The writing frenzy project is going nicely, and I have passed 33k words of the 50k required. It seems I am consumed with it, and there is little time for my poetry. I can't wait to have some normality again, even though the experience will be good. I am so glad this is only a month long.
I want it to end, and I have started a nasty habit of cursing the Nano folder as I open it each day. If it goes on much longer I will become a shivering wreck and start to scratch the days off, on the walls with a broken twig or something.

I never claimed to be a novel writer. I am a poet, a short verse writer, a haiku writer, a short prose writer, a novelette writer (15k a few times), even, dare I say it, a novella writer (35k one time only) but this - this is my biggest amount of words attributed to one storyline. and it is tough...very tough. I want my stolen time back. I want to relax with my poetry and create nice things again.


alabaster walls
unseen - until
I hang a Van Gogh

Paradis

The iphone is not all it's cracked up to be!

It is far more :)

Love it love it love it. I am still marvelling at it, and I haven't even scratched the surface yet.
Had it what, two weeks? Got a few obvious apps for it, like Dropbox, Tweetdeck, Flickr and Skype of course, but there are many many very nice apps out there, that are very useful, like About battery, that keeps you informed of the state of your battery. And Stanza, a book reader, for all those book reading sessions when away from the pc. There are many nice reference apps too, like Wikipedia, dictionary.com and news sites a plenty. I downloaded Louvre, and like it suggests, it is a tour of the Louvre and it's works of art. Very nice too. And of course, wallpaper, for some very nice wallpapers to decorate your iphone walls.

I am still very much exploring and discovering this treasure of a phone, but after taking so long to decide to get it, I am not regreting it one bit. No sir!

I have finally answered some of Josie's questions, sorry they are late. The problem wasn't the time, but the ability to air the answers in public. These are some of the toughest questions I have answered publicly. Thanks Josie, for making me reach so far inside myself.


What has been your lowest and highest weight in your adult life and where does it sit naturally?

All my adult life, I have floated between 9st and 10st (Apart from pregnancy)
Highest weight I have been is 10st 7lb (147lb) This was at the time of my Father's death. It was a tough few months, and I ate more than I should have, and although it wasn't a complete disaster, it could have been, if I hadn't got back on track, realizing I was comfort eating.

The lowest weight I have been is 8st 7lb(120lb) I loved it there, but my body just didn't want to stay there in that place. It was very hard work, and no matter what I did to keep it there, even a starvation regime for a while, no way was it going to conform to that. So as I aged, I gained a bit of wisdom, and decided I should compromise with my body.
So I asked it where it felt it should be, and it settled happily into the 9st range. I agreed with it, it felt natural, I didn't have to try any more. I could eat anything, and my weight stayed in one place, and has done for the last twenty plus years (Apart from the time my Father died) and I didn't have to use that smutty four-lettered Diet! word any more.

Currently, it sits in a comfort range of 9st 10lb (136lb) Sure, I would like it to sit always on 9 or less. But lets be honest here, I am no spring chicken any more, and the older one gets, the harder it gets to maintain weight naturally. So the compromise rears up again, and I have accepted what I am. My motto is, never let the stones touch double figures, so if it sits under 10, that's ok with me.


What was the worst thing you have ever done?

Only one thing came to mind when I read this question, so I will talk about that.
It isn't something I did, more something I didn't do.

My Father died after a year battling stomache cancer. I visited him regularly, and held his hand, talked to him, occupied him, and we laughed through some nasty times together. He too is an optimist, and refused to believe he was dying. That someone had made a mistake, that the sickness and pain was only temporary. He couldn't die yet, he hadn't finished living. Only in the last weeks, when the cancer started speeding up, did he aquire some complacency over his condition. In those last few weeks, he became someone else. He wasn't my Father any more, he had already gone. Now all that was left was a battered body that didn't care what happened any more. He had grown weary of fighting, and of the pain and sickness. He wanted to rest, and the life was being squeezed out of him.

