Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Fifty-Nine

took a left at the ocean, and ended up in the sand
careless, it filled my boots
sand everywhere - not as bad as you think
like washing and drying cutlery
i psyched myself up with strange sad theatrical
music
as i sat and watched some lonely people
walk their happy dogs
along the beach
the waves were loud
crashing violently
matching the easter road-tolls
in the same way that every-year
is going to be bad for bushfires
- this damn morning,
what cold fear is this?
i strip off and wrap my music
and rings
and glasses in my tshirt
protection from the harmless sand
and walk slowly towards the ocean
no need to run
no way to run
i walk slowly towards the cold violent ocean
on an isolated morning sun drenched beach
and as my feet slip into the sheet of shallow waves
i only now understand the cold challenge ahead
i walk towards another wave
and another
each one taking it's tense chill
to another level up
my body
knees
hips
stomach
chest
on an isolated beach, no-one can hear you scream
i grunt and groan like a footballer, at best
i yell as i finally face the cold truth
and submerge myself
like sand and washing and drying cutlery
it's not as bad
it's not as cold
as you think
i allow the waves to get bigger
as i wade myself out deeper
they hit me
and i lose control
wave after wave
upside down
and
inside out
i pull up my shorts from time to time
their pockets filling with water and creating a life of their own
filling their pockets and running
as far away as possible
in this cold blue jelly

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Fifty-Eight

he was riding horses - and making it look kinda freaky - i was sitting in the grass, smoking a beer back like it was summer - i was thinking about the first man to ever try and ride a horse - his friends must've been laughing - his friends must've been thinking, what the fuck is he doing? - but im here, in the grass, thinking of that guy - trying to be him - a nice balance somewhere in the midst of funny, entertaining, fun and showing off - who was it who said i seek, but i don't seek attention? - it's easy - to be a good friend is easy - make everyone feel as though they have your attention - never answer your mobile phone when you are talking to someone

sometime the bugs leave us be, and we can sit in the grass for hours - drifting in and out of a cloudy sleep - an island off iceland, where the grass is mounded softer than a sixty-dollar pillow - no bugs, no bites - she red as i listened to midnight fall across america - boats floated by, flying between the clouds of my afternoon-dreams - whites against white, with the yellow daytime fading like the photographs our grandchildren will show their younglings and describe us by means of occupations

there is no uglier word than occupation - we're living in a world where people go to awful lengths to occupy their time - it's as though they're trying to get it over with - i will never understand the guilt people try to shift onto each other for living a good life - one day i'll sleep in, and sleep in my clothes on the couch - wake up at three pee-em and open a beer with my first movements - i'll sit on the couch and watch the footy and watch my favourite movies eating nachos and drinking more beer - i'll write pretentious poetry and walk around the lake, drinking more beer - i'll kiss my girlfriend in front of friends,and i'll pat them on the back and buy them some beers and listen to their versions of life on earth - i'll stay up late listening to music and throw myself to each corner of the universe - i'll be happy - i'll be sad - i'll be miserable and depressed for no reason - and i'll be high on realising tiny little truths that i've missed so often up until now - i'll drink and write and listen to music till im droopy and hazy eyed behind a locked door - and then i'll tiptoe to bed, popping pillows and swimming in deep heavy blankets - sleeping easy and haunted by the most spectacular lucid dreams - and i'll have no guilt and i'll do it all again and i'll encourage my friends to do the same - there is no guilt behind doing what you want to do, only the fears of others trying to project it onto you - you feel guilt the same way you feel abused - it takes second party, and it's not your fault

i pick a blade of grass and hold it between two fingers - i watch it with my eyes - the small winds move it a little, in synch with the million other blades of grass that surround me - i imagine myself as a blade of grass and connect with the universe and until next time, i'll remain here - this way

floating backwards, flipping inside out of life and death - an eternity beyond the limits of human consciousness and my desire to finally be there now - i let go of the echos and melt into the source and centre of existence, ready to meet the moment that caused one

