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|Thursday, February 25th, 2010|
|I have completed something...
Outside the odd essay, short story assignment, countless poems (well, countable, but who really wants to spend their time doing that?) I haven't really completed any writing. All examples previously written have either been set by a school, or are so short they can be completed within an A4 page.
Today I completed something. A written piece of my own initiative that what will hopefully amount to about a 5 minute short film. Currently it's on paper, seeing a note book is easier to carry than constantly carting my lap top around, but gradually it's being typed up and will hopefully be sent out to the few people I know with video cameras and eventually made, on weekends, cos now that I can actually make my own movie I've gone and found myself a full time job. Life's a bitch.
I feel so deflated (why does that word always look like de-flat-ed?). It's basically come down to 5 pages of dialogue with camera directions and for the last week has Consumed my free time. It's not so much that it was hard to write, more that I don't give myself much free time, but now I'm meant to be typing it up and all I can think of is: Now I have nothing to write about.
This sucks. It was so much fun to read over it, make minor corrections, then continue with the story. There is still much correcting to be doing (taking out commas, putting them back. Repeat) but I'm not actually Writing. Now what am I going to do?
I mean, I still have to finish my play, and theres about 4 poems still be finished, plus another 3-5 that need to be edited before I'm fully satisfied with them, and possibly the comic book I need to flesh out to present to an artist... But they're not This piece.
Should people find themselves reading this and wish to be apart of the film feel free to drop me a line. So far I need.... Everything... Well, I think I can ask a guy to direct and film it for me as he's currently studying film at Uni and he's Russian so he'll like... stuff... but everything else could be useful.
Anyway. Back to editing... I guess...
|Wednesday, November 25th, 2009|
|Thursday, November 12th, 2009|
|Wednesday, November 4th, 2009|
|Wednesday, October 14th, 2009|
|dead peasant issurance, the Moore we hear the less we know...
Last night I was blessed with a cancellation of plans leaving me with an open evening and no one to see. Walking the streets of East Van on a tuesday night one can find oneself with too many option. I chose the option of seeing Micheal Moore's Capitalism: a Love story for $6 (turns out tight arse tuesday seems like a universal tradition :) ) wealth worth the money and more.
There is simply too much for one movie to show. Everything was brief and sensationalised, an attribute which I was not impressed with but could accept as a need for story telling. The simple truth of the film is that it Is true, people are being kicked out of their homes, which have been sold out from under them, under false promises from the greedy rich that we hoping to get richer, and succeeded, but playing on the average person who happened to trust them, oh whom there were thousands.
Lets add to this the down right dirty schemes of taking out life insurance policies on staff members. Google dead peasants insurance policies (yes, indeed, dead Peasants) and you'll find a long list of very powerful companies that do things that one might expect from mobsters. One company (and not a small one i might add, one of the major ones) received 5 million (for those playing the home game, thats $5,000,000USD) on one person that the family never sees that is completely Tax Free. thank you Uncle Sam.
The problem is that Americans believe that this could never happen to them. These tactics, on a smaller scale, have been used in South America, South Africa, any where the rich have been able to call their gambling play ground....
Welcome to the 21st Century America, the Rich suck and you never wanna be it, unless you want to take stock options on your Morals. Enjoy your concrete pavement bedding.
|Sunday, October 4th, 2009|
|Saturday, October 3rd, 2009|
|Apocalypse part 3
Two weeks of trekking through jungle had not seemed an impossible venture on the first night. It had seemed as far away as the next century with no point of hoping it would arrive, wearied head down and forlorn, unsure it was still welcomed in the house of Now. Through the tears of loss and heartache the night had seemed as endless as the sky which viewed it all. Every tree heard the prayer of hope spoken with the the hollow voice. Every bush heard the vow of vengeance, followed by the uncertain questioning of how.
Two weeks was the time it would take to arrive at the next major town. Ordinarily it would take only a week if traveled by the road, but Graham did not believe himself ready to face whatever had caused his local village's destruction. The tropical forest was also a haven should others be spotted, and hiding right now seemed the only option.
Slowly the nights became less endless, and Graham's thoughts turned less from the stupidity of his previous decisions to the necessity of the now. Thankfully, the rationalised to himself, his depression meant he was eating less. He seemed barely in the mood to eat at all, forcing himself eat mouthful of the smallest portion before collapsing into fitful sleep.
Two weeks, as impossible as it seemed, did past, with the haze of fauna and bird calls. The birds, snakes and ants had survive in the forest, much to Graham's discomfort on too many a night, but not a sign of a human was to be seen. Not surprising, it was the heart of the jungle, He should be more concerned should he see a human.
