Can't keep awake!

Absence

Makes the heart go stronger?

There's a few reasons why I haven't written in here for so long (okay - one.  Best friend found it.  Panic.  Changed URL.  Deleted it.  Etc..).  I took the links from where they were displayed, then figured no one would read it anymore.

So, does anyone read this anymore?

If anyone responds I'll start it up.  If not - might be time to REALLY say goodbye?

Errr, I'll check back in a week/few days.  :)

Plan

·         Outfit:

Grey/black leggings

Black belt

Denim shirt – do up? (grey top under??)

Double Scarf PURPLE PURPLE

Glasses – plz  come.  must wait for post. (?)

COMBAT BOOTS FUCKER!  MUST BUY – river island

Lipstick – no?

hair - bun.

 cheaper asos bag

·         Write internship letter

·         Write to O’Halloran

·         Email Jimmy

Inferno, Purgatoria, Paradiso

I cannot sleep.  A rather problematic issue, one that I cannot change.  I can't sleep.  Does changing the sentence slightly alter this?  No.

I cannot sleep.  Instead I stay awake thinking of blog posts.  How utterly useless.  Seriously.  How absolutely fucking pointless.  What a fail.

I am awake.

Last night I had a dream;  I was gliding.  Not flying, not soaring or any other synonyms, simply gliding.  I could see below me; miles below, everything, a panoramic view of Dante's inferno.

I know, wtf right?  I could see below in perfect clarity... hell.  If we're going to use Dante's vernacular  language; L'inferno.

Do you know what I'm talking about?  Dante's inferno is a part of his poem about hell, pergatory and heaven.  To cut things shorts, it's a 13th c medieval poem about the afterlife, Dante goes on a journey with Virgil, and sees 9 concentric rings in hell.

I could see the rings, but I was not afraid.  I couldn't tell what I was gliding on, but it was something tangible.  I don't know what.  I say gliding; it was not soaring which implies ups and dows and luls in the meter, it wasn't floating which implies aimless wandering, nor was it flying which sounds solo, no, I was gliding.  I just don't know on what.  There was no Virgil with me, I was alone and I was weightless, as if you could transcend your own body.  There were no words in this, no concept I don't think of even being alive.  I wasn't afraid - I wasn't even sentient.    I was just gliding above hell - hell which uniquely resembles a giant Dart board.  Don't ask.  I don't know either.  There were the concentric rings, the core and the periphery.  I could see everything.  How fucking weird.

I can't really describe hell because I can't remember it, bear in mind I wasn't in hell but above it; a bird couldn't describe what it's like to play in a field if a bird never actually lands in one.

One thing though, with piercing clarity I remember the sky.  It was blue - not our normal sky blue, but deeply, almost painfully bright.  Not illuminous, just illuminated.  I believe there's a difference in these words.  On second thought, I think the colour is Cyan.

Blue like... I don't know, how do you describe colour?  Imagine what you want. 

Just blue; there was nothing else - no clouds, no sun/moon/stars.  Nothing, just barren sky.  It wasn't hot and it wasn't cold, it was just... still.  The sort of still, stiff, soporic, stifling air I imagine you would find in a charnel-house.  I read that term (charnel-house) in a poem once.  My favourite poem strangely enough.  I would never love a poem about sodding Daffodils, nah, not me. 

In the greynessand drizzle of one despondent

dawn unstirred by harbingersof sunbreak a vulture

perching high on brokenbone of a dead treenestled close to hismate his smoothbashed-in head, a pebbleon a stem rooted in

a dump of grossfeathers, inclined affectionatelyto hers. Yesterday they pickedthe eyes of a swollencorpse in a water-loggedtrench and ate the things in its bowel. Fullgorged they chose their roost

keeping the hollowed remnantin easy range of coldtelescopic eyes ...Strangeindeed how love in otherways so particularwill pick a corner

in that charnel-housetidy it and coil up there, perhapseven fall asleep - her face

turned to the wall!...Thus the Commandant at BelsenCamp going home forthe day with fumes ofhuman roast clingingrebelliously to his hairynostrils will stopat the wayside sweet-shopand pick up a chocolatefor his tender offspringwaiting at home for Daddy's return ...Praise bounteousprovidence if you willthat grants even an ogrea tiny glow-wormtenderness encapsulatedin icy caverns of a cruelheart or else despair

for in every germof that kindred love islodged the perpetuityof evil.
Chinua Achebe
Such a dramatic dream deserves an equally profound soundtrack; overture of Handel's Messiah anyone?  No; I like this song; there's a heart beat in it but it's also ethereal, like mortality and fiction mixed together, almost like this bullshit dream.

Post #101

Cause it's NYE tomoz innitttttttttttttttttt:

Homo homini lupus

Homo homini lupus; man to man is wolf

For he who saves one life saves the World entire  - Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 4:8 (37a)(redemptive, no?)

"we will put the Palestinians on a diet but not starve them." - Israeli government advisor, Dov Weisglass “ 

Today I fell asleep again, woke up half way through 'March of the Penguins'.  Amazing.  That is all.  They travel hundreds, literally hundreds of miles in subantarctic temperatures to protect their little eggs, huddle together, a sort of collective, homogenous mass.  I can't believe I watched a film about Penguin mating rituals and actually loved it.  They travel so far, such an immense journey.  Everything is perfectly structured, it's atavistic and just really impressive imo.  The word 'subantarctic' derives from the word 'antarctic' , which itself derives from Greek.  The Greek word for bear is 'Arctos'; the Arctic.  Likewise then, 'Antarctica' derives from Greek; Anti-Arctos; no bears.  Random fact du jour for you.

