Not often I ...

Not often I update twice in one evening...but currently watching a programme about all the Peace marches that took place over the weekend.Here in London the guest of honour was Rev. Jesse Jackson. Now there's a guy of peace. He used to work alongside Dr King in the 60's and watching the pictures I'm sure I wasn't the only one who had a sense of flashback. The sheer numbers of people involved, in so many cities and countries around the World. They also spotlighted on a Gulf War Veteran. The guy was moved to tears by the day, and his presence there was driven by everything that he had seen and experienced 12 years ago.Yep a definite sense of deja vu here. All that was missing was Joan Baez ...(ask your parents!!!)As is so often the case in things like this there are arguments from all sides but will bombing Iraq really change the situation there? More innocent people will die and Saddam will just go to ground like he did last time. How can you punish a nation for the actions of their leader - especially when in their recent 'elections' there was only one name on the ballot paper? and yes I use the word 'election' and not election because the whole thing was a farce.I'm sure there will be people who disagree with me, who say that nuking Iraq is the only way to go but there is a real groundswell of opion against this and I only hope that our Prime Minister will listen to the voice of the common man and stop brown-nosing to Bush.Yes remove Saddam but surely there are enough covert forces around the world in varying countries for this to be achieved some other way?and by the way has anyone else noticed that whilst all this attention and focus is on Iraq that North Korea are quietly building up their nuclear weapons and pointing them at their neighbours...?Am I naieve in my viewpoint? Oh I expect so but hey I am open to discussion. Its not as if this is something that is going to go away.

Not often I ...

Not often I update twice in one evening...but currently watching a programme about all the Peace marches that took place over the weekend.Here in London the guest of honour was Rev. Jesse Jackson. Now there's a guy of peace. He used to work alongside Dr King in the 60's and watching the pictures I'm sure I wasn't the only one who had a sense of flashback. The sheer numbers of people involved, in so many cities and countries around the World. They also spotlighted on a Gulf War Veteran. The guy was moved to tears by the day, and his presence there was driven by everything that he had seen and experienced 12 years ago.Yep a definite sense of deja vu here. All that was missing was Joan Baez ...(ask your parents!!!)As is so often the case in things like this there are arguments from all sides but will bombing Iraq really change the situation there? More innocent people will die and Saddam will just go to ground like he did last time. How can you punish a nation for the actions of their leader - especially when in their recent 'elections' there was only one name on the ballot paper? and yes I use the word 'election' and not election because the whole thing was a farce.I'm sure there will be people who disagree with me, who say that nuking Iraq is the only way to go but there is a real groundswell of opion against this and I only hope that our Prime Minister will listen to the voice of the common man and stop brown-nosing to Bush.Yes remove Saddam but surely there are enough covert forces around the world in varying countries for this to be achieved some other way?and by the way has anyone else noticed that whilst all this attention and focus is on Iraq that North Korea are quietly building up their nuclear weapons and pointing them at their neighbours...?Am I naieve in my viewpoint? Oh I expect so but hey I am open to discussion. Its not as if this is something that is going to go away.

bottled emotions?

Got to thinking today about how I see certain events in my life like a row of small, antique, coloured glass bottles. You know the type, the kind you expect to see in some dusty old shop covered with cobwebs and dust. How each bottle has its own shape, feel and when you life the stopper smell.One is a bright yellow and smells of freshly cut summer grass. One is a deep purple, the light plays through it and when you open it it smells of lavender and dark, wild nights.I have an orange one which is the memory of my time in my first flat. It smells of patchouli and musk.I started to write a poem about all these musings but forgot to life it onto a disc before I left work...I'll post it up tomorrow if I remember to retrieve it.But I was wondering whether anyone else has little bottles liek this, sitting on the shelves of their souls. Some that you open frequently and remember the good times and others that will forver remain sealed - the time they have within them one that you would rather never recollect and is better if it remains locked away. A time that you have moved on from and have no wish to revisit. (I have some of them hidden away at the back as well. Not times that I am ashamed of but times I have lived through - like serious family illness, times of sorrow and heartache - times that I am glad have passed.)Anyway just my thoughts...interested to here what others think though.On a lighter note...found this on Lamia's site and liked it. Yep its yet *another* test and whilst I usually just roll my eyes I liked this one.I think its probably about 80% true but with only three questions to go on its probably a bit limiting...You are a descriptive writer. An avid reader ofRobert Frost, perhaps, you LOVE to use flowerywords and use the paper and pen as your canvasand paintbrush. You prefer to paint a mentalimage rather than simply toy around withpeople's minds. A very inspired person, youlove to be in nature and usually are a veryoutdoorsy type of person. A writer with anatural green thumb, perhaps? What's YOUR Writing Style? brought to you by Quizilla

thought you might find this interesting...

