wow

i feel slightly cruel not posting the address of my New Blog, given that TWO people googled sky between branches, ONE "sky between branches elizabeth" today.

i have been missed eh? that's nice.
hi ON net, Brisbane. if you are someone i like, please email me, so i know it's not an undesirable, and i can give you my new blog.

or you know, you could follow the link there. or keep looking! it's funny. go team. awww. i feel so LOVED.

This Blog Is No Longer Operational

i have a new blog

this one is tired and old, and limp and dead.

if you are interested, i am fairly sure you can find it. it's not hard.

i've removed a swag of entries, put them into drafts. i'm too tired to bother doing any more. however, i am also anti-censorship, and would rather have this up, the way it should be, documenting as much of my time as it can without bringing down fire brimstone and madness.

Fun With Shelley.

To ----

One word is too often profaned
For me to profane it,
One feeling too falsely disdained
For thee to disdain it;
One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother,
And pity from thee more dear
Than that from another.

I can give not what men call love,
But wilt thou accept not
The worship the heart lifts above
And the Heavens reject not,--
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow?


Obvs, the fine Master Bysshe, taking back and marking time with a favourite poem of mine from my teenage years.

(this entry is inspired by the fact that i've been fiddling the last two lines of this in my head for a bit. the devotion, the far, the sorrow, it's flickering a little, in an angst-ridden way. and then i looked up the poem and re-read it. i liked it, deeply in the past, but now, older, and far more cynical, it seems less romantic, and more of a cop out. this rant is not about you, anyone, it's about my own irritation... as with last entry. general disillusionment, a little less magic realism now covers the world... snow melting, and the grass is dead under it.)


i can't remember, exactly, which of Shelley's passing fancies inspired this. he was a wanderer, and constantly strayed around mary, as though she was a flagpole, one hand upon her, swinging in circles, circles, her the stable, but in love with the romance of time, those fleeting moments, oh, i cannot have you and i shall weep, weep, weep, at the melancholy of it all. i shall let my soul be wrecked in torment, poetic mistress, as i cavort, and you, my love, shall watch patient at this.

of course, as a teenager, it merely was a good poem to cement adolescent angst over my teenage crush on brent. (now married to a lovely good christian girl, excellent), then niftily i could transfer the feelings to these words to hannah, my divine, large handed actress. then finally, the buck was passed to max, my shelleyan love, born on the same day, unable to swim, and adoring of parallels between his life and that of bysshe, (only without the 'free love' polyamoury).

i hated being a distant goddess - this is the situation my first relationship put me in. this poem leaves a bitter taste now. i can recall it from memory, shelley is the only poet with which i can do this. i enjoy his rhythm. i want to argue shelley verses keats verses byron. i never want a lover who hasn't read at least one of the three.

the idea that shelley is unable to love this woman, that she is impossible, that his desire for her is pointless and endless and spirals up like moths fluttering at little flickers in the sky, that the night that never reaches the sun, that the rays can never be it, and that they are in fact, in their nature, impossible; it's a cop-out, fucker.

'the passion' is my favourite re-write of the romantics - fiction, but retold from the perspective of the women, embroiled with their selfish, and emotionally ignorant lovers. did shelley ask the woman in the poem (i think this is the one entrenches in the top of a cloister somewhere, she's sixteen or something, i dunno, memory is not serving me well right now) whether she yearned to be loved like a few scales falling of a moth's wing? what is it that 'men call love' shelley, and what makes you above this, this time: your flighty ambitions? your invisible dreams? your romance romance let me have these words and suck them dry from the orange, the citrus staining the corners of my mouth and stinging any small cracks in the lips? what's the use of poetry when ahhh, you are just an impossible flight to the stars, and the moth? does it know what a star is? does it care? it's misguided. it doesn't see a star. it sees something, and it is misguided, and it's directionless, and it too will die fast, flattened against the earth, under the tread of someone's shoe, or pinned to a board. little moth, your devotion is nothing. it's misplaced biology.