I don't know what happened really in the last two weeks, but for one reason or another, I never went to see him. I had no way to know those were his last two weeks. Life carried on, we were all tired, and I hated seeing him that way, we conversed by phone of course. I know it is easy to say, if I had known, I would have gone. Sure I would. If I had known, I would have gone every day, stayed with him, told him I loved him, and how much I would miss him. But life often kicks us in the nuts. We don't know these things. We can look back in hindsight and say how it would be different, but that's because we already know what happened. It is a tough call to make, when we don't have the facts that help us to make the choices and decisions we do. It's something we have to live with. So the worst thing I ever did, was not tell him I loved him, in those last weeks of his miserable life.


What do you consider the nadir point of your life?

Oh my, there have been a few spots, some I am not even comfortable with, lingering in my mind. But ok, life is tough and we take good and bad in equal measure. One of my strengths is my happy nature. That doesn't mean I never feel bad or sad. I do. It just means I can generally pull myself out of negative thoughts rapidly.  I am an optimist and realist in equal measure. There is no room for anything else.

The biggest chasm that ever opened up and swallowed me, was during my pregnancy. There I was with this nice rounded bump, at 20 weeks, when suddenly I was hit by the most dreadful tummy pains one can ever imagine. To say, I thought I was losing the baby, is an understatement. No, I thought I was dying. Simple as that.

I was rushed to hospital with haste, only to discover I had appendicitis. It's laughable now, but of all the times I could get appendicitis, was at 20 weeks pregnant, after a difficult time conceiving. Well they couldn't xray of course, due to the baby, but they scheduled the operation right away. No time to do any nil-by-mouth etc. It was straight down there, and whip it out. The surgeon told me bluntly, there was about a 50-50 of losing the baby at this point, and then I was whisked off to theatre, where I dropped into lala land. I suppose it was about 12-24 hours before I was really aware of what was going on, the first thing I did was run my hands over my bump. It was still there at least, but of course, the next week or two would mean being on tenterhooks.

This was definitely the lowest point in my entire life. I stayed very positive on the outside, but really deep inside, one can't help but worry. I never let it show, not after the initial tears before the op. In those early days after the op, things were a blur, when I was still unsure what would happen, I talked to the bump a lot. I told him, he had to hang on, this was going to be his biggest achievement. I asked him not to leave me, as I wouldn't get another chance, and that I loved him so dearly already. In ways I can't even begin to explain, he let me know, he had no intention of abandoning me, that we would make it through together. Thankfully, it was a happy ending, and my wonderful son is 26 now :)

Well I took the plunge and entered into the challenge.
All over the net, people are awash with this NaNo writing thingy, and when I saw a few of my Live Journal friends were taking up the cause, I was curious. I have seen it going on before, but never took much notice, but this time I did. I clicked a link on Mark's page, and arrived at where it was all happening. I liked what I read, and thought, "yeah, I can do that" (Not sure I can, but that's a whole other story)

I have been writing for more years than I care to remember, but I have mostly stuck to poetry or short prose, letters, vignettes, copy writing, even one or two novelettes. But even those took me a considerable time to write. This challenge though, to write 50k works in a month is something new. It puts one under a pressure. It isn't the usual way to write for me (and I doubt, for many writers either) to just write so much in such a short time, and not to edit. That's weird, I always edit as I go, over and over actually. It is really a strain not to cut out, alter text, change paragraphs, tweek things on the fly etc etc.. That is the biggest challenge for me.

I am not sure I will complete the task, but it will be a challenge and a good exercise. I will try me best to complete it, but even if I don't, I won't be alone in that. I read on the NaNoWriMe page, that 120,000 writers took part last time, and of those, only 20,000 finished the challenge.
Good luch to all those taking part.

Probably makes little sense, it's just strings of thoughts.