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Fifty-Seven

just because
they smoke it
it dont mean
i have to
and i dont -
but yes,
everyone thinks i do
- but i dont -
sure, i'll drink
but even then
i dont drink
as much as
people assume i do
- it would be an insult
to lady-elle to think i did
- i don't -
not like your imaginations do
- a self inflected confusion
arguing
with the word of
"God"
- god's on my side baby
god's with us
god's drinkin'
god's the last to go home
god's fare-evading with me, simon!
god's horny
and so what?
so are microbes
so were microbes
just because i sit here
with a wife
and a beautiful wife
and a job
and friends
and a self-inflected slot
into art
havent you seen my photo!?
it's of myself
of myself outside the art GALLERY
im holding my balls
and thrusting myself
towards the camera
with my balls
and a smile on my face
- how do i project myself
in-front of artist i admire?
and where do you end admiration
with obsession?
- when shall i begin to hate?
...
...
... ...
...now
it comes to the moment in whatever your consciousness allows you
to accept your reality
- smiles, and their meaning
- kisses, and their regrets
- hugs, and their hesitants
the rest left to my nature
my flow of -
i thought id lost it at six-teen!
- of words and syrups
that melt from stars
and songs
and drinks
and films
and nights
and some only friends
as we get older
scoping
- how can it work out this way
- when i bowed
- to the down and out
- out of sight
- out of mind
and i still find myself undeservedly happy
and it's well known -
undeservedly happy
undeservedly happy
undeservedly happy
...happily sad doesn't cut it
because if it did
we'd be rolling in a peaceful world
showered in WATER
imagining all the photos
burning slowly
as we shower clean
durty hair times
falling alone
with stolen beers - i assume
in a room with too much music
- how do we manage these time?
- how do you even attempt to beat
HST
"human beings are the only creatures on earth that claim a god - and the only living thing that behaves like it hasn't got one"
i slink back in my bar stool
and succumb
- i will never write any better
i read it when i was seventeen maybe
i came-about at twenty-married-nine
and nothing has changed you IDIOTS!
blank canvas - bullshit
pen and paper - burnt
life is a bubble to poke at
hole after hole after hole
nothing after nothing after nothing
and it's at this moment those
IDIOTS
say take a chance
poke
prod
make mistakes
and make them life changing
change yourself
help me - and be my friend time
nothing speaks to you like the moments you're alone
they are the words of god
but it only takes you now to realise
- no-one is going to tell you but me
you're okay
you're doing fine
your depression isn't solitary
you're never alone when you never want to be alone
and you're alone when you want to be
- either way
im thinking of you
and let's carry on
- why not?

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Fifty-Six

staring at the stars
- he is happy
to forget the cold

the sun rises
-despite his sleepy
warm bed

it's a clear blue sky
outside the doorway
- it happens

watch me dance
it's the only way
i can explain my confusion
it's the only way
you can understand me
stars and sand
where the limited
battle the infinite
where the answers
lose the questions
where i shed my life
for moments
without doubt

watch the night stars
meditating in the morning sun
- a happy life on earth

two dragonflies
pushed by the wild winds
- what a ride!

and in a million years
these waves
still crashing!

through a syrup of nerves
the boy and girl
became friends

one more friendship
- then im done
with this life

beer is best drunk
with a beard
and a smile

i think of dinosaurs
looking at the stars
through the trees

the winter breeze
chills their beer
and blows their smoke

his words are desperate
to her ears
- with every drink he slurs

leaving soon -
we must leave soon
- but no-one wants to

dark wet alley
- vomiting -
but he loves his wife

three beers
makes a genius
- so it seems

am i the only lonely
one at this bar?
- yes, it seems

the bar girl
the other side of the bar, oh!
- a wake up call

a familiar face
from the past
- too long ago to say hello

why live life?
when you can watch life?
- so fucking amazing

he sits at the bar,
deep in thought
- as though he's praying

the flower in your mind
- what a price to pay
for the sunset tonight

watching the sunset
hearing distant laughter
and thinking of heaven

lonely school girl
ignores the honks
of passing cars

so bored - until!
a portal!
another universe!

