolen on a certain day, I play snakes
and ladders to earn my salary, throw the dice,
I feel well, eat something, to be swallowed by
the snake, I sink down five rows to carry on
with nothing to show for sitting on this hard
chair, nothing done to benefit mankind, no

support given to anyone except helping my
colleagues to move papers around, change
terms from red to blue, without song or
beauty or accomplishment, life without
melody…

Magnificent Obsession (Revised)

Chapter Twelve – aspire to some magnificent obsession
greater than yourself – be determined, commit to
big dreams and ideals

sideline the mundane for a grand target effective in
its overall permanence, no trifling, petty frivolities or
meaningless chatter, only a good sense of humour

obsolete or redundant tomorrows lack worthwhileness* ,
will not leave marks or footholds for others to build upon
we must set new discovery benchmarks for others

in science, the Arts, industry, stepping stone challenges for
future generations, like Mozart, Anna Pavlova, Sister Theresa,
Anne Franck, Helen Keller, Jane Austen, Newton and Einstein –

created permanence in their fields, a magnificent obsession
with global impact benefiting people in believable and practical
form, giving power and drive to create and pursue lifes goals

using strong principles: do unto others, respect self and all
others, forgive unconditionally as protection against
arrogance and corrupting influences of power

magnificent obsessions keep us strong in hopelessness,
focused with spirits raised when crushed and directionless,
motivated to realize our dreams…


Based on chapter 12 in “How To Be Motivated All The Time”
by Peter J Daniels - 1987 House of Tabor
pp 101, 102, 103* worthwhileness, 104


[ORIGINAL]

Chapter twelve – aspire to something greater than
yourself - in magnificent obsession, in determined
commitment to big dreams and ideals

No trifling, petty frivolities and meaningless chatter,
only a good sense of humour, sideline the mundane
in the overall goal of the grand target

Effective in its permanence, the obsolete or redundant
tomorrow lacks worthwhileness* , cannot leave marks or
footholds for others to build upon

We can set new discovery benchmarks in music, science,
industry, mathematics, education, medicine, politics,
religion, challenges as stepping stones

For future generations, like Mozart, Anna Pavlova, Sister
Theresa, Anne Franck, Helen Keller, Jane Austen, Newton
and Einstein – creating permanence in their fields

A magnificent obsession with global impact which benefits
people in believable and practical form, gives you power
and drive to create and pursue a life goal

Use strong principles: do unto others, respect yourself and
everyone else, forgive unconditionally, as protection against
arrogance and the corrupting influence of power

Magnificent obsessions keep us going in disappointment and
hopeless discouragement, keep us strong and lift us up, give
us clarity and direction

When we feel crushed and confused – and give us the
motivation we need to realize our dreams…


Based on chapter 12 in “How To Be Motivated All The Time”
by Peter J Daniels - 1987 House of Tabor
pp 101, 102, 103* worthwhileness, 104

Life-Giving Spark (Revised)

Creating meaning for ourselves is a sublime
experience, the young are instructed to believe
life is meaningful, yet cannot feel it that way,
we only learn through experience

If we don’t learn to create meaning we will
suffer senseless phenomena instead of life;
some exult in depressive sensationalism as
it is more exciting than unfounded optimism

Most prefer the pain of rebellion to resignation, yet
as long as we create our own meaning, those who
indulge in the macabre by seeking suffering in
depressing intrigues, cannot touch us

Since life seems meaningless a quest is needed
to make sense of existence; I learnt meaning was
not hanging around just waiting to be found but
existed only in feelings

Mixing life’s ingredients like ancient alchemists
produces results, adding our own passion as the
life-giving spark, attaching ideals to beautiful scenes;
I honour these visions in my dreams

Pay homage to origins by cherishing favourite
stories and authors, find new perspectives and
unexpected aspects in the same, well-known
material whenever I look again…

Dreams Realized

Meditation means stopping
the mind-stream, sitting in
utter peace; to me it means
Wizards of Waverley Place

Watching the TV series means
sitting with my lips curved in a
smile all the time, imagination
set free, no fears, no worries

Nothing serious interferes, as
Eastern gurus say, mediation
spreads spiritual ideals – by
watching a wavering flame

a flower or clouds - Though it
never works for me; watching
a magic show does - my mind
freed from negative ideas

Delighted while watching a fairy-
tale unfold, inducing a view of a
beautiful scene in which dreams
are realized…

