play list

+ NY is killing me - Gil Scott-Heron (Jamie XX mix)

+ Marvin's room - Drake
__i dislike most of what he's saying, but he's spot on in catching the vibe

+ Carry me away - Chris Lake feat Emma Hewitt (original club mix)

+ Jimmy - Moriarty
__music vid is pretty neato

+ Titanium - David Guetta feat Sia
__can't help it.

thoughts (fragments)

a good way of making life awesome-r is to wear ridiculous socks. (see photo for evidence).


THINGS I KNOW AM THINKING MIGHT BE SURE OF CAN'T DECIDE AM PREOCCUPIED WITH, A SUNDAY LIST:

(1) life is a two-player sport.
i suppose it's easy to get a bit existential/overly-thoughtful when all your friends are having babies. but, it's just a personal truth i've arrived at. consider the following:
- two people can get a hotel and share a bed, a solo person sleeps in a hostel
- duos laugh more frequently - so life is more fun
- being with another person is irritating so you get to practise being patient more often, making you a more gentle, thoughtful and open-minded person.
- having a special friend means you regularly have to care for them. which means you're human more often.

my point? it's not that i think cuddles, humour/fun, gentleness and humanity are important. i'm saying they're basically the only important things.


(2) no spirituality no pivot. no pivot --> undefined unhappiness.
it's just been made really clear to me recently. when i'm disconnected from my sense of spirituality, and my practice of spiritual... 'stuff', i get unhappy. fast. and then everything is kinda not-so-good, for no apparent reason.

and when i say spirituality i mean something quite counter-intuitive actually. i believe in the Bahai Faith, which means i believe that you kinda have to do something to make the world a better place. of course i understand spirituality to be something that centres me, and makes me feel peaceful and at one with myself. but the fastest and most effective way of strengthening my spirituality (my connection to myself) is to do things for other people. ie, the fastest way to being happy is to forget myself and work on what i can contribute to other peoples' happinesses.

so that's one of my current think-projects. moving forward in life, in a life where i expect to spend more of every day working, how can i find avenues to contribute to other peoples' happinesses in a substantial and meaningful way? and regularly. it's not a problem, it's just a logistical calibration that needs to happen in how i approach my spirituality as 'an adult' <-- ew.


(3) when i'm single i rediscover my masculinity. (or at least one aspect of it.)
it's no secret: men behave differently in relationships then when they are courting you. it's okay, to attract a woman, we have to demonstrate certain elements of our character - things to get you to like us. then, once you do like us, we need to exercise the qualities necessary to maintain a relationship and care for a person. those things aren't mutually exclusive, they're just different. (and when men forget about the courting-version of themselves - who happens to be more playful, teases you all the time, is challenging and difficult to pin-down, does spontaneous crazy things (which women often interpret as danger, romance or fun), creates sexual tension, is more attentive to his appearance - women start complaining about how "where is the man i met 20 years ago? where'd he go? when did you get so... so... boring!")

ok. so i'm un-boring-fying myself. which happens naturally actually. certain things i might find inappropriate to say if i was in a relationship, i can say quite easily:

___- anything look good at the movies?
___- yes: you will. tomorrow night. 7/8ish.

all of which is quite fun. being more assertive than i usually am. pushing every situation/moment/conversation to its climax - which is terrifying. walking across a room more frequently to introduce myself to anyeveryone. being fit enough find myself undressed anytime any place and be able to stand proud.

(of course there's a... counterweight to this. because after the smart-talk, and the overly-brave-touchy-feely on the dance-floor, and the exaggerated gazing into pretty girl's eyes, the mildly disappointing first kisses, you're left sitting at a table with a bunch of people at 4:35am thinking: gee i miss XYZ / gee i wish ABC were here instead / gee i'd rather have stayed home tonight and watched LMN paint her toe-nails).


(4) where?
where do i want to be?
how will i get there?
what will i do there?

over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and.

words to describe ...

your face is up against mine
and i'm too terrified to speak
__epilogue, the Antlers














untitled by kagogo


__________(rain)

________/ // // / // //
________// // / / _/ //
_________/ // // / //
________/_// / / // /
__________/ / _//

__________*
__________[
__________|


__________(snow falling on a tree)

__________* ____*
__________ *__*

____________*
__
___________ _ *

__________\\ __//
_________ \___/_
____________||
____________||


__________(everything else)



____????







___

the Hague at 6:07am

talk to me please,
i don't have much to believe in
__Drake










arinaceous seams by amber ortolano


__- it's too cold. damn it's too cold
__- it's cold
__- cold? no_ lady it's ccoolldd.
__- what's the diff -
__- there's a cab, c'mon.