from the Corner Hotel
the beer takes the edge
as the train takes them home

beautiful power-lines
- keeping in touch
with ugly friends

think of all the stars
that shine
behind that blue sky!

a speck on a speck
on a speck
- this is your life

if i am the centre of the universe
that grain of sand
is my life!

im happy to be sad
if only she
can remain happy

in the warm sun
my leather jacket confirms
- yes, it's summer!

i find inspiration
in unusual places
- oh, drunkenness!

what would life be
without me? -
oh, beautiful death!

as the drinks toast,
trams rattle
- in the summer dusk

something isn't right
with this enjoyable life
- oh well, too late now

two shiny leather boots
remind me
of my loneliness

another writer!?
at this bar?!
what! how?

melbourne dusk
- when the phone rings
i'll ignore the ringing phone

two writers,
writing -
eye-contact

if god can read
my mind
- the joke is on me

if god can read
my mind
i understand the dusk

if god can read
my mind
the joke is on you

the beauty of
falling asleep
mid-sentence

sweet lips
spitting sour venom
- the newly-weds

the complacency
of the man
- already running late

my warm jacket
and the cold sunshine
love each other so much

a spike of excitement
awakes a dull day
- the telephone

same seat
same beer
same pub

sitting at the bar alone,
with memories
in every empty seat

my decisions
and the lack of them
led me here
to this morning
- we start drinking at 10am
after a couple of hours off
and a couple of hours sleep
- a telephone rings
so loud we already know
who it might be
- we can already guess
somebody's friend of a friend
answers it
and we listen into
the rejection of what promises to be
such a nice day
such a pleasant day
spent purely -
they say everything in moderation
i say - everything but this
friendships permanently intoxicated
with the indescribable meaning of life
tiny fragments of friendship
littered over weekends
by the carelessness
of a mellow-drunk
such friendly handwriting
read out-loud!
by someone we don't know
- but it's easy to get to know them
as we're popping pillows
and blankets
keeping warm
and staying cool
with cold beers
and fog -
a natural fog that calms us
protects us
and keeps us happy
and hidden
all those things we said
all those things we felt
thought
all those things we'll never know
-
we know them
we thought them
we felt them
we said them
-
boredom is drowned with
booze and laughter
the sunshine is shunned
and shadowed
by laziness
and greasy sun-cream
the northern?
we can hear the stereo better
from here -
what do you want to hear?
let's play it!
and shake our heads in amazement
as the blinds
on the windows of opportunity
and perfection
are closed
as we gaze out
and sense the faint taste
of realisation
of our own truths
of our own reality
- but live together
as friends, chosen
by one-another
- within a massive network
of people choosing people
of friends choosing friends
to spend time with
- just this once


its sadder now
a pillow away
from understanding
our little world
the two of us
amongst it all
the pillow world
against worlds
an observation
of a lonely man
a good man
lost mail
damp leaves
sticking to
young girls
setting suns
feeling sleepy
warm soup
a mother's smile
and some thick blankets
an uncle's beer breath
with some cheek kisses
sinking further
into friendship
tight hugs
unexpected
winks
that talk
in their sleep
and say most amazing things
at once
describable
and forgotten
wasted in dreams
we live for
so tiny
so distant
so insignificant
so warm
so sleepy


please listen to track #4 of the () sigur ros album (Njósnavélin)

