'A story' about Atalanta's adventures in the Woods after she had been thrown out of her father's house on account of a rumour that she was a girl and therefore useless.
When Atlanta finally did snap out of her unusual daydreams … it was not in the surrounds she had always imagined. The feathery white drapery … luxurious white feather bed and voluminous white pillows … were notable … only by their absence …. as was the clarinet quartet.
Instead she woke up face down in a patch of moss. She woke with a start, the moss had got right up her nose. Not only that, she had inhaled some of it and nearly choked to death. For the longest time she could hardly breathe. Close to death and groping in the dark she found a cigarette packet … with one cigarette in it … and one small battered blue lighter from a previous epoch with just enough gas in to light it … and illuminate … for just a moment … the dark cave where she had lain for all these years.
Far away in another era a bomb exploded and she heard the howling of the wolves and the screeching of the owls for the first time. She remembered the last time she had been scared. The night the lions escaped from the zoo and went on a killing rampage in Queenstown. She could still hear the screams of the women … when she put her mind to it … which she didn’t ... because it reminded her of that terrible night when they had come scratching at her door.
She blew smoke rings and watched them as they faded into nothing like cinder from a heat haze … ‘The air icy and oblique … reclaims what was never mine to keep … the same scene replaying itself over and over again’. Did I write that?
Now … she remembered … the last three lines of a poem written by a dead person about stormy seas and jagged rocks … and railway tracks covered in blood.
It was not a poem about an affair of the heart or even a romance that had gone terribly wrong. It never was about her or about him and his pathetic attempts to woo the forest nymphs with tawdry Valentine’s Day Cards and empty promises.
The nymphs had been around long enough to know that is it better to hide in the shadows on Valentine’s Day.
In Atalanta’s world, Valentine’s Day is the day the forest children send their demons out into 'the world of deluded fantasies' to lure the lovelorn 'gentlemen callers' far away from them ... even if it means they had to slop around looking like Hobblers for a while.
By the time Atalanta had taken her last drag … the wolves had ambled off ... disgruntled to discover that the white plastic bag flapping on a fish hook sticking out of a tree was not the yummy white rabbit that they had supposed it was.
Later that evening Atalanta buried the cigarette but and the lighter under a heavy rock with a Kimono Dragon type of aspect to it … and said a wistful goodbye.
Goodnight Panther Puss! … Goodnight Blue Flame … Goodnight Kimy … Goodnight Kitty Kat … Goodnight Mizz WebWing … Goodnight Dickheads … Goodnight Stagger Lee … Goodnight Construction Agent 101 … she said sorrowfully. It was a solemn occasion that demanded nothing less than utmost solemnity.
Regardless of the fact that she had been asleep for such a bloodthirsty long time … Atalanta soon drifted off again … back to that other realm … the one she knew almost nothing about … the one she would return to again and again.
Sometimes she was there in disguise … as Adorabella … the Mystery Queen of the Black Sea for instance … or as Snippy … the scruffy little dog and sole companion of the scullery maid who worked in the kitchens of the Robber Barons Palace.
Once … and only once … Atalanta chased after a boy … not because she wanted to catch him and kiss him … because she wanted to catch him and kill him … and she almost did … chasing him down an alleyway late one night … she took a swipe at his foot and bit off his shoe.
The very next day, she went back down that very same alleyway … ostensibly to catch and eat some rats … and with any luck … find and eat the foot that belonged to the shoe … and stepped on wet cement.
A lioness saw a paw print that very next day and next to it … a splotch of pink paint.
Another night … another lion noticed the paw print and a shoe with tooth mark of a sabre tooth tiger on it… half buried in the sand.
A late at night visit to a psychiatric Clinic
A psychiatrist from one of the psychiatric clinics that was not completely in ruins had to arrange an emergency appointment when Atalanta’s situation re … the wolves grew ever more dire and serious.
“I know about these wolves Atalanta,” he said. "They are very, very dangerous".
“So am I” she says .
"I am warning you Atalanta" … he reiterated. "Do not have a nonchalant attitude about this situation Atalanta. This is a very, very serious situation. I have to tell you … I am quite scared for you Atalanta. You could be in danger”.
“Uh Uh … OK I promise I will be extremely careful … so as not to offend any criminals OK”
“They are not ordinary criminals Atalanta!" … he exclaimed loudly, banging his fist on the table and rearing up out of his chair. "They are the most depraved bloodthirsty creatures that you could ever imagine. I should know I was attacked by one when I was only a little baby boy. It was terrible".
“Yep.. uh …That would have been awful”, said Atalanta genuinely shocked by the thought of it … "no wonder you are so scared about my extremely dangerous situation".