Joyous Beginnings

Carine set off like a comet as soon as doctor Kilian
gave the go-ahead, there is no Nico to catch her on
her wild flight, at least she has reams of good friends,
she was great, tried so hard to contain her shock,
frustration and pain on discovering her loss

Of Nico and her injuries sustained; she was so loving,
warm and kind, even when I failed to take good care of
her, she sided with me in angry debates - she is gone -
I played her radio, rearranged her books, gift bags and
flowers, spent hours in her room

She went away facing a future of left-leg rehabilitation and
therapy, we cannot be part of the new phase in her life and
it feels so sad to let her go, testing her broken wings to fly on
her own, back to the life that was cut short in the accident, this
time without the safety net

Which Nico offered before, though I tremble for her, there is
no way to take over her life, no-one can lead another’s life
for them – how I wish I could lead her into joyous beginnings…

Wonderful Rush

What is delight; a whole lot of small things
all going right, Nici to wear a Mafia suit for
the school forty-days theme, found perfect
tattoos, called Annelise, can you help, we
have no suit for Nici; Annelise brought a
velvet ensemble she wore in her youth

In time to greet Carine, see her progressing,
I experienced the wonderful rush I knew so
well when I was at school, Tiaan called us to
watch Karate Kid with Jackie Chan leading,
Justin and Nathan passed by, every moment
tonight a mosaic of perfect delight

[Annelise Koch, known as Annelise Kallmeyer when
we were at school, rushed over with a perfect suit
when I asked her help to find Nici a Mafia suit to
celebrate Forty Days]

Fugue

When feeling ill, when no cure seems to kill the
discomfort, I need people to be angry at or share
jokes with, laughter always improves everything
but in despair I remain in my seat - seeking
translations of lease agreements

The deeper meaning, beauty and significance of life
retreat in a fugue of dissolving awareness, the world
comes to a stop, I wonder whether it would be worth-
while to conjure characters to enact a play
in an alternative reality

In which the wild gyrations of my mind can start
to wind down until it comes to a standstill...


Fugue: Pathological state of consciousness

[Caused by eating food I am allergic too, hereby I
confess that eating a chicken mayonnaise sandwich
is tantamount to mental suicide, it feels like my brain
is contracting while my ears are swelling with shrill
bells ringing and my thoughts are running away
like a lot of mad Mohicans]

Shrinking From Being

Listening to Dance of the Blessed
Spirits by Gluck - perfect nostalgia,
simply crying along with the theme as
the violins repeat the same melody
an octave higher, pain intensifying

The thread of self-control wearing thin
until it snaps and the floodgates open,
undiluted sadness washing over me,
pure in utter misery - until the mind
curls back upon itself and shrinks

Keeps on shrinking from being...

Soft Awakening [For Gerhard Knight]

I love the rain and ice-cold wind of winter
proudly taking its place instead of bowing
to this upstart of a too early summer
threatening to derail
the soft awakening of a slow-moving spring

The cold is exhilarating with the wind intoxicating
I joyously sing within its glaciating embrace
lightning and dark clouds and hailstorms

I tread the softness
of soaked leaves under fragmented trees
enjoy the fresh, rain-cleansed smell of pavements
the sky in sophisticated grey
watch the merest hint of a rainbow turn into
an intense laser-light show
realising the beauty of the green planet earth

Natural wonders keep us alive even when we fail to
notice these marvels, keep us going when we feel
existentially challenged; the last surges of powerful
winter quicken the life force pulsing in my veins

Heart beating wildly as the sensation of winter's
icy touch awakens all my passions...

[Thank you Gerhard for indicating the change in phrases,
I appreciate your help so much!]

Dreams of Great Things (2)

Jumping straight into summer going from three
jerseys to swimsuit and shorts, I bought fairy
flip flops with diaphanous roses and sequins
too beautiful to wear, the sweet scent of
jasmine filling the air

The crocodile within me lay in the sun yesterday
luxuriating in the cool wind stroking and teasing
my skin, the inviting pool too cool for swimming
yet I dipped my head in the icy water while
my ankles froze

A layer of misty cloud wisps obscuring the sun
today, almost too late to go outside again, the
crocodile restless, inspired by dreams of great
things while all that is expected is cleaning the
kitchen; I wonder

Did Edith Holden, Edwardian author of the Country
Diary, ever wash dishes, feel angry, dream of new
things; she simply describes the weather and
wildlife and nature trips, not a word about
any other feeling

Wonderment and joy expressed in quotes,
descriptions and enchanting drawings, I
wish I could be like this...




