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Tuesday, 27 November 2012

The question is

... can you step out of yourself? Move one square back from the front line of stress and the bombardment of shit hitting the fan in every direction.

So it's not perfect.

So you forgot.

So you could have done something different, something better.

So. What? (那.又.怎.麼.樣)

There's a wall papered in floral pattern between me and the feelings I will choose not to feel. The desires and demands that I will choose not to have. Today I will choose who I want to be, the emotions I want to have.

Monday, 19 November 2012

And then, quite unexpectedly...



I walk straight into happiness
(much like how I once felt many years ago).

Monday, 12 November 2012

Go forth...

utterly devoid of fear and trepidation. (It took finding you to make you realize what I've been missing).

Sunday, 11 November 2012

Ich werde dich verschlingen mit Haut und Haar

Ulla Hahn/ Mit Haut und Haar (1981)
Ich zog dich aus der Senke deiner Jahre
und tauchte dich in meinen Sommer ein
ich leckte dir die Hand und Haut und Haare
und schwor dir ewig mein und dein zu sein.

Du wendetest mich um. Du branntest mir dein Zeichen
mit sanftem Feuer in das dünne Fell.
Da ließ ich von mir ab. Und schnell
begann ich vor mir selbst zurückzuweichen

und meinem Schwur. Anfangs blieb noch Erinnern
ein schöner Überrest der nach mir rief.
Da aber war ich schon in deinem Innern
vor mir verborgen. Du verbargst mich tief

Bis ich ganz in dir aufgegangen war:
da spucktest du mich aus mit Haut und Haar.

Wednesday, 7 November 2012

For you and me


because everyone needs reminding sometimes. 

Tuesday, 6 November 2012

Worth repeating (for you)

Good morning, Tuesday. It's important to separate the problems you have from who/what you are. You are Tuesday, crisp with the promise of autumn. No amount of detours could diminish my love for you.


Trippers and askers surround me, 
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and 
city I live in, or the nation, 
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new, 
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues, 
The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love, 
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss 
or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations, 
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, 
the fitful events; 
These come to me days and nights and go from me again, 
But they are not the Me myself. 

Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, 
Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, 
Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, 
Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, 
Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it. 

Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with 
linguists and contenders, 
I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.

-Walt Whitman, 'Song of Myself' 

Thursday, 1 November 2012

Don't let go

... of your certainties. and don't lose your composure.

be strong always in the way you imagine yourself until you don't even have to try any more.

then you will walk out that door the same person as when you walked in.