BY hmmaah

04/01 Direct Link
i often wonder what the end of our world will be like. everything ends. everything has to break, or pulvarize, or explode, implode; return to original form. entropy...the last question, that whole thing. i reckon it will be a fiery end, like the dinosaurs. a big astroid impact. chaos. anarchy. the human race in its last twisted convulsions while all that it has built burns and falls. disappears forever. wasted. its the best way to go really. unannounced and in style. surprising everyone around you and leaving a dust trail that will have them guessing for millions of years. [ends]
04/02 Direct Link
its strange - i've been very "aware" of my heart lately. physically i mean. i can feel it sitting inside my chest - like an object removed from the rest of my body. thump thump. maybe its trying to tell me something. the rest of my organs are not complaining. just sort of there - i suppose i'd notice if they'd stop being there. it makes me cringe a little - being so aware of my heart - makes me feel like covering it with my hands and pressing on it hard. disturbing. body parts are such bizarre things. [ends]
04/03 Direct Link
think of your elbow – your poor neglected elbow. how often do we do this? an elbow simply does what it is supposed to without ever really being noticed or thought of at all really. days and weeks can go by. you lean, it supports. until you hurt it, maybe, or see a movie where someone has their elbow badly burnt or chafed. then all of a sudden its there. your elbow. "here i am!" i always secretly enjoy this moment, secretly enjoy the pain. ...its like rediscovering a small part of yourself. "hello elbow - long time no see!" [ends]
04/04 Direct Link
all around me noise people who are screaming and crying and stamping on the phone what do they think?! i will go mad this is just too much! how i long for the absolute wonderful and deep silence. the quiet of my old flat – that peace - high ceilings, old-bumpy wallpaper slightly rotting window-frames. the sun gently filtering through the tree just outside, it swaying ever so nicely in the wind, thick carpets, those carpets you sink into slightly. you know those carpets? real soft. and most importantly silence. peace. tiny little miracles with enough space to "be heard!" [ends]
04/05 Direct Link
met this dutch girl - she was fresh!! sparkling, she was. we chatted. she ran out saying good luck wish you well! sping arrived. what makes someone so fresh? a shower, brushing-of-the-teeth. no. it was in her smile, eyes. and the way she said "hi" and "bye" and "yes i'm just here and there and everywhere doing everything and nothing at all whatesoever". what did she have for breakfast?! shelfishly i wonder - could i be so fresh? i don't ever feel that way. maybe thats the key - the moment you're not paying attention….freshhhh. i love that word. [ends]
04/06 Direct Link
the day started so well! early at work, typing, up and down, dropping things off on different floors simultaneously, breakfast, in avid pressing buttons, like some high-powered speed-boat, like an f1 race car. leaving people in their tracks, bewildered and toungues out ... but after lunch it all sort of collapsed. all my body could think of was sleeping, and all my mind could think of was sex. a debilitating condition, i'm telling you. but also a lovely combination. lazy sex is the best thing there is. except for make-up sex maybe. yeah, make-up sex is also pretty good. [ends]
04/07 Direct Link
an unfinished thought: "sometimes when you loose, you really win." i have no thoughts on this. heard it somewhere. liked the way it sounded. thought to myself: hey, that makes sense, even though it doesn't make any sense at all. i can only think of situations where i've "lost" (period) or "won" (basta). does this situation really ever happen? and does one ever win, but really loose? not feel AS THOUGH having won, mind you, but actually won! in fact, does it ever happen that someone wins or looses, while ultimately not really moving in either direction at all? [ends]
04/08 Direct Link
what a terrible thing! to have a fight with a friend...well, i can't even really call this a fight. i'm not entirely sure WHAT to call this...a stalemate. a situation created out of misunderstanding and paranoia. someone says THIS, and then you attach THAT to it automatically in your head and so in the end you interpret what was said as SO AND SO. and then your head tries to analyse it all, put it in perspective. and in the end you are so confused you'll say anything just get out of it all. and BOOM...the boogy-man got you. [ends]
04/09 Direct Link
i wonder what would have happened to the world if a particular type of bird would have become sentient, all those millions of years ago, say the parrot, instead of humans. i'd love to get a think tank of clever people together to brainstorm, and then publish the results. would cities be tree-bound? would there be airports (why bother, right?) what kind of God would they worship? what would be their equivalent of nike? and what sort of restaurants would they go to? would they have pop idols? and keep primative humans in little cages for singing and talking? [ends]
04/10 Direct Link
i roasted a chicken this morning, with a friend of mine. well, actually, the chicken had been pre-roasted; we just re-heated it in her oven old gas oven with real flames. outside the sun was out, shining, on flowers and happy people, first day of spring, little bees saying hi to little flowers after all those cold months of lonely separation. the world was sparkling. but we missed it. because in the oven, the beautiful aroma, the soft fluffing of skin and fat, the licking dancing flames, this lovely golden brown chicken. hmmmm...we filmed ourselves pouring gravy over it. [ends]
