Nest In My Bed

Enough books to create
ambiance in my room -
build a nest in my bed,
anxiety requires travel
between quotes I love

Can’t spend three days in
spearmint only, need some
chocolate, meat & veggies
also, books in all flavours,
teddies and my paper-doll

Vivid Verse, Soul Music by
Pratchett, Agatha Christie -
tie down my mind at night &
for the trip by bus, a juvenile
Horror High – Killer Instinct

To combat all fear - Feet of
Clay - should speeches be
too menacing, words can
change mental states –
I feel secure

In preternatural spheres, no
emotional upset – books are
survival, nourishment and
divine help all in one



BACKGROUND:

I took enough books to create ambiance in my room and
build a nest on my bed in which to try and sleep -

Previously I took only 4 books on such a trip and grew bored
with the limited reading matter at my disposal – when anxious,
I like to browse through my books, looking at favourite passages,
a little here, a little there…

As I explained to my colleagues, I cannot spend three days
from home in spearmint only – I need some chocolate, meat
and vegetables also – meaning various flavours of books.

I packed two teddies and my paperdoll, Vivid Verse, Pratchett’s
Soul Music, Agatha Christie – to tie down my mind at night, and
a book to read on the bus, a juvenile adventure: “Horror High –
Killer Instinct” – to overshadow all fears; still wonder whether to
take Pratchett’s “Feet of Clay” should the meetings be very dull –
left “Don Camillo” by Guareschi at home.

All these flavours and horrors are needed to combat anxiety - a
psychological need to feel secure. Words, evoking mental states,
combat all emotional upset – books are survival, nourishment,
survival kit and divine help all in one – the teddies
are just a bonus.

Convinced I Do Exist

Electronic filing of documents - warmth of
accomplishment, realisation that administration
was placed on earth to make us feel very happy
with very little, lectures on Human Resource
Development a creative way to waste time

How lucky to be kept busy this way, ensconced
in an office, stirring up problems, flabbergasted
by the likes of Madame Pompadour choosing
backache as new excuse for staying at home,
I prefer being here

Happy to be temporarily convinced I do exist, even
if the flow of time obliterates all memory of what it
feels like to be me, fascinated by the Wonderland
of a Government Ministry where buses are sent
to take us on outings

Corporate Boot Camp – shooting each other - and
Lawn Games – croquet anyone – are envisaged,
I can’t wait to be amazed, to be thrilled by the
clever wiles and delights of the Corporate
World waiting to ensnare the souls

Of the damned – that’s us, innocent officials sent
on an outing to breathe fresh air and practice
skills of public speaking, must pack my bags
as soon as I get home



First picture: Bootcamp - Himalajas Tibet
Second picture: Lawn games - Croquet

Cheshire Cat Smile

Then Security came and exclaimed:
these cupboards on top is security
breach, cameras on the ceiling can-
not follow your movement behind
these partitions, they must come
down tout suite

A Cheshire Cat smile growing wide,
to top it all, the weight is too much
for the building, bureaucracy came
to my aid, everyone in the Ministry
has to conform to the same rules,
such a delight

Regulating survival wonderfully, living
life on a list, every breath, every step
noted and accounted for, every move
carefully planned, every moment filled
to the brim with justification, auditing
our own corner

Of the universe, rules used to mean
lack of freedom but actually increase
liberty by offering so many alternative
ways to obey or break them, meaning
choices proliferating, the more laws
we make, the more laws

To oppose and play with – I love
the world we live in!

Bound To Survive

The biggest treat for me is buying toys without
feeling guilty, plastic bags, transparent purplish
hue, smaller blue - also see-through, a yellow
pencil bag completely opaque, ten colouring
pencils, twelve fibre-tip pens

I’m set to have fun during the Strategic Planning
Session at Stonehenge - custom-made stones,
also black porte-monnaie and black polka-dot
bag for formal occasions, big enough for a
book, now what books to take

Lyall Watson Supernature, my brother Ian tried
it at school, Cheops razor blade sharpening
Great Pyramid - it didn’t work; The Deeper
Meaning of Liff - Douglas Adams and The
Little World of Don Camillo

Giovanni Guareschi - Italian fun at communism
Sun Signs - Linda Goodman to calculate electro-
magnetic influence on life; Vivid Verse Anthology
of Poems; and for late-night reading - Agatha
Christie - Ordeal by Innocence

With these around I can read little bits at any
time, I’m bound to survive all anxiety attacks,
too much heat, buses breaking down, boring
speeches & social events; if there is light,
my eyes shall take my mind

Somewhere else, away from insomnia or drawn-
out barbecues or people from Human Resources
shouting themselves hoarse on ethics - while
condoning Mme Pompadour as Le Malade
Imaginaire, off sick again

With a bad back today, nobody can stand so
much hypocrisy without going insane…

Diary Notes 27 February 2012

My Favourite Translation

I read it over and over
trying to make sense of it
who can blame me when it
changes into a song playing
over and over as I feel my way
around repetitions seeking the
grain of sense in seemingly end-
less cascades which entangle my
feelings by the force of continuous
streams of legal terms…

----- ------ ------ ------- ----- ------- ------

“Exploiting a public official by abusing his position,
thereby obtain for himself or a third party
an unjust advantage

or cause prejudice to the administration or contravene
the regulations governing such transactions with a
view to realising the above-mentioned advantage
or loss

the accumulation by public official or equivalent
without the right thereto - for himself or another,
directly or indirectly - of donations or promises
of gifts & donations or some kind of advantage

whether to grant another an unfair advantage by acting
contrary to the laws and regulations ensuring freedom of
participation & equal opportunities on the general market

- and which had been designed by the public institutions,
agencies, public and local companies in which the state
or local corporations participate - directly or indirectly

through capital investment…”

An Invading Fungus

Listening to Mozart, looked up - felt shocked
to see black cupboards appearing everywhere
like black mushrooms blooming - an invading
fungus taking over the open-plan office and
destroying the ambience of our previously
rather handsome Kingsley palace

Apparently our Chief Director feels a need for
filing space, thus ordered these monstrosities
to overwhelm us with mustiness & dark sliding
doors, placed upon the cupboards already used
as partitions for privacy – when I see the black
ugliness threatening like burnt fields

I wonder about the nastiness in human hearts
that can inflict such sombreness on innocent
officials already slowing dying in the little work
space allocated to them, what could have pos-
sessed anyone to make cupboards black
like that?

