I don't know why but I have been having this irresistible urge to talk to you. I tried calling you a few times and either got a busy tone or you didn't pick up. Your caller tune is haunting. Nice choice. Nevermind.
It is raining and I am sitting next to the window looking out. Erik Satie is playing on the computer. Gymnopedies. Lent et douloureux. There is a leak in the roof and it painfully drips in to a bucket in the kitchen. Drip.Silence. Anticipation. Desperation. Drip. And repeated over and over and over again. The curtain billows in the steady rhythm of one asleep. And it rains. Like music.
I went to a concert last night. And the trumpeter joked about the time he was dangling 90 feet above the stage playing the trumpet.
John Keats is dead. John Keats is dead.
I have few things to say... I just wanted to talk. I wonder if you did pick up, what I would have said. Perhaps about Philip Glass. You should listen to him. Maybe not Metamorphosis but definitely Passages. I think they will... how should I put it... appeal to your sensibilities.
Did you know there is a Canberra Jung society. But there is no Freud society. Wouldn't it be funny if they were like rival gangs. and they TP the other's office at midnight and call each other names?
Obama, that pussyfoot is coming to Canberra next month. I should attend a public rally or something. I will hold out a poster that says, 'Will make you a honorary citizen if you say Giddy Up'. Or maybe say a 'Dingo took my baby'.
Sisyphus was cursed by the Gods to roll a huge stone up a steep hill and every time he almost reached the peak, the stone would roll down.
Kurt Cobain sings Where did you sleep last night.He scream... In the pines, in the pines, where the sun don't ever shines, I shiver the whole night through.
Did you know it is not about a cheating wife? It is an old country song about...
I don't know if you are still painting/ if you still read, but if you do see Piet Mondrian's art. I wouldn't be so presumptuous as to ask you to read a particular book, seeing as I myself haven't been reading much. I am reading a book called INFINITE JEST and...
Bright star.
The other day I cooked a mean Chettinad Chicken. Marinated in spiced yoghurt for like a day.
The secondhand bookshops are a treasure-trove and I am a bounty hunter.
I am going to buy a motorcycle. a Cruiser. a big heavy one. powerful. and thud thud thud around.
there is this tv series called The West Wing. you should watch it. what is it about? it is political.you are not into politics. it has funny moments. like when donna says she has penmanship. yeah right. not hahaha funny.
Masterpieces from Paris is in the national gallery. they are screening lust for life today. i don't know if i should go
i admit to it. at times, when the moon is low on the horizon and looks like a beachball just over the hills, i miss you.
Maslow has written a book called towards psychology of being. he grows in stature.
moon sets sun rises sun sets moon rises
never mind never mind never mind