The town was not large considered by world standards, but large to the locals. It held a population of 200,000 natives and some odd foreigners who worked the supposed necessary jobs, such as teaching English or running factories. Graham had first arrived in the town 6 years ago to teach and had decided he never wanted to leave. It was a year before he changed his mind and moved to the farm to volunteer, eventually to run and maintain the wwoofers that would wonder in from the outside. He believed himself capable of making contacts and evaluating the situation, whether it were politically volatile or native uprising. He believed he could navigate the city well enough even with his absence.
As he approached he marked the absence of sound, something learned from years in the jungle which meant a possible snake in the trees. There was no life, no noise of human traffic, no noise at all. He breached the edge of the forest and found the city standing like a mausoleum, trophies lining the horizon to the gods for their kills.
At the very edge of the clearing stood an abandoned shopping cart. Some things never change.
|Friday, October 2nd, 2009|
|I can't believe i'm posting this...
I should be walking home. I'm running out of time and I really need to get to work. I should be logging off and simply walking away, but I'm Fucking furious. I'm furious because someone I slept with, someone I was intimate with, someone I shared a bed with and a small portion of my life is happy with the idea that a man can kill prostitutes and feed them to pig, even find it fitting and mildly humours. That she could call these women nothing more than objects, Things that have given up their humanity by their decision. Artifacts. Trash that needs to be cleaned from our streets.
That she would say that women who go to sex parties (the original topic of conversation) are no more than object themselves, things that deserve any raping they might receive should a gang of men become too unruly and take too much control. That they would go to these parties shows that want nothing more than to be savaged...
What hurts more is that the older I get the more I see this every day.
My dad used to say that refugees should be bombed at see. I gave up arguing against him, but I felt almost certain that when I grew older I would meet fewer of his kind. That the world would change as people realised we Are All Human, that the state of the clothes or the choices of their lifestyles does not diminish the rhythm of their heart. If you prick them they very much bleed and cry for the mercy that few have offered them.
I see it so much here in Vancouver because it is the homeless captial of Canada, being warm enough that many can live on the streets, that it does not snow enough during the winter that so many freeze as they do in Toronto or Montreal. It once had a strong social service, a heroin injection clinic (several, now down to one, and soon that too will be closed).
Now these people on the streets are nothing more than filth to the locals who live here. They are a shadow to be ignored as shadows are not meant to be seen when the sun is down. Humans are only meant to be viewed when they're pretty, full of life and love, full of the milk of human kindness. I have seen the mother that gives the milk of human kindness. Her breasts are chapped and raw from those who struggle and fight to be at the very front, then spit out what is given shouting it is not sweet enough. She has grown bitter and cruel, selfish of her own body, for none acknowledges her right to space, freedom, and the power of Giving, as all order her, and only shout their right to take.
I hate this need for taking because we all claim no one gives enough. I must pry my fare share from your cold dead hand. Shoot any that comes within sight, even though he might be offering more than he can give.
We are all human, regardless of how we choose to express it. No one has the right to lay claim to the name great than anyone else simply because of the decisions they make, for it is a quality that is not bestowed onto us by others by a gift we receive a birth. Unfortunately I am coming to see that it is less and less a gift and damn fucking shame to be born this way at all.
Next life I chose an atom, and please let it be for something that does no harm at all.
|Wednesday, September 30th, 2009|
|Friday, September 25th, 2009|
|Saturday, April 11th, 2009|
|wow... 2 years
I haven't posted anything on this website in 2 years. i can't believe its still being used. i figure i should write down whats happening somewhere, seeing as the internet will probably as long as paper this may not be a bad place.
so i'm homeless, not poor, living in Vancouver off the kindness of strangers (when did LJ start correcting people's spelling... i don't think i can handle this much change!!) i landed in vancouver on sunday unsure if i had a place to sleep that night and thats pretty much been the problem ever since. really, its a no brainer, worse case scenario i stay at a hostel, i just have to pay. probably wasn't smart to leave the week before easter so that all the hostels would be booked up but oh well. thanks to the wonderful resource Couchsurfing.com (thanks to the lovely couple for getting me onto that) i have been able to sleep free every night i've been here. soon though i leave for a farm, completely isolated (i'll need a boat to get out there... not to the town, to where i'll be living. my neighbours will be ducks, and most likely they'll Still complain about the noise).
thats enough complaining for now. i may find time to be more thorough at a later date. remember to breathe people.