___*___*___*

i expect to see the sun rising when i get home. it's pitch black, there's no sun anywhere. (6:07). disappointed.__ it's soo misty i can't see anything out of my window except for orbs of colour where the streetlights below are. it's an alternate, miniature solar system.


___*___*___*

i've decided this has to be the weekend of my life, because if it's not, i'm through. done. i'm not sure with what, but it will have repercussions. with that in mind, i don't ask myself whether i actually like the song(s). or whether i look stupid. or whether i even know the people i'm with.


___*___*___*

halfway through dinner she says you don't know what zouk is? and i say i don't. she claims i couldn't handle it, and she's probably right, but i inform her if it involves the hips i probably invented it. this is a complete lie. she doesn't flinch, she's standing up in the hall. i'm up right behind her. (the fish on our plates feels neglected) (but the other guests are amused). even the host doesn't mind the interruption to her perfectly civilized dinner with the two idiots grinding their hips into each other with their knees locked together in the hallway no, your hand has to go here, you have to make it hottt she says, i could make it hotter if my hand could move i tell her. she gives me a cheeky look - take it easy tiger. baby steps.


___*___*___*

in the midst of laughing, he tries to kiss her playfully. she laughs and pulls back, and since she's being hugged on either side, she ends up leaning towards me. so i put my lips where my money should be and try my luck and end up somewhere between cheek and lip. to my surprise, and hers, he ends up on the other side. is this actually happeni -

the whole thing evaporates somehow.

i hear a group of people laugh and somehow recognize my voice amongst it. he looks at me and shakes his head. i'm not sure what to make of all this, but i stand besides my laugh and wait to see what happens next. someone from the other side of the room shouts out naughty!. i'm not sure who to.


___*___*___*

my unhappiness i've done my best to hide. no one seems to notice anything.

__- you disappeared again last week.
__- i did?
__- yes.
__- maybe.
__- you did.
__- ___yes. _i did.
__- what do you do when you disappear?
__- prepare myself mentally, physically and spiritually for the next time i'm going to see you.
__- seriously though
__- i take the preparation very seriously.
__- seriously, what do you do when you disappear?

i want to tell her it's exhausting. that i spend it trying to cram my unhappinesses into a box. and then sit on the box waiting for the din of its contents to shush. it's like holding your foot while it cramps, knowing it'll end but still hurting the whole time. i want to tell her that, but no one wants to listen to talk about undefined unhappiness. not even me.

__- truth is i'm a superhero. sometimes, there are cats in trees i need to save. sometimes there are super-villains.
__- you're crazy.
__- on that point, you're quite right.
__- you're mysterious you know that.
__- what? how so?
__- you just are. you're a mystery. no one here knows you. everyone knows you, but no one knows you.
__- no one knows you either. no one knows anyone. we haven't been here long enough for that.
__- that's not true. everyone knows everyone by now. we've all worked each other out and we know what we're dealing with and who we like and who is interested in what. __except you.
__- i wear a tight lycra suit when i am being a superhero.
__- of course you do.


___*___*___*

there's only 5 of us out now. it's a dream-team of psychos.


___*___*___*

this place closes at 5, so it's full of the most eager partygoers, the freaks and anybody else who'd rather not be asleep at this hour. a 40-year-old man in a partially unbuttoned shirt tries 'the robot' with his eyes closed. if i didn't know better i'd say he's tripping. there's a guy from our first bar, where he sat on a stool against the wall staring off into space. i recognize him from his deerhunter hat, but the stare is gone. he jumps around wildly and his eyes are electric. he puts his arm around me and we can-can for half a song, and spend the other half trying to make up our own hi-five. at this point i'm sure he's tripping.


