| If I only had a ..... |
[May. 21st, 2012|10:18 pm] |
Something joyful seemed to escape his mind for that moment. It galloped around the room shining women, sunshine and food all into his lap, and then vanished. It went where his words had gone, leaking out into the world dissapaiting in the instance he saw them free.
Part of him was happy that they'd gone. What they were was hard to say, especially since after they went, they left. It gave him a headache the unknowns and the varriables in his head - those two words he remembered because he didn't think they'd be able to escape as easily - variables and unknowns were too big to think out. He gave a sigh in relief, at least he'd have them, unknown, variable, and he wouldn't be.......*huff*
Another word.
#######
Here we go a something in the dark. A messy idea written in less than 5 minutes, but here it is as always brimming with it's own self and existence. I wish I did let a lot more ideas out though, forgetting them is the worst part... :/
Ah well, if critic were to be given it'd go: short, misspelling, smother lines and check perspective (Who are you). But I am no critic today, just a pair of hands trying to get rid of the idle thoughts of the head.
I'm still going to Europe, still working, still playing saxophone, still occasionally feeling uneasy about personnal peace, still being too busy for my own good, still loving a woman (although nothing will become of it), still still still as a plate of glass. Still I sit, same as before, with the same little things, hopefully a tiny bit better.
Oh how a wish would be a nice, and a fire and a bear. But I am already in bed, and sleep too near.
G'nite
Me, Daniel, Yoddeuss |
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| Time keeps rolling on |
[May. 9th, 2012|12:09 am] |
| [ | Tags | | | short, sparse, story | ] |
| [ | Current Swing |
| |  blank | ] |
| [ | Current Groove |
| | Alpha Centauri , Lal theme | ] |
It moved with an immensity that went against it's small size, each degree of rotation building up a momentum that could only be described as dramatic. An orchestra, upon viewing such a thing, would immidiatey lead into A Night On Bald Mountain, building the intention and finality of music to such an intensity, as the last few notes faded away, he air would be thick with the event.
Time was ever moving forward, and nothing could ever stop it,
Ignore it like I did and the consequences, while not dire, will reward you with a backhand slap into the unexpected, and the thing is you won't even realise it was happening. Years will pass, from one instance of your life to another, and you'll be none the wiser. That is, of course, not counting the sense of your dreams slowly leaking out of your body, until, when the last chance is gone, it's ghostly apparition haunts you with the missed oportunities. Letting you know how you let time pass, all because of unwarranted inattention.
If you want to live your life, you better start taking notice of it.
#####
Here's something, my 5th since the start of the year.... this doesn't bode well as a track record :/ . Still nonetheless it's something - perhaps the non leakage of a dream. In anycase it's done and I can be proud that I've done something for this semester.
Anyhow, since it's now tomorrow by the stroke of midnight, good night. Hopefully I'll be seeing you sooner rather than later.
Dan/Me/Yoddeuss |
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| Old drinking buddy.... |
[Apr. 21st, 2012|10:16 am] |
"You know what you are?"
The question came from a man decked out in punk rock fluro, he didn't look dangerous in a death metal band way, but he did look like he could freak out at will. His eyes dangled nervously behind dark hornrimmed sunglasses, he looked only a little worse from the last time I saw him. But we'd gone out own ways ... I'd been too busy to go drinking with him. Swishing his half finished scotch towards me Mrof caught the tail of what he wanted to say.
"You are......"
He took a breath and hiccuped quietly to himself.
"Quite...." His hands twirled up to the air, half spilling scotch.
"Uh ... forget..... no neglectful .. I mean you're negligent in the way you conduct yourself." He paused for a few moments before adding a forceful "SIR."
I didn't really have an answer, and I hadn't nearly drunk enough to bullshit through his accusations, he'd never let it go.
"I've been busy, to be honest." The words slipped out as easy as the bourbon went in. "I don't want to not see you it's just.... a man's got to eat."
"So you've been eating this entire time just to avoid me, is that it?" Mrof's mind sobered by anger spat out an argument that must've been lying dormant for a while. "You say you have to eat, you say you're busy, you say you need to go out with your other friends... but what about me? What about us? Weren't we going to do things together, make things happen? accomplish our dreams? You were going to write with me 500 words a day, a story here, a story there and before long people would start to take notice."
"But they didn't" the words came out like a blade, cutting his rant to pieces. "They didn't notice, so I had nothing, could do nothing, and eventually did nothing."
"You gave up, you're the one that decided it wasn't worth it anymore - how far did it go? Two weeks, three? And then all of the sudden, nothing I hear nothing from you. No emails, phonecalls, or meeting up - it was working well and you decided to go down another path."