04/11 Direct Link
a never ending flow, intake of information, analysation, interpretation, regurgitation, evaluation, quick like breath, attack by all senses, millions of little inputs coming from everywhere going to the same place for processing. moving in all directions at equal speed but at the same time not really going anywhere, never anywhere at once, always searching for that other place, for that other person, that other moment, never a break or a rest of a moment to "be" but always already moved on, left without me, i'm chasing, running, out of breath, drewling, sweating, keeping up, but two steps behind forever. [ends]
04/12 Direct Link
a poem for the sun: shine, shine, shine, bright yellow and dark red. you give us warmth, colours, and keep us fed. you shine so brightly on this world, in a lovely way, every day, on the fields, the big piles of hay, and on the tops of cars i've seen you stark, so brightly, also shimmering off of water, and the many leaves in the park. without you all that is beautiful wouldn't have been. all that is ugly and dark too, we would have never seen. all the moments one can imagine, happy or sad or melancholy. [ends]
04/13 Direct Link
a friend of mine has a car... its one of those ford focus things.... bright red... clean... shiny... and it has a new-car-smell... we went for a drive the other day... out of london... into the countryside... rolling hills... green fields... little village highstreets and flushed healthy cheeks. england is such a beautiful place. an amazing thing happened. en she turned on her indicator for the first time i discovered the most perfect "created" sound ever!! a sound so beautiful, so unnaturally abrupt, and gentle... like the soft touch of a finger on your neck... made my skin bumpy. [ends]
04/14 Direct Link
i just realized that i typed the word god with a capital "g" in one of my earlier entries without even thinking about it. insignificant it seems, but i never ever use capital letters. it means nothing of course, this capital letter, but made me wonder. does the word "god" still refer to someone we could talk to, reach out to. a singular being. can "God" still be considered a name? isn't it becoming more like a brand? a marketing tool? a global advertising campaign? not for a product or service, but for a ticket "in" at any cost. [ends]
04/15 Direct Link
marijne: "being creative" is a direction, not a point. don't wait - just start taking gentle little steps. as long as you're moving in any direction you're doing good. easy does it. don't be afraid of anything. take moments to laugh and frolic, especially when you haven't got time. ask me to help with your reposts so you have more time, then try one of two things: either do a parody (marta's powerpuff atom - copy of a vw beetle ad) or collaborate with me on a new idea we come up with together. you can do it baby. [ends]
04/16 Direct Link
snowhite has blood on her. its on her throat, running down to her bosom, its also on her skirt, and on bamby, who is sitting at her foot looking up admiringly. the blood is thick, caked, drying into the paint and plastic. but she doesn’t move. despite the pain she moves not a muscle. stares downwards dreamily, mouth slightly open, a little smile on her face. or are my eyes fooling me? she has hope in her eyes. not a hope like we know it, a hope for a payrise, or an expensive christmas present. but hope for life. [ends]
04/17 Direct Link
i remember when i was a kid i went to a computer show with my moms boyfriend and i saw this keyboard. it was bright red and had green buttons and all kinds of effects and it was one of those keyboard you can hold in your hands like a guitar you know i really wanted one. really really badly. so badly i could feel it in my stomach and it was making my heart pump so fast!! it seemed like my life would be over if i didn’t get one. like tomorrow wouldn’t come and and and… silly. [ends]
04/18 Direct Link
i like to pretend my stomach is a drum-set sometimes. i just realized this while sitting thinking on the edge of my bed. the stomach is probably the softest part of the body, not in terms of skin-softness, but in terms of bouncyness and pudgyness. its nice when you’re playing a song that has a very discinct rhythm and a good groove to it. i use my hands to hit my stomach (gently of course) to the beat of the music. then i do little variations on the rhythm, which sounds really cool because the sound your stomach makes… [ends]
04/19 Direct Link
two old cowboys standing in a dusty street, leather boots worn out by the rain and sun, legs shaky from standing, and wind blowing sand into their reddened squinting eyes, so it looks like they’re both crying a little. but there is fire in their voice, and powder in their guns, still safely tucked away in a holster but ready at any moment to reach into each other’s aged bodies and suck out the life that still lives and breathes there. they argue excitedly, screeching voices from swollen, tired vocal-cords. curses and morbid promises. villagers pass by and laugh. [ends]
04/20 Direct Link
i was having a drink earlier at the white horse just behind carnaby street. with some of my friends. the sun was out and soho felt happy, fresh, alive. at one point marta noticed this ragged pigeon sitting outside a first-floor apartment window, in a flower-basket, staring down at the drinking crowd curiously and with quite some intensity. black beady eyes. i imagined to myself that he was the pigeon king, because so he seemed, imperious, regal, and very serious. he sat on his makeshift throne, not merely observing, but judging, condemning. the winged giver and taker of life. [ends]