___*___*___*

we'd tried the zouk a few times over the last 4.5 hours in approximately 3 bars. there'd been something in the air this last half-hour, which i couldn't quite place, other than i sensed a heaviness. a delicious tension.

i'd spent the whole evening pretending i loved every song, that i was lost somewhere outside of myself, completely unconscious of myself.

i come up and place my forehead on hers. she's shorter than me so this works. usually i hold it there and stare into her eyes and then move off. it's a tease i suppose. this time i take the opposite approach and move in. put an arm behind her and slide my body between her legs. my eyes are closed so i can sense her more intimately , respond to her movements and pace. my hand holds her back with a firm grip. __it's a grinding motion but our bodies also move in a circle. it's like gyrating and spinning at the same time. with my eyes closed it feels like a two-star dance. in a few minutes i'll be too dizzy to consider stopping. at first... i'm overcome with a tingle and i worry. it commenced with some intensity, more than i had anticipated and i feel a dull erection. i worry she's going to freak, but perhaps she finds it complimentary because she doesn't pull away. in fact, she pushes in harder. when i was 17, the first time i lay atop a girl, clothed but discovering this movement for the first time - that was the last time i felt such a thrill. now i can do it standing. turning.

i prove to her it can be hotter if my hands move. one is on the back of her thigh, under her butt, holding her up so she doesn't fall when she occasionally leans back. the other runs through her hair, down the side of her face, neck, chest, scraping the side of her breast down her side and then onto her back and thrusts her back into me. my face is in her neck, smelling, kissing, biting and breathing her in and back out. hers does the same, a gorgeous installation made of two wrapped figures. the lips resume their wandering and i sense spasms in her. it's hard to summarize it in words. i'm sure it lasted 8 or 9 minutes. building. i wonder what she's going to do with her lips. despite the tension and the charge in the situation, she's behaved herself thus far. there's an inherent danger in this, she has a boyfriend i know, and i wonder if even she anticipated where this has gotten to. i want to let her go, but i notice she move back. she's too involved, i sense she doesn't want it to end. i persist a few moments more, but i release her. more for her sake than mine. i'm confirmed in this when i see her face. she's terrified. i've seen this look before. women are always terrified when they've been seduced, or romanced. women are always terrified when they realise what almost just did could've should've wanted-to has happened. the feeling of 'losing control' is so powerful in women, terrifyingly powerful. she stares at me in shocked awe of what just happened, how the moment came to exist. and in fear of where it wanted to go. the gravity of it leading to a clearly-defined point that we managed to thwart. ___a 10 minute universe.

i give her a cheeky smile to welcome her back into the otherwise-ordinary-here-we-are-stuck world. for the next 30 minutes she'll keep looking at me questioningly. it will eventually make me uncomfortable and i'll go to the bathroom for no reason other than to wait it out, and stand around. and wash my face. and return hoping that that will do the trick.


___*___*___*

__- it's too cold. damn it's too cold
__- it's cold
__- cold? no_ lady it's ccoolldd.
__- what's the diff -
__- there's a cab, c'mon.

the hague at 2:37am

___may my mind stroll about hungry
___and fearless and thirsty and supple
___and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
___for whenever men are right they are not young

_________ee cummings









saturday afternoon iphotography by me


THINGS - AN I-CAN'T-SLEEP-LIST:

(1) i have found the perfect musical representation of a panic attack / ADD-freakout-what-the-eff-am-i-doing-where-how-what-here-is-this. also it's the highlight of my day. it's 2am, so clearly i mean the highlight of my yesterday, which is still technically attached to my today because i haven't slept yet and so it's just one long freaking won't-ever-end-ness-es thing.

modeselektor & thom yorke - shipwreck <-- click on that to lose your mind.


(2) also on the listening-menu:

__+ the jezebels - dark storm ep
__+ atlas sound - parallax (parallax is my favourite word. so i'm glad the album is actually awesome) (otherwise i'd be upset) (and no one would care and i'd have no one to tell). (thankfully this sad fate has been avoided)
__+ massive attack vs burial - four walls <-- if you have an eargasm listening to that then email me, we're going to be friends.


(3) my list of current interests includes:
- my BMI
- carrot-fit trousers. preferably in wool.
- whether or not to grow a beard. (i'm thinking something like this.) (this one takes up lots of my mental time at the moment)
- yes i did include my body-mass-index on my current interests list.
- why i plan every night to come straight home from work (via a 2 hour gym session) and pray and still somehow manage to evade it even though it's actually the . only . thing i feel like i want to do.
- missing my dad.
- planning on how to escape every single where except for NY. (unless Oxford decides to accept me in the next year or two). (if i decide to apply).
- whether my war criminal will be acquitted or not.


(4) yes i can't sleep. that's obvious. it's not new. it's unexplained. i took a pill last night i don't want to take one tonight because then that would be similar to taking one every night and that's not cool.


