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June 16, 2005
Keeping up with the Now
It has come to my attention, just randomly and as of this moment, because I thought of it, not because someone put a memo on my desk or any such nonsense real world thing, which would never happen to me because I work in solitude on the fourth storey of a tall thin house which has a bit of a Rapunzel vibe to it, and the last thing to cross my desk was a lost possum, THAT ... this diary does not include much stuff about my day-to-day experiences, as diaries perhaps should, but rather is mostly comprised of random thoughts or old memories that were stirred up because I saw a fish. I want to be able to look back and reread this when I’m old and my mind is gone and I’m sitting on a pure diamond rocking chair in my floating aquarium mansion somewhere above the Himalayas (I saved all the fish! It’s like an Arc, a sky borne sanctuary for all the world’s fishes after humankind destroys the sea!), and remember the way life once was.
So
THIS IS REAL STUFF THAT HAPPENED TO ME IN THE LAST FIFTEEN MINUTES
I was (still am) up late, and my tummy was feeling a little rumbly, in both a hungry and upset kind of way. I went to get some milk from the fridge to ‘line it’. I hate the way that sounds: ‘I’m going to line my stomach’. You just know it has something to do with some kind of creamy slime. Anyway, there wasn’t much milk left, and I almost fell into the ol’ milk trap, which is where I drink the last milk late at night and then there’s NONE LEFT for coffee or tea the next morning, and as a consequence I spend the whole day building up the courage to go to the Most Horrible Shop in the World, located just around the corner. More on this shop at a later date. So, I didn’t drink any milk. But I did have a pie, to deal with the hungry bit of the equation. I put it in the microwave and didn’t let it run long enough, but thought I had, and took it out and put chilli sauce on it, and tried to cut it, and found it was still a little icy in the centre. Not in this town, pie. Back into the microwave with you! Leaving me holding two chilli sauce covered utensils – a knife and a fork if we’re going to be specific. NOW I had to stand around holding them as I waited for the pie to heat, as anywhere I put them down would just get dirty. I thought about putting them on an envelope that I was going to throw out anyway, but then I realised they still had to touch the pie again, and the envelope had probably been handled by lots of different people, and so be unhygienic. And then I thought ‘What the FUCK are you doing you idiot, just wait the extra thirty seconds or so that it will take the pie to cook and just hold the sodding utensils until then because what are you planning to do anyway? Go off and have a wild party, have a grand old time? With the now twenty seconds you have to wait until the pie is ready, did you think you could run off and talk to some girls or something you dickhead? Etc!’
THEN, if you can believe, when the pie was finally ready, I wondered whether or not to put MORE chilli sauce on it! THIS from the man who was looking for milk to line his stomach with all but two minutes before!
I ask you, future Sam, will it always be like this?
I hope this entry helps you remember what life was like, for a time.
Posted by Sam Bowring at 03:53 AM | Comments (0)
June 02, 2005
Into the Ravine
Be careful, ’ware your step
Avoid the crumbling sides
Stay solid on the path
Do not fall where earth divides
Don’t lean upon the shaky
Rotten protective fence
Don’t run or tackle, leap or play
That should be commonsense
The Ravine
Oh black Ravine
How deep? It is unseen
Beware of the Ravine
Beware the dark Ravine
One step amiss and DOOM is there
He’ll grab you by the shoulders
He’ll pull you down into the gloom
And smash you on the boulders
Hug the cliff face! Don’t look down
Into the gaping mouth of hell
It beckons those who don’t take care
I know – I was one who fell
The Ravine
Heartless Ravine
You are the space between
Beware the dark Ravine
Do not challenge the Ravine
This is a poem I have entitled ‘Into The Ravine’, which is a metaphor about falling into a ravine. Note the capitalisation of the 'Ravine’ in the poem – this is a device used to give the Ravine character, personify it to a degree, give it some malice, rather than just being a big hole in the ground. But the message is clear: no good will come of falling into a ravine.
Note to self: An alternative reading of the poem would be to suggest that YOU are the ravine, and the person walking on the crumbling path is your own depression FALLING INTO YOU - but such a reading is obviously loony tunes, and if anyone says it to you, you should leave the party immediately.
Speaking of parties, I’m off downstairs to meet Squeakfeather for a cup of iced milk. Good night diary and hello dairy!
Thanks for recording my poems, diary.
Posted by Sam Bowring at 04:17 AM | Comments (0)