 

Anyway, this isn't about Polar bears and penguins, our Spheniscidae friends, I was just thinking about penguins; the immense difficulties they face.  This is proper motivational stuff; triumph over adversity innit.  Whatevah blad. 

 

My mums parents lives through WW2.  Once my grandmother saw a dogfight in the air between Lufwaffe pilot and an RAF one.  Can you imagine that?  I can't.  Her only brother also died, aged 16, during the war.  A child; how could he be a soldier?  God, sending children out to fight across the World.  Madness.  :\  On the other side, my mum's dad was evacuated during the war with his sister.  He was sent to Wales with a psycho bitch of a woman who locked him and his sister in a cupboard, abused them and refused to feed them properly.  His mother; my great grandmother (a woman who got married 6 times, whose husband died at the altae and she still went on the honeymoon and liked to get drunk and dress like Winston Churchill), found this out and collected my grandad and his sister and sent them to Scotland to live with some of their relatives, where he was teased mercilessly for having a preppy English accent.

My dad’s ‘rents on the other hand had their own difficulties to live with.  My grandmother got married at 15, had her first son at 16 who was taken away (against her will) to live with her husbands family. She was sickly and young, had 3 kids and an utterly lonely life (allow the past tense, she’s still alive).  Oh and should I mention my grandparents lived through El Naqba!?  ‘The catastrophe’ if you don’t know the word’; they’re Palestinians who lived through 1948 ffs.

 

Penguins cross Antarctica, 2 of my grandparents lived through WW2 and the other 2 lived through El Naqba  El Naqba; the destruction of their homeland, the change from Transjordan to Israel, the exodus of much of their family who didn’t live in Nazareth, a change in status.  Move on a few years and we have Martial law, hell, my own father was born under Martial law.  Do you know what that is?  That’s apartheid; “Military administrative government was in effect from 1949 to 1966 over some geographical areas of Israel having large Arab populations, primarily the Negev, Galilee,and the Triangle. The residents of these areas were subject to a number of controlling measures that amounted to martial law.  Permits from the military governor had to be procurred to travel more than a given distance from a person's registered place of residence, and curfew, administrative detentions, and expulsions were common.   Although the military administration was officially for geographical areas, and not people, its restrictions were seldom enforced on the Jewish residents of these areas.”

 

Imagine; they went from the masters of their land to living as third grade citizens; from the majority to the minority, fuck hundreds of years of history, we’re in control now.  :S  Imagine.  I can’t.  And to think my grandparents lived through that; they were born before Israel even existed.  Even my dad was born a third World citizen subject to Marshall law.

 

You see my point?  Homo homini lupus; no one can be crueller to humans than we are to ourselves.  Man to man is wolf, nah, man is worse than a wolf, a wolf is not vindictive.  It is not lupine behaviour (nor any animal I don’t think) to be cruel.  Meh, I’m being digressive again.  People are so cruel to each other, and people live through such fuck difficulties.  People in Gaza are starving, ‘we will put the Palestinians on a diet’.  Nice. 

 

So my overwhelming point; I need to stop moaning.  Misery may be relative tru say, but fuck it.  It’s ridiculous.  People are starving, collectively my grandparents survived World War 2 and el naqba and my dad lived through loads of Israeli-Arab wars, I think I can find less things to moan about than my hair.  On the scale of it all; important?  No.  I should really shut up.

 

Life is for living baby, stfu and start living or start dying.  That said, I'll probably still moan and bitch on here.  OHh you love me really.  Who would want this blog to be redemptive eh?

Suicidal Suicidal - what a pretty fitty word

 Suicide; comes from the Latin 'sui' - oneself, and the Latin for kill - 'cide'.  Hence, homocide,matricide, patricide, infanticide, insecticide, infanticide, regicide and so on and so forth.  Sui - in French, the word for am is 'suis'; je suis.  'je pense donc je suis'.  How very Descartes of me.

kk

Apparently there's 2 reasons why we kill ourselves, according to French Sociologist Emile Durkheim anyway.  They seem to totally contrast but bare avec me..

1) People don't feel integrated with society.

2) People feel too integrated with society.

SO, people don't feel integrated; people are lonely, they don't think they have a place in the World, they think no one loves them, no one wants them, they don't fit in.  They're the pariah, the freak no one wants to know, the fucking loser.  Yeah that's them.

Or people feel too integrated; Kamikaze pilots, suicide bombers.. or even moreso; people maybe who take the pain of the World upon them.  The World is a cruel place, if you focus on all the destitution that surrounds us you'd feel it.  If you stop being so fucking myopic and open your eyes you'll see how shit, unfair, cruel, harsh, horrible and just generally bad this planet is.  If you do that, apparently, you'll want to top yourself.  Cause who would want to live on Planet Earth, the planet of famine, destitution, poverty and fat Americans.

Durkheim also spoke alot about what is called 'anomie', look it yourself though cause it's interesting and I'm lazy.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anomie

I smell like D&G Perfume #3; L'imperatrice.  Normally my nails are red and I don't wear perfume... could this be my, anomie?

No.  Shut up. x