(5) say what you will, agree or disagree, you gotta admit the red queen looks like a fascinating read. if i (a) could be bothered to turn on the lights and find my wallet and type out the little numbers and (b) could reconcile how i intend to persuade Qantas to let me take all the extra weight back onto the plane, i'd be ordering it right now.


(6) i use path. i love path. it's like my BFF social-connectivity-thingamajigee right now.


(7) i think it's important to have chocolate chips in my (otherwise rabbit-food) muesli breakfast cereal. waking up to a perfectly nutritious breakfast somehow induces... well it makes me despondent.


(8) it is imperative that i enjoy my weekend. really, i can't stress this point enough. if i have a bad saturday it will be the end of q-as-we-know-him. with this in mind, i'm trying to decide whether to go on a day-trip with others, or just pick a place and gallivant solo-dolo. i'm thinking the latter. additionally it means i can shop. for some reason shopping (and optimizing my BMI) seem to be the only things that make me happy this month.


(9) when people realize that i'm not going home to Aus. for christmas they give me this sad face like it's the end of the world. i don't understand this. i don't like christmas, and australia is 3 days travel from here. plus i still kinda hope it's going to snow lots and lots and i'm going to go get lost and pretend it's in a cloud and fall in love with a tree and kiss its trunk silently and never be seen ever again THE END.


(10) tthhiiss is actually the same recording of Bach's tocatta and fugue in d minor i used to listen to as a kid. it only took 25 years to find it again. (and of course it's Karl Richter <-- which probably means nothing to anyone, but if ever there was Big Pimpin to be had on a pipe-organ this is tha dude that would be doing it)


(11) 3:04 a m .


(12) i'm gonna try sleep. part III now.

the Hague at 4am

untitled by coolhandluke


maybe you're just lonely she says. maybe she's right. maybe you're right mom, who knows. there isn't an explanation for it, but there's never been an explanation. 'the wave'. that's what we call it in my family: the wave. (is there a wave coming? / has the wave hit? / sorry i'm late, i can't move, i've been stuck under this wave for days)


___*___*___*

she lets me pick the music. she wants gravity repeated. that's not fair i say, these songs don't mean anything to you, i'm the one that has to take a beating when we listen to them.
- what beating?
- a beating.
- from what?
- from history.
- qua?
- my past. my history. i've been carrying these songs with me a long time.
ah. __i see she says.

she starts to describe silentuim (excerpt). in the abstract. completely novel. i smile , silently . sadly , looking at the ceiling. __where are you? she wants to know. 2008, it's... impenetrably dark. 2010, driving a friend back from the train station, she's asleep on my shoulder. ___israel. __brisbane, __staring at four white walls trying to find a window... hell. ___we listen for a minute more, then i add: heaven.


___*___*___*

just make sure you contact me every few days, you understand? i say i do. don't disappear again for two weeks with no word. and if you're feeling... ya know, then you call me okay? i nod into the phone. okayyy? she stresses. yes mom yes mom, of course it makes me feel better just to hear her say these things. good boy she concludes.


___*___*___*

i'd gotten the hint that nothing was going to happen. maybe i was relieved. i listened to the music and was happy in my world and she wrapped me around herself and was happy in hers. the next tune came on, i turned onto my back and she, two-thirds-asleep already, followed her head onto my chest.

if i had to relive the memories in the music, it felt appropriate to relive the memories in my body too. ___i ran my hand through her hair. __my fingers across her cheek. (song after song this is. an hour's worth, maybe more. who knows, it was already that indeterminable time of night. __hand. __hair. __fingers. __cheek.

lost in my own reverie, i kissed her forehead. half hers. i'm certain half was hSara's. __half was oMna's. god knows who else. ___it was so slow, __so perfect.
a minute later , __another.
_____another.

another.

i felt a shudder.

________a minute later , __another.
_____________another.

________another.

little spasms. barely sensible.

for my part, i felt so still. so perfectly, fossil-still.

________________a minute later , __another.
_____________________another.

________________another.


when it happened it was(not) a surprise.

it was just there. a noisy shadow amongst us, within us. between us.


___*___*___*

i've never seen a place so abandoned. the whole way home there isn't a single moving thing. i hear the traffic light change colours. it's loud enough to startle me. anyway i don't stop, there's no need.
i think the wind might be questioning me.


___*___*___*

she's so strange to touch. i'm accustomed to softer women. she... feels like me. i get the strange sensation i am touching a mirror image of my own body. i wonder if she feels the same , i'm not too distracted to ask, but i don't pursue it.


