1 December If God is real... then who am I?

Marijuana and Milo... oh god. These bleary-eyed cybervisions seem beyond comprehension. This is the original Ajax... aural hallucinations, spiritual awareness... this is where it ends.

Alas! Lament the fallen Ajax! She's gone, it's true! You don't believe me? He's wandered off you see. And how am I to help, sir, you when all the World is weary we can 'gin again. ginagin. What began in April last year, the original "half-ounce", it's gibbering remnants have now passed through my lips and body, ending the terror, extending the ecstas. To construct a fitting memorial, but do so without offending to be interior and hence block of the thinking hole - whole.

I guess the whole thing was a spiritual journey. Start to fucking finish - we record these so we may relish in them. The pick-up, sitting in a "hot" seat playing "hot" Chu Chu Rocket on a "hot" video game console waiting for it to cool down. Too hot, too intense, $150 later she is truly in my possession. We took them for granted those days! The trips to Auckland Grammar, the morning viewed through a thin air of rich hypocrisy and lifeless turntatles. Then the buds and muesli... no more than a year ago today did I enjoy my deepest Quest - ingestion, copious amounts of Marijuana and rich, blue milk. Terrible imaginings and physical draining, my body was slave only to instinct and the recesses of my mind. And then, silence. A learning tool, in this age it would serve as a means of understanding others by reciprocating knowledge with them. The birth of a brother, the loss of a friend. But then, nothing - amusement on camping trips, a relief from the excesses of intellectual process, purpose and pursuit. A unifier, then a divider, a teacher yet a student, Ajax... and some major fucking depth problems I now encounter. Starlight dying.

Those of you who cannot understand division between parents will fail. Needed is the basest rapport made available through the deepest experience. That is what hinders me. The awkwardness of rememberance... this is what should end me. Cruising 4 sake bars in one night may be self-destruction, yet the source of plenty it can prove to be. Rumination of the Moment™: My hand has become transvisible. Buzzy.

20 November An Obnoxious State of Affairs utterly violated

What is this? Why sir, 'tis a boring narrative of tonight's events, without the narrative!
9:45 - Matt arrives at house. Coffee run ensues...
10:30 - Scotch is acquired, oversized tweed jacket and one-lensed glasses to complete the image.
10:45 - Robert is acquired, and Mt Eden is climbed using excessive force. Scotch is drunk, Wazza McFazza is encountered... after stunning views and twinkling lights, we descended halfway for more debauchery on "Make Out Lane", as well as pissing.
12:45 - The end of Robert's quest. He is returned home in order to gain significant sleep for his World Trip. We wait in horror...
1:00 - Foodtown Greenlane. Snickers spread, crusty french stick, plastic forks, luscious lime (luscious lime, I like luscious lime). Consumption in T-Minus 20 minutes.
1:25 - Melville Park. Intimidating Indian and his crew of DAPs. Skaters arrive... awkward conversation, language of persuasion, conversation and situation covered extensively.
1:55 - Gribblehurst Park. Teenagers in bushes, isolation, cop car. Attempted escape at 40 kph... he truly was "onto us". Lights flashing. Car stops. Registration checked, intimidating questions/gestures ensue... violation in every sense of the word. Car searched... wazza and scotch secured... shot glasses of luscious lime are unimpressive. Nothing uncovered... phew.
2:17 - Police encounter concludes and trip home begins. Spirits flattened. Sight of policemen randomly pulling over another car on the main road (have they nothing better to do?)

So, where has our freedom gone? We may have been fucking lucky (and brilliantly deceptive) to avoid being caught... is this a symptom of a "World of Terror"? They may have ruined our fun (bet they fought we wuz fucken faggots or sumthin'!) but they also enforced stereotypes about policeman being oppressive bullies. In my mind there was no legal justification for what they did, and I may just have to write a strongly-worded letter to that cruel institution... Rumination of the Moment™:

"Disorder unleashed
Starting to burn
Starting to lynch
Silence means death
Stand on your feet
Inner fear
Your worst enemy."

That may have been ripped blatantly from a Sepultura song... nevertheless I feel my dislike for the police force and sources of authority increasing. ChaosAD indeed. As an aside, good luck to those currently engaged in bursary, I know that's something I never dream of attempting.

