this is it, it unfolds

it's 5am.
somehow, i haven't slept yet.

i wrote the fifth song,
it's called 'less heartbeat'.

good(night/morning?)

because

you belong to no one
you're so easy to be around


going back to perth tomorrow night.
i don't really want to. but i really need to work all this out.
i need some sort of re so lu ti on .

tomorrow i am going looking for a 2nd hand copy of the Diary of Anne Frank and maybe the Qu'ran.

haven't written the fifth song yet
but i will.

freedoms of delusion (&beginbroken)

so
much
baggage.

physical, emotional, mental, spiritual


the fourth song:


every stone dragging, heavier and heavier
my eyes are drooping.
my heart is sagging
my mouth is aching with the weighty words i'm carrying.

they are unspoken.
but my heart is taking its time
to begin breaking
to begin broken
and ready to be fixed again.

not by some lover
or an old and oldest friend
my heart is ageing
while i watch, impatient

it's getting to be too much
to take it all on board
to remember each and every syllable
of each and every silent word

and with each an every day
i gather more and more
and i bury myself
and i hide and i hoard
records and books and new knitted jumpers
with each new day i hide a new wonder
but i pull off the scabs
it itches, it's infected
i have never allowed myself a chance to be reflected

in some quiet river flowing through a city full of life and dreams
instead i'm packed into a box that is bursting at the seams
with things i don't need

oh i am so afraid
i am scared to death
of opening my wings
and stretching out my claws
of releasing this held breath
these lines have become so stale and settled in my mouth

i close my eyes
i must let them float
from me
from me
from me
from me
from me

morning

i woke up at 12:37am. it's now 2:40am. i fell asleep at 5:30 in the afternoon and no one woke me up. so now i am wide awake and i already wrote a song and i'm not tired.
grr.

though i do love this time of morning. i might force myself to nap for another 2 hours then get up at 5 and do some uni homework.

hmmmmmm.
goodnight/morning

trying to find some beautiful place to get lost

i'm hopefully going to newtown tomorrow and spending lots of money on books and vinyls and awesome clothes and presents for people. that is my intention anyway.
also, i have been writing a song every night since i've been here... that makes 2 songs now. it's fun and something i haven't really tried before, forcibly dragging a tune and some words out of my head. but it's good. plus, last night me and my sister were quite crunk so words seemed to work better together than usual. whether they still work well now that i am sober is another question entirely.
anyway, an excerpt from the song i wrote last night:

find the limit
pushitpushit
find the nihilistic
pushitpushit
find the neon
pushitpushit
light the neuron
pushitpushit
find the narcissist
pushhimpushhim
find the lark
pushhimpushhim
light the dark
o pushit
find the ark(arc)
pushitpushit

kill each other some more please

, and born again

things are so lush and large here

long plane flight. lots of gameboy. diane cluck. boogiepop phantom soundtrack. radiohead.
about 10 minutes of sleep. bad aeroplane food. bad aeroplane beer.
but i am here, and needing to reboot. preparing myself for the "stay here for this&this&this&this reason" and all the reasons make sense but my mind was made up before i left thankyou i appreciateitbut
it is my home.

for now, anyway.

hmm.

doing my best to counterfeit some blues

i want it to be raining
i am leaving for sydney at 4:15 this afternoon
QF 566 terminal 2 reference: ZK4BI3
and the sea rushes in, into my world

post-artist's statement;

...for no reason
[insert:]
the left wrist only, of course, as the right is tattooed and precious



also:

"your last thought was of your mother. the way you used to help her hang out the washing, in the afternoon sun. you would hand her pegs, and she would tell you to put on a hat. she would be wearing her pale blue cotton hat and her black wayfarer sunglasses. you would tell her about your day at school, and how nobody there notices or cares for you. how you must walk around the yard at lunchtime and find somewhere for you and your imagination to eat lunch. she would say, don't worry honey, they don't matter. your mummy loves you. your slow sister loves you. your stepbrothers probably love you too. your stepdad loves you, even though he hits you sometimes if you don't go to sleep at night and stay up too late reading. your dad loves you, even though he is thousands of kilometres away. and your sisters over east love you. but your mummy loves you, i can tell you that first hand.
you know that if he could he would come down from the clouds and bring you toast. and drive you around in his beaten up car and feed you cigarettes and scotch. and you would pass out in his car next to him. and it would be okay, and your heart would still beat beat beat beat beat without realizing this whole time his didn't. but that doesn't matter. he would say, they don't matter. i love you. i care about you. but you will have to go home and push on, starfish. i can't keep you here in my car forever, watching the city lights glowdeathpollution from above. you must zigzag your way back down, slowly, but surely. i'll see you sometime later.
your last thought was of your mother, and the way you used to help her hang out the washing. you would hand her pegs, and tell her about your day at school. and she would say, they don't matter. i love you. i love you. i love you."

the bodies obtained, the bodies obtained

where will it end?

all you do is talk

your lucky words don't bleed































but i do

learn to swim!

sometimes i get really excited about the end of the world.
all that destruction. i mean, ultimate, epic destruction... possibly the most beautiful thing i could ever imagine.
maybe i've been listening to too much Tool.