A little bit more on TGOED that I've just come across...'...As the angels fall they are transformed from human forms to insects, scorpions, and birds in midair. Those that reach the earth become various beasts (animals), and among the lowest are the toads and other reptilian forms falling into pools of water. Some become demons or devils. One becomes Lucifer himself, represented as an owl peering out of a dark hole in a thatched roofed cave dwelling. Thus, Bosch saw the beasts and birds of the earth as creatures of the evil, emissaries of Satan. ...'

been shopping again...*vwg*

more clothes for the bois...http://www.fetishtees.com/logolist.htmlpersonal faves...*ahem*http://www.fetishtees.com/tspages/532.htmlhttp://www.fetishtees.com/tspages/548.htmlNow who do we know who likes wearing t-shirts with wording on them I wonder...*whistles*Sorry, I know I am meant to be writing but sometimes surfing is just so much more fun.It *did* start off as a research browse. Quite how I ended up looking at fetish clothing I have absolutely no idea...

needles and fruit.

Went to the osteopath tonight.Now usually the idea of a fully grown man pressing all his weight on top of your body equates with one thing only but in this instance it meant that he was rocking back and forth on top of me trying to get one of my lumber verterae to click back into place.I knew I would have to have some work done as I've put my poor back through a lot over the past few months but the muscle surrounding the joint was so tense that he couldn't get it to budge and I had to have acupuncture in order to loosen it up. More ouch! but considering that over the years I have *volunterily* had various parts of my antomony pierced I guess acupuncture should be a walk in the park by comparision.Anyway the upshot is that what should have been a routine six-monthly check up became a major session and I've got to go back next week so that he can actually do the work he intended to do today.Oh well it keeps me functioning in an upright position so it is all worth it in the end.Now on to the topic of the day. Pomegrantes. In particular Pomegrantes as represented in the work of Bosch.For those of you who never never seen the whole TGOED picture go here...http://athena.english.vt.edu/~baugh/bosch/D-C-Fr-Zoom.htmThis is the centre panel of the three and the one that features said fruit down in the bottom left hand corner. If you look *really* closely you can see the pearls.Other than finding out a while back that the pearls tumbling out of it represent the souls of fallen angels (not an unreasonable assumption given that this part of the tripych shows Creation given over to the 'sins of the flesh' AFTER the fall of Adam and Eve) I've also done some more digging around.This of course links back to references to pomegrantes in biblical scriptures. The fruit is mentioned many times. (Its classed as a 'tropical' fruit and so would have been an actual native fruit in Palestine)The Oxford English Dictionary refers to it as 'many seeded apple' so it might even have been a pomegrante that Eve ate from as I'm not sure that apples are indiginous to that region - although it WAS the graden of Eden containing EVERY seed bearing fruit. But maybe a pomegrante was what the writers of the Scriptures saw when they envisioned an apple.Reliefs of it are mentioned as adorning the temple in Jeremiah and the priests robes in Exodus. So it was evidently held in great esteem and with great import.Hence of course its appearance in Bosch's imagery given how he was so fascinated, can I say obsessed, with religious icons and symbolism.I also looked for any interpretations of pomegrantes in dreams but sadly came up empty handed.As for pearls, again they have Biblical references...'pearls before swine' etc that is do not throw that which is holy before swines.Therefore if pearls are holy then to aline them with fallen, but still holy, angels would also fit.Lastly to tie it all back in with SG. I'm pretty certain that this then leads to ToP - re-listen to the words carefully...'we twist and turn where angels burn...' Angels burning in a hell we call Earth? 'fallen soliders = fallen angels?????Maybe I'm trying to read too much into it but one of them at least - and my money is on it being Darren simply because of his interest in the supernatural, imagery, meaning and, I hate to say it cos its sounds snobby, but the fact that he went onto higher education and might well, as I suggested in 'Stay 19', been exposed to his work via his Uni studies - is familiar with the painting and the ideas surrounding it.Or maybe someone just mentioned to them in passing one day *shrugs*But it obviously meant enough to them/caught their imaginations enough to merit a picture on the inside of their debut album. And for an adapted version of the title of painting to become the name of their debut tour.By the way if anyone has a copy of the black and white covered album and can confirm what exactly is depicted in the inside shot I'd be very interested to know. I gave my copy to my sister when I 'upgraded' to TFOED CD.So...seeing connections that just aren't there? maybe. but I am always intrigued to make connection and learn from whence authors/singers/playwrights get their ideas and inspiration from.ok...that's enough for one day.Class dimissed.But my research goes on...