9/11 If there's a bustle in your hedge row... senseless insensitivity

This entry is officially inspired by the old man in the bushes, Wazza McFazza himself... how sad! On the internet now and bragging about it. I cast my gaze onto my watch, 9/11 and they're still blowing up fireworks outside on the road at excessive volume... dear me. There goes one right now....fizaeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeow. No more fireworks commentary here...

Today yielded a few sore disappointments, the biggest of which was the lack of Godspeed at Real Groovy... also notable was the lack of Peter Gabriel at Real Groovy, and the lack of peyote at "VPM". prapapapapapapapapa... dun, dinn! I hate fireworks. My fantasy of mescaline inspired visions for the holidays was horribly betrayed when I went to the market today to fetch a dream quest, only to find a fiddy diddy maori lady in place of a fiddy diddy old man, who informed me that Peyote cannot be imported into New Zealand and they take about ten years to grow... what had been presented to me as peyote was in fact another member of the same genus (that looks quite a bit different) - however, I was told that San Pedro cacti were sold at a number of places around town, not just "Tippets" Grey Lynn... promising? If past experience is anything to go by, no.

I guess its fair to say I couldn't be much more relaxed than I am now... the whole 4 months of holiday thang has probably taken its toll on my awareness of my own existence, and to walk around town today was like gliding around not quite there... whatever the case, I'm going to try and salvage something...um, yeah. So WmcF has instead of inspiring me left me quite sick of this entire conquest, better luck next time. The Police are reuniting... oh Sting. Rumination of the Moment™: It's a sad day when news headlines speak only of cannabis-filled coffins... really.

5 November Happy Guy Fawkes? (you cantankerous churl) articulated vision

Time for round 2? It's official, this is my second Melbourne Cup/Guy Fawkes entry... it's an emotional moment. No, not because I'm a self-indulgent prat that litters the "cyberscape" with idle words and insincere sentiment (I've been doing that for over a year, thank you) but because Damien Oliver (was that even his name?) just "avenged" his brother by riding a horse to finish first in the Melbourne Cup [wipes away a tear]. Maybe I just don't get it, but does drama get any worse than "I'd give it back right now to have my brother back!" when you're getting interviewed? Is this what we call paying "lip service" to the dead? Whatever the case, I hope his win (be it rigged or not) brought him some satisfaction (and didn't end up in too big a dip in gambling agency profits).

In fact, what struck me today as I began writing my English exam was that I absolutely must check out Mike Dillon (racing expert!) to see how much Mike Dillon had fallen from his pedastal... so, let's take a look shall we (by means of comparisson).

Mike Dillon as we found him a year ago...

Oh Mike... Time has ravaged your once youthful looks...

Dear me. As far as actual content here goes, there are still a number of things on the cards, unfortunately usually my big projects get distracted by doing "fiddly-diddly" little things like fixing the shocking html errors and the like which sabotage my entries. Rumination of the Moment™: "The Government saw it as a strike in defiance of the principle of arbitration: to the men it was a lockout by employers." - Boy did I open the wrong random book sitting next to me to quote out of... damn you Oxford History of New Zealand!

3 November A Bright Light Grandmaster Flash

A good time was had by all, I'm pooped! Who says I can't keep a promise? I think its time for some incriminating photos! That's right, after Tristan's "Wild Bash" I thought it was time to destroy those dear friends who built upon me an absolute trust. First, a 'lil disclaimer... Okay, that photo of me with 25 cigarettes in my mouth, 'twas a statement, and I swear after that horrendous experience I will never touch another cigarette again. As a matter of fact, the result was that my very being became consumed by the reek of Malboro... smoking the cigarettes was an excuse to hand the empty packet to Tris with the symbolic "Don't do it Baby" lighter inside. To be honest, I don't have a problem with smokers... if any of my friends choose to take up smoking, that'll be their decision... hell, I have enough bad habits to know I can't take the moral high ground. To those of you that regularly do take the moral high ground however... well...