Wearing sensible brown comfort sandals while
my flower flipflops are camouflaged among the
golden grass in a cut glass container, just now
Nici brought me a big plastic flask for purified
water from her room

I immediately saw the perfect fish tank imitation
to be used to create a fairy garden, cannot wait
to soak off the label and start playing, there must
be a way to fulfil a lifelong dream of making a
magical fairyland play-thing

I shall add miniature flowers, glitter, crinkle paper,
and butterflies to create the right ambiance for the
fairies living within…

I Am In Love

[Manifesto for Women Everywhere]

I’m glad it makes you feel tough and big
when you humiliate me, glad you think you
grow in stature when you turn upon me

Only sad thing is I’m not a worthy opponent
I sincerely believe that bullying me reflects
negatively, luckily my words have no value

My ideas are lacklustre and boring in your
exalted eyes, you have weighed me in the
balance of your opinion, found me wanting

I have learnt to happily desist from trying to
tell you anything, such sacrilege has been
destroyed totally - in spite of what you do

My core is sweet, filled with ideals, books and
dreams, I fill my cup at the fount of the best
thinkers and teachers I find, I live my life

In my mind, you win every argument by power
and force, aggression and noise; but you can-
not touch my soul, your unkind attitude

Cannot destroy my delight in kindness, my
belief in romance – I am in love with the
intelligent energy of awareness - Nothing

in this world of illusion can lessen the divinity
I see in unconditional acceptance…

Diets And Dinosaurs

A scientific article on evolution and ageing
vindicates theories about humans being of
palaeontologist hunter-gatherer decent, we
should have been raised on protein and meat
instead of wheat

As proved by multifarious allergies, I was right
in surmising the reptilian brain stem overrides
mammalian tendencies in its crocodilian glory,
our dinosaur cousins went extinct because of
allergy to grass and wheat

The unnatural agricultural products we eat lead
to death but protein diets let us live indefinitely
yet such a diet would make life so insufferably
boring, we would seek ways to end our lives,
the release from the desire

For delicious fare to satisfy our gourmandise,
if wheat and grass did not multiply, leading
dinosaurs into temptation, they would have
been with us still!



The end of ageing: Why life begins at 90
....10 August 2011 by Michael R. Rose
....Magazine issue 2824. Subscribe and save

Michael R. Rose is professor of evolutionary biology at the
University of California, Irvine. For more on this topic, consult
Does Aging Stop? by Laurence D. Mueller, Casandra L. Rauser
and Michael R. Rose (Oxford University Press).

IN 1939, British statisticians Major Greenwood and J. O. Irwin
published an article in the journal Human Biology containing an
unexpected discovery. Mortality figures for women aged 93 and
over were expected to indicate death rate rising with age - but
instead, between 93 and 100 years of age acceleration in death
rates came to a screeching stop. Little old ladies aged 99 were
no more likely to die than those aged 93. The authors were
dismayed because they assumed "decay must surely continue".

But if ageing stops very late in our lives, is there any way we
can make it stop earlier, when we are in better health? The
idea that ageing stops makes little intuitive sense. Ageing
seemed a physiological process of cumulative damage,
disrepair or disharmony. Evolutionary biologists studied
how natural selection allow cumulative damage to happen.
All that changed in 1992, when the labs of Jim Carey at
the University of California, Davis, and Jim Curtsinger
at the University of Minnesota published landmark
articles in the journal Science (vol 258, p 457 and p 461).
Carey and Curtsinger studied thousands of flies of the
same age in controlled conditions and recorded the death
of every fly until the whole group was dead.
They found the same thing as Greenwood and Irwin:
at first mortality rate increased exponentially, but after
a few weeks death rates stopped rising. Signs of life after
ageing were found in every laboratory experiment, flies,
nematode worms and beetles. There is a "third phase"
of life after adulthood characterised by stable mortality
rates. And that just didn't make sense. For me, an evolutionary
working on ageing for 15 years prior to 1992, confronting the
Carey and Curtsinger results was like a near-death experience.
My mind reeled. Then I had an idea; a hopeful speculation.
What if ageing was caused by declining forces of natural
selection? Once these forces bottomed out, the ageing process
would stop. A computer modeller, statistician and evolutionist
ran computer models of the ageing process incorporating this
new theory. In every case, ageing came to a stop. It seemed
evolutionary theory of unending ageing was wrong.

