tales from an ordinary world

2001-03-01

So I finally yanked old Hank Williams out of my CD player, replacing him with this Tobin Sprout CD that I'd picked up at the wonderfully named "Slow Boat Records" in Wellington.

I'd forgotten how much I liked It's like soul man, but I guess I've forgotten a lot of things lately as I try to see some kind of future beyond the next few months, after another batch of engagement parties and weddings. I'll have to stop randomly spending money, but then, I'm always supposed to stop that. Maybe watching all these people doing the Responsible Adult thing will help me focus a bit, if I don't end up running away screaming.

Now listening to :

• Carnival Boy, by Tobin Sprout.

2001-03-04

She's got a little room, with a view of some trees and the visitor's carpark. The usual collection of ailments. Plenty of time, but where does it all go ?

2001-03-05

I understand now
that you didn't want to explain
the full extent of your tragedy
but I hope you'll accept
my sympathy.

I'm sorry.

2001-03-06

look how they watch him
behind his back
pointing and talking

the endless amusement
"what colour next time ?"
as if they'd never seen
someone like this

the perils
of being a novelty
eh ?

2001-03-06b

"run for the shadows
in these golden years"
David Bowie

A man in his generic work clothing walks down the street, past tall buildings tall grey buildings, with small windows. It's all looking rather ominous.

overhead, a plane flies low, across the street, at a particular angle that looks good on film.

Somewhere close by in an alley, a small dog aimlessly snuffles around in some rubbish. A girl skips rope, watching the dog.

A voice-over starts up, the kind of voice that sounds like it wants to tell you how much of a better life you'll have if you'll just hand your money over to some anonymous company or other. But this time, the voice just reads out random numbers, between 1 and 100.

The participants walk, snuffle and skip onwards, waiting for their number to come up...

2001-03-06c

I'm going
he told her
I've gotta go
down to the pier
I'm going to wait
and see if my ship comes in
or maybe
I'll swim out to meet it

there were tears
before bedtime
she wouldn't let go
she wasn't finished with him
no
not yet
I had so many plans

but what else
can you do
when your ship
won't come in ?

2001-03-07

A building full of unhappy people, each unhappy in their own particular way, to borrow that old Tolstoy adage. And they're all feeling particularly unhappy at different times of the day.

But it's a quiet evening, now. I've got a copy of The Wire and some work-related research material to read, some mp3's from Epitonic to fill the room, and a few shirts to iron. Tomorrow can wait.

2001-03-08

Lebanese Semolina Cake with Mango Fool, indeed. The world of dark restaurants created in old banks, with nice dark brown wood and simple but nice decor. All of it seemed so foreign to the rest of my existence - too tired to feel like going out much on the weekends, to places like this. I don't belong here, but I like it anyway.

In any case, to honour International Women's Day, I was thinking about Shirin Neshat's artwork, and other, hopefully "good" thoughts...

2001-03-09

I'd never seen the moon rise so fast before, over the hills and far away.

2001-03-10

"we don't know anything
you don't know anything
I don't know anything
about love.
The Magnetic Fields.

It was another wedding, one of many, but it was a nice one, it all seemed to run just fine (but then, the guests rarely see all the behind-the-scenes panicking). He looked like the kind of guy who should be getting married, looking good in a suit and tie and a smile. A bottle of red in my gut, and the long ride home from Geelong, and I'm tired.

2001-03-12

Amazingly, I managed to live up to a promise, and cooked breakfast in bed, even though it's a month after her birthday, and we'd kept forgetting to buy all the stuff she wanted. It didn't feel self-sacrificing enough in the end, like I should've made more of an effort, like there should've been some kind of endurance required so that I'd feel like I was really really really being useful. But it was still a good thing. I hope.

2001-03-14

An evening of beer and stories. How one guy was on a tram full of japanese tourists, and two girls asked him if he minded them having their photo taken with him. "You look like a student" they said. Tales of ex-co-workers with odd traits and weird luck. And then there was the famous Mexican border story...

2001-03-15

"well we know where we're going
but we don't know where we've been"
Talking Heads.

Memories stolen, borrowed, or something. I don't remember doing that. It was a dream, and she was following me through building foyers and around street corners, and I was worrying that she'd catch up with me, and I'd have to know what to say. I woke up, feeling more frightened than I expected. And when I thought about it, I was scared of the other one in the dream too, the way she acted like it used to be, and I couldn't work out when it was all going it turn nasty, but I knew it would. Pleasure turning into pain.

I don't want to go to that place again.