party hard....

lazy afternoon park dozing, with my amazingly great leather (sorry, cow, but it was at LEAST third hand, and a present...) jacket.

maybe not so late. i hadn't had much sleep! really! dozy dozy!

i am not sure what exactly it is that i have eaten in the last 48 hours that has caused my stomach to hate me, with a profound, badly stinking gaseous passion. but whatever it is, god, people, stay a good ten feet away. be glad loyal readers, and regular IP addresses (HI ON.NET.AU, damn you were up early, rise and shine with the birdies, singing away, 5 am?? i bet you slept alone, surely no one with a lover and a warm soft bed and arms and gentle giggles in the evening would be reading my blog so early, god, you think i write in here so constantly because i'm HAPPY with my life?) that you are kept distant through a screen and fiber optic cables. despite my (dubious) physical temptations (yes, i lose contact/one on one time with people due to mere presence ah lament) it's better to be further when the air flows like This, my dears.

my desk at work is now immaculate (by my standards). i feel my Expressing of Interest for work in another section has fallen to dust, oh i rise about my station, don't i, little bigmouth strikes again...

Like love we don't know where or why,
Like love we can't compel or fly,
Like love we often weep,
Like love we seldom keep.

WH Auden (tail end of poem keep in context remove it, repeat it, replay it, love and law and poetry - these are the things that Kill me... i could go for a walk where it's quiet and dry, oh talk to me of precious things....)

i lost my faith in (womanhood?)? in general? ah we put our faith in love and it is misguided, really. we need retreat into logic, but that often sickens me, callous logical cause and effect, i know this on hearing words chopped out of mouths, even ones i've kissed, i hear those words of cautious clarity, of stunted sense, of searching for biological fitting partners, and i know this is not me, at all, ever, and that at heart, i am not a logical creature... i've just taken refuge in it, because my heart always leans me into circles and grabs an arm behind my back, throws me face down on to the floor and surrenders up a list before me :

darling heart and romance
contextual generation
some wierd mix of words i don't think you understand (this is numerous times over)
nothing blank no chance
i cannot kiss you because then i may love you; but i can make love to you, inside inside you, breathe on my neck, please, you god, you empty hungry ghost, take me ....

i get these lists and answers and i am not a logical creature. i want flesh and blood, and hand over hand. i want that madness.

home. someone is in my kitchen...

COOKING FOR ME!

being cooked for in exhange for... fucking anything is worth it. especially N cooking, which is excellent cooking. DELICIOUS cooking. vegetarian galore cooking. bunny is glowering on the floor, a little rocking thumpy bunny.

we are outfitting kitchen - and i am moving rooms - this will be painful, but necessary. i can Do It. go team! money is surprisingly stable at the moment, spending is being responsible. house full of food, and warmth, and good things. buns running around merrily, pooping more than a little... (bless you urine off - small animals - i use it very much now...) running and running and RUNNING and jumping onto the POO COUCH which is a happy place for them... especially big bunny who loves nothing more than pooping all over it.

i am optimistic that the two buns are going to be Friends soon, we'll introduce them, and with n's help, they will love each other Very Much.

we are trying to work out how to turn on my oven.. i think we succeeded! we also have BANDAID's! and toilet paper! let the house training process begin!
win!

soon, i will be as useful as the bunnies! MORE useful!

also cleaned desk at work today. v. constructive. go team. oh! tea! i want tea! so will have tea. and CUPCAKES! n. bought CUPCAKES! there is a lot of win in my happy little haus tonight. the Haus of Lizards and Bunnies just gets warmer every day! and reading, reading, more reading, little paintings, must do another one... yes... what of, a cow maybe, wander wonder wonder... or BUNNIES. or people... many things. was thinking of doing some marlene dumas paintings on little canvases.