Could we predict the evolution of different stopping points for
ageing – yes - the last age at which a population reproduces
over many generations is key - if reproduction stops earlier, so
too does ageing. Stop reproduction later and ageing follows suit.
We tested this experimentally by comparing ageing patterns of
different fly populations in large experiments. Results were striking
as models predicted, populations with an earlier last age of reproduction
stopped ageing earlier and lived longer, and vice versa.
We still don't have a full explanation of the underlying genetics of
the cessation of ageing. Ageing is not a cumulative process of
progressive chemical damage, like rust, but a pattern of declining
function produced by evolution.

I propose it would great to stop ageing early rather than slow
its progression with greater effect on lifespan and healthspan.
If we stop human ageing in middle rather than old age, useful,
enjoyable life would extend indefinitely and decrepitude avoided.
There is a way by which it might be possible. Natural selection
declines with age, we are best adapted to our environment
when we are young and less so when old. Ageing is progressive
decline in adaptedness as we get older. And environmental
change adds to the declining health with age. RECENTLY HUMANS
MADE MAJOR ENVIRONMENTAL CHANGE, SWITCHING TO AGRICULTURE
AND A GRASS AND DAIRY PRODUCE DIET. THIS MAY BE THE REASON
WE MAKE THE SHIFT TO A POST-AGEING LIFE AT SUCH A LATE AGE.
We are well adapted to an agricultural diet at early ages, but less
so at later ages. This amplifies decline in adaptedness of ageing.
An agricultural way of life increased human fertility at later ages
and pushed back the last age at reproduction - fly experiments
show this leads to a later transition to the late-life plateau.

To improve the course of ageing and stop it earlier, we need
look at evolutionary history. The simplest is people whose
ancestors never lived under agricultural or industrial conditions.
People from Papua New Guinea, whose ancestors were exposed to
agricultural foods and lifestyles during the past century, are not
well-adapted to them. In the 2009 book FOOD AND WESTERN DISEASE,
Staffan Lindeberg of the University of Lund in Sweden documents
the health benefits by reverting to ANCESTRAL HUNTER-GATHERER
DIETS. Hunter-gatherer ancestry people stop ageing earlier by
switching to THEIR ANCESTRAL LIFESTYLE AND DIET.

We are best adapted to agriculture when young, under 30. At later
ages, there were too few generations of natural selection to adapt us
to that lifestyle and it is beneficial TO SWITCH TO THE DIET
AND ACTIVITY LEVELS OF HUNTER-GATHERERS. I AVOIDED ALL
GRASS-DERIVED FOODS - GRAINS, RICE, CORN AND SUGAR CANE,
AND MILK PRODUCTS, FOR TWO YEARS AND RESULTS ARE GOOD.
I DON’T THINK EVERYONE, AT EVERY AGE, SHOULD ADOPT
A STONE-AGE DIET, AS THE "PALEO" DOCTRINE ADVOCATE.
WE ARE ADAPTED TO WHEAT, RICE AND CORN WHEN YOUNG,
BUT NOT WHEN WE ARE OLDER. [Hence my 1st conclusion I
was born old – literally and figuratively. Dinosaurs
went extinct from an agricultural diet and since I am
a crocodile in brain and spirit, I continue to suffer
from these allergies.]

See gallery: "Secrets of the centenarians: Life begins at 100"
Michael R. Rose is professor of evolutionary biology at the
University of California, Irvine. For more on this topic, consult
Does Aging Stop? by Laurence D. Mueller, Casandra L. Rauser
and Michael R. Rose (Oxford University Press).

Soul Crushed Inside

Nici gave me her essay
to read, I fixed mistakes,
loved the theme, she had
five people check it, we all
made corrections

I said it was to prevent her
feeling humiliation - she said
she had already been humiliated
enough; I laughed - she does
not know what it feels like

To have your soul crushed –
inside…

Freezing White

Weaving down the street, narrowly missing stragglers
not dodging when I bear down on them with impatient
tread, dreaming about visiting Russia one day, feeling
the passion and warmth of a people so different from
us, whose inner life is important to survive the cold

While we live outside ourselves, without introspection
because the weather calls us forth all the time, great
weather even in winter, grumbling if cloud cover dare
cover the sun for too long; what is it like where the sun
does not shine; melancholic grey skies, freezing white

Forcing all to remain indoors, to develop reverence for
art and beauty, for classical ballet, where innocence
survived the cold calculation of consumerism, where
rebels tried to free a nation from religious political
oppression, bringing about terrible upheaval

I wonder about the things I have read while remembering
Ivan Rebroff’s deep, velvet rendition of my favourite
song, Langehovens Lullaby for Liefstetjie


http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2008/apr/18/obituaries.culture

Ivan Rebroff, epitome of a Russian singer, was born
Hans-Rolf Rippert in Berlin's Spandau district. His
engineer father came from Hessen, while his
mother, he said, was Russian.