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Fifty-Five

i invest my time
thinking about
the butterfly effect

sleeping with the devil
is the only way
to fuck with god

im scared to think
so i'll keep talking
im scared to talk
so i'll keep thinking
- eventually i won't have to do either

the diary of the sane man
stumbled upon
by the mad-man

chain smoking incense sticks

a break through
in thought -
and in cloud

every piece of music
is played in synch
with something
that's taking place
somewhere

all my floating day-dreams,
aimless and carefree
- clouded by dreamers

at the end of the world
the sun-set
will finally get it's due recognition

spend the night alone -
or waste it
with someone else

the violin
plays
for everyone

soon this whole city
will be nothing but
one big speed-hump

guide-dogs
walk themselves

if you only live once
you only die once
- but you'll never be happy

walking home from work
the work colleague
sees me drinking alone

national parks
are like
Mother Nature's breast implants

bearded man
- it's okay for you
to drink alone

beautiful stranger
- you can pass through
my life anytime

the hairdresser
performs his craft
- slightly depressed

the hard part
is getting people
to save me
without getting people
to help me

the hard part is
saving people
without helping them

my beer sweats warm
- eavesdropping the chatter-girls,
i wear the sunglasses

some things in life
are no trouble -
pull up a seat sometime

the secret friendship
goes unnoticed
across the table-chatter of friends

treat them mean,
keep them keep -
and pretend you're a decent guy

my heart's a joke -
my mind is laughing,
but my soul doesn't get it

i sit at this bar alone,
with memories
in every empty seat

now i have a future,
the pretty girls
seem so serious

i drink alone
i think alone
- i write for you

the mona lisa
was such
a poser

the mona lisa
drank alone

the fear of offending
is the great burden
art must overcome

life is crowded
i am busy
- art is solitary

to be misunderstood
is a sign that
you're on the right path



if life is perfect,
you're fooling yourself
if everything is fucked,
sit down and have a drink
if you're content,
go to bed - you have to work tomorrow

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Fifty-Four

tears don’t scare me – nothing can change the human mind from unraveling after the butterfly pin-prick of self-analysis pushes wave after wave of sorrow and misery into the surrounding souls that gather around in care and kindness – they fall like rusty cans of beans in an over-grown suburban backyard – dangerous and frail – and as the sun screams in the face of planet earth, flake music tinkerbells as shards of rust disintegrate into the dry soil, hardened by barefooted cricket games played by children despite the heat and the acquired joys of relaxation that sleep somewhere around the corner, in the last pocket of shade anywhere in the world – or so it seems

dust chokes as you fight through another bout of laughter – another near death experience to bring your friendships into perspective, another point of view laid to rest – another answer forgotten forever, to the questions there were none – a scratch on the arm, a drawing of blood to demonstrate life imitating art – the dust absorbs it – sun-cream seeps into the pores of our skin as sweat waits for the air to someday cool – a sand attack somewhere behind the laughter of our neighbours backyard bbq – the moment escapes our memories – I retreat into oblivion, unsure whether they can still see me surrounded by such mellow and relaxed trees and people – my breath could stop, yet I wouldn’t die – this moment would be painted, and melted into the ever flowing gush of eternity – a single moment - they will have to trust me that it did actually take place – the perfect laziness confuses the giddy sun-drunkeness that pulls us deeper into the blinding-bliss, as we remain complete oblivious living some sort of lucid-day-dream

what are the things that will never change? – the warmth of sleep – the fatigue of sand – the electric-tingles of human contact - the loud silence of trying not to wake a loved one

nothing in life is the same, much like electricity - summer fades in time to a winter warmer than winter and our friends never agree - our deaths live in poetry, but our travels die in haiku - sleep wonders about the ghosts that haunt the spare-bedrooms of our rented houses - no sound that resonates against any air of heat or atmosphere like the echo of an empty beer can - loud enough that only you can hear it from eye-distance away - sure, why not? - toss and smash that bottle empty bottle of four dollar champagne to crash and smash somewhere along the eastern-train-line - the sun is bothering someone else by now - some other family is talking and sharing stories and drinking controlably - let yourself go

in the back seat you fear the sunburn that is out of your control - subtle and pathetic positions of your limbs may make a difference, you hope - yet your blood boils cold as they pull over as it's a perfect day for a swim - the cold beers are warm now - you drink them anyway, safe in the knowledge you're with like-minded friends, and some alcoholic hitch-hikers

his denim was warm and loose - you couldn't find a man in them - pulling on them felt like an endless dream-time in which you declared your name and that somehow made a difference to the person sleeping next to you - who is writing down your sleep-talks? - a boy at the death-shadows of his soon-to-be idol's idol - another fucking beach! - is it really such a small world? or are we so pathetically scared and huddled together, afraid and scared to be alone?