gahhhhhh...

okay...*this* one for the DivaIgnore the ghastly guy modelling it and just use those over-active imaginatiosn that I know you all have - and don't try to deny it either, this is me you are talking to remember... ;)http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=2910683723&category=1467alternatively I could just get some liquid latex paint and 'clothe' him myself...but of course that would entail him shaving...gahhhhhhh, more naughty images...*vwg*right, I think I should go now before this gets out of hand or maybe it already has...

giggles...

yeah bored...muses have decided to take an extended tea break so am browsing ebay...found this and not only is it an *ahem* interesting item but I can't work out who it would look best on...the wording is *DEFINATELY* Brian but the colour and style is more Daniel or Stef...neither of whom really suit the wording...maybe Daniel incredibly tongue in cheek and feeling particularly ballsy...as for the diva himself...nah...not his colour...and Beanie...somehow its just not him...http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=2810115524&category=313*goes off to hunt down her muses and steal their teapot*

giggles...

yeah bored...muses have decided to take an extended tea break so am browsing ebay...found this and not only is it an *ahem* interesting item but I can't work out who it would look best on...the wording is *DEFINATELY* Brian but the colour and style is more Daniel or Stef...neither of whom really suit the wording...maybe Daniel incredibly tongue in cheek and feeling particularly ballsy...as for the diva himself...nah...not his colour...and Beanie...somehow its just not him...http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=2810115524&category=313*goes off to hunt down her muses and steal their teapot*

teehee...

...just watching a investigation into the coffee market and guess who comes out as the villans...that's right everybody's favourite...they have just called 'Starbucks' the McDonalds of the cofee world and this is something I have been saying for *years*I have to be absolutely dying of thirst before I will set foot in one of them and then I have to be dragged kicking and screaming.(Not that I actually drink coffee...with me its hot chocolate)So when, I wonder, will their biggest fan wake up and smell, well smell the coffee!!!Starbucks = nasty, greedy, money grabbing, world dominating business...boo hiss all round...there are so many individual, one off coffee shops around why go into something as sterile and bland as a Starbucks...there you go - rant of the day.

oh dear, barely a week in and I'm running out of things to put in the title box!