B-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-Bass [pelvic thrust]

B-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-Ohhhh-way! [enthusiastic pointing at sky gesture]

B-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-baway! [rapid scrubbing motion]

B-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum-baOhhh-way! [stirring the pot]

Well, there are more pics forthcoming, but I thought I'd keep this relatively short so I can get a decent sleep. Exams Tuesday and Thursday, then four months of freedom. Liberation plus plus. Rumination of the Moment™: D-d-d-d-d-don't-d-d-d-d-d-don't-don't-don't-don't-do it-do it-do it-do it! Baby! B-baby!
[exit gesture]

29 October Get Me Get Tiffany om ni

Matt Dillon, get us out of here! I was just reading up on my entries and remembered sitting here in this exact same position in a very similar state of mind. "Buzzy". Rumination of the Moment:™ I often quote myself. It adds much-needed spice to my conversation.

27 October Happy Birthday (you sack of slut) ode to putrifecation

To hit the road forty minutes ago was your short-term goal, but the long-term prognosis dives deeper by the second. Even when you’re moving, locomotion is the subject of automatonics, not the grains of sand that free themselves from the hour glass, but the driver, at the helm of this skeletal anatomic construction.

Inside hangs the misery, yet to be extrospective only reveals the plight of lovers, killers and junkies. The birds fight, while the owl prepares to consume his hawk… delightful carnage, or horrendous order? None are decided. Where something may have been, nothing shall exist. A state? A point of order? A diktat. That’s what it was.

They should be sleeping, but instead they remain on guard. Unwilling to entrust their love and hopes upon one another, by all means separate pieces of a whole that never existed, only serving as a leaking point for the encroaching water. Water of sadness? Betrayal? The sweet ambrosia of lust that consumes the gush of expectation. Pre-cognitive or post-humous?

22 October One More Red Nightmare. hope

18 at last? Oh how so much has gone undocumented… I would use my trip to Piha at the beginning of the month as an entry point (I believe that occurred on the second day of the month) but I guess obligation leads me to discuss the passing of my grandmother (yep, another one!) on the 3rd of November. Rather than writing a “fucking eulogy” I’ll “tell it like it is” (don’t I always?)

Marjorie Gray… my grandma on my Dad’s side, not to mention the source of all his insecurities and problems in his life… I guess at his age it helped to have someone to blame. While I can’t say that he was affected to anywhere near the extent that my Mum was by her mother’s death, it was a dark day indeed. However, it was lightened by the fact she received a full “Anglican” ceremony (its what she would have wanted… question mark?) which meant I read a passage from the Bible, which was, I say, terribly ironic… it was on the nature of love, and began a little something like this… “If I speak and speak without love then I am merely a bell ringing or a cymbal clashing…” Now excuse me, but the fact I was standing up in this church bellowing this out as I stood in contraposto forced to quote scripture which meant nothing to me is rather... ironic [winks].

To be honest, I don’t care to remember the rest, needless to say, whatever I did say probably reinforced the patriarchy of King Henry, but it really meant nothing to me… nothing at all.

Since it’s been a month since my last update, I’m just going to skip a lot of “boring narrative”, but needless to say I have a few thoughts on the ”TERROR IN BALI” that was reported to us in the news on the 10th of October. It got better though, following the NPC semi-final in Auckland in which a DC10 flew over Eden Park a news story was run, ”RUGBY TERROR” – classical. We then heard from a collection of rugby fans scoffing at how inappropriate it was to have a plane fly over the stadium, especially in light of the “acts of Terror in Bali”. Nice. Then I had to put up with a stupid bitch moaning about how “It looked like one of those stealth fighters coming to bomb the park!” – Fucking idiots. It may be true that when things in the World get bad (crazy Cold War political climate, unrest in Palestine, sniper in Washington, “Terror” in Bali, killer in Melbourne, Leaky Buildings, THE G Es! and other such “Terror” inducing shit takes place) they can only get worse, and to me that spells a lot of excitement leading up to my University exams that are now but a week away.

Get that? A frigging week… woweee, how they have snuck up on me. I’m going to have to do something about preparing for them sooner or later (although my spanky new computer says later) and a week after they begin, they end. Possibly a nicer option to last semester’s “3 exams over 3 days” timetable (hey, 4/7 ain’t bad!) I am anticipating a sound failure judging by my general effort put in and interest in my papers (blame for this falls solely on “the Pox”) followed by 4 months of freedom… hehe. Four months… whatever can be done? Rumination of the Moment™: "I'm a terrible person" - I figure if I'm going to quote my other grandma after she dies, 'ole Marjorie deserves to have her words immortalised here too... good call, no? %%ENTRIES_HERE%%