Wednesday, December 24

Wile. E. Coyote

Roadrunner has only been caught by Wile. E. Coyote once; on May 21, 1980.

Just thought you'd like to know.

What do you think?

If I asked you what you thought how would you answer?
Forget all context. Context may be king but he does not rule my question nor should he rule your answer.
So think of a way you would answer this question and answer in the way you have chosen:
What do you think?
I look forward to your answer, delivered whatever way you chose and from someone I might not even know.


I find myself wanting more.
And that's it... just... more.
I'm not sure how to explain it properly except to say what I all ready have.
I want more.


I'd give anything to be a rock
at the bottom of a stream.
Caressed by the river.
Emotionless and motionless.
Unmoving and unmoved.
For the rest of eternity.

Dear Reader

Dear Reader,
I'm not the worlds most perfect blogger so please excuse my clumsy attempts.
I mean, no one is perfect and I forgive that unsightly monstrosity you claim to be your nose so forgive my awkward ramblings.
That is all I ask of you.
Your Hallucination xx

Have you ever...

Have you ever woken up so unsure about life what seems most real are you dreams the night before.

The Wonderous

I don't think people understand that if you believe in the wonderous, if you trust and follow it, you'll be glad you did; amazed at what you find.
I don't think even I understand it, too cynical and unable to trust. The wonderous just passes me by, doesn't give me the second look I don't really deserve, and I don't even notice it until it's passed me by, by which time I stare wishfully after it, knowing what I have lost but just as unlikely to go after it the next time the opportunity presents itself.
And I wish for the wonderous to notice me, but my hypocrisy prevents me from noticing when it does, and this is why I will never be a story, why I will never have the inner journey or great epiphany I know it's time I have. Because i let the wonderous pass me by.

A Quote

"When you reach for the stars you may not get one, but you won't come up with a handful of mud, either"

-Leo Burnett


I cannot say much on the subject, even after several days of contemplation, although I have formed, finally, some sort of conclusion in my mind:
We are all insane.
It has become my belief that everyone is born insane, or becomes so early into their childhood, and must work to gain their sanity.
I do have some sort of evidence to support my theory, and, although my source is fictitious, I find it reliable.
In Douglas Adams So Long and Thanks for All the Fish, John Watson, who calls himself Wonko the Sane, has built an Asylum for the rest of the world, "and hoped it would get better". Wonko the Sane decided it was necessary to build the Asylum after reading a set of detailed instructions for use in a package of toothpicks.
With the words:
Hold stick near centre of its length. Moisten pointed end in mouth. Insert in tooth space, blunt end next to gum. Use gentle in-out motion.
I, too, have realised that the world must be insane, "...any civilisation that has so far lost its head as to need to include detailed instructions for use in a package of toothpicks, was no longer a civilisation in which [people] could live and stay sane."
This realisation is the effort, the work I spoke of earlier, needed to achieve sanity. Without it the world will continue to stay crazy.
But even the realisation will not fully achieve you your sanity, what will I cannot answer. I believe it is something you must discover yourself.

Sunday, December 7

Waking-A Series of Haiku

Sheets around my chest
Darkness thick and smothering
Heat suffocates me

Sweat slick on my spine
It streams across my back
River down my neck

Eyes open in fear
Heart-beat heavy at my breast
Body stiff with dread

Feel like I’m floating
Heavy weight across my chest
I am sinking deep

Noise is so soundless
Will not echo from my lips
Will my voice be heard?

Sleep is coming
I teeter just on the brink
I wish not to fall

I fear returning
I know it cannot be true
But I terror still

Saturday, December 6

A Stream of Consciousness

The Bird. It sits in the tree, huddles. No one knows. Whispers through the trees. Wind rustling. Unknown voices from unknown times. The bird knows. The bird sees. I see. My eyes become clear and the bird flies from its tree. I am alone. I sit in its tree and I see. I see the distant explosion. The one that scares me. I know no god. God is not here. He will not save us from this. I fear all. Our eyes are blinded. Open them. See what the bird sees. See what I see. No longer be a ghost. Do not be a lost soul.

Friday, December 5

A poem found inside the cover of a book

If you are a dreamer, come in
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A Hope-er, a Pray-er, a magic-bean buyer
If you're a retender come sit by my fire,
Fore we have some flax-golden tales to spin
Come in
Come in

Shel Silverstein

Thursday, December 4

The Phonebook Fiasco

Traffic stopped outside our small town on the Hume highway Friday after phonebooks fell from their truck.
I can imagine the mass numbers of homes going without a phonebook this coming year will be devastating.

I want to be...

I want to be more than just a name and a face.
I want to be an idea. A song. A game of chess. A dance. A breeze. A tree. A river. A wide and sweeping plain. A story. A love between two people. An ocean...
Do you understand what I am trying to say?
I want to be an emotion. A dream. A beauty.
I want to be more than just a name and a face.

My Dreamworld Existance

These days I never find myself fully in reality.
I'm either in my own fantasy world or drifting somewhere in between it and reality.
I don't think I could ever escape this dream, I don't think I would ever want to.
I am never really here...

A Life Less Frightening

When asked what do I want most in the world I suddenly drew a blank.
Once the answer would have been easy. Once I would have answered immediately, without a second thought. What that answer would have been I will not go into. It is not important.
But now, when asked what do I want most in the world, I cannot answer.
That was until I heard a song this morning and now the answer is clear:

"I don't ask for much. Truth be told I'd settle for a life less

A Life Less Frightening