only one twitch today, it was not too bad either, fairly balanced thoughts, movin' it along, goodly every daily movin, yes you are ok now, i am a bird, now. little bird has wings i think! no, i do! i do !!
and little bunny is lying, snuggled against the couch... all is good.

i have watched this two and a half times in the last few days

this is a movie which is very special to me - cousin n. bought down a copy. the above you tube clip is but a small fragment of its glory.

i am not sure if the music in this short excerpt is not good enough to do it justice, really....

so many emotions flood me when i watch it. i laugh. i cry. i feel human.
i want a remake. i want to DO the remake.

oh yeah, it's me birthday!

photos first.

reflection later. i might get something out, i am not sure, some sort of idea of how i feel, buzzed a little, exhausted, too little sleep, warmer, i remember that warmth, that feeling of not sleeping alone is closer now, after two nights of warmth again. that different warmth - loveless sounds harsh, but is the closest i come - and it was a reminder, a remembering that i will and can get on with things, so much clearer than any other focus can, and done better than with some random stranger. i remember that i have solved nothing, but just remembered that my head is cleared. the first sexual experience post breaking up with someone you intently love is hard, for me. it breaks my heart a little, i shatter a little, because THIS was something i only wanted to do with my lover. it was the place where i felt most intently, powerfully, beautifully, sacredly loved. when i love someone intently, and our physical expressions of this take a really profound form, something that's only happened to me in my four relationships, and one time with a friend who i love, and oh god, that one was hard to recover from... i find the first movement backwards, the first time again, the first physicality with someone else horribly hard, and upsetting, and isolating.

but i was ok. i am ok. i will be ok. there was no hapless weeping, no misery, just a sadness, a knowledge, a flatness that is coming from the situation now. a sanguine acceptance, which is more cynical than i like to be. but cynicism is idealism that's been proved wrong, when idealism was proved fiction, and the gap and the truth, the waking up and looking at the reality shows nothing more than the flat words that are a myriad of difference each reflection, and oh, you say that, but you say it again differently, and each of these fictions is truth in a way. and i am tired of that. i was tired of that. that fiction is not a fiction of flickering mistruths that i want to dive through. my cynicism comes out of this, and it'll smooth out, like a folded sheet that's lifted and unfurled, flapping softly, one day. right now, it's creased and shoved in a bag, but perfectly in tact. and one day, it will softly come out, and be held between me and someone else. we'll take a few steps apart, and we'll unfurl it, and listen to that sharp thump that sheets make when stretched and moved between two people.

it'll smooth out with my future, when i am healed.

i haven't been angry since the first Not Angry post. the anger is gone. sometimes, there is a tightness, but the only time that's been bad was due to other reasons - something that deeply irritated me not because of who he was, but how i felt. having someone act in a way you find exceedingly unacceptable, for whatever reason, when you have a great deal of respect for them, is always disappointing.

my weekend has been wonderful. i've had friends and loved ones and family and urban family around me, dancing and hugging and taking me home. i've had calls from my two most loved men in brisbane, Noog and the Jule, and both are visiting in the next few months, and i am hungry for that. the subtle twitch that's always in my heart for Jule is there, oh yes, you know, it's always there, but his personal similarities to E put me off more than a bit right now. i feel deeply content to love him, openly, unquestioningly, and utterly, and continue to expect nothing from him. i never have, and when i am let down, it is sadness, not disappointment. i never came to trust him with my heart, or trust him to look after me, and that was my mistake with E. i trusted his shifting sand words, as they settled on me. they are, obviously, completely true in each moment. but then they shift, his moment gone, and he has resolution he needs over there, and everything he said about one promise, just shifts away....

