I can see greenly now...
Yesterday was my birthday, and if that's the way they're set to go I think I'll opt out of the anniversary scene altogether. Opt out of the ageing scene too. There were rows, holes to fall in, and the outdoor temperature was 49 degrees. 49? I didn't know they made temperatures of 49. It was unutterably mad. Archetypes abounded everywhere, too - a snake, recently run over, was coiling and uncoiling its loops in a clotted, tarry display of painful death on the road. I was being driven by a learner and in the middle of a silent fight at the time, and I felt terrible guilt for not stopping and putting it out of its misery. And then later, the weather fairies put on a flamboyantly epic thunder storm, rolling it like a present around the bowl of hills and tying it with a double rainbow just over the cliffs. If I'm looking for omens for the coming year, there were plenty to be had.
Everything in the garden is having sex, it seems, apart from me. Pairs of vast butterflies, some in the orange colour-scheme and some in the black and white, all the size of saucers, are wafting this way and that over hill and dale, joined in poetic airborne coitus. And pairs of rather odd insects with extended abdomens and compact heads have been helicoptering all over,one on top of the other, buzzcasting their ecstacy to all and sundry. Shameless. I have been wondering whether the active member of each pair is the male or the female.
Last day in the Green Kingdom today. I've been here a month. Good god! Some writing done - more than I'd hoped but less than I need. Some shaping done - which goes to show that when my head is not filled with work, I can think about plots and stuff. Insufficient attention on the latex front and just as well - for 4 weeks now the adult in me left has the child in me to just pig out unsupervised, so the sizing might need to be updated. Or I may just have to get off my arse and walk it off. Not wanting to go from here. Not wanting and not wanting and not wanting to go. One of these days I just shan't. I shall stay here and bathe in chlorophyll and become a green person. All this career stuff and nonsense. When will I grow out of it?
As I write this an advertisement on my LJ page is asking me, yes or no, whether I like Avril Lavigne. Really, in truth, who the fuck is Avril Lavigne, and who gives a monkey's toss whether I like her or not?
Everything in the garden is having sex, it seems, apart from me. Pairs of vast butterflies, some in the orange colour-scheme and some in the black and white, all the size of saucers, are wafting this way and that over hill and dale, joined in poetic airborne coitus. And pairs of rather odd insects with extended abdomens and compact heads have been helicoptering all over,one on top of the other, buzzcasting their ecstacy to all and sundry. Shameless. I have been wondering whether the active member of each pair is the male or the female.
Last day in the Green Kingdom today. I've been here a month. Good god! Some writing done - more than I'd hoped but less than I need. Some shaping done - which goes to show that when my head is not filled with work, I can think about plots and stuff. Insufficient attention on the latex front and just as well - for 4 weeks now the adult in me left has the child in me to just pig out unsupervised, so the sizing might need to be updated. Or I may just have to get off my arse and walk it off. Not wanting to go from here. Not wanting and not wanting and not wanting to go. One of these days I just shan't. I shall stay here and bathe in chlorophyll and become a green person. All this career stuff and nonsense. When will I grow out of it?
As I write this an advertisement on my LJ page is asking me, yes or no, whether I like Avril Lavigne. Really, in truth, who the fuck is Avril Lavigne, and who gives a monkey's toss whether I like her or not?