...(no such thing)


it's days like this, clear blue skies, warmth, a pleasant breeze, that make me want to see ash falling from the sky. preferably a black sky.
that happened once. i was living in the hills a few years ago and there was a huge fire near my boyfriend of the time's house. literally just down the road. and there were these huge rock quarries in the middle of the bush that burnt down that we always used to walk through... a couple of days after the fires i was there, and we went for a walk through the then dead bush. the sky was dark and in parts a deep red. ash was slowly falling on our heads and eyelashes. everything was completely blackened, except the rock walls of the quarry. and i sat in there and looked up for a while. everything was so still and perfect and beautiful and dead.

i guess that's when i started admiring the destruction of things. i kinda hate it too, though. i hate the way the majority of the world hate it. i hate the way people get miserable if it rains. the way a 'nice day' can only be a sunny one. i guess it's just how they're brought up to think.

sometimes i just want a huge fire to rage through this part of the world. destroy every material thing i have. reduced to ashes and twisted plasticglassmetal.

hmmm.

but of course, even after a fire things begin to grow again. obviously if it killed any animals or anything they wouldn't grow back, but the plant life does... and eventually more animals show up. but the apocalypse... human life would be over. beautiful, utterly beautiful.

sometimes i wish i held that destructive power

againagagain

hard-hitting
the smoke has gotten stuck in my jaws
it's bubbling back there, and aching
and i kinda wish i had stayed

where i could wander off into the night safely
and before you went to bed you would notice me gone
but they wouldn't know

so i will
fuck it
i think i will just disappear anyway
i don't want to listen to you fucking
i don't want to see the smiles on your faces or hear how exhausted you are
i can't be fucked forcing myself to laugh anymore

it's getting to the point where i am afraid i will end up like him
just stuck in this windowless room this dark greypainted brick
only being consoled by myself
stuck in the sickly sweet syrup of everyone else's happiness
stuck in the glue that sticks everyone else's hearts to wood
a layer of varnish, you're done
shiny as the back of the cyborg eyes

so why is it that i constantly listen for people walking past my window, only a few metres between us
the dead grass and black concrete and then me
and i hear a laugh a dog bark - a reminder that
they can see in my window and they could just decide then and there to throw a brick
or shoot me through the whitemesh
and i would disappear into the carpet, a drying scatterstain

the skin peels back, more ache than sting
and the skin dries and forms snowlikeflakes
also disappearing into carpetflesh

all i need is someone to hold my head and watch me as my eyes roll back
as my skin buckles and tears
as my fingers shiver one by one by one by

deepnight

i could dissolve

just as long as i stop expanding

i arrived here in the middle of a dream. the walls were just thin enough for my




i just woke up; i'm not sure what i'm doing here now. like falling asleep
and waking upside down.
i used to somehow make my way to the other end of the bed during the night
i'd wake feeling so disorientated.
that's how i feel now.
my mind is struggling, still groggy, for a reason why i am in this position.
everything looks so foreign from this angle.

i would collapse now, if i wasn't already sitting down.
all these nerve endings and sinews and hair follicles are hardly worth
however much you were prepared to pay.

i wish i felt human.

something make me
a few beaded lines rise up
but i can see them and they don't look like they belong to me
even though i know
and i felt it

and instantly the body reacts
but not my body

i go and pollute myself
againagagainagain

acoughagainaloss

acloseafurther
away

my words become nightmares in themeslves they confuse even me
and you will not come to talk to me
and i know you can see but you can't be fucked
me, less so

somenightsoon i will just sink into the sheets and disappear

beat

now that I've calmed down
my heart beats so steady
you could set your watch by my
beat beat beat beat beat

the tape takes. a new song

i can't keep this a secret for long
it's been haunting me since you dissolved
don't let it out, don't breathe in
now i have been where you have been

cause this is the end of the day
the tape takes the shivers away

and we will walk through these twisting streets
our ghosts will sing with us to ears that unfurl
with each note you hid behind your jaws
i'll pull them out, i'll pull you out

cause this is the end of the world
your heart will unfold like a paper boat

and this is the way it was planned
the way it was planned

'cause love's such an old fashioned word
and love dares us to change our way of
caring about ourselves
this is our last dance
this is ourselves
under pressure
pressure
pressure

your heart will unfold like a paper boat

my lips have nothing to do with my head

sometimes comprehensible phrases escape my lips, or so i am told.
i've been waiting around in my queen-sized bed, the frame is made out of cold dark cast-iron.
i am empty, waiting to be filled again.
it's not a negative thing.

and now there are people, their voices are seeping through my hair and down into my throat. they are sitting outside my window and the smoke drifts into my room and puts my stomach on edge.
i feel my muscles tensing involuntarily.

okay, they are gone now.
i had a kitten here, only yesterday. he was beautiful and i miss him very much. we had to give him away.
he would fend off my loneliness. he was small and soft and warm and bright.

i am unravelling, and i will be knitted back together sometime soon i hope.
into a scarf, or a jumper. winter's on its way.

sleep well,

desiredyou.

, it's late.
my eyes are already starting to close by themselves
i rethink. if anything, it is early...

and it's about at this point in time that i begin to miss

it was about this morning

half awake on the bus just as i close my eyes again
(it certainly makes for more of a detached day)
you come into my head
or at least, what i think you would look like if i ever indeed got to see you
and you are strangely attractive
in all your glorified story
i think you are just what i need.
i am beginning to really miss

i am

currently in the throes of one last look at the wonder

the walls unfold.
like a tale of two tongues twisting
black or blistered

(it's about at this point ................ )

i have smalldreams
of riding into the sunset and looking back
on a fiery discourse:
how we have all the time in the world but the world has no time
no need for it
with or without
the world will still exist in neither future nor past

please, now
do something drastic
scare me
i want to be scared to death of you. intimidated of you. excitedofyou. desiredyou.

my mind wonders
every dead tree could very well be
humanashskindirt
the bark is not
charcoalitisskinhumanskin
akin to bonesdustbones

dust to


ofyou