still feeling good although my tummy is playing up but I know what has caused it today.I overran in a meeting and ducked out to get something to eat.got a pasty from a bake shop. asked for mushroom, thought I got mushroom but got halfway through eating it and realised it was in fact CHICKEN and mushroom...Urghhh! Stopped eating it but the damage was already done.just in case anyone is wondering what happens when you - albeit inadvertently - eat meat after being veggie for nearly fourteen years, this is it...your body gets out of the habit of digesting meat and can't do it. The result is kinda not nice... - I'll leave you to fill in the blanks... *g*to swing from the sublime to the ridiculous, make that downright outrageous. was surfing ebay earlier and happened to browse onto 'tickets' Whoa! I brought a ticket for a now sold out gig about two weeks ago, the minute I knew they were on sale there I was credit card and mouse in hand.now I am seeing them being offered for sale at up tp DOUBLE the face value. Fine I suppose if you really *really* want to go and didn't make it through in time but what guarentee do you have that they aren't forgeries?some people really will capitalise on anything.I suppose it was only a matter of time before the touts went the way of the rest of us and hopped online. *sighs*Third subject change...Here is the next part (19) of 'Stay'...see what you think...Disclaimed as ever. Disclaimer in my user profile.Its all fiction people.Nineteen Burning… Christmas followed hotly on the tail on their trip back to Brisbane - quite literally. The temperature shot up to its usual summer high and Darren, never one for the heat, spent the majority of the two days holiday bemoaning the lack of air-conditioning in their tiny flat and the lack of breeze in the air outside.'Can't you magic up some rain or something?' he asked, flopping onto the couch and raising a dramatic hand to try and fan his face.'It doesn't work like that and you know it.' Daniel laughed.'Well it should.' Darren moved around listlessly trying to find a position that would at least afford him some semblance of comfort. 'Can't you just 'phone home' and get whoever is in control of the weather to send a little cloud to Sydney. Just a teeny weeny fluffy little white one…pleeeeeeease.' He turned and smiled pleadingly at Daniel who was no longer laughing but rather looking out of the window sadly.'I don't have any contact with anyone…' he gazed upwards, '…you know.''None at all.''Nope. It was one of the conditions of me being here. If I wanted to live amongst mortals then as far as possible I was to be a mortal.''Apart form the mind manipulation and healing powers then.'Daniel shrugged. 'Somethings are still me even though I now have a corporeal body.''But no… 'phone home'…?''No, Doze, no 'phone home'Darren appeared to consider this for a while whilst Daniel just continued to stare out of the window at the, not surprisingly given the date, pretty much deserted streets below.He hadn't given much thought to it apart from during the odd moment of homesickness and longing, when he felt too burdened by the restrictions of flesh and bone and longed for the freedom that his spiritual form gave him.It wasn't as if he ever wished to be back there, there was so much here to hold his attention and fascinate him and he had Darren to fill the hole in his soul where love and devotion resided. Why would he want to be there when he could be here…stuck in a stuffy, over hot flat with a whining, childish man. Why indeed?Gradually his smile returned.Darren peeled himself off of the sofa and came to stand beside him.'That makes you a pearl.' He proclaimed out of nowhere.Daniel quirked his head at him, knowing there had to be more behind that comment then that one statement but temporarily failing to see it.'A pearl?''Something we did at uni…hang on.'He disappeared into the bedroom and Daniel could see him knelt on the floor rummaging about under the bed, no doubt for one of the many boxes that lived there. Boxes which were nearly all full of Darren's possessions and had never quite made it as far as being unpacked. Mainly because of the lack of space in their residence and because of the sheer volume of stuff that he had deemed 'essential' when they moved down here.When he emerged, cursing as he hit his head on the underside of the frame, he had in his hand a book which he then brought through and, flicking over a couple of pages, found what he was looking for.'See…?'Daniel took the book from him and sat down crossed legged on the floor. What Darren was showing him was a triptych painting by a 15th Century Dutch Surrealist painter well known for his obsession with creatures of fantasy, half human, half animal or demon.Sitting behind him and leaning his chin on his shoulder Darren pointed to the bottom left corner of the main panel. Being a reprint in a book meant that the definition wasn't brilliant and Daniel had to really look and still he didn't see what Darren was getting at.'See the pomegranate there?''Yes.' Daniel saw a pinkish sphere but wouldn't have known that it was meant to be a fruit if he hadn't been told.'And see what is spilling out of it?'Daniel smiled. Darren was obviously very excited about whatever it was he was trying to explain.'Seeds?' he hazarded.Darren's hands left the book and wound themselves around Daniel's body. 'No. They are pearls.''Pearls?' Daniel let the book drop into his lap and leant back into the embrace. 'Enlighten me Oh Great One.'Darren dropped a light kiss on the side of Daniel's neck.'Pearls represent the fallen souls of angels who remain trapped within the mud of the material world. Imprisoned by their bodies and their flesh, they somehow manage to remain spiritually alive. The religion that Bosch was interested in referred to those souls as The Living Ones.''And that's how you see me?''Uh-huh.''Ah. Well I'm hardly a Fallen One. I left voluntarily not because I got kicked out.''But you did fall didn't you?'Daniel remembered his unceremonious entry into this world and nodded. 'Flat on my arse.'Darren giggled. 'Ouch!''That's one way of putting it.''So do angels get kicked out then?'As always when Darren asked questions of this nature Daniel hesitated. He wanted to be open and honest with him but there were some things that just went beyond the grasp of even the most open of human minds.Finally he settled on replying. 'It has been known. After all the being you know as Lucifer was an angel before he grew too…power hungry…and had to be banished.'Darren rubbed his nose in Daniel's hair. 'Hard to think of you and him being cut from the same cloth so to speak.''Well I'm only a junior angel, a member of the order of Shemhamphorae. He was one of the Archangels, the highest order you can have. Right up there with Gabe and Mike.'Darren chortled and Daniel felt it as hot breath on his skin. 'Sorry.''It caused great sadness especially when others decided to follow him. The terror he has reeked since…' Daniel paused. Just the memory alone of all the suffering and horror one fallen angel had managed to create through the minds and actions of men was enough to bring an unbidden tear to his eye. Scenes of helpless children being wrenched from their parents, columns of smoke rising above the silver birched Tatra Mountains, a young girl running down a dirt track the skin on her back falling away in burning strips…A fingertip brushed gently over his cheek, collecting the shed tear. His body was hugged tightly.'Sssh now, can't have tears from my pearl.'Daniel took the hands that were around him and held them in his own. 'I'm ok. Its just sometimes the sorrow gets too overwhelming to comprehend - even for an angel.''But its Christmas, a time for rejoicing, goodwill to all men an' all that.'Daniel shook his head. 'That was the theory. Christmas was meant to sort everything out, to put things back the way they had been but the evil in men's hearts was just too deeply rooted. It didn't change a thing except to get a good man killed.'From the silence that descended Daniel knew he had gone too far. Darren was right. Christmas was a time for rejoicing, for happiness.'Come.' He stood up.'Wha???''Let's go see if an ice-cream won't cool you down.'