"A path that would get me paid"
Mrof threw down a fist on the table, spreading ice everywhere. "Don't give me that bullshit, do not give me that god damn crap about needing to be paid. What bloody for? Bills? Your sisters medicine? What? What did you need so much more than your self proclaimed love of writing? You seemed happy with the idea that you wouldn't get a lot of money out of it."
"I needed the experiences, to get out, to go and get new ide-"
"Which you couldn't get from what you already had." Mrof drained his scotch and poured another missing most of the glass, he put it shakily to his lips.
"You're full of shit you know that."
I'd taken enough of this. "Oh fuck off."
"Ohh look the big man has finally done it and sworn. Woop-ti-doo now I'll just leave you to your own devices and not worry about your future - let alone mine."
"Yours?"
He put the glass down and levelled his eyes at me, as much as a drunk man could. Red and puffy with a hint of yellow, his iris shone as he said these words.
"I wanted this dream as much as you do, writing for writings sake, for people to learn, laugh and play. As well as all that contrasting bullshit. The point is it was going to be good - you were going to be good and instead we're just here."
He looked down into his glass.
"Drinking."
*****
I reached over a hand to his shoulder.
"I could write about this."
And with that a smile sprouted from his chin.
###############
And that's what I feel that this has come down to sometimes, a harsh drinking/writing game where no one - not me, not the journal, not super busy me, nor punk rocker me, is happy. But then again the whole thing is a mockery unto itself - I wrote it up so .... I'm still doing what I want... even if I do get a little side tracked.
Possible criticms: I use too much dialogue not enough description - place can be just as much a character as people. And people can just as much be setting as place. Also the first person perspective while okay, doesn't really go into the personal thoughts. Other than that it's pretty good.
###############
Hmmm so now what?
My roommates have left, leaving the house finally clean and to be honest a little empty - which is good and bad (the cleanliness though is Allllllllll types of good). I'm begining to see how much I can do without other people (case in point this/meals/less being considerate [of which I am to a fault, and humble too]), but also how good it is to be able to sit down and talk after a hard day of uni/work. Ah well pros and cons of the world are commonplace.
I've finished my mid semester work of which there were 7 or so essays. Quite enjoyable ones, but still by the last one (completed two nights ago) I was done.
*Cue Jap friends coming over and watching tv shows till 3am, sleeping, then opening up my computer.*
That was then, now I've found out that I got a measley 60/65% for Greek! PAH! Which would be understandable if there was anything seriously wrong with the essay, but, for me at least, I didn't see so many problems that I wouldn't get a 70 or so for it. Sigh* Anyhow this doesn't bode well for the rest of my subjects, considering Greek was the first one I accomlished. Hmmmm.... A bit annoyed about that.
Anyhow, since that trail of thought has gone as of 20 hours or so ago. I'll bid you adieu.
Dan/Me/Yoddeuss |
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| Well hello old old friend.... |
[Mar. 31st, 2012|11:07 pm] |
It's been a tad of a while, with me disappearing for about two months..... and... what I have to show for it is: I'm busy, work, uni and too much Smallville.
To be honest this journal, while not on its last legs hasn't, in the last two months or so, really hasn't been needed - I've been writing in my journal and ad lib on various word documents that won't see the touch of a cookie. I would like of course to have this as a springboard for all of my thoughts, but of late... well I've kept those quiet, secret and safe. Which on the odd occasion can be considered fine, but in the interests of the ever current internet unfairly depriving for potential readers - but am I interested in them? Or is it this act of writing is solely for me, and my publishing online a further validation of their existence?
Who knows I made this journal for writing, whatever that entails, and so far it's worked - I write. Everything else is a bonus. Well written and interesting was never originally in my charter of online journals. Though that would be a good next step, pushing what I currently have (this) to something more.
There's ideas here and there, some sort of review site for all of Melbourne's festivals (HAH), a story based journal site, more professional looking this, something which I can woo other literary minded people with.... just something more than a website made nearly ten years ago. Whether or not that eventuates to something is another matter entirely, as life, in all of its intricacies weaves many a tenuous line, which ones grow stronger or break away seems to be almost entirely arbitrary. Or so a fatalist would think.....
There's a desire and some motion towards it, so that's something. Its success is another matter entirely, as there's certainly other things I wish to do more, perhaps less inspirational, but still desired.
Now let's see now that that PSA's out what else is there to describe? The motion of a plasma machine centrifuging blood from plasma? The smile of a woman? The weariness of the homeless? A lost opportunity? The fear of the underclass, stuck in their place? There's a lot to be said... whether it should be said is another thing entirely.