Dying In Duty (Revised)

Wondered briefly once again why
feelings died – a translation on my
desk ready to be checked, endless
research of nonsensical terms for
uncaring readers remembered

Idiosyncratic marks earned from
invigilators freezes emotion that
energises me, living as remains of
passions teeming sparks, I smile –
little things always wake an ember

Nothing can keep my spirit down
forever, yoke of death is just veneer
enabling me to carry out constrictive
duties while my soul is high, clear &
free, in a separate life

High above the contamination of
routine life; upon death we return
to higher spheres, dying in duty
until that joyous moment when
we continue unto joyous infinity…


[ORIGINAL:]

Wake a Spark

Once again wondered briefly why
my feelings had died, returned to
the translation on my desk ready
to be checked and remembered
endless research of nonsensical
terms for uncaring readers while

Earning idiosyncratic marks from
invigilators, freezes the emotion
that lived within me, living life as
the remains of the teeming sparks
of passionate feeling, then I smile
- little things always wake a spark

From time to time, nothing can keep
my spirit down eternally, the yoke
of death is just veneer that enables
me to carry out constrictive duties
while my soul is high, clear & free
and carries on a separate life

High above the contamination of
routine life, upon death we return
to the higher spheres, dying within
duty until that joyous moment when
we continue unto lovely infinity…

Memory Lingers (Revised)

Compiled a ‘to do’ list in a whirlwind start,
security took my fingerprints for clearance,
I’m vindicated, my existence has meaning,
I’ve just proved I’m me with qualifications

Friends vouched acquaintanceship, name &
ID of every family member; were I suffering
amnesia I could so easily look myself up – it
makes me feel brilliant – only thing lacking

Is a pharmacy full-colour passport photo,
then I can identify my face too; ‘Diamonds
Are Forever’ James Bond could use my ID
and fingerprints to fool smugglers –

Really for a moment I am Jill St. John adding
‘Tiffany Case’ to my extensive repertoire; how
can everyone bend over their desks in cool
concentration when so many whimsical

Dreams await to be dramatized – let me write
down my fantasy freed restraint then continue
in cold boredom afterwards – secure while the
memory lingers in my heart…

Far From Home

You two, father and son - went to look for
cars at auction, came back having bought
curtains for our son’s bedroom, I was so
prejudiced - but you were right

Such great effect: grey, black and beige made
the yellow pelmet, remnant of a creative phase
when I spray-painted long ago; look beautiful,
his room has new appeal

Nici, my college daughter, doing research on
photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson whose
book ‘The Decisive Moment’ shows photos
taken on the run, the title sounds

Like a horror movie, Nici says, I offer ideas which
are firmly rejected by the young demoiselle, she
knows her own mind - my nuclear family makes
life worthwhile, everybody giving advice

For a trip to Stonehenge in the Free State, a
Strategic Planning Session, Nici choosing
teddies to take along, Tiaan suggesting
books to read - while hubby lectures

On food that will be safe; I cherish my new
book, looking for a favourite pillow which
might help me to sleep when
I’m alone, far from home…

Fairytale Meaning

Messed up a glorious day, shopping was
fun, qualifications certified, one step nearer
to required security clearance and here I
am, oblivious to all, imprisoned by allergy
symptoms due to faulty digestion, hunger
with melodramatic overreactions and dark
depression would be preferable

Feeling insensitive and dead, impervious to
every emotion, malaise and headache are
changing me into a grouch, years of practice
keeps my voice even and prevents me from
seeking solace in pills which offer no long-
term relief, their false promise of health
leads only to false expectations

Staring at the TV screen, reaction destroyed
ability to read, a takeaway with seasoning was
a killer, had no motivation to fight for chemical
balance in the face of general despair at over-
reaction to food, nothing makes enough dif-
ference to inspire me to try harder to over-
come this counterproductive situation

Even when I improve, allergy simply surfaces
again, only helpful imagery is Christian theory
of bearing a cross, wearing a crown of thorns,
without these ideas life seems ridiculous, any
fairytale assigning symbolic meaning to suf-
fering gives me enough power me to climb
the dangerously steep mountain of life

I do not seek elusive truth, only pragmatic
value - conferring strength to tackle my life…

Dimming Light Within

When the film hero sank into quicksand, he asked
his sister why she was growing taller - today my
world is moving away also as I am sinking into
mental quicksand

Communication lines crossed, hostile atmosphere,
can’t inject a comment into the conversation, steel
chains originating in my mind, everything seems
to be irrelevant

Glass fences cut me off from feeling; why do you
all go away, I cry; but the world remains the same,
it is me sinking down, falling away from reality
which becomes inaccessible

My weak eyes are dimming the light within, I can’t
turn around, must take small steps seeking the path
leading back to sweet interaction with human beings,
frustration makes me so angry

I can’t turn around fast enough, forced to stay in the
nether regions, feeling lonely, even my characters
end up sitting alone in their own corner of their
fictitious universe

When they meet I can’t hear them converse, the only
solution is to get into bed and sleep until my mind
frequency has changed, otherwise life is not
worthwhile...

Mental Fire Extinguisher

Tackling the mountain of today with my
usual bag of fears and anxiety, fighting
the dragon of encroaching meaningless-
ness in my head, fighting mirror images
everywhere, comforting myself with the
bitter truth, it doesn’t matter

Life’s dragging its feet without adventures,
listening to the inner voice exhorting me to
seek things intrinsically beautiful without a
need to justify existence, use of such con-
cepts will be crowned with success and
answers to my requests

In the best universe ever conceived, my
only problem is a continuing fight against
routine, the lack of challenge and a never-
ending search for a legal spark to ignite
feelings with which to colour these grey
freezing days lacking interest

My life is a lesson in the art of enduring
boredom with patience, of living without
the emotions which have been outlawed,
of remaining calm and unconcerned as
Rome burns, a mental fire extinguisher
has not been invented yet

24/02/2012

Life’s Vertices (Revised)

Life becomes senseless without dreams – the one
thing left, testing ideals by doing the opposite,
discovering alternatives that do not work, breaking
every rule to determine meaning

Pain for long-term gain is the only way to live happily;
humanity the sole religious authority whose embedded
ideals are fine as long as we’re not forced to follow
teachings – I dream about miracles, read how

Quantum physics explains all forms of spiritualism,
how consciousness creates physical phenomena
supposedly only perceived, how a wise mind can
present inherently beautiful ideas conceptually

Cynicism kills optimism by abstract abhorrence; life’s
value rides upon rays of insight colouring the world
with tinctures of feelings and emotions, created
intrigues, but won’t change inner traits

Musing as I climb life’s vertices, falling into ravines of
self-pity and failed self-esteem, trapped in the doldrums
of hum-drum routines eating my brain-circuits – only a
variety of constructed, carefully protected ideals
to keep me going….


