Thursday, May 30, 2013

My First Memory

What I'm about to share with you is something I have never ever ever told any one in the whole wide world ever. I'm being over-expressive because this is a really difficult experience to describe and the thought of it brings back all those feelings of dread and anguish. This is my first memory, the earliest thing I can remember and quite possibly the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Ever. 

I was somewhere between 2 and 3 years old, it was before my brother was born so it was just me and mum at home during the day. 

I was in the lounge room when I heard the rumbling rolling. The sound caught my heartbeat and sent it flying, faster and faster. The moaning started next, muffled cries of pain heralding what was coming. I could feel the vibrations through the floor and I slowly rode them to the corridor. From the bedroom, at the front of the house, a new image superimposed itself on the sunlight shining through the window and illuminating the green grass of the garden. What was it? Was it coming for me?

It was them, coming for me. 

It was a great wheel of metal and flesh. Naked, dirty bodies of men and women. I'd never seen anything like this before. They were tied to a giant wheel. The wheel of death. They were on a mission, sent by Hell or by Death, I don't know. I tore back to the lounge and threw myself into my father's chair. I curled up beneath the cushion of the seat and closed my eyes tight. I listened to the sound, the rumble ripped through the house and rolled through the glass doors, out into the backyard and away. 

I don't know why they came and went, or who for. Whatever it is has been with me ever since. In dreams that shaped me. Suffocated and defiant, yet scared and alone. Who could ever understand the fear of seeing Hell in the flesh at less than three years of age. 

I will always hope for the best but I will always fear you too. 


Sunday, May 5, 2013

Resonating pain

Pain resonating.
Resonating pain.

Different day, same shit.
Back to front.
In reverse.
Finding myself again.
At the pub.
Three drinks in.
Winning?
Nup, surely not.

I can't hear anything above the sound resonating from my sacrum.
The pain's tonality and timbre hold my skull in a vice-like grip.
The clamp winds itself tighter with every pounding beat of my heart.
In rhythm, save me, kill me.
Back and forth the melody weaves it's way like a serpent through the forest of synapses and flow of electrical currents.

Resonating pain.
Pain resonating.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Religion - Poem written September 2009

Have you looked at us 
From the outside? 
Have you seen it? 
The singing, the praying, the droning? 
Do you realise 
We are drones? 
Do you appreciate the blood, the body? 
Have you ever shed a tear for Him? 
Look! Hanging there! Pain! 
What do you think of the cannibalism? 
Or do you not? Because it is just wafer and wine? 
Feel the words? Do you know what you’re saying? 
Tell me! Recite the Apostles Creed, on your own, without the drones? 
You can’t do it, but He still loves you. 
Apparently, so they say. 
But I’ll love you, anyway, just the same, just as you are. 
Human.

What is the Opposite of a God complex - Poem written December 2009

Is it a Mother Nature complex?

I don't want the power
I don't want the fame
I don't want you to know me

I want to know you
without knowing you
Nurture you
Love you

But I don't want to belong to you
I don't want you to know you have
My unconditional love

It can't be seen anyway
It lives within a hard shell

I want you to grow 
and learn 
and live without me

It's mine to give and I'll give as I choose
Yeah it's some sort of complex...

Love/Life - Poem written February 2009

Since I know you 
My heart sings 
and my mind dances 
and dreams. 

With you I know 
Who I am and 
Who I can be. 

I'm awake and 
I breathe and 
I feel. 

My life is now 
A poem 
because 
I Love.

Where He Lives - Poem written August 2009

Well, somehow, 
He still resides within my soul 
Where he longer wants to be 
And the dust has settled 
No longer a lover 
No longer a friend 
He still resides within my soul...

Untitled non-fiction unusual love story

This is a story I started writing while waiting around in Melbourne Airport in February 2008. It's an idea. An ongoing project, trying to find the guts to take it from hopeless beginnings to hopeful endings.

Chapter 1

You know how people are born and then some of them feel like they were born in the wrong shell? Like a boy who's really a girl on the inside and they spend their whole life struggling to emit their true self on the outside. Some achieve it and I guess some don't. I think I'm one of those people. Except I'm not a girl trying to be a boy of a beaten down kid trying to show the world their true genius. I think I was born a dead soul trapped in a living shell, spending my whole life I'm trying to find a reason to resuscitate my self.

"Well why don't you top yourself?" It's something you might say. I'm not a violent person, I don't like the idea of tying a noose and hanging from the nearest tree, I only know three types of knots, or dragging razors across my wrist, not to say I haven't dragged razors anywhere. Who hasn't felt like physical pain is worth it, just to take away the emotions you aren't equipped to feel? Anyone seen Secretary? 

Besides that, the thing with being dead inside is that, one, you can't be bothered, and two, you don't want to put family and friends to all that trouble and expense. Let's try to look on the bright side here; there must be a way to ignite what's inside.

So this is my story so far, but what happens next? I don't know, how does one speak to their own soul, when the soul is the reason for speaking? Is there any point trying for a happy ending? What do I do?

I like driving on and on forever and always, road beneath tyres, rolling, passing by landscapes my feet will never touch, it's a way of peace and beauty and the destination, it's always good, doesn't matter who or what is at the end, it's always good, you're always welcome.

Monday to Friday...

Why did I spend all day inside a shithole for no thanks, no break?  Not one pay rise in three years while the cost of living increases.  While my mental and physical health deteriorates at a pace I can barely keep up with.  Why am I putting up with this shit?  And how do I manage to stay so damn nice to people when all I want to do is shake them until they fall apart or make some sort of sense!  Why the fuck?  I know why, it's because I'm weak and I settled for this bullshit life.  This isn't life, this is merely existing.  Existing from hand to mouth, day to day, dumb idea to the next dumb idea.  It's a bloody idiotic way to be and I am not a bloody idiot.  I know I am smarter and better than this shit I got myself into.

No point in ranting though, I seriously need to sort this out.  To work out a plan and stick to it.  But where is the big idea I want?  I am completely stifled by my own existence.  I am baffled and confused.  I can't the light but like the naive little girl I am, I have this ridiculous hope that things will turn out ok so what do I do?  BEGIN ALREADY!

My biggest burden are my finances and the biggest debt is my little flat.  A little flat in an area I love but where I am also subjected daily to how alone I feel without another soul, whether familiar or strange, to share with.  This is the mirror that shows me how extroverted I thought I wasn't.  Does this mean I need to sell this place and start again?  Financially not a very bright decision.  I mean, hey! once you're on the ladder, stay there.  But I'm starting to think it's not worth it.  I'd much rather rent with a bunch of loonies than stay here feeling suffocated by the shackles of debt.  

I really want to go to uni and finish a degree.  I really want to play music on a stage again.  I really want a meaningless part-time job where people are competing for clients and money and ruled by greed.  A place where I am not chained to a desk in order to serve the unethical, immoral purposes of others.  I'd rather be dead.  Really.

I could try to wait it out another few months and see if that job in Darwin is the real deal.  Past performance indicates no, it will be yet another empty promise from him and I'll remain trapped in this small concrete box.  Willing to make this place my coffin.  Fighting the urge to concede.

I can't stand the thought!