So I'll leave you with a draft of a poem (now that I read over it I'm not too sure) written whilst waiting at a cafe:
The city seems to bustle more with the rain- a relaxation ending with the stress and worry of all weekday, 9 to 5 workers.
The synch of the city to its people is back - full of pacing?, yes sometimes, but also an ease
The relaxation time is now,
There needs be no excessive battle, just a drizzle for each denizen’s stop.
Cool air caresses with each gust, kissing and wrapping around warm bodies - it shows the steam on everyone's lips, the life waiting to be out - the need for some release, and so it hints, climbing under your jacket, the jumper, the shirt and slowly reaches across your chest, striking with the promise of " soon, soon..."
"Soon"
It takes warmth, this Melbourne weather trying to coax you out of a shell to shine with its touch, but it knows you won't give it, so it nips away stealing kisses from the heat (heart?), till you and it are one cold gust.
The loneliness could be the attraction, the long whistling cry of an empty sky, the tears falling from above, the fact that it finds you alone, and so it accompanies the absence.
A love this weather be, hinting at more, demanding constantly, till there's nothing left.
This Melbourne weather wants you all for herself.
#####
So not really a poem, more a stream of consciousness. It feels like something I'd write with an earlier poem "First Years, Last year’s" something I wrote about the start and end of university.. with the handymen being the only constants.... hmm weird.. Nice day it was when I wrote the above. So far in critic I can't offer much because it's not aiming towards anything in particular (perhaps more definite language/description), so unless I hold myself more accountable, or to a higher standard this piece will stay as it is, a half formed notion of the Autumn of Melbourne. <- A metaphor for this journal?
I'll leave the deeper decisions for later,
Dan, Me, A stranger of more than two weeks |
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| Sitting in a library |
[Feb. 7th, 2012|05:10 pm] |
Waiting for the minutes to turn,
They don't jump up and down like a digital watch would have them do,
No they turn analogous to wheels, going round and round repeating but moving imperceptible to all but the most savy.
And savy I am, savy to have the clock turn, work start, to go home, and to have sleep.
So determined in the way of the things, in the cyclic nature of the minutes and the days.
No thought spared for the new, the exciting, the opportunities, the chances.
No I stay here, sitting and waiting, hoping for the event to fall into my lap.
So the time goes round, and I wait for the change,
but as clocks are round
so is my life cyclical
and as ever circling
around
death.
######
Interesting for something I just thought of then, really a call to get my arse into gear, whilst acknowledging that somethings will be the same no matter what. It's a call to start writing pieces for submission, for reviews and analysis and articles of life, the world, and love.
But it is just a call that I can leave on hold whilst other things clamour for my attention. :/ A sad fate to be sure of dreams that might be big.
To set up a plan would be most wise. To draft a couple of articles even better. To write them a golden dream, and the acceptance of them almost impossible.
But seeing as I've got work to do tomorrow and tonight, with other things happening at other points, I will put this want to rest, and awake it another day.
Daniel/Dan/Yoddeuss/Me/Wishful-thinker. |
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| There's a lot to be said. |
[Jan. 29th, 2012|12:40 pm] |
But never enough air, so make sure the sounds you make are beautiful notes of self expression, and not the repetitive beats of a broken drum.
####
There was a peck to her cheek. A timeless moment that when thought of again felt almost imaginary. A peck, a gentle waft of affection capping the farewells of hugs into something else. It didn't need to matter, but yet for him it just seemed so definite.
Nervously, yet amiably, walking down the lake, making jokes, puns, talking of family and futures - it was almost time for both of them to go. Certainly there was talk of another imminent meetup later, but they were both busy and so could easily brush off the responsibility - nothing needed to be set. But yet...... when the goodbyes were cast and the farewell assured he reached, in-between the last breaths of an outing, to give her a kiss.
It wasn't something required or thought, perhaps even necessarily wanted, but it was there a moment of possibility in the spce of what was otherwise a routine day.
He thought of it as a gift, a collection of everything that he could possibly offer, it was himself he brought forward in that kiss.
For her, the thoughts were elusive in her mind, no knowing of what it could mean, contain, pertain, lead to, or even that it was a kiss that for him meant a lot.
The moment, an example of "the other," faded by the time he had pulled away and had him stumbling from its absence.
But he knew what to say, to make it clear to all.
"I like you."