[ORIGINAL:]

Heat of Feelings

One thing left: the ideal tested by doing the
opposite, discovering alternative does not
work, breaking every rule to determine
meaning - life becomes senseless
without dreams

Sacrifice for long-term gain the only way to live
happily, humanity is the only religious authority
I love the ideals embedded therein as long as
we are not forced to follow their teaching, I
dream about

Miracles, read how quantum physics explains all
forms of spiritualism, how consciousness creates
physical phenomena supposedly only perceived,
a wise mind presents inherently beautiful ideas
wonderfully

A cynic destroys idealism by employing abhorrent
concepts; life’s value depends upon light of insight
colouring the world with the heat of feelings while
emotions create intrigues but can’t change
inner traits

Musing as I climb life’s steep mountain, falling into
ravines of self-pity and fears of no self-esteem,
caught in the doldrums caused by never-ending
hum-drum routines which sabotage all my
brain-circuits

Only a variety of constructed, carefully protected
ideals to keep me going…

Altar of my Heart

If I never say how I feel does it mean
feeling goes away; no, feeling lives on
in my heart, shall be there until we part
then encapsulated in deep freeze until
all is revealed at the end of time

Physical reality does not have space for
this frequency, made my peace that the
world cannot allow this to be; I offered
unwavering support - helped where I
could hoping to leave a memory

Yet oddly content as all remained un-
aware of my existence as it should be,
no place in reality for the feelings pure
and sweet I treasure within, cherished
in deepest recess of inner sanctuary

Took up breastplate and sword to ward
off arrows of doubt about meaning of love
unrequited, looked at my beloved sun, re-
joiced in ability to admire, nobody knew
I walked this earth, this is perfect

Love unconditional the name of the game,
when trust enters the equation expectation
spoils devotion - bury feelings to be safe in
the sacred place where precious jewels
of love and wisdom are held

Framed by high ideals extracted from wild
ore that abounds, mounted on the high
altar of my heart, I do not require much
from those I love, quiet devotion quite
enough to keep joy alive…


[ORIGINAL:]

If I never say how I feel, does it mean
the feeling did go away; no, the feeling
is still alive in my heart, it shall be there
until we part then it shall live in my mind
encapsulated in deep freeze - until all is
revealed at the end of time

Physical reality does not have space for
this frequency, I have made my peace the
world did not want this to be, I tried to give
unwavering support by offering help where
I could, hoping against hope that one day it
would leave a memory

Yet oddly content as you remained unaware
of my existence; this is as it should be, there
is no place in reality for something as sweet
and pure as this feeling I treasure within me -
cherished in the deepest recess of my inner
sanctuary, never to be mentioned

I simply took up my breastplate and sword to
ward off the arrows of doubt about the meaning
of love unrequited – looked up at my beloved sun
and rejoiced in my ability to admire special people
without them ever knowing who has been walking
this earth – this is perfect

Unconditional love is the name of the game, when
trust enters the equation, expectation spoils neutral
devotion, happy as I bury my feelings to be safe in
a sacred place in my heart where precious jewels
of love and wisdom are kept, beautifully framed
by the high ideals carefully extracted

From the wild ore that abounds everywhere; depicted
in wonderful colours, mounted on the high altar of my
heart – I did not require anything from those I loved;
quiet devotion was quite enough to keep joy alive…

Many Illusions… (Revised)

A perfect evening feeding rainbow-coloured
beads to eyes ravenous for beauty, a favourite
movie, callous girl who cries on family loss –
her mom especially – fights to get them back,
along with her I too had fervent tears

Washing dishes after a fabulous meal to chansons
française – musique folklorique pour enfants:
Brave Marin and Mam’selle Angèle - long
thought lost - feeling passionate and oh
so very young again

Music still retains its charm after so many years
I see delightedly; I thought increasing age inured
me to the joys of youth, not true – small things
relished when young still fill my heart
with wonderment, especially

If I allow recall to go right back to those moments
of magic when I tried to create as many illusions
as possible…

Thrusting Lines

Praised for single-minded devotion to duty only,
my lines subjected to minute scrutiny as I lack
the tools to reproduce literally; rephrasing to
create fluent, mellifluous texts is wrong

We are employed to be a conduit faithfully re-
laying source texts through mindless copy-
ing which causes my brain to shut down
so my boss thinks me incompetent

Unable to deal with the soothing repetition most
people deem a real treat, I’m learning to accept
being the worst official in history, not given any
responsibility, only checked and monitored

Lost access to my inner being while ignoring
enchantment of words dancing in rhythmic
lines, I have to create a sacred space where
sound can be freed to reign supreme

Where the rhythm of lilting vowels formed into
notes with various beats by rushing, explosive
consonants, creates melodies rising and
falling in thrusting lines

Cosmopolitanism

We shall be taken to Paris – a reminder of
France - in the Free State, South Africa;
to a resort called Stonehenge – a reminder
of England - for a Planning Session

How cosmopolitan is this - oh, rejoice ye
gods one and all, blessed be the space to
be graced by the National Language Service
for the period 29 February to 2 March

To dream and create visions about a glorious
future for the language-crazed land of our
forbears – where I am often in tears being
the saddest Departmental House Elf

My burnt offerings are scorned and ignored –
I shall take photos, a teddy and my pillow to
enable me to sleep far from home; packets
of chocolates and sweets, books to read

A poetry anthology, a children’s story, a book
for grown-ups and a fourth to be deliberated
upon… oh, celestial morn…

I Want

I want the excitement and
adventure of creative en-
deavour, I want the same
feelings, not the same

dreams, my soul should
have been sold ages ago
for the highest passion
human beings can know

for adrenaline-laden chal-
lenge and new interest
taking me to new levels
of existence, I am in need

of a new consciousness –
the old awareness is all
worn-out, driven into a
rut of routine - I need

to formulate new ideals,
devise how to steal new
energy from the heart of
the gods, to embark

on a new course, change
tack to sail with the wind
instead of fighting the
undertow with my mind

Friday Night 18/02/2012

What to do on a Friday night - first let the men
watch what they want on TV, follow hubby about,
sometimes eating out, tonight I ate pizza which
keeps me awake, now watching TV all by myself

Whatever I want - tonight starlight photography
focusing on lions at night, the second topic real
life haunting - angry spirits - from there on to
competing against indigenous tribesmen

in Brazil’s Amazon, all competitors scarred &
tattooed, the visiting Europeans and African
upstarts also; now I have a choice between
‘I was Murdered’ and ‘Great White Sharks’

I chose the sharks - it is a given that humans
killing each other does not seem right - while
sharks jumping 15 feet into the air to catch
seals, are perfectly all right - then I found

Ice Road Truckers; though I love the challenge
of charging peak traffic on the road across the
Union Buildings; I fail to imagine myself behind
the steering wheel of these monsters...