Overlooking the valley, high on the hill, the pale blue sky, littered with wispy clouds, stretch for miles and miles into the distance. The sun peeks from behind one of them, it is warm and cosy. A hint of a breeze to tousle my hair.

My thoughts are in diss-array currently. Not just today, but the past days, weeks. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something changed in my thinking pattern, or attitude to certain things. I know that sounds cryptic, but I am trying to sort thoughts, and as they are a bit jumbled, it is difficult to define them.

Well, it's not that I am unhappy, I am very happy. Things are going well, slightly hectic, but overall, nice. Why can't things stay the same?

Hmm, well, I know that's a silly question. Life moves on, we move on, times change, things change, but that usually means we change too, to adapt. I think that's the bit I am scared of.

If I am honest, I am very scared of what's around the corner. I am scared to look in case I don't like what I see. I have never been one of those forward people. Life scares me. People scare me. Change scares me.

Imagine a sudden tornado whisked you from the life you had at the moment, and dropped you down somewhere far from home, when you didn't speak the language, so you couldn't even have a conversation with people,where you had no friends, and couldn't make any, due to the language thing,  no family around you, somewhere where your whole life would be isolated and no one to talk to all day. Can you imagine such a thing? That totally freaks me out.

I think Aleksander is having a mid life crisis :D
Some of the qualities I always liked about him, his aloofness, his stand-off-ishness, his "holier-than-thou" attitude to life. He was better than the rest and took no trouble to say so. Serious mostly, and hard to read most of the time, those are things that make him, who he is. Now though, he seems to have become more relaxed and slides into the flow of our conversations, laughs and jokes around more. It's been a very strange few weeks, and I wondered if he had started on the weed (joking) It's been weird and fun, in an odd sort of way, although, he says it is just him. That can't be a bad thing, can it?

I don't know - Well, I am half and half about it.
Omg, it is different, and I am totally freaked hehe!
I just keep wondering when he will just be him again though.We are having fun and stuff, it's not that. Probably just me :)

Against the wind
We were runnin' against the wind
We were young and strong, we were runnin'
Against the wind
~Bob Seger

Nice song on my mind at the moment.

I have to admit, I don't understand the "Monday morning" mentality. Many people are grumpy on Mondays, or say that is the worst day of the week. I can only conclude, they mean, it is furthest from the weekend, otherwise, one day, is much like another.

But there is a definite charm about Friday. Friday sparkles and teases and winks at you as you emerge from Thursday night's sleep. It is altogether a most desirable ally, always spurring you on towards the weekend. Yay Friday!

Step up...

*group hug*

Sometimes when the writing dries up a bit (Not too often, thankfully) then, we need a bit of inspiration to appear from the air.
For those times, I use prompts. I have a whole box of index cards with phrases, words, quotes and pictures, and this usually gives that gentle knudge needed to keep writing. With the new webpage in full swing, I thought it may be nice to share some of those prompts, (After all, it is a poetry and writing page) so I have started adding them, so look out for them. I won't flood the page with them, rather let them build over time, like all the other content. But a few are there if you need a little inspiring thought.

I received a few of the usual probing questions from Josie  today, and I will endeavour to answer those this week :)
(Just so she knows I am not ignoring the mail)



"I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma. In the afternoon I put it back again"
~Oscar Wilde

The new webpage is alive and kicking. www.paradis.star-forge.com/
There is plenty more to be done and added, but at least it is live. It has been a lot of hard work, but a lot of fun too. Content is being added as fast as I can manage. So when you get time, wander over and take a looky, feed back would be good, for improvements etc.

For all those that asked me, yes, there is even an RSS feed now, and a search box too. Yes, I know, I spoil you!

Installed iTunes in the last days. Figured I would need it when I (soon) get the iPhone. I will need some widgets/gadets/apps, whatever they are called, which can only be got from the shop. Anyway, got it all installed ready.

I am a huge Winamp fan for my music playing, and found on previous trials of iTunes, I couldn't get on with it.
It's big, even when small. It's white background, and has no skins.

