Summer is never going to end...

Summer is never going to end..., originally uploaded by Mr San.

I'm thinking a lot about money and happiness these days. It is said that money doesn't buy happiness but I can't see how that would be. If I had millions of dollars I would be extremely happy. I'd be able to live how I want and not have to stress about where the next dollar is coming from. It is such a symptom of our society that many of us cannot be happy with what we have. I want to travel; I want to live where I want; I want to be happy. It seems like money would fix this. 

I don't know, but I want to be happier.

A Letter

Anais:

Don't expect me to be sane anymore. Don't let's be sensible. It was a marriage at Louveciennes—you can't dispute it. I came away with pieces of you sticking to me; I am walking about, swimming, in an ocean of blood, your Andalusian blood, distilled and poisonous. Everything I do and say and think relates back to the marriage. I saw you as the mistress of your home, a Moor with a heavy face, a negress with a white body, eyes all over your skin, woman, woman, woman. I can't see how I can go on living away from you—these intermissions are death. How did it seem to you when Hugo came back? Was I still there? I can't picture you moving about with him as you did with me. Legs closed. Frailty. Sweet, treacherous acquiescence. Bird docility. You became a woman with me. I was almost terrified by it. You are not just thirty years old—you are a thousand years old.

Here I am back and still smouldering with passion, like wine smoking. Not a passion any longer for flesh, but a complete hunger for you, a devouring hunger. I read the paper about suicides and murders and I understand it all thoroughly. I feel murderous, suicidal. I feel somehow that it is a disgrace to do nothing, to just bide one's time, to take it philosophically, to be sensible. Where has gone the time when men fought, killed, died for a glove, a glance, etc? (A victrola is playing that terrible aria from Madama Butterfly—"Some day he'll come!")

I still hear you singing in the kitchen—a sort of inharmonic, monotonous Cuban wail. I know you're happy in the kitchen and the meal you're cooking is the best meal we ever ate together. I know you would scald yourself and not complain. I feel the greatest peace and joy sitting in the dining room listening to you rustling about, your dress like the goddess Indra studded with a thousand eyes.

Anais, I only thought I loved you before; it was nothing like this certainty that's in me now. Was all this so wonderful only because it was brief and stolen? Were we acting for each other, to each other? Was I less I, or more I, and you less or more you? Is it madness to believe that this could go on? When and where would the drab moments begin? I study you so much to discover the possible flaws, the weak points, the danger zones. I don't find them—not any. That means I am in love, blind, blind. To be blind forever! (Now they're singing "Heaven and Ocean" from La Gioconda.)

I picture you playing the records over and over—Hugo's records. "Parlez moi d amour." The double life, double taste, double joy and misery. How you must be furrowed and ploughed by it. I know all that, but I can't do anything to prevent it. I wish indeed it were me who had to endure it. I know now your eyes are wide open. Certain things you will never believe anymore, certain gestures you will never repeat, certain sorrows, misgivings, you will never again experience. A kind of white criminal fervor in your tenderness and cruelty. Neither remorse nor vengeance, neither sorrow nor guilt. A living it out, with nothing to save you from the abysm but a high hope, a faith, a joy that you tasted, that you can repeat when you will. 

All morning I was at my notes, ferreting through my life records, wondering where to begin, how to make a start, seeing not just another book before me but a life of books. But I don't begin. The walls are completely bare—I had taken everything down before going to meet you. It is as though I had made ready to leave for good. The spots on the walls stand out—where our heads rested. While it thunders and lightnings I lie on the bed and go through wild dreams. We're in Seville and then in Fez and then in Capri and then in Havana. We're journeying constantly, but there is always a machine and books, and your body is always close to me and the look in your eyes never changes. People are saying we will be miserable, we will regret, but we are happy, we are laughing always, we are singing. We are talking Spanish and French and Arabic and Turkish. We are admitted everywhere and they strew our path with flowers. 

I say this is a wild dream—but it is this dream I want to realize. Life and literature combined, love the dynamo, you with your chameleon's soul giving me a thousand loves, being anchored always in no matter what storm, home wherever we are. In the mornings, continuing where we left off. Resurrection after resurrection. You asserting yourself, getting the rich varied life you desire; and the more you assert yourself the more you want me, need me. Your voice getting hoarser, deeper, your eyes blacker, your blood thicker, your body fuller. A voluptuous servility and tyrannical necessity. More cruel now than before—consciously, wilfully cruel. The insatiable delight of experience.