18/02/2012

Notes In Slow Promenades

Naxos compilations strive to drive the
listener mad, first a wild Spring Vivaldi
which makes criss-cross patterns in my
mind while I’m going cross-eyed, angular
lines affecting mental frequency

Next a calm rowing boat faltering down a
sluggish stream, lulling me to sleep, leading
to an explosion of little soldier notes jumping
up and down like pistons in a car which
might take off any time

On to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata,
fingers caressing notes in slow promenades
down a path of pain and death, moonlight fades
until night becomes raw and cavernous
and devours my soul

Suddenly Vivaldi’s metred Baroque Spring
wipes the floating lines from my mind to whirl
in little circles, round and round to a mindless
rhythm without feeling or meaning, a sad
tribute to Louis Fifteenth

Followed by a violin’s cry in high-strung pain
while a harp picks out little steps of ghostly
spirits underneath; on to a clear flute an-
nouncing formal visits, footmen serving
little pastries to French courtiers

Then a cold shiver quietly depicts a moonlit
scene, a swan floating down a castle moat
while the wind sighs in the leaves of trees
standing at ease - a tempo change that
indicates black storm clouds above

After this rolling piano notes in ringing rounds
drive a coach into a ditch and bass notes
throw up dirt and mud as horses pull it
down a rustic country road, the next
song stops the coach: a sad face

With mournful eyes seeking his departed love
in an old country house, my heart contracts in
pain, but then a chase is announced, bugle
calls to hunters in jodhpurs and red coats to
converge on hunting grounds

Followed by a Spanish dance, castanets and
high-heeled shoes tapping out a melodrama
of proud, but mindless lives lost in animal-
rights contested fights – and to top it all,
threatening organ tones:

Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in B minor rings
out - Dracula appears and takes the seat
to play until his victims flee in fear…


Louis XV


EXPLANATION:
http://www.naxos.com/catalogue

BEST OF NAXOS 1


1. Naxos compilations strive to drive the
listener mad, first a wild Spring Vivaldi
which makes criss-cross patterns in my
mind while I’m going cross-eyed, angular
lines affecting mental frequency

1st stanza
Violin Concerto, in F minor Op. 8/4, RV 297 by
Vivaldi, Antonio 2. Allegro non molto


2. Next a calm rowing boat faltering down a
sluggish stream, lulling me to sleep, leading
to

2nd stanza first 2 lines
Largo in F major, instrumental arrangement
("Ombra mai fu" from the opera Serse) by Handel,
George Frederick

Violin Concerto No. 3 in G major, K. 216 by
Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus - Adagio

an explosion of little soldier notes jumping
up and down like pistons in a car which
might take off any time

2nd stanza Lines 3, 4 & 5
Orchestral Suite No. 2 in B minor, BWV 1067 by
Bach, Johann Sebastian Badinerie


3 On to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata,
fingers caressing notes in slow promenades
down a path of pain and death, moonlight fades
until night becomes cavernous and raw
and eats my soul


3rd stanza
Piano Sonata No. 14 in C sharp minor ("Moonlight"),
Op. 27/2 by Beethoven, Ludwig van Adagio sostenuto


4 Suddenly Vivaldi’s metred Baroque Spring
wipes the floating lines from my mind to whirl
in little circles, round and round to a mindless
rhythm without feeling or meaning, a sad
tribute to Louis Fifteenth


4th stanza
Concerto alla rustica, for strings & continuo in
G major, RV 151 by Vivaldi, Antonio 6. Presto

Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D major, BWV 1050
by Bach, Johann Sebastian 8. Allegro


5 Followed by a violin’s cry in high-strung pain
while a harp picks out little steps of ghostly
spirits underneath; on to a clear flute an-
nouncing formal visits, footmen serving
little pastries to French courtiers

5th stanza
Violin Concerto, for violin, strings & continuo in
F minor ("L'inverno," The Four Seasons; "Il cimento"
No. 4), Op. 8/4, RV 297 by Vivaldi, Antonio 9. Largo

Flute Concerto No. 2 in D major, K. 314 (K. 285d)
by Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus 10. Allegro


6 Then a cold shiver quietly depicts a moonlit
scene, a swan floating down a castle moat
while the wind sighs in the leaves of trees
standing at ease - a tempo change that
indicates black storm clouds above


6th stanza
The Swan Lake, ballet, Op. 20 by Tchaikovsky,
Pyotr Il'yich 11. Scene

7 After this rolling piano notes in ringing rounds
drive a coach into a ditch and bass notes
throw up dirt and mud as horses pulls it
down a rustic country road, the next
song stops the coach: a sad face

7th stanza
Piano Sonata No. 17 in D minor ("Tempest"),
Op. 31/2 by Beethoven, Ludwig van 12. Allegretto


8 With mournful eyes seeking his departed love
in an old country house, my heart contracts in
pain, but then a chase is announced, bugle
calls to hunters in jodhpurs and red coats to
converge on hunting grounds

8th stanza
Clarinet Concerto in A major, K. 622 by Mozart,
Wolfgang Amadeus 13. Adagio

Water Music Suites Nos 1-3 for orchestra, HWV
348-350 by Handel, George Frederick 14. Presto

9 Followed by a Spanish dance, castanets and
high-heeled shoes tapping out a melodrama
of proud, but mindless lives lost in animal-
rights contested fights – and to top it all,
threatening organ tones:


9th stanza
Carmen Suites for orchestra Nos. 1 & 2 (assembled
by Ernest Guirard) by Bizet, Georges 15. Selections


10 Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in B minor rings
out - Dracula appears and takes the seat
to play until his victims flee in fear…

10th stanza
Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in B minor

Nothingness (Revised)

Thought I’d allowed the world to grow infinitely
and eternally varied never to lose it again, but
evil goblin emerged and sent his shards of
broken mirror into my eyes and heart

The multiverse sucked into my brain’s black
hole, nothing left, not a ray of light, note or
musical beat, even alternative universes,
the trousers of time splitting off infinitely

Only the black hole remains; Michael Ende’s
Never-Ending Story replaces nothingness with
imagination - mine was destroyed by serving
ethical principle of veracity, no feelings left

Worse than that positivist materialist I was at
University or Dr Damasio’s patient, frontal lobe
brain damaged Phineas Gage; I can’t set
priorities in a world uniformly grey