######
Yes very wishy washy, full of all the awkward romantics which I am so very fond of - stuff which in the world of money and substance are put on for show, or some other cynical object. Yes, I'm trying to write, and perhaps be courageous (go fictional representation go!), again and in both regards it's something which I have to work on.
As for critic, I got too bogged into the mind of the man, instead of jumping between the two viewpoints of exactly what happens in an awkward/average date. For example: Just going out for one person, can easily for another be something completely different - saying (or even doing) what you expect the event to be can be quite confronting, especially in relation to someone else.
Anyway till I write again (or there's news)
Dan
P.S I realize this may be confusing but I'll edit it out/clarify later. |
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| The end of the year that I was 21 |
[Dec. 29th, 2011|09:13 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | christmas, doing, dreaming, famous people, high point, hoping, lives, new year, self, wishing, writing | ] |
| [ | Current Swing |
| |  accomplished | ] |
| [ | Current Groove |
| | Amanda Palmer- Vegimite | ] |
So I saw Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer in Melbourne today, pretty much out of the blue after hearing via a text that they were holding a "ninja gig," at the City Library. And it was nice - I was humbled by the entire experience.
It wasn't just because the whole thing was free, or the fact that I was seeing one of my favourite authors, it was more that the content delivered, while on the one hand could be seen as something purely commercial, was deeply from the heart. Not sentimental, nor soppy, it just had something that rang true for the authors.
And as an anonymous face in a crowd, who Neil or Amanda had no need to share anything with, I was surprised by how much they gave.
So with that it was a humbling end to the year... well so far, I've still got two more days before I'm thrust into the New Year. <- This lacklustre sentence is the product of me finally "relaxing" (which if you're harsh, you can construe as being lazy) and sleeping for 9-12 hours straight every day since Christmas. For this bodily collapse/recovery I have no excuse, beyond that of it's been a busy year.
*As I write this I roll my head from one arm to another shutting my eyes whilst listening to whatever youtube offers me of Amanda Palmer. It is still bright, I've just eaten a dinner of chicken strips and soy sauce and the clothes are in the dryer of someone else's house (completely intentional)*
There have been moving in-s and 21sts and job hopping galore; future hunting, friend finding, love losing and excessive drinking, all in moderation; there's been loneliness, good times, hatred and sadness, but also friends, family and the occasional good book. I've watched TV shows, played computer games, given to charity and failed Jap; H1ed in Writing, reviewed for Buzzcuts and finally had something in Farrago; I've saved up enough money to spend 2 weeks wherever and finished writing a journal that nobody will read; I've cooked and cleaned and done the washing more than once, spent nights out, in and in-between beds I've become more fit, blind and tired with each passing day. And at the end of it all I still don't know what to say (what an awful rhyme).
Should I be proud of the things I've done, to say that here is a man in charge of his destiny and fate who has it all under control, or is it the wiser and the more helpful to point out that I've still not made it yet - there was no graduation, no publishing deal, no freelance job, no getting the girl, or collecting 200$ - the world is very much the same as it was when you started the year. <- Not intended to get me down but to put things in perspective (helpful though? I'm unsure).
So to lament, or celebrate? To do in merriment or to double guess?
For sake of mind I know what I'll pick, but this does not mean the other option is incorrect...
Just a little harsher in the scheme of things.
I had a good Christmas; it felt a little hollow probably because I didn't go to church. That might come out as being overly fanatical but there's comfort in having a celebration focused on the idea that there's a hope, an age, a newness that's coming and it's going to be irrefutably good. If you don't have that then it's just a celebration of gluttony and extravagance that seems entirely self serving - something which doesn't feel right at all.
And that's all from the Man who thought too much.
Dan/Yoddeuss/Me |
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| Holiday habits |
[Dec. 19th, 2011|12:55 am] |
The magpie sat on the wire fence that encircled the oval. The exercise group didn't take notice of him at all, after all what is one bird in a park? Nothing but scenery to rest your eyes to while their bodies burn energy.The bird, he, with ragged black and white feathers, almost threadbare in places, kept a steady eye at them.
"Soon," the magpie shrilled to itself, "soon things would change."
##############
Something that I really should work on more (as if I'd say anything else).
Anyhoo, Christmas, work, holidays, roommate, friends and fallout from Jap.
In all pretty good, taken apart some bad, but mostly good.
Am seeing friends more (Good) -> spreading myself a bit thin (bad)
Am buying presents for family -> also spending on friends and being generally generous
Relaxing -> Not working
It's like a really boring tennis match (especially when the commentator doesn't feel like elaborating in the details). Life's good, but I'm jumping all over the place with my reaction to the results.
Really I should just take it easy.