Afrikaanse Wiegeliedjie, Lamtietie Damtietie by
C. J. Langenhoven (Emiel Hullebroeck)

Lam tie tie, dam tie tie, doe doe my liefstetjie,
moederhartrowertjie, dierbaarste diefstetjie

Sheer Delight

Movies liked by me only means I have peace
to sit alone instead of watching general TV,
with Fantasia for company I am free to put
up my feet and balance the laptop on my
knees as the wooden school desk is too
cold, and feast my eyes on things I love

Watching Walt Disney fairies covering flowers
with glittering crystals, autumn fairies turning
leaves to gold, skating winter sprites catching
rides upon spinning ice crystals while my eyes
keep wandering to the filigree of the gilded
winter grass I had sneaked into the house

Then I admired the Edwardian Lady decorations
on page 29, a poem by Wordsworth in which he
laments what man has made of man; wondering
whether he meant proliferating laws destroying
general freedom, making all into criminals
on the basis of our basic instincts

Wordsworth knew birds and flowers enjoyed the
air they breathed, knew pleasure to be the holy
plan of nature, realised man was exiled from
his inner being and the sheer delight
of mere existence


The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady, A facsimile
reproduction of a naturalist’s diary for 1906, printed by
Michael Joseph/Webb & Bower; 13th impression 1980
Page 29, Edith Holden copied by hand a poem by
W.Wordsworth, Lines Written In Early Spring

A Calligraphic Script

Bought the Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady
unfortunately called Edith Holden, like any self-
respecting Hollywood director I wish to give her
a more pleasing name like Ernestine, Elizabeth
or Eileen, her painted illustrations are exquisite

This little fairy diary is a testament to my lack of
discernment, if I had realised the importance of
elegance and classic good taste, I would have
bought something covered in velvet and leather,
high-quality paper rough-grained and textured

I would have written with a calligraphy pen, an
artwork in itself – this roller pen lacks character
and grace; at least I can try to change my hand-
writing, as for illustrations – there is no hope, I
cannot master watercolours or flowers or birds

But from this page I shall write in small letters,
hoping it makes a difference…ah yes, it does
and oh, the drawings in the Edwardian diary
are pure perfection, I wish I could hang on
long enough to some of my own creations

To grace them with a calligraphic script and
keep them near me in a fairy book
such as this….

[A Dairy note taken from my pink Fiary Diary]

Fixated

Fixated on wire containers adorned with sheer material
silky roses craftily made to resemble perfumed bouquets
went on a quest to create my own wire holder, since you
claimed it impossible to make me such a wire concoction
I started dreaming of hanging a square of wire and adorn
it to my heart’s content

You asked which part of the house I would deface with my
own decorations, I thought the corner next to my bed would
be perfect – to expedite my attempt at creating art I started
with breakfast in a restaurant, looked into a second-hand
bookshop to visualise classic collections of leather-bound
tomes with which I shall

Change my study into a replica of the Library at Unseen
University with chains to fasten the magical volumes down
then I came away with The Country Diary of an Edwardian
Lady, Edith Holden, handwritten quotes and comments with
exquisite illustrations, I wish I could make a diary resembling
this, though I cannot paint

Water-colours in the same way - you are saved, gone all plans
for interior decoration, replaced by the dream of creating beauty
through the sound of singing words dancing in patterns to new,
delightful rhythms, the way the visible world was created…

Gourmandise And Perdition

My old friends (hot fever and backache) have returned
after reading The Enchanted Horse and a few pages of
Pyramids I tried to sleep, in vain, bored with my thoughts.
This is why people enjoy horror movies: Anything is better
than boredom, being scared out of your mind or feeling
shock and disgust is better than rolling over and over!

It has been so long since I had to sleep on the floor; the
tiles are so cold… Looking back; I have lost today. The
foods I consumed – curry mince on Friday, cream caramel
on Sunday – messed up my system to such an extent pills
could not suppress the headache, I could not think or
accomplish anything all day.