04/21 Direct Link
the first memory i have. saying goodbye to my nanny, when leaving africa. i was four and we'd been living in swaziland for most of my insignificant little life by then. it was a hot and bright day, and she was a big warm african woman. i think i felt a little at a loss as to how to handle this (my first goodbye). hugging her was an all-devouring frightening experience - i just sort of disappeared into her arms and bosom. she gave my sister and me a little wallet decorated with beads, or shells. a wonderful memory. [ends]
04/22 Direct Link
its fun to watch people's gestures, when they talk. hands move back and forth, up and down, the gestures they make don’t really seem to make sense when you study them. body language is a strange thing - seems like the messages the brain sends to our hands have been watered down and half-forgotten by the time they get down there. it is a remnant of our ancestors, who used hands and facial expressions as much as sound in order to communicate (they had very limited vocal-cords). what a strange thought! the world must have been a lively place. [ends]
04/23 Direct Link
it is very late and i can not sleep... i think its a bad idea to write late at night... when the mind is free to wander... when there are no distractions... the darkness, and the silence... the insistent humming of traffic nearby. and soft far away sounds we don’t hear during the day but which seep in from the walls when we all quiet down. these things… they give my mind the freedom... it needs to develop evil little schemes.... evil little schemes to haunt me and tease me... it is very late and I can not sleep. [ends]
04/24 Direct Link
what is it about a bed that makes me feel so safe? so far removed from my daily life? from the problems and threats. hiding under the warm covers of my bed, from reality with its many heads. why does my bed make me so courageous? full of hope? i have fought with mosters! have cast fear into the hearts of my fears... laughed until my belly hurt... cried until my cheeks were warm, red and puffy... i have travelled the universe... all in my bed. late at night. imagining things... its a terrible thing... what a wonderful thing. [ends]
04/25 Direct Link
liza liza liza liza liza… was leafing through a dutch fairy-tail book my sister gave me last year. found a story which i remember reading a long time ago. did i already tell you? my mind forgets these things... is that a bad thing? i can not help it... the story is beautiful... so simple... so gentle... i wonder what i will think tomorrow morning... will i still think of the story the same way? or is it just now? will you like it? or will you not see what i saw tonight? i forgot i love fairy tails. [ends]
04/26 Direct Link
chapter one: once upon a time there was a tiny little bumblebee living happily in a tiny little patch of forest, flying around with his tiny little wings, and generally going about his business with a smile and whistle. he didn't know much about the outside world. it made him feel very small. he did know that there was more than the tree to the left and the patch of grass and flowers next the pond. he knew there was even more than the forest, and the forest already seemed immensely big! but what and why he wasn't sure. [continues]
04/27 Direct Link
chapter two: he would talk about it a lot with his best friend oak, who was probably one of the cleverest beings our little friend had ever met. and oak was old too! beetle had once said oak had been there since before the sun - a scary thought! oak knew everything there was to know, and the two friends would sit up until all hours of the night and talk. about really complicated things, like where the stars come from, and also very simple things - things a little more easy to understand - like honey for example. [continues]
04/28 Direct Link
chapter three: early one morning our winged friend was buzzing through the forest, thinking ahead at the meeting between him and buttercup. his little heart was furiously beating inside his chest, and he was wearing his best wings, his hair combed back. he always had a hard time figuring out what buttercup might be thinking. And of course she never said a word, which didn’t help. it made him a little insecure. lost in thought, speeding past trees and shrubs and friends, he suddenly, surprisingly, found himself stuck inside something red and hairy, and realized he had stopped moving. [continues]
04/29 Direct Link
chapter four: fox - where are you off to in such a hurry, furry? bumblebee - i'm going to ask buttercup if she would let me take some of her pollen. fox - hey, seize the day! sounds like you gots yourself a plan, little man! bumblebee - any advice? (figuring that if fox didn't know, nobody would.) fox - with a beautiful flower like her, you must smell as sweet as honey, yes sir! bumblebee - thats it? fox - thats the key, little bee! well, its been cozy, but I gots to mozy! and off he went. [continues]
04/30 Direct Link
chapter five: flying onwards towards his goal bumblebee soon passed a group of rather loud ferns. by nature ferns are disruptive creatures, and generally like to stir things up a little. but our friend had found that they were actually really nice once you took the time to get to know them. and being generally and always up for a chat, as most creatures usually have something surprising or interesting to say, so thought he, the little bee turned around in midflight, landed softly on one of the leaves lower to the ground, and folded up his wings neatly. [continues]