jule, well, he'd never make a promise, because he knows his mind shifts rapidly. that's more now what causes the flatness- the inability to stop and reflect and go 'maybe i won't mean this one day, maybe i should not make this promise...'. i am slowly more indifferent and blank, because the discomfort has passed, and it's just disillusioned now. but i need to remember it's disillusionment with one person, not relationships, not love, not all of this. i need to remember times where things worked out. i need to look at patterns and recognise this earlier. if i'm protecting my heart, well, it's probably closed for a reason - don't open it, no, don't give in, you had good reason, and you knew it would happen, little heart. there was not a single part of surprise in me, only solid, sick knowledge that it would happen. oh i knew.

and i know that some librarians don't know fiction from non fiction. i know sometimes, we don't have any idea at all if what we say is true of our own hearts. but the inability to know that we do not know, that frustrates me, saddens me, and makes me feel slightly let down, even now, even with the slow burn recovery, little better yes, each day, well, not even sad so much as there are dreams i had and now they are dead in my bag with all the scrap paper and dirty receipts. i mourn them now... little dreams falling away, little dreams you'll be ok now.... we'll make new ones.

it's my birthday, and i'll dress like an idiot if i want to!!!

this outfit confuses me.....




as too does the colour of the sign......



this hat is too big. i am still confused.....

i had a wonderful night and day leading up to birth time, including some very dirty dancing with some very lovely ladies, bunnies in cafes (snuggling in boobs... bless) wandering civic, drinking and films, drinking and drinking, drinking and dancing.

and no hang over! thanks, Kali! (this week is Kali worship week. bought to you by my retarded outfit).

bunnies and chocolate and movies Oh My!

big bunny is adoring n. being here. she's got an incredible gift with animals, like no one else i have met. it's her beautiful, strong, but amazingly gentle soul. she is the woman who cares for animals - they know deeply how much she loves them, and that she will protect them and care for them and know what to do. the bunnies adore her. well, little bunny is just neutral, but big bunny is overjoyed. some animals connect profoundly with some people and little bunny is a little too... soft... to have that sort of human connection. he likes licking some people more than others - but big bunny, you really get the sense of it, and he knows n. is someone who can be trusted, and who loves him.

right now, n is on skype with her dad, his wife helen and n's lizard, Kali, in toowoomba; he's looking after Kali - she's watching Kali have dinner right now. (kali = bearded dragon). you can see her on the skypes behind me in the photo, as i huggle little un, all shedding away, his little loops of hair floating up and catching on the tip of your nose and tickling it. she's showing them the bunnies, through the internet.

friend b is on couch next to n.

both bunnies out, resulted in a wonderful chase scene around the apartment. it was delightful, neither seemed too upset; little bun is now sitting on the bottom shelf of an empty bookshelf, staring at the shelf's edge, very intently, very still, as though he is a book. it's amazingly adorable.



one needs to classify what one needs. and i am learning, oh yes, i am seeing and defining, people teach us this, and we see deeply unfavorable things in many people, and there is so much one can see is acceptable... i know i need to look for what i need, and i am learning more and more what i want, and not, and loves and losses follow one another, and i am free in this, free in this, and hand over hand, i'll not fall again, now.

international act like a t-rex day

rarrwwwhh.

act like a t-rex, everyone. rawwhhhh.... rawwhhhh... RAWWWHHHWHHWHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

getting back on the horse after a bad fall is important.

though takes you back. but not in a bad way, no. not in a bad way.

face face face.

1.
TIRED.

2. cousin n is here! win!!!

3. i have PIE still.

4. n is giving bunny reiki and he LOVES it. he is a good bunny like that, mr tumbles. he is also enjoying n's purple hair.

5. cousin m. bought me BATH BOMBS from lush. oh god. Oh God. i am weeping with joy at lush bath bombs.

6. one arrived visitor, one to go.

7. neck is killing, would probably cut off three, maybe four toes for a massage right now.

8. again with the re-definitions, i am pleased with things now. today was illuminating for me in many ways.

