Sunday, 28 September 2014

but then again...

You could have killed me ten times over with some to spare.

Thursday, 18 September 2014

ten words (then words)

"Don't ever leave me", I said. And then I left.

Wednesday, 17 September 2014

Kippers ahoy!

While chopping black pudding this morning I remembered the breakfast of kippers you made me once upon a time (astoundingly, you got out of bed before I did - I should have known there was something afoot). 

my people

... lying on the sofa with you two, chatting and listening to Different Class. I never thought that it would get better, but it has. The difference between then and now couldn't have been greater.

I forgot my rucksack. Waiting for you two at the station I was anxious that you'd be mad. But you weren't, of course. Like Julian, you smile and laugh at me for being a numpty. I saw you sauntering down the street in your matching hoodies and was overwhelmed by a sense of love and pride. My wonderful friends.

On the way to the airport I listened to you describe someone as "broken." Then I wondered if you'd say the same of me behind my back. Then I realized that you wouldn't, because I am not. It's not the face I present to the world because it is not the greater part of who I am. I am strong.

It's a strange sensation, thinking positive thoughts. But I like it when they come to me unbidden and true.

Wednesday, 10 September 2014


一個人可以當兩個人用。I need to keep myself in line.

Monday, 8 September 2014

What do you need...

to convince you that this is what you should do? How can anything be more vital if you've been given a piece of the puzzle.


就這樣自己與自己的距離越來越遠,見不得人的那面更加的見不得人。這個故事的過去與現在中間斷了那一部份。不說並不會更簡單。我需要的是拉拉隊,不是訓導主任,because I have fear and pressure aplenty.

One part of me wants to accept it as well meaning. One part of me wants to shout「廢話」in your face. I mean, no shit, Sherlock. You think I haven't come up with that already in the last, oh, 17 years?

What I need to is to be convinced by the evidence and not by my fears.

Tuesday, 2 September 2014

take note

To make this condiment, your poet begs
The pounded yellow of two hard-boiled eggs;
Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen sieve,
Smoothness and softness to the salad give.
Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl,
And, half suspected, animate the whole.
Of mordant mustard add a single spoon,
Distrust the condiment that bites so soon;
But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault,
To add a double quantity of salt.
Four times the spoon with oil from Lucca brown,
And twice with vinegar procured from town;
And, lastly, o'er the flavored compound toss
A magic soupcion of anchovy sauce.
O, green and glorious! O herbaceous treat!
'T would tempt the dying anchorite to eat:
Back to the world he'd turn his fleeting soul,
And plunge his fingers in the salad bowl!
Serenely full, the epicure would say,
"Fate cannot harm me, I have dined to-day."

– Sidney Smith, "Recipe for a Salad"

Knocked the wind out of me

... this.

the hard season
split you through.
do not worry.
you will bleed water.
do not worry.
this is grief.
your face will fall out and down your skin
there will be scorching.
but do not worry.
keep speaking the years from their hiding places.
keep coughing up smoke from all the deaths you have
keep the rage tender.
because the soft season will come.
it will come.
both hands in your chest.
up all night.
up all of the nights.
to drink all damage into love.
- nayyirah waheed, 'therapy'