HVM

(Harry Miller to Anaïs Nin. Taken from Letters of Note)

I'll be back soon for actual blogging!

Post

There is another one of me out there somewhere. He is living the life I want. For all the non-belief I have, sometimes I will have another life after this one to be that other guy and be on his shoes for once.

Long

Long time, long life, long day, long term; so many "longs". When I typed the title I was thinking of a long time. It seems to me that life is a series of important or looked forward to events joined together by the dreariness of living. I am looking forward to travelling in September and as the event gets closer, I think about afterwards and the inevitable back-to-sameness of my life. I suppose if I think about it too much it can be a depressing thing.

Life is long, but the true joys in life a short things.

I love life and wouldn't give it up, but I always want more. The true secret to a great life is learning to accept what you have and not to think the grass is greener on the other side. It seldom is.

The Golden Fish in the Apple

Along time ago there was a golden fish his nine was free. Fred didn't like being a fish he wanted to be human and live in a house on the land. When you try to Will on the beach he found he could not breeze as I had to rush back to the water quickly. He wished with all his might that he could become a human and leave the terrible seat. Poseidon ahead his Priehs and kind to him. Facebook Fred I grungy you wish to become a human go to the beach and breeze for! Fred thanks Poseidon and walk to the beach with his new legs. They're waiting for him was a dog the dog's time was Gunther. The dog took one look at the delicious looking human and I. The golden fish was going to Gunther was satisfied. Tomorrow the story is never to wish your human was delicious looking.

The end




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Auckland,New Zealand

The King and the Bush

Once upon a time there was a canine Jeremy he wasn't wise and good king but very ugly. He wanted to want to watch a older women in the Kingdom were very scared all of his ugly face. Finally Jeremy just wanted to marry a tree's trees did not care how he looked. He found a lovely Rhododendron bush and they were happily married. After three years of trying Bayhead hello my lovely children and 16 roses. The people of the kingdom was scared and they will lift in a hurry. Jeremy didn't care as he had his Rhododendron bush and his children. And they lived happily ever asked up until winter when his wife going.

The end.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Auckland,New Zealand

Three Dogs

I'm changing it up a bit today. I have a new iPad and it has speech to text. I told the iPad some stories and here's what it wrote... I even drew a picture to go along with it!

Once upon a time there were three dogs their names with Heidi Jimmy and him both. They had many adventures chasing cats up trees in chasing fish and likes. One day Heidi drank a whole lake. And the other dogs locked at her and she went to hospital. She died and became a ghost they were very sad! Whenever they saw I like again they voice remembered Heidi and was sad. Does party one multi and became a millionaire.

The end.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Auckland,New Zealand

Chalupa

Today's word was a tough one. I hadn't really any idea what it meant until I looked it up just now. Mexican food! Shallow tortilla cups filled with yummy goodness. Wow, I'm really hungry now! There is this Mexican restaurant in Auckland city called "The Mexican Cafe" and has been there for 30 years. It was always a great treat for me to go there and every time I pass it now, I still get a warm comfortable feeling of somewhere wonderful. I feel that about Mexican food in general although I will freely admit I have never eaten real Mexican food; only what passes for it in non-Mexican countries. One day I hope to get to Mexico, eat wonderful food, meet wonderful people and see wonderful things. I have a soft spot for Mexico despite only having gone to Tijuana which isn't really Mexico. Of course El Salvador is better (right Panchitah?)

 I'm going to the US in less than three months. It'll be great to catch up with friends and maybe just a bit less importantly... Eat food! I have been dieting all year and I have lost a lot of weight. I might put it back on in a week...

 Arriba!

Skedaddle

Sometimes I feel like I'd like to run away. Not sure where I would go, but I long for adventure and living in a completely different way. I like security and my life now is secure and comfortable. But at times it can be bland and it feels like I have already lived my life and am now stuck in a loop to the end. I'm sure everyone feels like this and so you'll understand why I want to skedaddle!

Skedaddle is a fun word. It seems like a word that was made up and I am a huge fan of made up words. I read somewhere (and I can't be bothered checking now) that Shakespeare made up so many words that are now accepted in everyday English. I admire the power of such a person who can mould the very language I write. Without him and other giants of English literature my language, indeed our language, would be much poorer. We have a million words now! No other language comes close.

I have a headache and my vision is blurry. If I don't die, I'll blog again tomorrow!

