Thursday, July 28, 2005

Walking home

I've just noticed how it feels to plant my feet on the ground, and I mean I noticed it for the first time. (I've only been walking for about 41 years. Talk about slow...) The thing is, once you notice it, it seems weird. As long as you stand in one spot, your feet feel heavy and stuck to the ground. You can’t move them without effort; you have to use muscles to separate yourself from the earth.

The scientific explanation for this might involve gravity. But another way of looking at it (one I’ve just made up) is that the earth is holding onto our feet; it holds us until we break away. I like this explanation. Suddenly it feels like you’re home, wherever your feet are.

And following on from this, it seems feasible that where people sit or sleep on the ground - where they have a physical bond with the earth, not only through the soles of their feet or boots or shoes, but through other parts of their bodies as well - it seems likely they might feel more at home on this earth than the rest of us.

Too hippy-trippy, or does this make sense?

Saturday, July 23, 2005

The key to happiness

This is me being a creek. And here's the thing, reader: this afternoon when I took this picture I was so damn happy. I'd been sitting on a rock in the sun, and stopped listening to all the noise in my head (the endless yapping, whingeing, whining) and listened instead to the creek.

And oh! The joy! The quiet! The stillness! The sun, the breeze, the water over the rocks...

So I raced home thinking that all these weeks of having nothing to say were over. I'm back! I've discovered the key to happiness: just shut the fuck up and stop whining! So easy! So effective! You Too Can Be Happy!

You can see what's coming, can't you... I spent about two hours trying to write this fucking post, telling you how fucking happy I am, and the whole aggravating process of this fucking process makes me so fucking unhappy I'm now ready to KILL someone! ARGHHH!!

Honest to God. What is there to do but laugh? Life's a shit and then you die. Blah de blah fucking blah.

I'll cheer up. I'll be back. Well hell, I AM back. Just really fucking shitty.


Sigh... Reader? Really, truly, seriously now: I hope you're well. I can't see past the end of my nose when this self-centredness closes in, but you're out there somewhere and thank God for that. Go, you.