feeling a bit better...

thanks for all your well wishes yesterday. I feel a bit better today. managed to go all day without throwing up which was nice. now started on a process of elimination to find out what is causing all this hassle.anyway, enough of my whinging.the tidy up continues apace and here is another little offering from under the depths of the cobwebs in my virtual attic.its angst angst angst all the way in this one. in fact it requires a death warning.(shows how old it is as I haven't killed any of my characters off for what seems like agessss...am I losing my touch I wonder?)it was originally written for a friend and inspired after hearing the song by Loretta McKinnett.As always my disclaimer applies. Please check my user profile if you are unsure what it is.Dante's Prayer 'Cast your eyes on the ocean,cast your soul to the sea,when dark nights seems endless,please remember me.' This isn't how it was meant to end. Me standing on a cliff at midnight, the swollen full moon hanging low and clear in the sky. A small plastic urn clutched tightly to my chest.You always knew that I would do anything for you, I guess that's why you choose me to carry out your final wishes.I never even knew you were ill. None of us did. You kept it hidden so well. Dark glasses in interviews, make up on stage.It wasn't until you collapsed on the set of a video shoot that there was any indication that something was wrong and by then it was too late.If I live to be a hundred I shall never forget that flight out to see you, the longest twelve hours of my life. The loneliest too.All the time just praying that I would make it in time.And I did…just.I made in time to look for one last time into your eyes, so ravaged by your illness yet still burning bright when they alighted on me.No words were needed. You were unable to speak anyway. But since when have we needed words to convey what we are thinking, what we wanted to say?I didn't need words to show how much I was grieving for you. My silence and my tears showed that more than adequately. The same tears that now come silent and unbidden as I gaze out the inky black of the night, hear the crashing of the waves far below. The waves of the ocean that you loved so much.Never one for the sun but give you a full moon and a myriad of stars and you would wax lyrical until the sunrise stole them away from you.'I want to see the ocean one last time.' You managed to scrawl on the notepad you used for communicating. Your mother sighed, knowing that it was impossible but I knew what you meant and simply nodded.Others were quick to point out the injustice of it being your voicebox that was so affected the worse but to me the injustice was that you were being taken from us at all. I would have gladly given you my vocal chords if it meant that you would have been here beside me tonight. I would have happily lived the rest of my days in silence if it would have meant that I was able to spend the rest of my days with you.I'm done with regrets, the 'what ifs' and the 'maybes.' The 'if-only-I-had-told-you-sooners' you knew, at the end you knew and that was all that mattered.My tears aren't tears of sorrow, they are tears of joy. Joy that I can perform this one last act of friendship for you, of love. Not a love that anyone could define and put in a box. No, what we had, have, the bond that binds us goes beyond definitions, deeper.Sighing I remove the lid of the urn, reach inside, let the contents run through my fingers. Morbid you say? Nah, this is your hair, your eyes, your skin, your body but not you. Not your soul that's somewhere else now, somewhere happy, somewhere peaceful, somewhere where it is at rest and it is also here inside of me, in my heart, in my every waking thought. It always has been and always will be.Taking a handful I draw my arm back and fling the ashes as far out to sea as I can manage. The night breeze picking them up and carrying them along with it. Out over the cliff, out over the sea.I repeat the process several times, each time watching as you are carried this way and that, becoming part of the atmosphere, the air, the night.'I'll always be here.' You wrote, pointing to my heart and I knew that if you could speak you would be doing your lamest E.T. impression. 'and I here,' I said touching your own frail body, placing my hand on your chest, feeling your weak heartbeat through the thin material of your 'Star Wars' PJs. You just smiled. 'always.'Then you gave a small sigh, inaudible but felt, and an alarm sounded on one of the many monitors they had you hooked up to.I would have looked after you, cared for you if only you had told me, let me, but in the end all I could do was bend over, place a gentle kiss on your forehead and shake my head at the nurses as they came rushing in. 'He's DNR.'Smiling I turn the now empty urn upside down, half wishing that I had kept just a trace of you back but why would I need to do that?I only have to look up at the moon, cast my eyes upon the ocean and there you'll be.There'll you always be and one day I'll be there too with you and we can pick up where we left off, brothers, friends and who knows maybe even lovers.