___*___*___*

it's nearly dawn , i lie in bed rubbing my cheeks. trying to decide what to do with my beard. it's past drug-addict-chic. now it just looks... feral. my hair's long too i look like a mountain lion. or a hezbollah operative. maybe i should shave ;

i wonder if it's too soon. __(if it was too soon)

if i'm suddenly younger or older.
if i can suddenly be made younger or older.


___*___*___*

how would you like me? _this makes me smile. _she knows this smile, it's the awkward translation smile. qua? she's confused, she's not sure what she got wrong. _wrapped in a ribbon i finally say. now she's really confused: no, what i mean was - i could - __my hands reach her and again , that noisy shadow


___*___*___*

are you lonely though? she repeats. i'm not sure. i don't feel lonely. but i'm never conscious of it, even when i am i don't know i am.
- what will you do?
- _... _nothing. _wake up. _go to work. _go to gym.
- sounds good.
- it is good.
- sounds good.
- it has to be. _there's no other option really.

__[we both know there is, but we pass over this in silence]

- you call your mother more regularly, you understand?
- yes.
- i'm not kidding.
- yes mama.


___*___*___*

- do you want to hold on to it?
- no no. i won't be around for a few days so take it with you
- okay _[so i grab my beanie from off her head. put it on my own and turn around to descend the stairs]
- hey, no hard feelings right? it's okay?
- [i'm not sure what she's referring to] quuaaa? [i'm mimicking her]
- stop teasing me!
- [descend a few more stairs]
- it's okay?
- c'est bien c'est bien _[descend a few more stairs] _let me know when you're around again
- of course. _good night
- bon soir [from the bottom of the stairs]

___*___*___*

at 7:30 my alarm sounds

the hague at 3am

untitled by xixi cao


we're supposed to leave but for whatever reason sit on a park bench. i won't lie, there's a cup-cake involved. midnight strolled by just recently. __a few minutes pass.
- i don't wanna get up.
- me neither.

- i don't wanna go home.
- me neither.


___*___*___*

the palace. i hear ducks in the water. the parkway is lined with alternating trees and lightposts.
the odd droplet of rain.
some words.


___*___*___*

when the streets are empty like this i ride my bike down the middle. a showing of sovereignty. an hour ago i had said but this is my world. quite literally, it's mine. it belongs to me and i love it. each and every part of it. she'd given an odd look. and half yours too then.

slice the street in half like an orange.

there's wind but i can't see it in the darkness.

at some point things were wet. there's an echo of wetness, the shadow of wetness lives everywhere, even without the rain.


___*___*___*

when i was 17 i'd met this girl. we were introduced through a mutual friend:
- q, this is eRgani, she likes cheeky trouble-makers.
- ieaRng, this is q, he likes blondes with big boobs.

we spent the whole night talking and kissing.
the sun found us walking by the beach, she collecting shells, me memories.


___*___*___*

leaves drip from the trees, heavy and wet and in the streetlight insincerely auburn. the bike paths and sidewalks are tucked away neatly under a blanket of them. i ride my bike as though over carpet or cloud. the trees opening up in front of me to reveal more blanketed forwardness. i pedal through. through, always through.


___*___*___*

i'd forgotten night has no other side. there is no tomorrow. it is a thing that is, a simple existence. unquestionable and unfathomable in its own honesty.


___*___*___*

she leaves at a large intersection. i go another way. unknown thing in unknowable night.
red brick buildings bundled together tightly. i pass a garbage truck. i ride in the middle on the wrong side of the road. the dotted line is my spine. my arrow.


___*___*___*

in the mirror my muscles quiver with tension and loneliness. the bumps feel hidden away, cast out. the striations of my shoulders, and the cuts in my abdomen call out to hands in the shadowed corners of the room. nothing wearing flesh lives there but me.

moments later i'm dressed , but loneliness is always naked. __always asking to be touched by fellow nakedness.

to lose water in water.
lips in lips.
bodies into bodies.


___*___*___*

it sits like liquid in a cup ,
unmoving pitiless wonder
dreamtime and lovetime:

what i know of it, it taught me itself.
grew into my bones.

there are only brave men now.

.

emotion: sad
reason: unspecified
physiological response: insomnia
soundtrack: laughing stock by talk talk and Into Clear EP by Glass Vaults
solution: undetermined