tales from an ordinary world

2001-04-25

The sugar was spilt across the table. The milky way, only smaller. A whole lot of particles that you're constantly told are bad for you, and here they are, spiralling across the surface in front of you like a fractal, like a fern tree.

People wear their war medals, observing Anzac Day. A group of them cross the road as we drive past, and just behind them a woman waits as her man throws up on the pavement of Russell St.

I reread all my Michael Leunig books recently, and it's affecting me, making me feel more introspectve, making me shy away from the world full of people I just don't understand.

I keep my mouth shut these days - every time I try to give advice I feel as if I'm being overly patronizing, pontificating and opinionated. The silent alternative seems better, though it hurts me.