Guess I am too used to Winamp's total customizing ability, I was spoilt. Anyway, I have been trying to play a few songs in iTunes, since I had it installed anyway, but I still feel it isn't living up to Winamp's cosy feel and look. I will persevere a bit longer, mainly because iTunes has one feature that Winamp doesn't - the ability to make playlists on the fly, at a whim.
To make playlists in Winamp, you have to actually take hours adding every sony you want in the list, and saving it as a file to be loaded into Winamp. That is time consuming. So I end up playing only one massive playlist. I love Winamp dearly, and have used it since way back to it's primitive days, but the ability to make on the fly lists is very nice :)

And now, I can reveal, the new webpage, that has kept me sooo very busy for the past weeks, is now almost ready. Hopefully, it will get uploaded this coming weekend, or soon thereafter. There has been a lot of frustration and hard work, and I almost gave up on a couple of occassions, but I so much wanted to persist, as it will be a great improvement on the old site in regards to functionality.

I haven't managed to do a lot with the epic poem recently, due to the overload of other things, but I have still managed a constant stream of Haiku and shorts rolling off the production line :)

Ok, I haven't posted in a while, and it seems I am forever making excuses as to why I didn't. While it looks that way, I assure you, I am just as eager to fill these pages as ever. I am doing a lot; working on the book material, working on the new webpage design (This new page will be the best ever. I am very excited about it. Lots of new features along with the old ) and, along with gaming and real life stuff, that pretty much takes all the time.

It is the 2nd of October, yet it hardly feels it. I am still walking outside sleeveless, and the sun is still very warm and comforting. The leaves are slow to fall, only very few have left the comfort of the trees. I like this Indian Summer thing :)

I am a late owl and often sit up past the time that is good for me, mainly because, I am also an early bird. This is very unfortunate, but I can't help it. I like to go to bed late and also get up early. I have never been big on sleeping, and get an average of 6-7 hours a night. Maybe this is enough, maybe it isn't, I can't really tell. I only know, it works well for me. I have plenty of energy, am menial to people, and can function well throughout the day, so I assume I am doing fine.

The later parts of the day can sometimes be very rewarding, poetry - wise. While I have steady streams of innovation and creativity throughout the day, I find, that around the more relaxed, later parts of a day, I start to develop many ideas and work. This is the most fruitful of times for me.

Memories are very fine things, and they are a part of what you are, who you become, have been etc, but they can't change anything now. It isn't a soap opera, scripted and played out. You can change any bit of it at anytime. You can plod along the well worn path, or take a new one. Your decision. It's true, your memories may have helped you make decisions you wouldn't have otherwise made. They may have taken you along another path, than the one you were heading along, but ultimately, each day, the rest of your life starts over, and will continue to do so for as long as you live.

So many people say, they are bored. How can that be? Surely boredom is just an excuse for laziness, and not bothering to go and find things to do. Write something, read a book, learn something, cook something, walk, do a hobby, talk to someone. Heck, I can't believe people that scream about boredom. (We all get a little fed up at times, that's not the same thing. Fed up is feeling down about something, while boredom means having nothing to do, which is just not possible)

Enjoy each day with freshness. Smell the day, breathe it right into your body. Life is precious. You have one time only, why are you wasting it complaining you are bored? Each day that you get up, is one day less of your life to live.
You can never ever get that time back, believe me, you will look back and regret it sometime.

Anyone needing a hug may collect one below on the way out.

*hug*
                                                                                

I have been hiding away a bit recently, trying to get things together a bit. I have found that, more and more of my time has been eaten away with talking to people, answering mail and pms, or posting things, meaning, I wasn't getting as much quaility time for my writing and practice. I am not complaining, it is nice interacting with people, but it also means, I have been slacking with the creative work a bit.