2001-03-16

I'm not au fait on funeral protocol - I don't know if I should go (I hardly knew him after all, but then, I guess the reason one might turn up to these things is as a sign of support for the family member that one does know well), or if I should just keep away and convey sympathy in some other awkward way.

I don't know what to do, and I'm scared of making the wrong decision. Nothing feels right. It's the second time in a week and a half but I can't panic and avoid doing something real about it, like last time.

2001-03-17

she says, can't you hear the city that's hidden in there ?
it's just another mile...
The Church.

We got to the hip, inner-city cafe that has wonderful corn bread (among other things), but it was full, so we wandered around for a while, coming back and joining the group of people waiting for a Table, the most hallowed of objects, at least for the time being. And eventually, we got to sit by the window. The rain and wind raged outside, people hurrying off to somewhere or other, somebody parking a huge car carelessly in the side street, almost blocking anybody who wanted to get past. A woman with her hands full of little things had to squat down in the side street to try and light her cigarette. The musical instrument shop across the street was finishing its stocktake sale, but I didn't get around to going - I have enough other objects I've bought but never used...Upstairs, also across the street, were some prices for flights to various South American destinations. Inside, the other patrons talked over the slightly "doof"-y music, meeting, kissing, departing, chatting, and generally looking better dressed and like they belonged here - they looked generally at ease.

2001-03-18

Sometimes it hurts to be reminded of just how much you've changed - so much so that old friends' parents no longer recognize you - saying hi and hugging your colleagues, but coming to you, looking briefly confused, and quickly moving on to the person behind you. It was hardly appropriate to try and say something, though, so I just let it pass.

Maybe I took the wrong road, somewhere, and hadn't noticed.

But in any case, the day wasn't about me. I shouldn't make it sound like it was.

2001-03-19

"just before the continents sank
you could still go outside"
The Church.

Dreams in black and white ? A confusing message left on the phone, I don't know if it reached its destination, maybe never. "Owner has taken possession". A mask floating freely on the sea. I'm reading on the tram again, trying to stop noticing the way people look at me these days.

current listening :

• How I learned to love the bootboys, by The Auteurs.

• Gold Afternoon Fix, by The Church.

2001-03-20

I walked up the street from work, and before long I was in that Other Land, where everybody's either wandering around with shopping bags, or trying to look the part. Around the corner and into the venue, the opening evening for some t-shirt exhibition. Almost everybody has a beer in their hand, and it's full of people. A familiar face, seen at a wedding last year, but I can't remember the name, and they wouldn't know me anyway. I move on, looking at the room of t-shirt designs, with turntablist at the end of the room, and then the other room with random artworks, background noise courtesy of some guy aimlessly strumming a distorted electric guitar in front of a huge amp with one of the t-shirt labels on it. My local heroes, SMC Evolve, did a good effort, if a little more restrained than some of the others, who had a fridge full of "wankuss"-labelled bottles, and all sorts. After about 5 or so minutes, the heat from so many bodies in one room was making me sweat, so I wandered out and off home.

2001-03-25

you better listen
it's thin
it's a powder keg.
you better listen to me.

take me home.
i don't want to go...
The Fall.

It doesn't have to be like this. I don't really want to get involved this time, but perhaps I won't have a choice. In the meantime, I'll pray that a solution presents itself. This is wrong, wrong, wrong of me. I know it.

2001-03-26

Red lights, they're everywhere. One car in the first side street with its lights left on, the brake light bouncing all the way down to me as I turn the corner, putting a sinister twist on my walk home...in the next street, a makeshift flashing LED on the back of some old Toyota is an unwanted beacon.

I can't hear the music.
I can't think.
I can never, ever go home.

2001-03-27

I have an inclination, but the method's still hidden from me. I was never really one for methods though, just the solution.

Current listening :

• The Hunting Picture, by Sandpit.

• A King in the Kindness Room, by Ed Kuepper.

2001-03-29

It builds up. It's been building up. Maybe more so than usual. The anger response just won't come out of my mouth - blocked by my general sense of guilt - but it's pushing its way up my throat all the same.

I walked a few kilometres, more or less by chance, trying to shake off the tense feeling. It'll take more effort than that. It'll take more than the simple steps of a bad mood guy.

At the same time though, I need to start thinking about the Future. The f-word. I'm bad at doing this at the best of times, but I'm just a slave to circumstance. So be it.

see you later, space cowboy...

Current Listening :

• American Music Club's Hello Amsterdam EP.

• the bonus Matador CD thingy that came in this month's Wire.

• Fear of Flying, by Bowery Electric.