A small observation I have found about my heart.
04/21/2003 10:24 p.m.
Sometimes....

I think I love too strongly, too quickly. Feverishly.Silent.Painlessagony.

And its never anyone in particular either, just ideas of people. Half-ghosts. Tremulous and shivering and beautiful, frail.

Odd that. I won't probe that line of thought for now. I'll let it simmer in my mind for a while and then bring it back out to light.



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I am here. I promise
04/07/2003 05:28 p.m.
I'm currently buried under a large pile of work though. I will post something soon and comment on some other people's stuff soon. Yes.

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Buying yet another blank canvas.
03/24/2003 06:13 p.m.
Occasionally
harmful categorization
'blocks' the poetry.
filter it out
help people find your poetry.


-------------------------------------------

Random paragraph searching. Don't mind me. Stringing words together may not make for excellent poetry but it passes the time.
I am currently Bleh
I am listening to Nas ne Dagonjat (try working that one out ;op)

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Seeing as absolutely NO ONE decided to use it
03/19/2003 10:00 p.m.
I thought I'd fly the national colours and be all patriotic like. Rule britannia, marmalade and jam...
I am currently Proud
I am listening to National anthem. Or not...

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{half-formed ghost}
03/17/2003 03:02 p.m.
Photography projects are very time consuming. They leave little room for anything else. I will add to this entry soon but right now I have to continue sticking stuff in and criticising my snaps.
I am currently Creative
I am listening to the printer humming

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The older she gets the more she awakes with someone's face......
03/16/2003 01:23 a.m.
Strewn in her head. Like petals which once made a flower.

Hmmm, I like Carol Ann Duffy, she sometimes comes off as a feminazi rather than your usual likeable femenist but some of her more personal poetry is really touching.

I can't sleep, too many images buzzing about in my head. I can't quite get them out or express them either, half-ghosts that they are. Times like this when you have so much inspiration and you can't pick up pen or paintbrush are really evil.

Instead, I shall light candles and sing to the raindrops which are threatening to rattle my window panes. Too sleepy to spell, to awake to really leave it at that. I have red pastel smudges under my eyes from fatigue, milk white cheeks and straw bale hair from some distant nightmare I was having fifteen minutes ago. Not that any of this is making sense.

Lala la la, la. See? No, I didn't think so. This is weird. Like being intoxicated on air, everything slow and soft, vibrating and pulsating but still thin enough to breath, just about. I'm not making sense. I think I shall go back to bed and listen to the trees outside. Windsong. Rainwalker. Sleep spinner.
I am currently Tired
I am listening to Alanis Morisette playing in my mind.

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I seem to be having photo difficulties....
03/12/2003 06:14 p.m.
But then that doesn't suprise me - I'm not the most techy-minded out of the millions of people on the planet.

Before I continue I think I had better make it clear that within the next few days I'm likely to make a complete fool of myself on so many occasions it will be unbelievable. But never mind, call it entertainment and be done with it :)

Hmmm.... Anyway, hello.
I am currently Quiet
I am listening to Our Lady Peace

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