I decided around three years ago, that I wasn't getting enough time to write, and I really wanted to take it seriously, so I allocated a set time (Usually 3 or 4 afternoons a week) where I did just that with no distractions, but as with all things, it slowly got eroded away, until now, in the last months, I hardly get 20 minutes in one block. As any of you will know, 20 minutes isn't enough time to construct even a lego tower, let alone a piece of art. I really have to get that time back, it means a lot to me.

The internet is a wonderful thing, and it enriches us greatly, but I really need to write. It is a passion I have to persue with a vengence. It is part of who I am and what I will become. We only have a short time to do the things that inspire us, whatever it may be. I have already spent too many years being idle about it, and now, as I see the years ticking by faster and faster, it is becoming more and more important.

I apologize to all the wonderful people that I communicate with for not being so avaliable lately, I am still here, just a little distracted. I am not ignoring you, I haven't gone off you, we are still friends :D

Rendezvous With Rama by Arthur C Clarke...

Rama is a metallic cylinder craft, and it enters the Solar System, approaching the Sun at great speed. The year is 2131. It is observed by Earth, and inside, seems to be what looks like the remnants of an alien culture, the first ever encountered by man. It is full of technological advances and marvels, with an artificial ecology system. The ship appears to provide evidence of some extinct civilisation, but what purpose does Rama serve, and where is it going?

Why is it here? What is it's true purpose? Who are the creators of this magnificent hollow world? Commander Norton and his team are chosen to investigate this strange phenomenon. You are about to embark on a journey with the team as they discover this world and all it's wonders. You will never forget that first awesome view inside Rama's vast interior or the first overnight stay in this strange place.
This book is gripping, and will hold your attention until the very last word. Probably the most impressive thing about this book, is that it describes the structure of the inside of rama in fascinating detail, without becoming too technical. It is both believable and mysterious. In fact, so full of mysteries that when you finish the book you have far more questions than answers.

Clarke makes you think about the alien Ramans constantly, and yet we never see one of them. An all time science fiction classic, Rendezvous with Rama won the Campbell, Hugo, Jupiter, and Nebula Awards. An absolute must whether you are a Clarke fan or not. This is one of Arthur C Clarke's finest novels.

Four books make up this saga, even though Clarke never intended to write a sequel to the first of them: Rendezvous With Rama, and the book on its own did not deserve one. He presented us with a mystery of vast magnitude. The sequels are worth reading simply because they attempt to put the mystery into human terms...

The scope of the story is so big with extraordinary revelations. I have only touched the very edge of this great saga, there is so much more to it than I can tell you in a simple review, without spoiling the wonder and awe. The four books span thousands of pages, following the characters, seeing what they do with their extraordinary, fictitious lives, that when you finally read those closing words, it is like you are leaving behind people you knew.

I recently read an interesting post about how a lot of people still don't lock their doors at night. In this crime infested world, this seems incredible and inconceivable to me that people could rest easy in their beds without securing their homes.

It is a different world from when I was a kid, when crime hardly happened at all, and people for the most part, respected the law and other people. This is the part that I think is missing now, the respect of other people, the respect of their property, the tolerance of other people.

People are far to quick to anger, whether this is a sign of our society, ie: The modern, stressful world we live in, where there is pressure to do well, earn more etc. Whether it is the consumerism thrown in our faces, or whether it is the drugs and drink, more and more people take as a normal part of their lives, I have no idea.

When I was younger, I noticed many older people tended to say things like, " it wasn't like that in my day" The odd thing is, I find myself saying such things more and more. I don't think it is because of age that people say those things, it is because, it really wasn't like that then. Yes of course crime happened. It always did, and always will, but it was never so prevalent as it is now.

In my nan's time for instance, people didn't even have locks on doors, and left the doors open all the time. They closed them when they went to bed, but they were not locked. Maybe there wasn't enough worth stealing from everyday folk then to make it worth robbing them. Or maybe people just respected other people enough to not go where they shouldn't, or take what wasn't theirs.

