Fables and Revelations

Dancing in the sea of the storm, looking beyond and before, staring at the ships that set a sail into the deep dark ocean afar, I stare at my feet and wonder the bitter sweet wonders of leaving and being left behind. A yellow plastic box of jewellery, a shelf stacked brim full of books and a room of green murals, like warm like blood, leaving was such a bittersweet affair. The kisses and the warmth, the cherished and the strong, the leapers and the saints, touch my lips like a taste of holy wine. I yearn for it, but only to have a taste, only to embrace it when the angel touches it’s feet on the sins of this earth and make it once again complete. Watching the ships and pondering the wonders of their journey, I wonder a brief wonder, like a slow cool breeze that skims right through me, touching every uncovered epithelial layer, sending me into a tiny shudder like little earthquakes, it engulfs me. I wonder of the many journeys of the people who in the years have drifted into the vast se...

Thousands of lights twinkle endlessly across the river, winking like a secret smile. Twinkling like a child with a secret bound in their heart and a whisper on their lips. Like a millions tales kept silence bound by the chains of Pandora’s box. She giggles her giggles and never will cease, the urge to pry, to seek to curb that need. The lunar eclipse looms within the day, the moon pearly white shall be drenched in the sands of blood for a swift night and it’s ring of fire will blaze the sky setting it in all it’s wondrous might. Petals of crystallised flowers fill the curtain that is the night sky as I sit back in wonder of the miracle that is of this universe. Awaiting the blood moon, a chariot in the sky, that has turn the tides and tested time. The ironies of the blood moon that once saved Christopher Columbus and allowed him to continue his perilous journey. Convincing natives that he had calmed their gods is now a country that has shed much blood like the red of the furious moon.

I finally caught the movie curse of the golden flower. It was a pretty good movie despite the ridicules three dimensional antics and the fact no one actually says long live the king in the forbidden city and like every other person is wearing gold or yellow. Had the best pizza ever with the guys at home from a pizza place just right behind our place close to the news agency called Paesano, Simon and me had a sweet chilli chicken and it was like the super duper best pizza ever. I wish I could mail it to everyone but it’ll just get all fungi and gooey in the mail. We had it for 2 Saturdays in a role, Simon says ..no pun intended that Saturday is Pizza night and I'm all for the idea. It's not the heathiest choice of take away but a break from cooking once a week is always good news for me. I went for the gallery crawl for living artist week on Friday evening from 6pm to about 8ish that evening,me and Jo checked out a heap of galleries walking from Salamanca down to Hunter’s stree...

I can see the wind sweeping pass the windows as the orange light of the evening flutter silently like the scurry of shadow puppets. Quiet is the evening of the disheartened. Silent is the soul that speaks so softly with heads bowed and palms to the heavens. In silence it weeps and with woe, it finds the sweet savoury comfort the pleasant creeping sense of melancholy like a twisting branch of ivy slowing but surely like a parasite leeching ever so tightly around my neck. This dusk till dawn has been a series of rather tragically unfortunate events. It started with the cliché awaking late and squashing the snooze button after the nuclear siren blared pass my tiny little ears in protest of my blissful slumber. The warmth and comfort of the morning sun and pleasant feeling of my daily morning cuddles quickly drifted me off to the land where sandman drifts through the silvery days. School was a dreadful blur with sprouts of eventful information, which was quickly absorbed into the sponge th...

I’m waiting so far away, over the oceans, waiting for change in the mountains of snow and the layers of frost. Waiting to be one in a warm embrace. I remember the days when it’s so easy to just give up in a breath, a spark of light, to just simply fade away. Nevertheless, it’s time to wake up, to grow up, to stand up and reach up for the things that mean the world in this invisible universe. I’m out of excuses, out of breath, tired of running and going on back. There are visions to acquire and dreams to race for, and falling stars that collapse into dust in the warmth of my cold cold hands. Bury my soul in your sanity and let me kiss a drop of stardust and fade into the sweetness that is night once more. Love me in the darkness, even when the fire has faded and the cold remains.

The cries of the birds seem so close to me as they wisp by the window echoing their hollow cries. Looking out from above the roof tops, little toy trucks splutter below my feet and chug along to carry out their dailies. I just completed a an assignment and just sitting here chilling. The drifting clouds roll miles away across the river and amidst the mountains. The sky a bright gradient of sky blue rolling into a tinge of cyan where they kiss the clouds. I think about the magnificent bay that I once laid my eyes on and ponder about it in the strangeness that is of winter. I ponder about the nights where I stood overlooking the damp, humid city, watching the multitudes of orange lights beyond in the night, sipping on my Bellini and listening to the sweet whispers of those who are my friends. The lights, travelling for miles, made the city as vibrant as day. I wonder about the rickety seats of the cinema in town, the elderly ticket ushers that could snap my ticket at a flick of a wrist a...

This was a post that was wriiten a week ago but due to the rain pouring onto my study room and the wintery cold, I haven't been online at home very much. Man I can’t get over how chubby and adorable the sparrows are in Tasmania, utterly delectably squishy and cuddly looking. Mornings have been beautiful of late, it use to be rather monotonous as I set out for school alone in the cold and perpetually bored to tears as I listen to repeats on my ipod, trying to ensure that I would not fall asleep somewhere on the way to the bus mall. The bus rides though, is far from boring. For one, I haven’t seen anyone sleep on the bus and perhaps due to social pressure I usually try not to fall asleep on my ride to school. The view is great though, almost like a dreamy documentary, sitting on the bus, watching the world pass me by. Flocks of birds flying helter scalter over the river, feet dipping slightly into the cool water making streaks of light blue against the deep dark blue of the yawning r...