Anyhow there's the gist of my life so far, Christmas is soon, I will be brief, fun times are to be had, elaboration an extravagance at midnight.
Night,
Daniel |
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| Well results are out ..... |
[Dec. 3rd, 2011|08:01 am] |
| [ | Tags | | | acceptance, blameless, check your spelling sometime, exam, happy, hungry, i failed a what?!, jap, justification, marks, tears, this icon is funny, time goblin, tired, truth, work ethic | ] |
| [ | Current Swing |
| |  I'm very dissapointed in you:p | ] |
| [ | Current Groove |
| | If dramatic, Adagio for Strings, but really it's Jackson 5 - blame boogie | ] |
And well there's the good and the bad, or ugly if you're so inclined, instead of just the good.
I received the mark of 47 for Japanese 4b which is just 3% off what I needed for a pass. So I'm a little bit fumed at myself, the world and all the stupid realities of not being good at something you put work into.
To be fair, or rather cruel to myself, I could've done more. I could've torn the moon down and given it to myself on a plate, forsaken work, play conversation and sunlight in order to get that 3%. I could've put in harder during my two week break and done well on that grammar test. I could've, should've, would've, in all honestly all of these things.
But in the end I didn't, I spent my two weeks before the exam doing at least 2 hours every day, reading, writing, saying them aloud. And it all did not take, it merely withered and died to fall in a heap of "almost but not quite." Not really fitting for a subject I put a lot of time into.
I also worked a fair bit, and played some computer games (that's where you can wag your fingers), but to be honest the study/work/play divide was pretty evenly divided, with a preference for Japanese.
So I'm upset, grumpy and annoyed, not least of all disappointed (especially with congratulatory Facebook messages running through the air thick as flies, so maybe jealous as well). I know I shouldn't compare myself with other people, or make assumptions on the length of their work, and etc, so I won't, I'll leave the spotlight firmly on myself.
I put in, it didn't pay off I'm annoyed.
And yet funnily enough I'm at peace with my own efforts towards the subject, as I know I will never do exemplary at it. That is unless I go crazy with study, avoiding all else, but I saw how that ended up in year 12 and the payoff was not that great for the amount of work I put in.
All I want is to finish my fumbling with Japanese at university, and pursue it at my own at my own limping pace.
The consequences are being dealt with; I'm seeing if there's any supplementary exams or assessment that I can take in order to get that tiny 3%, via the electronic marvel of email to my lecturer.
So I'll have to wait for a reply to know how the rest of my diploma of languages crumbles. I really do not want to repeat an entire semester just because of that tiny 3%, but if it has to be done, then let it be so :/ <-I say this with as much enthusiasm as a jaded Patrick Stewart would say 10 years into the future - enthusiasm is not the key here.
The good (If you've managed to stay with me throughout my japanese whining), is that I aced Autobiography and Biography, as well as Ethical Theory (both of which I spent significantly less time on but that's more whining that we're finished with), and managed to get through my other Japanese subject comfortably.
So in all of that I'm over the moon :D especially with Autobiography and Ethical Theory, as they're improvements upon what are already pretty decent marks. I'll put up a fragment here someother time.
So good, bad, not really that ugly (depending on what happens with my supplementary assessment). I want to finish jap and be done with it, then I can keep doing it for fun :p, instead of torturing myself at university.
Dan/Yoddeuss/Funamakemono-fuatamagaii/myself the honest I
P.S: Autobiography ironically is where I wrote about "not being able to speak Japanese properly." |
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| Pet Peeves.....but Exams are over so... disgruntled? gruntledly happy? |
[Dec. 1st, 2011|02:53 am] |
Knowledged being used as a tool to make others feel inferior, or less than comfortable with themselves. Instead of being something to be learned it is thought more so as a source of shame. Which in turn leads to despising other's knowledge as mere insults of your own ignorance, rather than something to learn.
Coming home after work to only have your roommate sit on his(or her I suppose) arse all day not doing anything while you clean and cook, even though you just got home.
Having people turn your attempts at conversation something in which to constantly critique instead of something to work upon. Basically criticing for the sake of looking good.
These are the things that plague my mind with negativity and despair. They do not overtly cause harm or lifelong hardship, but they do represent a growing rash within my relationships with others and my own penchant for non aggression.It feels a very moody position.
Yet not all should be gloom and doom. There should (there it is again that illusive word) be some good and there is. Exams are over, work is good,money is raked in, writing (as self evidenced here) is flowering.
And That's all I think a 2am writing stint (especially when tipsy) can do.
Night,
Dan |
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yoddeuss's journal
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