So at the end of the day, it still all adds up to the respect word. Making the world a better place, means teaching respect all over again. It seems many have forgotten it.

Ouch, I am not posting here as often as I should, or rather, as often as I used to. So much to do with one's time. Writing and editing, real life, games, website work etc, all take it's toll, and that's without those little relaxy things like reading and watching stuff. Oh well, I do what I can :)

Editing and working on some poems. I haven't got much of the epic done in the past week. It seems, there are right moments and wrong moments for doing that, and currently, my time is firmly fixed on Haiku and shorts. I have written so many recently, it's untrue. They are just flowing out, and it is tough trying to keep up with the typing. I have missed many poems, and bits of poems in the past, because they appeared in my head at ill-opportune moments when I had no access to writing materials.

Yes, I do keep a pad and pen near by, but circumstances dictate that it isn't always appropriate to use them. Sometimes these masterpieces form just when I about to fall asleep, or just surfacing in the morning, or when doing other personal things.

Even if it is lines, or words that marry well together, I note them down and play around with them later. I have created so many of my best works because I heard someone say something to someone, or saw a few words that sounded good together, and I needed to make a poem around them. I have whole lists of such words and married words like it.

For instance, I heard the words Bon Vivant (French for Jovial fellow) and wanted to put that in a poem. Another line is; What a tart! 
Haha, well, this one I am just finishing a poem about. When I have polished it a little more, I will post it. Needing very much to add more poems to my webpage. Hopefully it will happen this week. Probably the above mentioned one, will be one of them.

Some time ago, about three years ago I guess, while running a SIM group with a bunch of people, we had a new guy join us. Now, this group had been running several years (8 I think, at the time) we were a tight group. Not many  new members had joined us over the years, the group was formed originally by KingIvan, Wizzy, Legolasdamned, PiaBooky, RisaGrey and myself, because we liked to roleplay little scifi and fantasy "plays" In it's infancy, many others joined us, mostly by word of mouth, people who knew one of us. mainly. A few strangers joined, and became part of us, settling in nicely with our odd ways :D But after that initial start, not much new blood arrived in the group for a long time. We ended up with about 50 members, of which, probably 25 were active regulars. So overall, not bad.

Well, about three years ago, one of our members remarked that he had a real-life friend who was interested in joining us, so we invited him in and were very pleased with how easily he settled into our routine, and in a very short time, it was as if he had been there from the start. He was a natural, always joking around, always willing to help with things, always turning up for the SIMs. He was a very happy and jokey type of person, but never went too far, or annoyed anyone. He added just enough of his mix of fun -

So, one day, he suddenly stops coming to the meetings, most unlike him. He had always enjoyed them so much, and we were always pleased to see him, there were no arguments, everything was fine - Only it wasn't.

You see, Jangles had spent the six months he was with us, losing a battle with cancer. Yet he never said a word, and nothing in his manner indicated anything was wrong. The friend who brought him to the group was the only one that knew the whole story, but Jangles didn't want it getting in the way of his last few months, and swore him to secrecy. He didn't want people to feel sorry for him or pity him, he only wanted to be one of us. Although, the friend did tell us Jangles was sick, we had no idea he was dying, and those were his last moments.

Once we found out and got over the shock, we had a meeting to see how we could best remember him, and to cut a long story short, we decided to plant a virtual tree in our group forums. Then we all hung things on the branches. Things that represented how we had seen him, like smiles, happiness, humourous, loving, giving, playful, compassionate, brave etc etc. The words kept rolling out, there must have been a lot of branches on that tree.

We didn't know him long, and we didn't know him that well, but we did learn a lot from him. Ironically, the funniest joke he ever came out with was when he arrived late for one of the SIMs, he announced, "sorry I am late, I was washing my hair" Only afterwards did we realize the significance of that. Having seen his userpic, and seeing him bald, it was just assumed, like many people, it was a choice of hairstyle, only in reality, it was the chemo that told him how he could have his hair, or not. But even then, he couldn't keep from joking about it.

