sexting

when one reads a regarded friend's reflective piece, is it one's own narcissism that loosens the wells of "mirror mirror on the wall, who the fuck are you, after all?", or is it the touch of another's openness in sincerity and revealation?  [yesshitpun]

for me the two causals are inseparable.

what are you doing here?
"i don't know."
are you confused?
"definitely no."

its been 3 months for me now.

and i sit here now, tired, sated, with an inner elation, mesmerised unfathoming of chance and chances befallen.

thanks2all which inspires, spurs - and for self-love.

,,,only god knows the helluva time ive been having.

be it:

whimsical existential discussion while toking on apache-smokey with newly met strangers,

table tennis circuit with german speaking swiss/french and chicago bullfighters, while live classical piano and impromptu swiss choir harmonies in the basement of my favourite madame,

dancing with devils to new year invitations,

meeting the exact doppelganger of an old flame, and then finding that she's chosen my bed(room),

home cooked meals and hospitalities while talking&living life as though it were, and is, alive...

or simply as last night indonesian/german birthday party in berlin's whoop whoop with layers of cold strangers unravelled into warmth, and vchatting with a dear friend of old...

i have found it hard to find the desire to write about my experiences as that can only capture a little of the much.  also forgetting what happens to me so easily because i absorb the experiences so readily.  my words a rather narrow window, hence my preference for the simple lyricy of that which is short and showetic, diluted but undiluted.

anyway im tired, and need to lie down now...

fuck you, fuck me, be free

(on) chance's waiver passing sail

my hand,
for your hand

a heart's glass,
a trickle of sand

a flashing tide,
on doubtful shore

tied to hope,
with hope no moor

my hand,
for your hand

corner of words

mole bludg*er
noun informal

(derogatory) a person who engages in sexual intercourse with 'moles'.

DERIVATIVES
mole bludg*eon verb [trans.]

ORIGIN from the Aussie slang terms "mole" and "dole bludger"

salty and sweet

we sex in the shower

and I pee on your flower

mixing whales and eggstacy

during orgasms of pregnancy

we'll cower, under warm covers

wink and cuddle for some hours

then rinse our sins
in absolution

from tubes already pinched

philosophocles

excuse me Descartes, but

"I am a figment of my own imagination"

how do you like them apples?

smug

sometimes through the years

you don't know where to go

and then it kind of just happens

before you care to know

so while we may be traumatised

by the past, and its reprise

in truth we'll still shed all our lies

you know?

untitled/delirious

your boobs are pretty good,

but that's not what i'm interested in

I'm into your fucking gravity

your mouth bubbles words

that burst forth

and I thrust deeper

and as eyes twinkle

I enter, the milky galaxy

of your loin's ether

NEIN NEIN NEIN!

OK FIRST OF ALL, IF YOU ARE ONE OF THE PEOPLE I AM TRYING TO RENT A FLAT WITH, DO NOT READ MY BLOG, I HAVE REALISED THAT IF YOU DON'T KNOW ME WELL THEN YOU WILL GET THE WRONG IMPRESSION AS I MAKE VERY SARCASTIC JOKES THAT ARE NOT INDICATIVE OF MY ACTUAL BELIEFS!!!!!!!!

ok, DAMMMITTTT i have so much (non-sexual) frustration today argh! i have now seen a few flats and found an awesome one where i completely blew it due to my ratatat mouth. WARNING: DO NOT make inappropriate gay jokes with people who are interviewing you for a roomshare.

At times like this i wish i had a mad dog to come home to who would jump on me and lick my face.

anyway two places have already said they would like me, but one of them is in a far off part of kreuzberg with no real buzz and the other is with this amazingly cool and nice opera thesis guy, but his flat is expensive and in a an area of Neukölln i didn't take a shine to.

the area of Friedrichshain i just got back from is AMAZING and i am almost dead-set on Friedrichshain or naught. on my way home from my favourite supermarket "NETTO 'marken discount'" I was eyefucked by a real cutie, which alleviated some of the pain, but Netto ran out of my favourite probiotic yoghurt which sucked. oh and they ran out of Rocket/Arugula which meant I couldnt make my intended salad...

anyway i am SUPER-DUPER-excited about this (new) year, my mind swirls with the possibilities i have to reinvent myself in berlin, both internally and professionally. i am also SUPER-STOKED that I already know so many nice people here in berlin, that have either helped me, or touched my heart in some way, with their kindness, generosity, or sincere smile.

ok, i am starving and looks like i'll have to book some more appartment interviews, ahhh what could have been.

Q

The Postman #2/2

(originally written Sunday, July 9, 2006, 1:27:00 am)

Ok so posted a realy big blog os shit which didnt seem to post, so much to my annoyance I will have to write another. I hate being so lazy and writing in severe (fortnightly) retrospect as I have such an absent memory. Anyway...