Only follow those of other’s, march blindly, eyes
no longer turned inside, dark grows overpowering
sight simply stops, all vague, blind without the
former inner light, staring into nothingness…


[ORIGINAL:]

I thought I had allowed the world to grow so big
and infinite, so varied and eternal, I could never
lose it again, yet when the evil goblin came along
and send the shards of his broken mirror into my
eyes and heart, the whole multiverse tumbled with
me into the black hole in my brain and never a ray
of light, a note of music, a beat or anything escaped
again, the multiverse with its myriad alternatives and
parallel lines forming the trousers of time splitting off
infinitely, is gone; only the black hole is left

In the Never-ending story nothingness was replaced by
imagination; since my imagination is destroyed to serve
the ethical principle of textual veracity, no feeling is left
and I am worse off than the little positivist materialist I
was at university; even worse than Phineas Gage, Dr
Damasio's frontal brain lobe damaged patient, I can-
not set priorities in a world that looks uniformly grey;
only follow the priorities other people set and march
blindly, unseeingly, eyes no longer turned inside as
the dark grows overpowering, sight simply stopped

All is vague and grey, blind without inner light, staring
at the nothingness

16 February 2012

A Swollen Tortoise

We happily conversed while you experimented,
I promised myself I won’t take a bite as you added
beef stock to curry, when I refused you insisted, it
should be safe - now I’m awake, a small fire in my
intestines reminding me why my world is so small

Step over the line of eating restriction and pay the
price, I can’t sleep at all, listening to Tiaan’s restless
pacing indicates he shares my fate; can’t close my
eyes, can’t lie down, the floor does not offer any
respite - I’m convicted by my own choice to

eat things my system cannot process - I resemble
Ionesco’s rhinoceros, feeling like a swollen tortoise*,
I read multiple personalities react differently to stimuli
depending on which one occupies the body - I wish
I had another me, like the three faces of Eve - to

change my chemical set-up, the only effect change
has is varied feelings - from terribly depressed to
totally ecstatic - yet my body remains the same
oversensitive seismograph - making me wish
for separation of body and mind

As soon as possible…

16/02/2012

*or a beached whale – whichever comes first…

Laughing Leonine Warmth

So the games began: Marius, Aries, said if he
were wealthy, he’d never work for a boss - he
has problems with colleagues and hates being
cooped up with a computer; Nina, horse-loving
Capricorn, said colonisation brought infra-
structure to Africa

Our African colleague had apoplexy – Christine
our warm, loving Leo, dousing the flames: every
nation and continent have been coloniser AND
colonised in turns, she explained; in fact, Arabs
ruled Europe for centuries, Gaul suffered under
Roman occupation

Rima, honest, fiery Sagittarius; started a cam-
paign to hijack the class: told Christine politics
is the topic to be discussed - being such a scared
Cancerian I spoke up - Not figures, statistics and
politics again, died a thousand deaths last year -
lion-hearted* Christine

Said in royal comment: Language should be fun
stereotyping humour will be discussed, today
it’s cute reasons for working and colloquial
expression - Capricorn immediately took
umbrage, said coarse idioms should be
banned – Christine said

One student left class when she taught street
jargon - Paris and Marseilles - laughing with
leonine warmth; lighting up my day and I, a
tactful Cancer; saw light at the end of the
dark tunnel in which my imagination
seemed to be dying already...

* Lion-hearted = Coeur de Lion

My Own Estimation

You have actually succeeded in convincing me
I was making a fool of myself, everything I said
interpreted as negative - I give up, conform to
your opinion - I am too tired to fight - besides
why fight someone who shall do everything
that’s wanted -

Why expect understanding and friendship
when I get common sense, help buying
groceries, guidance in human relations,
everything required - if you feel that I‘m
stupid, I have to agree; but as it means
you are the biggest fool

For putting up with me while I feel that you
are worthy - it means I would not agree to
anything with someone I deem unworthy:
if you deem me unworthy, so be it, you
are welcome to put yourself down, I’d
never do such a thing myself

If you feel you were capable of choosing an
inferior partner while I feel superior in my
choice of you, I prefer my own estima-
tion to yours; you can rate me as low
as you please, I rate me as high
as can be - because I know

You are better than this…

Colouring My World

No need to change my mind - only need
to change my feelings, the light shining
from my eyes colouring my world; in
need of fun, to laugh loud and long

Used to joke about the seven dark nights
of the soul – now I’m living one terribly
long drawn-out night without laughter
in my eyes; where did it all go wrong

Can I win back the fantasies that used to
bolster me making my way through dead
monuments of dried-up documents, I am
bored unto death sitting here

Nothing creative in my day, no-one to share
my sense of the ridiculous, no-one to go out
and play; all oppressed by duty and routine-
please shine the light of fun

Upon me and everyone, this is a form of
spiritual death, physical death would be
so much better - to discover the realms
prophesied by spiritual masters

Never-Ending Stream Of Words

As per usual, I survive, standing behind
my computer as I cannot sit in my high-
back chair, impatient to turn back into
a crocodile at home, jumping into the
crocodile lagoon, change my mind’s
content – especially when

My little crocodile son starts mimicking
my visit to his granddad, Tiaan’s facial
expressions are a treat, reducing his
mum to peals of laughter as he goes
cross-eyed illustrating how dad
and I will pore over books

And how I will fall asleep as dad keeps
talking while I lose consciousness, when
I wake up, he would be talking still – this
time I shall take copious notes of the
never-ending stream of words, get
to know the ancient crocodile…

Monte Cristo Count

Oh, best adventure book for kids… ‘The
Count of Monte Cristo’, one student said,
youthful impressions of vengeance and sad
betrayal - his beloved married his arch-
enemy – not for me, I prefer

‘The Scarlet Pimpernel’, I said, the hero so
bold in action and secretive and his beloved
Marguerite so bewildered but faithful to him;
this is the best adventure book for kids, I do
not want to repeat the experience

Of betrayal again, since it is all fiction I can
choose which fantasy to take with me; the
men in class can have their Monte Cristo
Count while I shall stick to the bloodthirsty
Scarlet Pimpernel events when

Disguised as a hag, he saved aristocrats, in
the end, with Marguerite’s help also - from
the embrace of Madame la Guilottine; this
and Jules Verne - will do for me

Piccalilli (Revised)

Piccalilli – the pickle that zings with zest
and foretells my royal downfall, a roll
prepared with onion, cheese, egg n’
tomato, spiced liberally with piccalilli