Anyway, it was on my mind today, just wanted to keep a reminder of the thought.

Stream of consciousness writing has long been a fav thing of mine.
The proper way to do it, is just write. The most important thing you must not use is, constructive thought. Yeah, that's right, you must not consciously think about what you are going to write, but just start. Let your mind wander, and record every thought that slides over the grey matter in your head. Don't try to understand it, don't try to organise it, and don't try to make it look pretty or clever. The whole idea is practicing the ability to express your thoughts, whatever they present themselves as.

I am doing it right now, writing this. I haven't stopped to see how it is shaping up, and I hope it will be understandable at the end, and I may even turn off at the next station, and go in another direction. But at the moment, the thought remains steady with this stream. I write a lot of poems in stream style too. I have quite a few, and they are quite pleasing to read over.

Take a word or a sentence, work on it, expand it. Add a little flavour, give it a mix, a little spice. Add some colour, leave it to grow, return to it and poke it around a bit. What does it feel like? Read it aloud, what does it sound like?

Remember something, anything will do - take no notice of me, I am of on that branch currently, I may be back in a bit, but for now the wheels are running parallel to the river.

About two miles from my home is a river, from an upstairs room, I can look into the distance and see it over the trees. Sometimes I can see a ship or two out there, sometimes sailing boats with fancy sails. I wouldn't want to sail, but I can imagine the fun they are having on this warm day. The humidity has been high, so the breeze on the river must be very nice.

I want to see a rainbow as it arcs across the sky showing off in all it's beauty.

I want to see a carpet of bluebells spreading for miles beneath the trees of the forest.

I want to sit on a river bank with pen in hand, doodling away until my pen runs out.

I want to hug a tree, like an elf from a Tolkien book, but without the pointy ears

This is a stream, a stream is like a mini river meandering through the countryside.

A rhombus and a rectangle are parallelograms, remember that.

Why are people so obsessed with looks?
Now books - I could see why people would be obsessed with books, but not looks.

pterosaurs (flying lizards) The averaged 24 feet in size, but a specimen with around 36 feet of wingspan was found and named Quetzalcoatlus, after the feathered serpent of the same name (Quetzalcoatlus northropi) What a magnificent name!
You see, I am full of things, and it isn't always bulls**t :)

Ok folks, ramble over. Take care all.

The Man In The High Castle by Philip K. Dick
I am partial to alternate history, and post-apocalyptic stories. One of the best alternate history books I have read, remains, The Man In The High Castle by Philip K. Dick. What if we looked back to 60's America, and saw it split into two sectors, half run by Nazi Germany, the other half run by the Japanese?...Well, that's the subject matter of this book, and it is a very intriguing read. Highly recommended.

Neuromancer by William Gibson
Neuromancer by William Gibson is a cyberpunk novel, about a computer hacker, and despite a lot of doom and gloom, this futuristic sci-fi novel is well worth a read. This is Gibson at his best, as he is quite at home penning futuristic sci-fi stories.

The Day Of The Triffids by John Wyndham
One of the first sci-fi books I ever read, many many years ago was, The Day Of The Triffids by John Wyndham, was the first post apocalyptic story I came across. Wyndham's novel is concerned with how humans would react to a catastrophe and how they would attempt to rebuild society. This is your classic disaster novel and should be on your shelves.

A Treasure Chest of Words

A whole lifetime
on dusty shelves.
Damp and leather
mingling together
like coffee and cake
in the local cafe.

The knowledge
bundled inside
faded jackets,
waiting to be spilled -
A treasure chest
of words.

Lionel Ritchie was singing Hello on my player, only it wasn't Lionel's voice that I heard singing it, it was my dad, mike in hand at the karaoke club, where, with a wide grin on his face, he was bellowing out the notes to the tune, and plenty of people cheering him on, including me. (He was good too) This was in the days when he was healthy, and mobile, before the big C got him. Sometimes it is impossible to stop it's progress and it runs over you like a steam train in a hurry.