|Thursday, June 28th, 2007|
|ahh the cold
Melbourne has welcomed my return with rain and wind. it's a dreary 0(lightly circle thingy) degress outside and it looks like it'll only get better from here.
yes, it's finally cold in melbourne.
which means scarfs, jackets, boots, hats (and a recently aquired beanie) woolen socks, skivies (if i can find one going cheap) and much more. no more hiding from the sun, shedding clothes only to reapply, it's simply suit up and walk out, my breath visible to the naked eye and my nose pink from the crisp, chilled air.
having come from Adelaide which has been nothing but bright sun and cold winds for two weeks this overcast, depressing cloud cover is a reassuring blanket for my slightly askiew mind.
i love the melbourne rain, more persistant than a tele-marketer, more invasive than a government audit, the way it hides behind your door before you step out, then buckets like the apocolypse the step beyond it being worthwhile to return home for an umbrella. how it batters at window panes trying to drown out the commercials, and brings people together as they huddle against the icy blasts.
while most others will be griping and moaning about how they can't escape the cold, how they have to wear five layers just to keep out the breeze, i'll be thinking of the winter i experienced overseas, a winter with lightning storms but little rain, a winter with 30degress C, humidity that seaps under your skin and thins your blood, humidity that drains the sweat from your skin as you sit, in the shade, trying to breath as little as possible so that you don't move and create more heat.
and nothing says melbourne more than a midnight drizzle with gale force winds and a morning fog. it could only be capped by inch thick frost layering the windshields and hail like we used to get when I was a boy, don't get hail like that any more. young people today don't know what they're missing.
finally, a real winter. a Melbourne winter.
|Sunday, April 1st, 2007|
|home safe and sound
home aafe and sound. my final plane trip was actually really peaceful as i spent most of it listening to Miles Davis. my plane was changed due to techincal difficulties and delayed by 2 hours and i didn't care. HH Miles...
so, i'll join the living world at some point. when i work out where i'm staying and when i'm starting work i'll work out when i'll be at places to see people. for now, hi all, talk to you aoon.
|Saturday, March 31st, 2007|
|i don't think i'm meant to come home...
i nearly missed my first flight due to cammel delays. nearly missed my second flight due to over sleeping. and now my flight out of Singapore has been canceled and changed to another plane due to mechanical error. i don't think i was meant to leave India.
pity i didn't have the funds to stay for longer. next time i'll actuallly travel, now that i know a few sites to see. i'll be home around midnight tonight. hope you're all having fun.
|Friday, March 23rd, 2007|
|it's all going insane!
after snapping at a rickshaw driver (i rarely tell strangers to Fuck Off!) and clawing at my skin in a cafe i've decided the city is no longer a place for me and am returning back to the farm. could be for a couple of days, could be for the rest of my trip. either way, i'm out of Jaipur.
and off the net. it's been great talking to some of you online late at night, or early in the morning as luck would have it sometimes, but it'll also be great to be isolated again. computer is too much a temptation when its around. so i'm going net free till i return home.
one whole week. ouuuu... think i can last. pfft.
i got to see the best side of the city; from a great distance. even better is when i won't be able to see it at all. i'm not really keen on the farm either, theres nothing there for me but food and work. i'll get to watch some bollywood movies, but other than that i'm done with there too.
home it is. in a week... 6 sleeps. man, i spend 6 hours at delhi airport! six HOURS! they don't even have carpeting! what am i going to do there for six hours! in singapore, the shopping complex of the future, i spend 2! at least in singapore i could sleep!...
i don't think the manager will be happy with me. never really did any work, never did any of the spying he wanted, and after i leave i don't think anything i taught will continue. ohh well, his first attempt at a volunteer failed. didums.
now. must finish packing. good luck to everyone about something. see ya all in a week.
|Thursday, March 22nd, 2007|
as yet i have not become a LJ whore. i haven't. its just right now my room is fit to boil and there is no where to escape the heat where i can be left alone except this net cafe. i don't think these people even want me here, but they take my money anyway. no one asks my name, where i'm from or where i'm staying.
found out today that Jaipur Is Fucking Huge!! Jaipur rests between several mountains (i call them mountains, i'm sure people from other parts of the globe would just call them hills). there is one in the centre which has a fort, thats where i was this morning. the city stretchs Around the mountain. it's double the size i thought it was. when you stand at the top the city stretchs to the horizon. all you see is either other mountains or the city. theres also a bit of sand at the borrom of the hill.
ok, i should make an attempt at an LJ cut. you've all been forced to see them now, i'll hide them away.