One bite cost my common sense –
knowing full well white rolls make me
ill I ate with relish still; it tastes soooo
wonderful when one like me

Lives in a bland dish desert of safe
condiments in black pepper and coarse
salt – if I felt bad after Prego steaks, I
now adore a crazy piccalilli tang

An extravaganza returns to haunt me in
solitary confinement of official texts, head
throbbing, oh piccalilli, chopped veggies,
cheese and spice, enchanting, piquant

For the underprivileged palate…


[ORIGINAL:]

Piccalilli – the word just sings with zest
and zing - spells my downfall, when you
prepared a roll with golden onion, tomato
egg and cheese all spiced up with piccalilli

I took one bite and lost all common sense
knowing full well that white rolls make me
ill I went ahead and ate with relish, it tastes
wonderful to one like me who lives life

In a desert of bland dishes with black pepper
and coarse salt the only safe condiments - I
love Prego steaks, feel bad afterwards, now
adore the tangy taste of piccalilli

An extravaganza coming back to haunt me in
solitary confinement with official texts, head
throbbing - oh piccalilli, chopped vegetables
and spices enchanting and piquant

For the underprivileged palate…

Long-Left Wide Step

Failed to find meaning in my
immediate surrounds; 1-2-3,
a-1-2-3, I went down the street,
usual music not speaking to me

Thought of my dad, cowboy hat on
his head, playing his music - Chris
Blignaut singing the song of a hapless
baboon, a bully-beef can with ants

His wireless for greeting his tribe, no tax
to pay, he sings - the can’s too tight, his
face is stuck, the ants bite him, the baboon
goes mad - we stared with shiny eyes

As the chaos was described – and I sing
along with the song as I long-left wide
step 1-2-3- down the street, happy in
a cloud of memory – the beauty

Not intrinsic in the melody, but in the special
quality of nostalgic song – the soft golden light
enclosing times past…
....my Dad

Embroider Visions

My heart as light as a feather, already
planning on sharing domestic moments
while visiting my dad, yes, it has been
decided, the kids will go with me

Nici shall drive the Jeep, Tiaan navigate,
I shall sleep, four hundred kilometres to
see mom and dad - tuck mom in, stroll
with dad on the farm, enjoy his garden

Listen to his music and favourite stories,
admire the big trucks that inspire him so
much, also look at mum’s sewing, com-
miserate with aches and pains

Spending time together doing nothing
while the kids shall accompany my sis
on field trips, she loves entertaining –
what felicity, what bliss

I shall enjoy my dreams and embroider
visions till then!

Just Punishment

At least I have made myself into the
most unlovable person who has ever
been, some consolation indeed; I am
a scoundrel at work, taking up space
and oxygen, at home I’m too pre-
occupied to get anyone’s attention

Only when I became resigned that my
daughter would smash her car could I
relax while she charged all obstacles,
refusing to change gears even when
the car stalled; I cried in despair as
my son bicycled home in the dark

The only consolation I got was that he
promised not to do it again - I give up
tried in vain to attain spiritual growth;
I am the worst person I know - the
sooner I give up wrong ideals and
attempt being the worst delinquent

The world has ever seen, the sooner I
would be happy again, emitting such
a low vibration, it will take a million
lifetimes to take me to a higher
plane; every friend I have
dreamt of, every ideal

Destroyed by MYSELF spiritualists say,
claiming we create our own reality, my
feelings inform me I have created the
worst nightmare - losing family and
friends – according to twin sis, my
dad feels the same about life

I wish I could share my pain with him
but he is out of bounds; just my luck
that us two scoundrels may not meet
again, such just punishment…

Disgust - Undisguised

Confined in office and home is fine
as long as I can do things I like -
surfing the Internet

But when rejection and isolation is
my daily fare, when my offerings
are met with a cold glare

My resolve weakens and my mind
disintegrates under the assault of
frozen disgust - undisguised

Attempts to destroy my spirit make
it almost impossible to breathe, yet
somehow I am not dead yet

What keeps me alive in a world all
hostile which imprisons me in a
chair all day long

Where physical symptoms make
escape impossible while access
to my dad is unattainable?

I accept responsibility for all these,
believing in freedom, all brought
about by my choices

Though why I chose to be ill, stuck in
the quagmire of mental sluggishness,
is beyond explanation

Admitting guilt lessens the burden and
makes me determined to learn how to
love - unconditionally

Angel Conversations (Revised)

Ideals like shining stars beckoning, urging
me to evolve, to overcome limited concepts
binding all in manacles strangling the spirit
until we all turn into machines; feelings
lost in deep pools of lonely hollowness

Ideals fill my space with creativity – turn
my eyes inwards to contemplate vistas of
endless consciousness: mine is to feel love
unconditional, for concepts embodied by
another who needs nothing from me;
from whom I need nothing except

honoured awareness of their wonderful
being, a joy conferred by existence as
beacons of independent thought and
insight, finding comfort in reflection
that someone so admirable has
crossed my path to show me where

to look for beauty and wisdom – thank
you for showing me today; for being there
more masterful than a guru, being more
accessible than the sun I love so much,
more personal than an Angel holding
conversations on the Internet


[ORIGINAL:]

Ideals like shining ideas beckoning from afar,
calling on me to evolve, overcome limited
concepts that imprison all with manacles
that strangle the spirit until we turn into
machines; feelings lost in deep pools
of meaningless loneliness

Ideals fill my space with creative activity - turn
my eyes inside to contemplate endless vistas
of consciousness: my ideal is to feel love un-
conditional for concepts embodied by a
person who needs nothing from me;
from whom I need nothing

Except the privileged awareness of their won-
derful being, joy conferred by their existence
as beacons of independent thought and
insight, finding comfort in the thought
that someone so admirable have
crossed my path to show me

Where to look for beauty and wisdom – thank
you for showing me today; for being there
more masterful than a spiritual guru, more
accessible than the sun I love so much,
more personal than the angel holding
conversations on the Internet


Based on words found at http://www.afterlife101.com

“Interview with an Angel” by Stevan J. Thayer and Linda
Sue Nathanson

“Love is NOT needy or demanding, love rises from
a depth within and love is felt whether you are with
someone or solitary. Real love is not the same as
romance: real love is felt as total, non-judgmental
acceptance. It is a love that continues to expand
to encompass ALL things and people."

“We can move from the confinements of human love
with its expectations, blame, judgments and finding
fault with those we profess to love - towards an
accepting, unconditional love of all.”

Diary Notes – Kids

Oh, what an investment we have made with
such wonderful kids, Tiaan a handsome young
man, everyone says, Nici such a hell-driver,
starting college tomorrow, still the same
size she was at thirteen, size the source
of her driving aggression(?)

