rage

A thrown up thought thickens, curdles and coagulates like cream spilt and sputtering, strewn and simmering as the wings of midnight moths, such motley miasms quiver, quiver and dissolve - as steam on the breeze, a tongue gliding by pearly whites collecting scraps of trespass, tranquilizing, seizing with Caesar's unshaken will to power at the hour of et tu brute? We fell like honourable men to sweetly coated bullets of atrition - all men with one woman in mind, all women with one man, reflected, rippling, returning eternally - acceptance of the end our only answer to death, the ultimate beginning, breaking down and disintegrating, dislodging the illusion of the one and the whole, the whole in the one. A macrocosm and the memphis mule, alone by the pool, bring me coffee or tea, i read the clouds, watch the sun, and think of Jesus. I read the clouds, and whisper: I am.

I am suffering at the moment. After the Chotto Matte performance Melbourne came into full colour and i thought for a while that i could stay here, build a life for myself, be happy and content. I remember the rush of such ecstasy dripping from the most menial of tasks, ethereal emanating from the most bland and boring company. But the energy fades. And now i am sad. And the sadness wont budge. On Monday night, after a grinding day of repressed angst and crippling anxiety, i thought i had overcome the beast - we went and saw the Necks play at the Corner and life was affirmed and despair was abated, for a little while. Sensing the quiet rage stirring, i went for a big bike ride to Brighton and back, and somewhere in Melbourne the seizure was upon me. I spent the night sulking in the dark, my limbs heavy and brittle with the fever.

They say that anger and desperation are good, motivating emotions for overcoming and transcending situations that are unsatisfactory. And so i make manouvers and confront some demons. And there are camels, perishing on my horizon. But this is not me - this is not who i am. Broken? Miserable? Terrified? This is not okay and cannot go on any longer. My hands are shaking. It is because i am anxious. It is because i have made one tentative step. I must make another. The Beach Boys play in the background.