|Wednesday, March 21st, 2007|
|this could take a while to load
ha ha! success! lj cuts!( Layla, the G, and my little sister McKenzieCollapse )( Layla, Yves, John and some crazy frenchmanCollapse )
each photo is of where we ate while on the farm. the first photo, and more to come, are of Pasta Night, thats when Mckenzie and another girl bought some Pasta and somehow it turned out i was the only one who could cook it. so, rallying the troops, i organised an assembly line and almost everyone in the commune helped cook. all i did was tell them what to chop, how much, and stirred, and the result is in the photo.
it tasted soo good. and i got all the credit (but of course handed it around in due portions) it was a brilliant night on the farm, not just for eating pasta andback patting, but the fact that we came together as a family and cooked together. latter that night a small group of us stayed up talking till the candle burned out, then continued talking in the darkness... was an amazing night.
|Tuesday, March 20th, 2007|
|blasted photo bucket
for the last week, since the wonderful clap suggested a way of posting photos on lj i've been trying to upload photos onto photobucket...
to no avail. the photos are here, safe and sound, on this computer. they are Massive files (anyone know how to shrink a photo's size?) and one photo takes more than an hour to upload. i know, because i haven't been able to upload a photo as i can only stay online for one hour.
ok, so some catch phrases i've learned that i'll probably continue to use whnn i get home. i figure if i write them down now people may have some idea of what i'll be saying:
Shanty Shanty: peace and quiet. Indians always repeate a phrase for signficance or something. same word means two different things, but shanty basically means peaceful. so if you see me sitting around doing nothing, or ask me what i'm thinking, and i reply "shanty shanty" i'm being peaceful, leave me the Fuck Alone.
tora tora: half half, or little little, as in i speak tora tora english. and no, this has no relations to the film (for the film buffs)
dhaniwad: thankyou. i hate saying thankyou, or is it please... or both, so i'll just start saying dhaniwad to confuse you
Ram Ram Sa! means Ram is great. Ram was a prince of India who is the reincarnation of Vishnu, or something. people in India go wild if you say it, they expect westerners to only know Namaste.
G. all these years getting people to call me G, it means Sir in India. it's weird walking through the country side with people saying "Namaste G" "How do you know me!... wait..." so namaste G.
buss. enough, too much, no more. be worried when you hear this from me concerning alcohol, it means you should prepare a bed.
no insults yet, and can't think of any more that i would use in daily life (if i ask you to pass the subgei be worried... i'll let that tease your minds for a while) though i'm sure i've had a few insults hurled at me. one guy called me 'white snake' but it was in english, so i don't know the translation. it was cool being called white snake, i call it my prison name.
no chaos or drama today, just work and food. i love not being sick, though now i'm worried my bowels have gone the other way. can a person get constipated in India? would one recommend chilli? i should do more Aurvedah research.
oh, and if people thought i was a crazy hippie before, you should hear my theories of the universe and natural energies now... coo coo....
why do i always attract the crazy people?
two days, two guys, less than 24 hours. i went out drinking with a couple of people i met from the hotel, to pass some time before seeing a film. together we took tooked (auto rickshaw, they call them 'took tooks') to the cinema to see '300' (awesome film by the way, even when you watch it in Hindi)
we had an hour to kill, so what do we do? find another pub of course. here all the bottle shops have a back room, basically a storage room, where you can sit and drink. we sat and polished off a small bottle of whiskey where we met this indian guy. he seemed cool, spoke only a little english, but that didnt matter. he was drunk and so were we, so we mingled together brilliantly. he and i got close (as close as a drunk aussie gets with another drunk aussie) and suddenly he thought we were friends.
and suddenly he was following us to the cinema, and joining us, and constantly talking during the film, and then tried to kiss the only female in the group. thats when her 'brother', our third member (he's Austrian, she's mexican, but the have the same mother... in India at least) simply told him to back off and to leave. then he fled.
after that the film was fine, until he came back, and wouldn't shut up. he was even told by other Indian people to shut up. when he tried to sit next to the girl again and she actually got up to move away from him, he finally got the hint and left.
now, after seeing a gory film, what does any true aussie want to do? Right. Drink. so when we left it was with the hope that the bar would still be open to take a drink home. the guy was waiting for us outside! he wouldn't quit! he kept on saying "Vikrim, if you are my friend, then you should do this" (Vikrim is the hindi name i've adopted, even for some English speaking people here Graham is too hard to pronounce) he wanted us to get into his car so he could give us a lift back to our hotel. the Austrian was cool with it, but i asked the girl "do you want to get into his car? take a lift with him?" she said no, so i told him i didn't care about being his friend any more and that we were taking a rickshaw. he whined! he was like a spoilt child! he stamped his foot and stormed off! i think he was actually crying. my friends don't cry (not the male ones) so he wasn't a friend.