How great teaching them Badminton, played
with Tiaan tonight, his antics reduced me to
helpless laughter; Nici invited me to watch
‘Howl’s Moving Castle’ based on the novel
by Dianna Wynne Jones; though she has
many a beau, Nici’s heart untouched

She still dreams of magicians like Howl, she
says; Tiaan’s girlfriend from Hobbit-land,
angelic Angela, her mom also wears swim
suits like me, Angela got Tiaan to cover
his books beautifully; Tiaan preparing
a speech on integrity

Nici starts a course in photography, we still
laugh about her refusing to work in class
when she was small, claiming her mom
told her not to as I said imagination is
more important than learning, she
believes this like Gospel

Her high marks in creativity got her accepted
for the prestigious course, maybe I did some-
thing right - both kids are lovely; a high IQ
score in emotional development, they
cleverly control both their father
and me…

Memory Will Endure (Revised)

‘Cent Mille Chansons’ stirs memory, beautiful
voice, melody of such bitter-sweet nostalgia, a
whispering spirit crying in the cupboard: no drag
worm relates stories of new knights and dragons

Just dream sustained characters who take their
bows, spirits bolstered by lyrics of this song, there
always will be a hundred thousand loves – and
castles and stars to remain untouched by us

One hundred thousand horizons of love, we shall
add new another romance as we join a hundred
thousand lovers in the blue sphere of earth; the
world will never need to know –

but memory endures a hundred thousand years
in my sensitive soul


[ORIGINAL:]

Listening to Cent Mille Chansons stirred a memory:
a beautiful voice, a melody conveying such bitter-
sweet nostalgia - the Whispering Spirit in the cup-
board crying: there is no dragworm to tell me a
new story of knights and dragons

Just dreams sustain as my characters take their bows,
the spirit bolstered by the lyrics of this song, there
always will be a hundred thousand loves; castles
and stars will remain untouched by us in this
ocean of love, there will always be

A hundred thousand horizons, we shall add another
romance as we join a hundred thousand lovers in
the blue sphere of the earth; the world will never
know - but the memory will endure a hundred
thousand years in my sensitive soul


1. Lyrics “Cent Mille Chansons” Frida Boccara

Il y aura cent mille chansons
Quand viendra le temps des cent mille saisons
Cent mille amoureux
Pareils à nous deux
Dans le lit tout bleu de la terre
Cent mille chansons rien qu'à nous
Cent mille horizons devant nous
Partagés de bonheur
Tout étalé de nos cœurs
Et des châteaux insensés
Et des bateaux étoilés
Et des étoiles oubliées
Et tes yeux et mes yeux
Dans un océan d'amour

Il y aura cent mille chansons
Quand viendra le temps des cent mille saisons
Cent mille maisons
Gravées à ton nom
Parmi les moissons de la terre
Cent mille chansons rien qu'à nous
Cent mille horizons devant nous
Partagés de bonheur
Tout étalé de nos cœurs
Et des pays reconnus
Et des forêts éperdues
Et des chagrins défendus
Et tes yeux et mes yeux
Dans un océan d'amour

[Cent Mille Chansons Lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com/]

http://www.filestube.com/91c7ccdb2768894403e9,g/Frida-Boccara-Cent-Mille-Chansons.html

2. Whispering Spirit in the cupboard & Dragworm:
Quoted from Eva Ibbotson “Not Just a Witch”

Weaving Waltzes

The epitome of mindless existence,
the apex of living, dancing down the
street to the beat of romantic tunes
in my ears, feeling the rhythm all-con-
suming invading my being

Having a rave all by myself, enjoying
breathing as means to move forward
forgetting everything in isolated bubbles
of perfect moments strung together by
feet twisting in magical sandals

Weaving waltzes and beating marches
all over the pavement, oblivious to all
other examples of people - becoming
faceless background to my joyous
dance as a particle of light

In a glorious inner universe…

Stuck In Limbo (Revised)

An early office arrival, inbox empty, no-one to
defuse my early morning grumpiness, no texts
to target my grudge on life against, forced to direct
displeasure at inane 7:25 am animation in myself,
nursing a headache, feeling useless

Still in a state of shock replaying my daughter’s
flagrant driving this weekend in my head, lost on
how to solve existential conundrums or fete time
meaningfully when life seems so pointless in being
devoid of boring mountains of words

Filling emptiness with fury and anger, focussing my
mind on other people’s problems stated in dead-
end sentences – preferable to living a non-life in
office necromancy, twiddling my thumbs until
desultory but distracting documents arrive

Reality does not exert pressure on me, create a
need to escape, I am stuck in limbo, no idea how to
solve this strange challenge – existence without
challenge or pressure seems utter waste, I must
create my own reality, but where shall I begin?


[ORIGINAL]

Walking into the office, no documents in my inbox,
no-one to direct my early morning grumpiness at,
no texts to absorb my grudge against life, forced
to direct my displeasure at being alive at seven
twenty five at myself, nursing a headache feeling
useless, still in a state of shock when replaying my
daughter’s driving this weekend in my head, at a
loss to solve existential conundrums how to pass
the time in a meaningful way when life seems so
pointless without mountains of boring words to fill
the emptiness with fury and anger, focus my mind
on other people’s problems stated in dead-end
sentences – which is preferable to living a dead-
end life in the office, twiddling my thumbs until
documents arrive – since reality does not exert
pressure on me creating a need to escape from
irritating demands, I am stuck in limbo, no idea
how to solve this strange challenge – existence
without pressure seems utterly useless, I must
create my own reality and where should I begin?