Acrimonious

Acrimonious, angry and bitter. Not really emotions I have much time for in my life. I don't really get angry, more sad and disappointed and hurt. I guess some people have the capacity to explode and let the world know what pissing them off and what really gets their blood boiling, but not me. Maybe I'm like a volcano and one day it will all just come out?

Anger scares me to be quite honest. Angry people seem to have little self control and when their anger spills out I like to make a run for it. I am very sensitive to the moods of people and I hate to see people angry and people sad. At least with sad I can try to help. Anger is not something I can really deal with.

I've told this story before, but years ago when I lived in Korea, I was on a bus riding somewhere and the bus stopped to pick up some passengers. There was a car blocking the bus stop, so the bus driver yelled out the door for the guy to move. Instead of apologising, the driver leaped aboard the bus brandishing a tyre iron and made to strike the bus driver. They yelled at each other and the driver kept daring the man to hit him. I couldn't stand this happening so I walked to the front of the bus (I actually walked... everything was in slow motion) and told the man to get off the bus. Much to my surprise he did and we were on our way again... The anger of those two men was truly terrifying, but I stood up to it.

Anger leads to stupid things.

Beijing

I studied Chinese at university many a moon ago. I enjoyed it in the first year, but in the second they wanted me to study classical literature and things I didn't really care about. I just wanted to do the language, so I didn't take it again.

I always wanted to go to Beijing. I'd love to see all the wonderful buildings and I'd love to see Mao in his tomb as well! I was jealous when my colleagues at work got to go to Beijing for the Olympics, while I had to stay home, but what can you do? In my case, nothing!

I was in Hong Kong and in China (for one day) shortly after the Tiananmen Square massacre. In Hong Kong there were protests going on and a lot of anger. People knew what was happening and were desperately trying to make their voices heard. The minute I crossed the border it was all about ignorance. No one knew anything, or at least claimed that they didn't. It was sad and really taught me a lot about how information is power.

The internet has really helped in a lot of ways by allowing information to spread despite the efforts of those in authority who would have it otherwise. At the same time horribly incorrect information also spreads quickly and it's important for people to double check everything they hear. I find this seldom happens.

I like duck. I think I'd like to have Peking Duck someday.

Pineapple

Pineapple is a strange word. If you split it up, it's Pine and Apple. It's neither of those things. So why would it be any different if it were stuck together? English, sort things out please! I would prefer Spikyfruit. It's what is it. Let's go with that.

When I think of spikyfruit, I think of two things. The first is dessert! Pineapple and vanilla ice cream. So so good! The second is Hawaii. I'm not sure why. I went to Hawaii once when I was 11. I'm not even sure that I ate spikyfruit then, but for some reason Hawaii = spikyfruit. My mind is an enigma of insanity.

When I was 6, I went to the Big Banana in Australia. It's not a spikyfruit, of course. There's a big spikyfruit in Australia too. That's why I brought it up. The Big Banana served banana stuff. Shakes, ice cream and other things, which I can't remember. Inside there was a lame art exhibition. That's all I remember.

Please don't ask me anymore. Thanks.

Vegemite

Nothing makes me more patriotic than marmite. That jar of black spread that is reviled around the world, but which is loved by me and many other Kiwis. Just thinking about it makes my heart flutter.

Thanks to the second Christchurch earthquake in 2011, the marmite factory in here was damaged and currently is not able to produce more. We have referred to it as Marmigeddon and as of today I no longer have marmite in my house... Matt in London sent me English marmite last year and I have even become desperate enough to put that on my toast. It is horrible... but I'm desperate!

The next level of desperation will be looking further on the supermarket shelf at the Australian version of Marmite; Vegemite... The very thought of me eating it makes me angry. But I have no choice. I need my black salty treat for breakfast and Vegemite is as close as I can get... I feel like a traitor for even thinking about it...

In other news... Nothing.

OJ

OJ is what Americans call orange juice. It alway sounds so foreign when I hear it, but nowadays it seems that many people here are starting to call it OJ too. Mayo is another word I never thought I'd hear used here. I guess that's how the language is going. I'm sure there are Americanisms that I use without even thinking about it. The domination of the US in film and tv is something, but the domination of the internet, when it comes to English at least, means it's hard to avoid the influence. This is neither a good or a bad thing; it's just a thing. 

OJ is also the name of that guy that murdered his wife and that other guy or did he? (Yes, he did) I was in the US when the trial was on and I remember all the craziness surrounding it. When I was in Hollywood, there were a lot of guys selling OJ t-shirts on the street. I regret not buying one. I would have looked good in one of those!