In the end, when I asked for extension to eat lunch with my
colleagues and you got angry, I gave up, left the lunch
uneaten and went home with you to continue the day
under the bane of the headache.

Like a good little Calvinist I counted my many blessings: I did
not run out of fuel though the fuel gage said empty, I did not
hit you with a hammer, did not tell you what I thought of your
demeanour - everyone’s health is fine, the sun shone today,
nobody that I know of has ever died of boredom, I did not
throw burning oil all over you – however tempting
the prospect…

Sitting here, a million cicadas singing in my ears, headache
intensifying, unwilling to do anything, yet unable to continue
in this molasses of nothingness, I try to while away the time
by making new resolutions: Getting onto the straight and
narrow and staying there, not forking down the wide, happy
road of gourmandise and perdition, no more experimenting
with food; finding better books to read when I feel ill – the
books I have are not riveting enough…

Still Suffocating

French - a round language full of cornices
and curls, even the explosives ascend into
the air - o-sounds forming kisses on the
speaking lips, rhythm uneven, making
my peace with inability to start an
ordinary conversation

Listening to BBC Afrique, isolated within
oppressive inner silence as I cannot feign
interest, reading ‘Proving an automorphic
resonance field has a semi-infinite
number of irresolute prime ideals’
burst into tears - consciousness

Not open to humour this morning
the darkness of the night still
suppressing every attempt
to escape the pressure
in my head...

Quoted from p. 66 Pyramids Terry Pratchett,
Victor Gollancz, 1989

Melodic Themes

A beautiful stained glass cathedral lamp,
a white heart-motive decorated book stand,
silver wire containers covered in silk and
elegant roses, classic journals with velvet
and leather covers and textured pages -
inspiring dreams of unique first editions

Yet I came home with Fantasia, orchestral
sound producing beautiful pictures through
Chladni’s figures; material objects being
frozen manifestations of sound patterns -
ideas and dreams expressed in melodic
themes – creating the visible world

As a series of fossilised moments in an
eternal process of infinite becoming…

Fyntameryn (& Translation)

Woorde wat beelde optower
mooier as enige werklikheid,
die perdedief se hartstogtelike
fluistering:

Danster, my glanster; opgeskik,
strikversier - mooimeisieperd,
fyntrapper, so fyntameryn
as kan kom

Terg my tong met ‘n ritrympie,
‘n swartblesperd met flougrys
pens - magiese perdebeelde
opgetower

Vurige kopervos reun en ‘n
blinkvosperd, sweetvosbles,
bruinskimmel, boknekperd,
asblou hings

Die perdedief wat ‘n perd tem
met ongekende woordekuns,
gulsbek, gliplyf, hooghart,
graniethart

In soete verrukking lees ek van
geelpiete in manteljasse en ‘n
klapklappie se dun fluitnootjie,
klokkiesgras, blarelower

En ‘n fyngetakte bos; so
fyntameryn - as kan
kom!

Aanhalings uit “Die Perdedief” HJ Vermaas,
Tafelberg Uitgewers, 1974, pp.1 – 41

“Fyntameryn” As Fine as Can Be

Words conjuring images
more beautiful than reality
the horsethief passionately
whispering:

Dancer, all aglow with ribbons
and bows – a ladies’ horse,
high-stepping, as fine as
can be

Teasing with a tongue-twister,
a black dappled horse and
grey also – magical images
of horses

A fiery copper stallion, a dark
chestnut and bright bay horse,
a brown roan, ‘boknekperd’ and
grey sorrel

The horsethief taming a horse
with strange, bewitching terms,
slippery guttler, His Haughty
Highness

Enraptured I read about yellow
finches in shiny mantles and the
reedy note of the ‘klapklappie’,
lady’s heart grass

Green foliage and lacy twigs, as
fine as can be!

