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| And now I have another drum.
This one even bigger than the last one 
This one is a Djembe. Without really putting any effort in I can make things shake and fall apart/off of stuff.
For someone who's habitually silent and somewhat evasive this is something of a change.
Not the only change evident in my interactions with the world around me either.
A number of people have attempted to force me to "let my creative self out" or some such bullshit down through the years.
And here please bear in mind that I am not suggesting that all release of creativity from within oneself is bullshit. Merely that the poeple to which I am refering were far more interested in my displaying what they regarded as appropriate or healthy behaviour than they were in whether or not said behaviour was in fact healthy or appropriate.
It seems that the time is coming (or in fact already here) when my balance on that front has shifted. I am acting more openly in the world and, while that has a tendency to make me nervous, it seems to be a trend that's growing.
Which is interesting.
Be well.
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| I have a new drum.
Though that perhaps gives the impression that I have a collection to add a new one too.
Which I don't.
For the most part I am happy unseen and unheard.
However that most part seems to be, for the most part, behind me.
I've got a chinese flute as well. And there's a melodian being repaired for me.
I'm talking more to more people.
Dancing.
Showing myself.
And being followed.
It's all rather interesting....
I used to wonder where various things would lead me.
Increasingly I'm wondering where I'll lead them.
Not something I expected to happen but there's the folly of expectations for you.
Be well all, if well you would be.
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| I've been writing more lately.
Poetry amongst other things.
A Fair Folk Secret
Beware who would a fair folk secret seek
For close and guarded we our mysteries keep
And know you this, who would here prey,
We may do more than lead astray.
Now if friend you are, then friend we'll be.
If neighbour-like... then neighbourly.
But univited take our gold...
And dross is all you'll find you hold.
For you, my friend, are Sunday's child,
While we are children born to wyld.
Thus our gold is of dreaming born
And never meant to see the morn.
For the player that played is then mortal struck.
Now giggling fool. Not mischevious Puck.
Unpicked by sun is our moonlit thread.
All masks removed, all costumes shed.
But patience my friend, night waits at the door,
Where dross will be gold, lies will be lore,
And a gateway of dreams will let into our land
Those who our stories, in part, understand.
There we our tales, shall tell once again.
And there shall we dance in the bright shining rain.
For we'll always have music, and games we can play,
Where we sing to the night and have our own day.
Though here's a warning, for those who pay heed,
Listen not for too long else a rescue you'll need.
So come bearing truth. Come to deceive.
What each one may give, may each likewise receive.
Comments/criticism welcome.
*Edit* What's with this posting to Facebook non-sense? If I wanted to be on facebook then I would be. I don't. I haven't ticked the box that says "publish this to my facebook profile" so why does it still try and not only force me to post this to facebook but also to sign up to facebook so it can follow through on it's manic desire to mainstream my life.
FUCK OFF WITH YOUR FUCKING PREDICTIVE EFFICIENCY BULLSHIT!
Hard as it may seem to accept, some of us actually know what we want at least some of the time and are actually capable of sorting it out ourselves.
And SHOCK HORROR! Sometimes it's not to join everyone else in the biggest herd we can find.
I've been with xanga since 2002 and I'm quite happy with this thank you so very fucking much.
Sometimes what I ask for is EXACTLY what I want.
No more, no less.
And some people wonder why I'm getting the fuck out of cities.
Now I understand that such options are useful and time saving for some people (quite likely the majority of people in some cases) but, much like predictive text, they often have a homogenising effect which I find actively and uncomfortably restrictive.
And I get doubly aggravated by such things when I have these things sprung on me with a faux cheery "Look how we're improving your life! See how much we love you! You specifically though we have no idea who you are! No really we care about you. Whoever you are. Unless you don't have a bank account..." attitude.
And even more so when I am either offered no chance to opt out of this cheerful cereal box toy style fascism or, as in this case, one that simply doesn't work.
Of course this has nothing to do with the amount of Port that I've drunk tonight or the fact that I'm purging frustration from my psyche.
Be well my friends, if well you would be.
Anatye, seere i taure.
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| Greetings.
There's always a cost.
I now live somewhere very beautiful, quiet and open.
Anything resembling a shop is miles away and the plumbing in my caravan is currently on the fountain side of interesting.
It's worth it though.
My mother's death opened many doors for me.
Not least by depositing a large amount of money in my bank account. Which still makes me a little nervous.
The doors that are somewhat more dificult to deal with are the doors that have opened within me.
Another coming of age.
Another shedding of old skin.
Recently I've been working quite a lot.
Though not in any ways that the government would recognise.
There's a quote by Nietzsch that suggests that all will is the will to power. Now my memories are sketchy and post giving my copy away again I have yet to acquire another one to brush up with. But I suspect that I disagree.
I don't think all will is the will to power.
I suspect all will is power.
It's been interesting watching myself bloom.
A cold fire phoenix. Rising in the rain.
Lightning snake and storm crow.
And lo and behold there's starting to be a little more yang mixed in with my yin.
Perhaps enough that you'll get a slightly more coherent post at some point soon.
Mi i aldar tye cenuvanya.
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| Greetings once more. Tomorrow (or later today if you don't work with my "it's not tomorrow until I've slept or accepted that I'm not going to" system) I leave Lancaster for Devon. Not exactly for good. I've already arranged (well at least figured the dates of) my next visit back in about a months time. But from tomorrow I'll be a resident of somewhere that yesterday was three hundred and fifty odd miles from where I lived. This is going to be interesting  Leaving Lancaster certainly has been. My prefered method of leaving is to have someone turn to someone else three weeks later and say "You know, I haven't seen Elf for a while." Which has caused a little stryfe. But then I've had practice at letting things go. Now it appears I may need to practice being let go of. Which isn't a bridge I particularly thought I'd be worrying about crossing. Still. I suspect it's time to attempt some sleep before I start the oddyssey (how do you spell that word???) Though I'll leave tomorrow I won't arrive in Devon for around a week. I'm something of a fan of the scenic route  Be well. If well you would be. | | |
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