Its been a rough week...

and an even rougher weekend...guess the stream of consciousness that follows is just me needing to vent a little...(after all this journal is as much for my benefit as anyone elses...) so welcome to my world...You never notice your body shutting down. It just happens gradually.One day you find an angry red rash covering your neck and shoulders - you put it down to a change in washing powder.After a week or two it cleasrs up then the palms of your hands become really dry and start peeling - new liquid soap in the washroom at work?The constant throwing up? - food poisioning.Headaches and dizziness? - too long in front of a VDU.Everything can be explained, everything has a rational reason.but what is really happening is bit by bit your body is protesting, refusing to go on.Always feeling exhausted, every day a struggle just to rise from your bed and crawl into work. No energy, no concentration. Your back starts to ache. Its an old injury playing up, telling you its time to go to the osteopath again but the osteopath is expensive so you put it off for as long as possible. Until one day you can barely stand up - until you are having to lay in bed each night with a hot water bottle on your back, whincing each time you change position, trying desparately to find one that at least makes you semi-comfortable.Its not all in your mind.Its all in your body.A routine establishes itself...you eat and then an hour later you throw up. You feel better. Your stomach is empty therefore no more quessiness. But after a while the lack of digested nourishment means that you feel hungry and you're feeling better anyway so you eat.You learn to eat bland food that doesn't burn too much on the way back up. You time your meals so that you will be within reach of a bathroom or at least a grass verge in an hours time.For the time between throwing up and giving in to that desparate gnaw that directs you towards the kitchen, you feel fine, you feel good. You can almost function for what passes for a normal human being.The windows are there and you learn to use them. Eat, feel crap, throw up, function, eat.Its a viscious circle and it becomes your life.Sorry...and ignore all this if you want but I am just beginning to feel fed up with it all. Actually I've gone beyond fed up and have now moved into the 'coping' zone...I guess if it continues next week as well then I should go to the doctor but the last thing I want is to be signed off sick...I have three major projects going live in the next month.Like I said...desert island anyone...preferrably one with room service! *g**screams* all I want is to feel well...is that too much to ask?I would take painkillers but I can't seem to keep them down :