Wilting Spirit Whispering (Revised)

I heed a spirit’s whisper wilting on
the wind, don’t fell my tree; in dark
of seated silence words fall as pebbles
noisomely – disturbing inner calm,
angering pointlessly

All are baulked with bated breath –
it feels as if the end is coming near
and blindly stifles life, I can’t create
a thing, your reading messages from
worldliness alive now interferes:

So aliens drive Africa in Volkswagen
Beetles, ancient Landrovers, make
a mess of cold emptiness, creating
static within the fearsome silence
already within, spurring turmoil

Scared – scared of tomorrow,
scared of increasing darkness
of great loneliness
scared of being me –
of no chance of escape…


[ORIGINAL:]

I feel like a wilting spirit whispering
on the wind, don’t chop down my tree,
sitting in the darkness of silence, words
falling like pebbles, disturbing the quiet
in my mind and making me angry

Everybody living with bated breath - it
feels as if the world is coming to an end,
life is stifled, I cannot create anything,
your reading out messages from the
world of the living: foreigners

crossing Africa in Volkswagen Beetles
and ancient Landrovers – makes a mess
of the cold emptiness in my head, creating
even more static in the fearsome silence it
already contains, living in turmoil

Scared – scared of tomorrow, scared of the
increasing darkness and great loneliness
scared of being me, no chance of escape…

Shudder in my Sleep

The perfect recipe for being a passenger in a car
driven by an eighteen year old girl: Reading a
book, allowing her to choose her route, staying
calm and suggesting the nearest off-ramp when
entering the highway by mistake

Reminding her dad would have stopped at every
robot in orange and all four-way stops; making
a pact: we shall both drive sedately from now
on, accepting that my driving caused the kids
deep fear since they were small

Shaking hands, we shall BOTH imitate dad,
pointing out she can’t assume a slow moving
car will keep moving and she can bear down
on it at full speed- focusing on a book in my
lap, not seeing what my little driver does

I remain calm, tomorrow we shall tackle the
steep incline; one hellish challenge - forgive
me the goosebumps - and if I shudder in my
sleep – when does a young driver learn to
slow down confronting an obstacle? Oh!

Save Me Instead

Rima never watches scary movies while I never read
sad books; trusting Jean Ure to be a good author for
children, I read her book, expecting the abused kids
to escape nasty parents – it did not happen; leaving
me with a gaping hole in my heart

The whole world bathed in a sad grey light, yet it was
necessary to feel this sadness tonight, felt melancholic
and useless all day: my eighteen year old kid getting
angry at me and nearly crashing, not stopping at stop
streets and barging in front of people

Not listening to me, stalling the car on a steep incline,
stalling on the road because changing gears down is
too much effort for the lofty ‘Madame’, I am a failure
as driving instructor, a failure at work, no documents
received for processing, no idiots writing

To the President, they might have made me angry, but
it would have meant being useful- I’m only an oxygen
thief trying to learn about quantum physics instead of
trying to meet demanding requirements, this is most
unsettling, my mind is unhinged, I’m lost

I have nothing to rant and rave about, just the cold
knowledge that I have nothing to dream about after
reading the world is well-ordered and does not need
saving, if I cannot save it, the world must save me
instead, give me a goal to accomplish…

Life is Lovely

I’m doing my best to realise your ideal – I mean
being true to being unhappy, but I am surrounded
by dysfunctional people - who enjoy being happy
Rima is laughter personified, Christine thinks life
is lovely, just for her to be amused and surprised

Hanlie insists on making the world beautiful with her
wonderful being, June is delighted with her house in
Gordon’s Bay, Martin is satisfied with the ideals he
sees being realised by two amazing kids following
his advice, my daughter shines in movie treats

My son dreaming big; at the office everyone breaks
out in smiles, I am really trying to get in touch with
my inner pain but it eludes me at present, though
I shall not give up in trying to reach the depths
of despair you prescribe, in deference to your

Amazing ability to find unhappiness behind every
happy façade, I am so glad you kindly informed
me how unhappy everyone has been and how
deeply mortified everyone should be once they
realize the pain in their hearts – yet right now

I am going with the flow of dysfunctional people
all being so happy they don’t even know how
terribly unhappy YOU know them to be, just
know I am working on it…

Lack Of Haute Couture

Beware Sam Vimes; annoyed by a fantailer hat,
jodhpurs and a nervous smile; Sam took on the
legendary Jane Austen, author of world renowned
Pride and Prejudice, to reform her into a modern
writer, criticized the flimsy attire of her five girls

Sending them to Florence Nightingale nursing, open
a Milliner’s shop to put an end to their small talk, marry
Mr Collins the curate shunned by a fastidious Elizabeth
and deleting Mr Darcy; I must agree, Captain Carrot
lords it over all other hero’s in likeability, magical

powers and nobility to withstand pressure to become
king, though he knows his ancestry, being a superhero;
the intrepid commander sees nervous smiles as dead
giveaway of disagreeable intent and jodhpurs means
burgled silverware seen in trousers outlined in teapots

This offensive ensemble is described with inimitable
Pratchettian aplomb: ‘a presumably self-inflicted triple
misfortune’ - oh yes, I have also been caught wearing
self-inflicted triple - even quadruple - misfortunes of all
kinds, suffering from lack of haute couture

And I mean to go on suffering this way, it is much
more fun than being elegant all the time!


Snuff – Terry Pratchett, Doubleday 2011
pp. 243, 244

DNA Stargate

I give in, in light of the evidence, I have to
admit telepathy to be real, biological Inter-
net communication seems natural among
everybody – just allow me to add that

Real knowledge do not seem to transfer
through the instinctual system, I am only
aware of emotions and feelings, state of
mind - information remains obscure

I am hooked on feeling and atmosphere,
love my job not because of what we do,
translating such boring texts, but for the
magical atmosphere created by

My lovable and loving colleagues, to work
for Pollyanna who puts a positive spin on
everything, have a Mme La Pompadour
for excitement and a caring Wendy

Now let me introduce the information found
on the Internet - my DNA does not receive
data automatically by supernatural CD as
some zealous psychics claim…


Russian biophysicist and molecular biologist
Pjotr Garjajev’s cutting-edge research on our
esoteric DNA to determine a purpose for the
90% of it which seems superfluous

Vernetzte Intelligenz, Grazyna Fosar & Franz
Bludorf - Baerbel-translated - explains remote
healing, intuition, affirmation techniques, clair-
voyance, unusual auras around gurus

and mind’s influence on weather patterns; are
caused by DNA patterns in vacuum producing
wormholes magnetized, miniature equivalents
of bridges near star burn-out known as

black holes; forming tunnels which transmit
information outside time and space as DNA
attracts and sends information bits to human
consciousness - hyper-communication -

Inter-dimensional information downloaded via a
DNA stargate - psychics exchange complex
ideas through invisible DNA networks which
cover large distances - thus this explains

Telepathy, sensing the state of far-off relatives,
how animals know at what time owners plan to
come home - the phenomena are interpreted as
hyper communication & group consciousness

Illustrated by phantom DNA effect; when Vladimir
Poponin beamed laser through a tube with DNA
which was then removed, laser light continued
spiraling as within a crystal beam - energy

from outside time and space flows through the
activated wormholes, seen in electromagnetic
fields around psychics which make CD players
cease until the dissipation of the field


http://www.nrgnair.com/MPT/zdi_tech/DNA.research.htm
Russian DNA Research
http://www.psychicchildren.co.uk/4-3-RussianDNAResearch.html