9. mr tumbles is very happy in himself. he's a little buddha of a creature. he makes me warm and safe and loved, that bunny. the bunnies are getting a new haus ... decisions now must be made as to Which bunny will get the larger haus. oh god, i think i am going make a poll for my blog! yes, i stole this idea from a colleague's blog. as he never mentions my name, i believe it would be utterly unfitting for me to mention theirs.

10. guest two arrived.

white feather

i considered sending it up in a blank yellow envelope with your name on it. slipping it onto your desk carefully, quietly, and slipping away in turn, carefully, silently. you'd maybe think it was from me, i know, but likely not, likely not, it could be some of your other 'fans'.

disclaimer. as this is a BLOG, rather than an accurate recording of history, the events retold in here may reflect more of my own Feelings on an event, than the actual situation. regardless, i feel that my own idea is valid, and my own feelings are valid, and that you, loyal readers, are fully able to work out for yourself if my position is biased. clearly, anything relating to someone i have feelings for who i am no longer in a relationship with is going to be a little volatile, and biased. i am assuming that you, loyal readers, can understand this.

the reliance on the audience, on the adoration of women, the submission of men, of the posture, of the stance, of the 'this is MY man territory, other man' even over tables, at people who seem to be taking up more space, is a little sad. you made your choice, so don't posture. don't lean forward, don't stretch those arms back, eyes threatened, narrowed, body language is clearer than words.

you know what, loyal readers?

i don't think everyone hates grads. i think my idea of this has been undermined by repeatedly being Told it. emphasized that i am loathed on the basis of my job. i've heard before that i've been incorrectly informed about people hating me, and i'm choosing to go with the angle that i am NOT hated because of my job. people may NOT think it's fair that i get privileges, and you know, that's ok. however, maybe i'm not as hated as i've been lead to believe. maybe, just maybe, this was a little bit more about undermining my self confidence in the organisation, when i was already more than a little insecure. sometimes, it's better to be gentle.

oh it's so easy to laugh, it's so easy to hate,
it takes strength to be gentle and kind.
and it might just be a smiths quote, but i also think it is profoundly true. it's a lot harder to be kind and gentle to people. you are taking a risk. it's so easy to laugh at people, so Easy to be sarcastic and cynical, and negative and bored and indifferent. to be open, and joyous, and gleeful and gentle, and kind to others is hard. it takes strength of character to be so vulnerable. and i would rather be strong and vulnerable. i would rather say 'i love you, and sometimes this is hard, when you shut off and act cold because it is Easier than being raw and open,' rather shutting off and being cold myself. i would rather be kind. i am going to try to be kind, and not taunting. i am bigger than proving that i can be attractive to others. i know this. i am bigger than taunting. i am bigger than proving things. i am bigger than mocking and making light of the situation.

the reason i want to is because i was made to feel small, and i want to be big again. however, i can be bigger, much bigger without the small. i can be big through being open, and kind, and gentle. of showing that yes, my feelings haven't changed. i still have that ring around my finger. i still love you. only it's changed, and the change is difficult to negotiate in the workplace. it's not even so much about her, but about the oddness, the newness, and the distance. and it's hard, and i feel vulnerable. but i am Strong in that knowledge, because i can use that vulnerability to be bigger, and stronger, and MORE of an amazon warrior. warriors have soft parts, they know where they are, and they appreciate it. they make themselves stronger though, they learn about their limitations and strengths, and they work to them, defend what needs defending, and hold what matters close to the heart and not give in.

i stand tall. i am good, and i am kind, and i am open, and that is a beautiful thing. i'll not become harsh and cynical and sarcastic, or bitter and negative and believing the world is out to get me. it is not fair or unfair. i am very, very lucky. everyone is.
i will not try and match behaviour to what i think you must prefer, actions speak louder, so much louder. there is nothing wrong with who i am, and i refuse to hold that to be true, that it is better to be harsh and bitter and cynical and laugh at the world, rather than to wonder and see the beauty and the magic and the open and the hope and the goodness as well as the harshness.