Based on quotes from “The Horsethief”
HJ Vermaas, Tafelberg Publishing,
1974, pp. 1-41

‘boknekperd’ – unknown kind of horse

An Insomniac Spell

Just read EB White Charlotte’s Web because
I cannot sleep - as a small child I was a victim
of circumstance, reading any material at hand,
luckily, there were encyclopaedias, Reader’s
Digests and detective stories at home

Though there was never enough; today I can
prepare for an insomniac spell by keeping my
favourite children’s books around - such
wonderful tales appeared since my youth,
I would miss everything new:

Nanny McFee and Susan Sto Helit for Mary
Poppins; intergalactic quantum travels; I
love these and limited offers by libraries,
Langenhoven’s Assembled Works, Hans
Christian Anderson’s Fairy Tales

I still have to save Keurboslaan tales from
oblivion – old editions are destroyed while
new shortened compilations are terribly
mutilated…

Flogged Cassock

Don’t know how to find a path
out of this moment into another
realm without reading a book or
conjuring a story; checking my
run-on agreement with its sine-
wave repetitions

Herewith Lessor agrees to lease to
Lessee, who agrees to lease from
Lessor said Premises which is
situated and shall be deemed...
Lessor entitled to do this
while interest accrue…

The greatest mathematician being
flogged by a man in a cassock*, a
towel on his head, I furtively saw
as I glanced at the book on my desk;
‘Enchanted Horse’ and ‘Charlotte’s
Web’ lined up for the weekend

Titbits to lighten life between chores
though not many left now that Carine’s
on the mend; if only time would flow
past this immobile moment…


*Flogged by a man in a cassock -
From “Pyramids”, Terry Pratchett

Ephemeral

Don’t want the story to end, stop reading
before the end, take the book back to the
library, I can keep the characters alive in
mid-stride while already submitting to the
charm of the greatest mathematician - the
ship of the desert, the camel enjoying his
lunch for dinner while the ephemeral world
of the Aegean Sea conjured in Andre P Brink’s
archaic Afrikaans remains a fixed mirage in my
heart, unwavering in the air to entice me to join
the fictitious scene and find a new ideal there…

Opera Or Ballet

Oh joyous delight, finally reached the end of
my lovely Agreement, it should be an opera
sung to the music of Carmina Burana; if a
ballet, danced to the courtiers’ march in
Romeo and Juliet, the climax amazing

The tenant should fund the bill for drafting and
signing the serious contract , the self-satisfied
landlord can inspect and evict as he likes, the
effacing tenant had better beware - I see two
men in Victorian clothing - fencing

About the nefarious terms, no favours shall
nullify the terms by which the landlord can
pocket the deposit, any wrong step made
by the tenant shall render beneficial
occupation impossible - Should the

tenant improve the premises, no advantage
shall accrue to him, should the place burn
down - it will be seen as a scheme and he
shall be held responsible, the end to be
perfect: The angry tenant

shall kill the overbearing landlord with one
blow, then enjoy exercising his right to
beneficial occupation indefinitely - at
least, in the opera or ballet…

A Sideline [2nd revision]

[2nd REVISION]

Though the river of time stopped
flowing for me I cannot leave the
water as yet - no flow or progress
possible sinking lower into depths
where coral is deep red the sun a
far-off blur and sea-creatures flee
these flaying legs

Discomforting calm weighs wet on
eardrums in an unheeded descent
leaving disconnected others forking
into parallel space - alone in a cable
bundling time into tarred blackness
bells declaring Atlantis’ last hours
ringing in my head

The great city sank beneath waves
hidden forever from earth life and
sunlight - an immobile island of mist-
shrouded legends told in a story
resembling life woven by small
minds folding and bending
infinite timelines together

While I am shunted out of existence
stranded on a sideline sharing no joys
of desire or accomplished fulfilment
keeping hope time-frozen inside me
a magical talisman to light my eyes
as I wait for the return of meaning
and sound…

[ORIGINAL]

Though the river of time stopped flowing for
me, I cannot get out of the water as yet,
no flow or movement possible, sinking
lower, deep into the depths where the
coral is red, the sun a far-off blur and
sea-creatures scamper away from
flaying legs

A watery stillness where pressure on
eardrums is uncomfortable, my descent
unheeded, others forking away into their
separate parallel universes, alone in this
cable bundling time into the blackness of
tar, bells ringing in my head, announcing
the last hours

Of Atlantis before that great city sank
beneath the waves hidden from sunlight
and earth life forever, an immobile island
shrouded in the mists of legend and myth;
life resembles a story woven by many small
minds folding and bending timelines together,
while I

Am stranded on a sideline, shunted out
of existence, not partaking of the delicious
joy of desire and accomplished fulfillment, so
I keep hope inside, frozen in time - a magical
talisman to light my eyes as I wait for the
return of time - meaning and sound…

Needles Clicking

Love the effects and products of crafts,
yet sewing attempts led to such uneven
knitting - seems I cannot conquer the
fine intricacies of needles clicking

