Showing posts from 2015

Dear Nobody,

Believe me when I say I have been writing. I have – on random pieces of paper, on my laptop, in my notebook, on the back of receipts and chewing-gum packets. I look at the writing, but it’s garbled. Some dreams, snippets of thoughts, the beginning of a story; mostly vomit. 
Vomiting on paper helps my bad nerves. On days when I don’t purge, I can feel the demons shape-shifting inside me, brewing these bubbling fears that come gargling up and block my throat. Those are the dark days that I can’t bring myself to sit down at my desk, or meditate, or even put a normal string of thoughts together. Like a broken radio I get all this deafening interference that clouds my mind and makes me anxious. I try to sleep it away but it sneaks up on me in my dreams, and I run run run away from the wild animals, and the knife-wielding shadows, and the monsters, but still it catches up with me and I stay up at night, sweating and staring at the ceiling. 
So I try to write, I try to walk, I try to sleep,…

Nov 8, 2015

These past few days, weeks, years have culminated in a matter of life and death for me.
Either I love and accept myself, or I kill myself.
Before you gasp in horror, physical death in not the only one there is, though it is a real possibility and an option at the end of the day. No, I know a good few people who are alive, but have let themselves die – kind of spiritual zombies in a way. Ultimately, there is only one real dilemma in life, and only two real roads forking out from the present moment. These are not the choice between Oxford or Cambridge, a 2,000 or 3,000 dollar salary, marriage or the spoils of a single life, family or career (these were, in my circles, the discussions). Though legitimate on a day to day basis, once you draw the curtains to the backstage of existence, you encounter the real quandary: Do I understand who I really am and really accept it and even embrace it in loving kindness, or do I let myself die?
Yes, it may sound melodramatic, but no I don’t care. The …

The end of me

Like the final flap of the wounded duck before it crashes
the words leave my mouth on a desperate flight:
I love you.

I know it's true, the cactus bloom told me before the morning,
before the moths inhaled its wilting veils with an orphan cry:
I do! 

And when I joined their swirl around the sun, surrendering my wings
to a sweet and painful singe, a searing sound:
Again, again, again.

At last I stitched my burning body with a pearl head pin
onto the rising moon,
up from the smoke my heart exhales:

The Quiet People

Don't forget about the quiet people.
Though they may never tell you, your music has changed their existence. There in the audience, among hundreds of pairs of eyes looking back at you, they were the ones who saw you peeling your soul on stage. At the end of the gig, while the crowds formed lines in the lobby to meet you, they were the ones rushing out of the concert hall and into the night. Look for them in the quiet spaces between your notes; their tears fall to the floor like broken pearls. 
Do not forget the quiet people. When they sat next to you on the bus, they noticed you. They wondered about you. They searched in your eyes for your life story, unique and frayed and trembling at your lips like a hand-rolled cigarette, but they were too scared or quiet to ask. When the doors opened and the windy city sucked you out, their hearts grew larger to fill the vacuum, and they turned to their pensive reflection on the window.
Please, don't forget the quiet people. Your words ha…

Discovering the fourth dimension

I haven't written for a while. In the meantime, I have had so many thoughts, and come to so many realisations, and I have made so many conclusions, only to have those conclusions undone and re-worked to form so many new ones, that I can't remember where I left off with this blog or what I was trying to say. I've been like a cloud that constantly shifts in form, breaking off in cloudlets and melding into bigger ones - now a laughing giant with a scarf around his neck, now a scornful pig face, now a running wizard with a very pointy hat- until it disappears like swirling smoke into the vast blue sky. I have felt loneliness, fear, despair, peace, joy, anger, sadness, gratitude, pain and anxiety, all in a matter of months and often all at the same time, and like Alice I have felt myself shrink to the size of a pinhead or grow to the size of the Petronas Towers; sometimes the house seemed so vast and frightening I thought my boat would sink under the massive waves of the ocean…