I can't believe how things/he changed in those last 3 months. Even in the year prior to his death, with the aid of prescription drugs, he managed some attempt at living, but the last 3 months were hideous. In those months, he no longer resembled my dad. Not in looks or manner. He lost half his body weight, and for a 6ft 5/195cm man, that was alarming. It was an effort to get him to eat even the smallest amounts of food.

But the worst thing, was the change in his character. He lost the way, and his will. That was the worst part of all. He had always been so postive and enthusiastic about life and everything in general. And at the very end, in the last days, he knew it was coming, and he just gave up and stopped fighting. I can't ever blame him for that. He tried so hard for so long. It is so sad when you look into their eyes, and they are screaming inside, "help me, make me well again, I want to live" and you know, there is nothing you can do but sit and wait. The song was today, the death 10 years ago. Still miss you.

Another Etheree styled poem:

The poetry form, Etheree, consists of 10 lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables. 
Etheree can also be reversed and written 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 ---

Anorexia nervosa is a dirty disgusting creature that lurks around, and picks on the vunerable and those that are afraid. I am going to talk about this vile nasty thing.

Most people will think it is about young girls who don't eat enough, because they are obsessed with being thin. Well, don't believe a word of it. It can happen to anyone, any sex, and age group. Yes, young girls are more likely to be seduced by it's appeal, but I assure you, I know a couple people with this disgusting illness, and it isn't pretty at all.

You could argue, well, all they need to do is eat, and they would gain weight, and that's that. If you think that, you haven't yet Googled it, and read up on it. It's far more complex than that. It is a psychiatric illness, that is life threatening in severe cases.

Why am I telling you this?

A friend of mine is going through a tough time recently. That's an understatement, this friend is currently in hospital with a body weight of around 5 and a half stone. She has reached the very limits of her body's tolerance. To be blunt, if she doesn't eat, or they can't maintain her weight, she will die soon.

Yet the stupid, stupid thing is, she has no idea how bad it is. She still thinks she is too fat for her height and hardly eats a thing. The hospital try to make sure she eats, but she will just go to the bathroom and throw it back up at will. She just will not accept, what is glaring everyone else in the face, she is starving to death.

Now, I am told, Anorexia nervosa is a control thing. She feels in control, because she decides on how she looks and what she weighs. If nothing else is under her control in her life, at least she has control of this. That's how it plays out, but it will kill her.

In the 6 months that have passed this year, she has spent 4 of them hospitalized. What sort of life is that? And this has been going on for years and years. Without sounding rude, she looks like a stick insect. I feel sick when I see her. Her bones are almost protruding from her skin. There isn't a bit of fat on her, and she thinks she is too fat. It is so sad. What can be done? Are her friends and family supposed to just sit back and be happy that she is in control of that part of her life?

Some days are harder than I care to admit.

I am expected to cope - So I do.

I am a generally happy person, but I can't be that 24/7, even though I profess otherwise :)

It isn't just the darkness that makes one afraid.

I hate being judged.

I read a lot, but I should read more.

Being able to express things through my writing, is very important to me.


We got a cat...
In Second Life...
see him Here


Today's Haiku (Will Twitter it later) :

The heat of the day
even the cat is restless
snoozing near the fan

Born To Dream

Don't tell me not to dream,
for I am born to it -

It's where I take your smile
and wrap it tightly around me like a cloak,
keeping me warm in the coolness of the night.

It's where your words become musical
and float gently on the breeze,
and I catch them one by one in a butterfly net.

It's where I share your sunsets,
even when we are far apart,
and feel the contentment of your hand in mine.

It's where our cheeks brush,
when you whisper, "I love you" in my ear,
and I feel the warm breeze of your breath.

It's where the deepness of your eyes
offers me a view of eternity
that even the stars have not seen.

So don't tell me not to dream,
for I was born to it.