There's been this terrible cold which has been affecting a bunch of people in the office during the past week or so. I think I have it today... I was trying to avoid it, but no. That's both annoying and also annoying. Double annoying!

Excrescence

An unattractive or superfluous addition or feature, apparently!

I think that about most of my features usually. I've never felt anything to make me think otherwise. Some people, as they say, have it and some do not. Nothing I can do about it, just live with what I've got.

I've lived in a country where plastic surgery was all the rage. That country is Korea and there it's seen as normal to want to change your eyes into a more "attractive" western style eye. Nose jobs are common and every girl and many guys want this surgery. It seems so sad to me to want to change the way you look in such an artificial way. While I am not happy with how I look, I would never seek to change my face in anyway with the help of a scalpel. It seems a horrible desperate way to deal with things.


Have you ever wondered about how many toes you could without and still live a normal walking life? I often wonder. The little toe especially seems to be extra pointless. It's kind of cute though, so I won't be chopping it off right away.

Soliloquy

I know the word "soliloquy" but I didn't really think about its meaning. Essentially it's a inner monologue talked out loud so that others can hear. Sounds like an inconvenience in real life, but obviously serves and important purpose in drama.

Recently I tried being soliloquous. I'm not sure that's a word, but it'll do for now. I talked about my inner thoughts and feelings and left nothing out. It can be tough leaving yourself open like that and it's even tougher when your words precede your thoughts; in other words speaking without thinking it through. I feel that if someone is important enough you shouldn't need to hide how you feel or what you are thinking, but at the same time expressing this correctly is very important. I have not yet learned how to do this. It would be fair to say that one should soliloquy with caution.

For the longest time I didn't get Shakespeare. Then one day I was helping some ESL students (English as a Second Language) with their homework and had to explain Shakespeare. We went through the play line by line. I don't remember the play, but I began to appreciate the words and Shakespeares ability to mould his writing into such vivid colour. Of course, it's still a funny way to speak! But the fact that the English language became so much more interesting thanks to him is enough reason for me to crush on him just a little bit. PLUS he got to get with Gwyneth Paltrow!

Brain

I find these days that thinking really taxes my brain. I always wish I'd been one of those empty headed handsome dudes. Things are easy when the most important thing on your mind is the state of your tan and how many hot chicks you are scoring with. People stuck with only their brains for company have it rough in comparison.

I ate lambs brains at the French restaurant across the road a few years ago. I was excited to try a new thing and it was done in a mustard sauce. I LOVE mustard. Sadly, the brains were gross. They tasted like.. well... brains. They'll not sucker me in again with their promises of luscious mustard sauce.

I really loved the cartoon, Pinky and the Brain. I would like to watch that again.

Oh yes, it's the first day of Winter! Brrrrrrr!

What?

The word of the day is "what".

What am I thinking right now? Nothing... I have itchy eyes. It will be Winter tomorrow and I don't expect allergies at this time of year. If someone knows Mother Nature personally, I would appreciate if you could let her know of my great disapproval.

What is going on in my life? Same old same old. Is that good? Is that bad? I'm not really sure. I'm heading the US and France in September, so I'm really excited about that. I need to brush up on my French and need to work on a convincing American accent. I'll try to blend in!

What are you doing learning Swedish? That's a question I get sometimes... I met a Swedish friend and I was frustrated that I didn't know anything about her language. Instantly I decided that I needed to know it and that's where I am. There's no reason other than wanting to know something I don't.

What of the future? Who knows my friend? Who knows...

Blank

The times I want to post in my blog are the times my mind goes blank. I have to much to say, but when it comes to this blogging malarkey... blank.

These days I find myself quite emotional and sensitive and I think it affects my ability to step back and look at things objectively. Blogging requires that I think. If I look back at all my "successful" posts, I notice a more cool, calm and collected me. I wish that guy would come back sometimes. I don't know if he ever will.

I would like a blank cheque. People often say that money won't provide happiness. I'd like to be in a position to prove them all wrong.

I am terrible with faces. I can't remember people at all. If I try to remember what someone looks like I am met with a blank image in my mind. Often people will say hi to me in the street and I'll say hi back not having a clue who they are. There is a woman who lives two doors down from me. She says hi to me almost everyday at school and every time I see her as someone entirely new who I have never met before. I blank on faces.

Blank. That's the word of today. I'm going to try and post using random words as ideas. More blogging so I'll have something for my grandchildren to see...

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