i lose her - and for moments i am a solitary man standing in a field - the same dust - the same dry grass - some-where in the distance someone is fucking someone else over - grains of dust and sand move over my boots without my knowledge - until i take the time to realise where i am, and notice what i am doing...

a dust-warm beer - sweaty man, i suppose - but clean, and friendly to the mothers

i show affection in a way only those i show affection to know about

romance is the seed to heartbreak - though the silly girls love it as it makes them feel their on a winner - the guys like it as it's an excuse to actually show emotion and care without copping too much abuse from their generalised and stereotypical friends - and he can always fall back on the excuse that he only acted that way in order to get her into bed - which will happen a lot

but romance at it's core is a lie - at least to the vast majority of us - it's playing a role we weren't meant to play - it's telling someone elses story - it's life imitating bubble-gum movies staring guys with nauseating but adorable hair and confusion, and quirky girls stoned on their independence - it makes us feel we're on the right track, living the good life that's spewed-out in the cinemas like hand soap

people go out on their own and tell us they're looking for themselves, and tell us about their spirituality - but it's a lie - a friend and i were walking along the streets of old delhi when we spotted an obvious backpacker sitting on a ledge, looking into the sunset, soaking up the sounds and smells and bullshit - "another pretentious, self-indulgent blog in the making" my friend pointed out to me - (this observation was one of the highlights of my trip) - in reality, people go out on their own looking for themselves only to find themselves in a different reality, but not the romantic one, thinking "now what?" - (it's only when you realise that now-nothing, can you move on, and from their you won't want to talk to anyone about anything) - it's an act and it's romantic and it's false

simple maths - we are all individuals - we're all supposed to be anyway - but we're not - why? - because people subscribe to these romantic notions of love and life that because they think that's the way it is - that's what love is - that's what spirituality is - that's what a girlfriend is - that's what a boyfriend is - that's what individuality and freedom is - that's what affection is - that's happiness and that;s the good life - if we are all individuals, then these romantic ideas cannot be adopted and surely cannot fit perfectly with all of us

i show affection in a way only those i show affection to know about

furthermore, if we're all individuals then therefore every single relationship between two or more people has to be unique and individual also - and if this is the case, romance between a boy and a girl is meaningless - a waste of time - an act acting like someone you're not - couples will sign up to romantic relationships only to find a vastly different reality

a couple in love spend their honeymoon on a romote beach in thailand, drinking cocktails over candlelit dinners without a care in the world - that doesn't mean that the couple drinking bottled water in the alleyways of india surrounded by shit and feces aren't in love - they are - it's just not your romantic vision of what a honeymoon is

the best piece of advice a couple can discover is this: do what you want - both of you - and then you'll both be happy, because you're both happy

but you won't be happy having to force someone to be someone they're not, and that's what romance does - chocolates and flowers on valentines day? - fuck off - breakfast in bed? - it's uncomfortable and to put it simply, inconvenient - dinner and a movie? - easily forgettable - long walks on the beach? - repetitive - a dvd with a bottle wine on the couch? - a waste of time

you can't make someone do something they don't want to do naturally for a long period of time - and, why would you want to?

romance may be nice and cosey for now, but it's a sown seed of heartbreak - in enforcing it, or part-taking in it, you're tainting your relationship into something it wouldn't be if left alone to develop naturally - which is something true, honest, believable, unique and ultimately - real