besides, i wasn't going to get in his car. if he's driving he could take us anywhere "please, come to my house, please, five minutes." not happening. he knew where we lived anyway, i wasn't worried about that, i just wasn't going to be kidnapped.
it was a better choice anyway, the rickshaw driver found us an all night bottle-o so we could continue drinking at home.
then today, i'm trying to post a letter when this kindly gentleman offers to help. he gets me a form (which i couldn't read) and tells me what to say and where to take it. then he left. i couldn't work it out so left for some lassie and came back later when i'd cooled down. he came back and this time ran me through the entire process, step by step, even helping me to jump the que to get it sent quicker. i thought "sweet, finally a good guy that doesn't want something"
i must walk like a pigeon, cos i'm pretty sure i look like one. i'm over the road having chai with him when he tells me about his rich friend who travels the world selling silver, and how i should meet him later "nope." "but why?" "busy." "with what?" "just busy. i don't have to tell you." and then fled. i treat people nicely and they think they can roll me. he looked kinda shocked that i would suddenly turn cold and refuse him. eh. i owe him nothing.
man. why do i attract these people! thank god i'm not a woman, imagine the boyfriends i would get! or worse, girlfriends! i've had enough cray females in my life (not all have been, just a select few) but why!!
thankfully i am no longer poor. what would have cost me $3000 through courier cost me $600 by GPO, unfortunately theres breakables inside, and i'll beat it home anyway, so some of it could be for nothing, but i'll let the fates decide.
more food money! and possibly one more shawl for myself before i leave. the one i have is more a cape, and not the best quality. i would like something i could wear for life. hmm... maybe something in black.
ahh drama drama drama. i get enough of it back home. when i do find a place to live i think i'm going to hide there for a couple of weeks, do nothing but work, and let certain friends through the door, those that can leave the drama at the door. i'm getting way too much of it here.
i'm missing Shaun's clear headedness, Hannah's endless compassion, Anita's enthusiasm for life. i never realised how much i drained these qualities from these people, but when they're not around it's as though i've been drained of these a little. for days i was crazy because i couldn't wrap my mind around the mechanics of the universe. it took Shaun to save me from that. i haven't had anyone to bounce ideas with over how to run a cafe, and so am second guessing all my decisions. and when 3 westerners can sit in a rickshaw mimicking a street urchan's pleas for rupees to the near brink of tears, at your suggestion, you realise that your heart has hardened a little too much.
we all do it here (by we, i mean the backpackers, not the rich hotel urchants that travel in nothing less than an AC car). i've gotten into the habit of turning to the kids as saying "no money, no plane ticket, rupees? no money no plane ticket, must fly home. 100 rupees?" but when it's the same kid for the last four days your tolerance cracks.
i just want my city. my parks, my cafes, my free trams, my footpaths, my trains, clean air and drinkable tap water. i swear i'll have a gallon when i reach a house, or even from the airport sink. i want my people, my beggers, who simply stand with their head down. i want my government opperatives, who are efficient, if not at least pleasant, if not at least in an air conditioned building.
i want dollars, and fixed prices. i want a Souvlaki! right across from a pub, round the corner from thai, and down the street from African, and round the corner from my friends. i want Saybian! re-strung, singing with glee after being reunited with his brother. ice chocolate at 4am, tea from degraves, curry from Hell's, sushi from little lonsdale, yoga, South Park (or at least the screaning, if never the time to actually watch it) conversations from people who know where i'm from and only want to know what i'm doing with where i'm going. people who pick up the check because this time you can't. LIVE MUSIC at bar open, retreat, MUSIC, my music. my cds.
i think my time in Jaipur will be just enough. anyhing more and i'd go nuts.
to give you an idea; i showered yesterday. today my arms are glossed with dirt. you know when the dirt marks the path of your vains. this is simply from Walking Through the city. i worked on the farm and stayed cleaner for longer.
i'll be returning for the farm for the weekend, the manager of the hotel wants me to turn upstairs into a cafe. i don't have time. so i'll just see about turning it into a bar. this way i don't have to change the system too much. and it can continue without me when i'm gone.
go, i'm really can't wait to leave now. i wish i hadn't started the rant. i think i need some shoppin therapy. time to get some Good lassie.