San Sebastien was beautiful, hugly recommend it. Got my groove on, as they say, down at some of the hippest night spots and dance halls. One was called Uder Berri and it was cool electro and stuff with a whole bunch of scrappy Spaniards. Went to heaps of other places but the weirdest experience was haning out at this cool gay, YES GAY, bar called Dioni's, getting hit on by a drunk wanker and then Paolo getting hit on by a bartender cum worst dj on earth whom we dubbed 'Frasier' due to his outlandish, frasieresque mop. Paolo ended up getting invited to what turns out to be the biggest gay bash I've ever seen held in the San Sebastien Culture Hall in a secluded no-tourist area of San Seb, and I get to witness a million gays in assless leather chaps, dancing like complete ballerinas despite the fact they have greco roman wrestler type bodices. For the first time, yes the FIRST, I felt out of my element in a gay venue. Anyway San Seb was just fabulous.

Paris was cool, Emmanuela (Paolos mum) booked us a place in a far off district called La Defense, which was like a Fairfield of Paris. Hung out at the Arc de Triumph when France beat Spain.... and also when Italy beat Ukraine, with a nice bottle of french red to celebrate. The Louvre was really cool, like every museum we'd been to rolled into one and saw some really cool 'stuff'. Parisians were quite suprisingly nice as well, unlike anything we'd heard from everyone...I suppose it helps to be hot.

Amsterdam was awesome, will blog later, currently in Prague on my lonesome and gonna go see Freestylers tonight at some huge international skating comp that Ive never heard of nor care much about, but might be cool.

Shout outs to anyone (apart from me) who actually reads my blog.

peace & love

the postman #1

I found some unsent/unposted blog posts and e-mails lurking around in my Hotmail Drafts folder, reading them again four years later is a really bizarre experience.

Here is 1 of 2:

(written Tuesday, November 15, 2005, 1:32:05 pm)

So I'm in Scotland now. I've bought some new clothes (in Manhattan) to keep me warm. It seems ppl here in the UK are very trendy so I've got my work cut out for me in becoming a man of the town. It's been interesting seeing asians and a-rabs with english and scottish accents. Its pretty cold here (their autumn is already as cold as a bad winter in oz) and I've been told it'll get heaps colder, which should be interesting (as if I wasn't small enough!). BRooooo
A list of things that have happened or spring to mind (not necessarily recently or in any order):
1. Went to the Guggenheim in Manhattan which showcases Russian Modern Art, I recommend a guy called Marc Chagall, a Russian born French painter. 'Paris through a window' 'The Soldier' 'The green violinist' are quite good. Art CAN be fun!
I'm quite surprised at how much I ended up enjoying an art gallery but I'm glad to have found a new appreciation. Since then have been to the Tate museum of modern art in London, was ok.
2. Lost my train drivers hat
3. Lost my sleeping bag (or rather, had it stolen)
4. Bought a digital camera (canon sd400) which is sweet as. Will send some choice pics to yall as soon as i can
5. seen Brothers Grimm (average) saw Jarhead, was ok, saw Domino at the cinemas which SUCKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDD a gibbons dick (nice choice Matt), also seen Waiting which was awesome and A History Of Violence was pretty good too. Also Wedding Crashers is awesome, but avoid Four Brothers (again Matt).
6. Haven't heard too much music recently which sucks. Some of the music I've heard though has reminded me of you guys.
Style Council ,The Clash and Kanye West have reminded me of Pete.
Mariahs new stuff is pretty good Paolo (Waolo).
Three 6 Mafia - Stay Fly, Akon & Young Jeezy - Soul Survivor Fiddy Cent - Outta Control is Wayne material.
Ray J - One Wish sounds like the old rnb slosh that my sister likes.
All the generic american rock reminds me of sherien.
7. I've seen a lot of niggahs in America, and they really aren't as bad as how their self-appointed spokesmen (P DIDDYDID-A-DOODOO, CURTIS '50c for a song' JACKSON) seem to suggest. I did see an MTV ad though where some anonymous boo-jiggah proclaims "You know why us black people are the best? Because we're the only ones that can turn nuffin into sumfin" Look out for my man Fiddy's new movie "Get Rich or Die Black" BLARGH.
People in the Hamptons, and Manhattan aren't very racist (hehe unlike me), everyone is integrated which on a personal note, has been a really nice thing to experience.
8. Seen a stack of DVD's thanks to rainy days in Southampton. Cocktail is awesome! so was Napoleon Dynamite. Pianist is real good too and I could swear that either Wayne or Wes is in fact Adrien Brody. Seen a lot of 2nd rate dvd's too thanks to Matt's dubious taste (Legends of the Fall anyone?).
9. Got almost eaten alive by this american girl Diane, a photographer or something. I actually had blood scabs on my neck silly whore. She kept talking about faeces which was cool.
10. Been to Coney Island which was weird. Theres a big russian population there, half the fucking restaurants didn't have English menus wadafa. Had Borsch soup (which is Ukrainian) which was fucking great. Also had a russian crepe served with cream called a Blintze which for some reason to me sounds funny. Blintze Blintze. I prob got the worst blintze (farmers cheese), should of had the cherries.
11. Walked the equivalent of 500-600 Manhattan blocks thanks to mine and Matt's passion for da trek. Central Park is HUGE (takes up like 1/5th of Manhattan) and really peaceful. New York really is an amazing city. Went to the Statue of Liberty which isn't as big as you would think.
12. Cabbed it through Harlem - WHAT A DUMP. Didn't have time for dBronx.
13. Tried on a $920USD jacket made of a hybrid fabric which was really nice unlike the price. Check out DDCLAB.COM for the RICK jacket if you're a fashion slut(POWLO and Nhu). The pics on the website don't do the clothes justice really they look so great on. And Nhu how nice is the Yellow Poplin thingy?
14. Hung out on Elm Street during Halloween Night which was real cool. It was impossible not to be jealous of these kids as they strolled around kitted in stupid costumes all about candy and good fun. A few kids even knocked on me and Matt's place and we had to turn them away. I wasn't born yesterday kiddies!
15. Served Paris Hilton a diet coke at a function I did for Clam Man Catering. It was her dad's 50th or whatever and her sister and brother were there. She seemed really polite, Nicky seemed a bit shy and weird. The dad was polite and their mom was like singing karaoke the whole night. Also got a sneak preview of Paris's upcoming album, needless to say not very good.
16. Waited 2 hours (midnite til 2am!) in line for a club called 'Fabric' in London which is meant to have bass so loud ppl wear ear plugs. It was ball-bursting cold and we realised we were never going to get in so went to a place called Turnmils (stupid name) which was recommended to us by a couple of people we got friendly with in the line for Fabric. Turnmils turned out to be AWESOME, not unhelped by the fact I sculled 5 double vodka and redbulls and a brandy and lemonade. A large chunk of the night I have no recollection of whatsoever...Matt said something about me falling onto a lot of people and him having to escort me out of the club, and throwing up on the pavement, and falling over some more. 5 hours later and we'd missed our flight to Edinburgh and I felt like crap.
17. I'm reminded of a night in Southampton that I decided to get trashed and mixed 5 different liquers with beer and stumbling for an hour along the road to a club called Jet East. Once I got there I fell asleep in shrubbery within the car park for about 40minutes and woke up when people started streaming out of the club as it closed. I then proceeded to puke violently in full view of everyone.
Anyways I'm now in Edinburgh, which is a beautiful little city, figuring out my next moves. Need a job since I've managed to spend almost 1000quid (which is over 2 aussie g'z at the moment) in the past two weeks. Might go up to Glasgow or maybe Carlisle or Newcastle. Haven't been able to sleep thinking about stuff hence this e-mail. All this time away has led to reflection on everything and everyone that has someway impacted upon who I am today and in that way who I will be tomorrow. Small gay I am.
Til the next sleepless night,
god bless you all
q