I would love to make dreamy, cloudy
seascapes in craft projects, yet have
only strung transparent crystals to
resemble dewdrops on cobwebs

Making a mess causes such anxiety, so
unhappy until everything is clean again,
messy craft projects are reserved for
dream stories in which talented girls

Make dolls, knit amazing garments, singing
like Jenny Lindt, executing all magical feats
imaginable; dreamt up when incapacitated,
only thoughts completely free

Affected nerve endings make doing crafts
so difficult; only words dance and sing for
me, shimmering beauty in enchanting
melodies, always true and faithful

Sound, mesmerising, magical sound,
my best friend…

Crocheted

With only the dramatic art of Lease Agreements
to tether my mind, my thoughts flew away to the
mathematics of crafts – coral reefs are crocheted,
the atmosphere is knit and some even fold a stop
sign into a pair of pants - at the intersection of
math and handicraft

Confirming my suspicion that the fine art of knitting
cables in multicoloured, many-layered wool - can be
used to represent - Many Worlds Theory!


http://www.livescience.com/4968-math-tricks-knitting-crocheting.html

Quoted:

“Welcome to the intersection of math and handicraft.
Unexpectedly, handicraft in general, and yarn work in
particular, has started to help provide answers to
mathematical problems. From the way the atmosphere
generates weather to the shape of the human brain, knit
and crocheted models have provided new insight into
the geometry of the natural world.

"Crochet, knitting and other crafts allow people to
visualize, recontextualize and develop new problems
and answers," said Carolyn Yackel, a mathematician
at Mercer University in Georgia”.

[Picture above: Taimina 1997 crocheting hyperbolic
plane.
http://www.cabinetmagazine.org/issues/16/crocheting.php]

Delicate Intricacies (Rev.)

Privileged to study delicate intricacies in
sweet-flowing terms of Lease Agreements
dramatic antiques declaiming innocence
between Lessor and Lessee

impressive controversies in who pays for
what, when and why, bewitching legalese,
magnificent sentences enshrining an
inexorable right

of Lessor to inquire of the Municipality
whether a Lessee recalcitrant is keeping
up payments, charming enquiries to ensure
accoutrement damages do not occur

can my poetic soul convey these delicacies
to the unaware ignorant of joyous rental
contracts; the enchanting discovery of
mysteriously beguiling legal jargon?

Beautiful Cables (2)

Admiring the cables in the jersey Alta knit, asked
her - May I photograph it? – she brought me the
pattern – Now you can knit one yourself - mistaking
cable enthusiasm for craftwork interest - and I
smiled, not on your life

The beautiful cables just illustrate Many Worlds
Theory, every time we make a decision – coffee,
not tea, to the shops, not the sea - the universe
is said to split; yet I think it simply forms a bulky
cable at that point, then

Alternative lines come together in one direction -
maybe just like the Virgo supercluster movement
in which the Milky Way Galaxy travels - towards
the Great Attractor, like the Seven Samurai said,
small deviations in variables

Only create more cables in beautiful patterns, the
overall movement is steady; as we sway, the sun
spirals around the Milky Way, up and down like a
merry-go-round horse, all parallel universes
moving together - forming

Lovely cable patterns along the way, a delight
only seen by the gods…

Smouldering, Mysterious Type

Told my friend an anecdote* that made
us roll over in laughter, the troll rumbled
at the young man - It’s not right when a
lad is alone in a lady’s ‘boodwa’ - the lad
replied - It’s quite all right, I’m not alone,
she’s here with me’ -

My friend remarked she would not have
liked to have a chaperone all the time – I
thought about this – You and I would not
have noticed a chaperone; she would have
taken us into adventure and danger out of
pity for our boring lives

Since we are both the eternal wallflower
kind - we laughed even harder - what we
would give to become the smouldering,
mysterious type instead of being our-
selves, always worried about things
- to the point of suffocating -

My friend cannot forgive herself for saying
‘Heil Hitler’ to a Jewish lady teaching Spanish
dance when *she seemed to salute her; I still
feel a pain in my heart when I remember my
small daughter cried when I broke her magic
wand by accident

anecdote* = from “Moving Pictures, Terry Pratchett
‘Boodwa’ – boudoir
*she seemed to salute her = The lady made
Spanish dance movements that translated to
a Heil Hitler salute in Alet’s mind, all confused

[For my friend Alet Oelofse]