untitled

my beloved

of only matter

resonates [echoes]

the sound track

to heart breaks

and breath no more

random scribble found on scrap

cock+balls all sweat and brawn

legs apart, inside is worn

here it comes all thick and warm

baby's born! (so vag is torn)

old review found on scrap

Kite Runner - "The Book"

Decent enough story told adequately enough.   Some of the writing strays into being too colloquial/slang/informal, given the narrator's background/age (contrast between appropriate language for age/culture).  Some unnecessary cheesiness.

I did however enjoy the small insights into Afghanistani life and culture, and the subtle commentary by the narrator.

It was this aspect combined with the fact that I actually was curious about Amir's redemption and his real juxtaposition of culture, that worked me into actually reading it til the end.

Perhaps it was a case of immigrant sensibilities and understanding.

Interested to see how Amir's (and I suppose indeed Hassan's)  story is told via film...if any subtlety is translated.

(sidenote: I did enjoy this book, despite the tone of the 'review')

random old squibble found on scrap

"epistemology"

the nature of knowledge, the pursuit of it

cynicism as an impediment to 'knowledge'

yet cynicism is often a realisationthat we can/will never know it all, or enough, or even 'if'

(can be self-defeating of course)

the irony of a cynic doubting, compared to a believer who has stopped asking questions

the paradox of 'true' knowledge being antithetical to the very notion

(sidenote: wtf am i on about?)

go immolate yourself

been listening to the latest release from Telefon Tel Aviv "Immolate Yourself", mainly the opening track 'Birds' which just does something to me.

the band recently lost one half of its members...Chris Cooper found dead after going missing.

this profoundly affected me.

there have been nights in my life where I've spent hours pacing, dancing and singing to their songs...

i feel that there is some existential dilemma in their music.

the creation of that which is bittersweet. man's quest for something beautiful,,,to feel, and for meaning.

that ultimately there is so much that we still cannot know, despite the amazing things we can do here (on Earth).

I wonder what goes through (someone else's) mind when they choose to die...

there is i suppose a lot i already understand, having been at the brink so many times before.

but there is still so much more...one last connection, to have talked to them, mind to mind, before the end.

and i think that sometimes,
we choose to die because we cannot wait to find out that which is unknown.

dearest friends

to fall from so high and wonder why

to have hoped to die, but

for friends to catch thee, and prove

that in their love lies not a lie

untitled

my heart is raw

there is only so much it can take

before it cannot take anymore

you'll have what you want

but you want to feel

and you don't

this is a game losers play

so lets make our bluff

and let dearest hopes and dreams

become lost to fear and saddest regret