'Yes I am scared about it Atalanta . It’s very serious and a very, very dangerous'.
Naturally Atalanta was scared walking all night through the forest after what the psychiatrist had said. …. and it was extremely dark and extremely menacing. ‘I know I should be a lot more scared about this than I am… she thought. The wolves were howling and howling and snarling terribly. She tried to remember the last time she had to run away from some dangerous criminals. It was in a city.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Monday, March 3, 2014
Same Day but Later ...
Lillian,
I don’t know how to wind this story up … more and more weird coincidences like this and I swear I am going to go bananas.
In the briefest possible way I shall outline three near scapes for your perusal because I have to record them.
First off there was a colossal mould and dust invasion from a passing planet that had blown apart eons ago. I worked like a Trojan for three days pouring plaster of Paris all over the place and other cleaning agents. My whole personage and my abode nearly suffocated. …
A couple of weeks later ... horde of funnel web spiders invaded the entire building. I discovered numerous large holes and cracks in the masonry of the stair well that did not resemble normal wear and tear. I tried to plug up the holes with a concoction of Plaster of Paris and Spice and slopped it on the stairs. When I ran out of that I used modelling past. I sprayed Duck disinfectant on the top of the doors and in some of the cracks and holes. I found an unusual key in one of the holes.
Mellissa the receptionist must have seen me on the security camera because she turned up, demanding to know what I was doing … I said Melissa, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you”. I assured her I would clean up the mess.
I had to go back to my apartment to get more plaster spice mix and when I got back … and I was only gone about five minutes … all the mess had been cleared away and entire sections had been plastered over by professional plasterers …a lot longer than five minutes ago … the plaster was dry Lillian.
One day soon after that I got it into my head that I had to feed the spiders before they got to the top floor … so went to Coles Supermarket and bought a tray of chicken necks and put them into a type of walled up unused store room.
Of course I understand that the smell up there would have been horrendous and eventually discovered and that Max would be pissed with me … which he was when I passed him by in the foyer a few weeks later. He gave me one of those ‘raise one eyebrow and shake my head type of looks’.
The smell would have been terrible.
Oh apparently I am a really bad person because I wreaked havoc on an entire ancient civilization once … as it happens I had made a big mess of the lawn area in front of the space base area because I didn’t clear away the plaster spice concoction that I scraped off the top of it. Wow … End times for microscopic me!
By happenstance I had inadvertently purchased some extremely dangerous and lethal weaponry … possible explosive devices no less … from an enclave of the Hidden Dragon … a while ago now …
One of them flew apart and I saw what it was … and extremely powerful magnetic type of anti gravity bomb and … I had eight of them. I had stuck them on my fridge. It occurred to me that were serving some kind of nefarious purpose that turns abodes like mine into shit magnets … maybe something even worse …
That night I dumped all the magnets that I could bear to part with in various locations, down the toilet … down the garbage chute and in Griffin Lake … specifically … the wild plains zoo dam and a hospital for the infirm.
The night we dumped the magnets … Bandyhoots and me … was a night of danger and excitement and secret fears. Bandyhoots nearly drove the van into the blue zone and I had to scream at him to stop. I jumped out of the car… ran back towards the bridge and over it …
I can’t say exactly where I dumped the magnets … but by the time Bendy caught up with me in the van … I was running either towards a tyrannosaurus rex or away from it. I jumped in that van real fast I can tell you ...I was panting for breath … coz I don’t have a lot of it … to be honest.
I said “Did you hear it?” … he said no … I tried to describe the type of roaring noise they make and he said it would have been a lion from the zoo. It was not a lion Lillian! … apart from anything else … it was close enough to smell me … but not see me …
I heard it. I did not see it and I did not smell it.
We were observed by spaceships all the way to the hospice. I am absolutely positive they were being drawn there by the magnets so you can imagine how glad I was to finally get rid of them.
The End
Dear Miz Parker
March 4 2014
I understand that Marine and Dabios and Miz Forkner would probably be shocked and upset by my observations of their apparent selves on my side of the fence and probably with good reason too … being one step removed from my situation they are either innocent of their supposed transgressions or unaware of them and vice versa of course. Maybe not!
Take Marine for instance, Dabios too, and Miz Forkner in the early days … none of them are the heinous characters that I have painted them to be Marine for instance …she has been what you would call a normal grandma on more than one occasion … and I have sometimes detected a certain fondness for me from Dabios and camaraderie from Miz Forkner.
The problem is … they keep on morphing … and I … stupefied and transfixed by their shifting personalities’ … I can’t see the wood for the trees …and I am virtually a sitting duck. Marine is the main one that comes to my mind … she would morph into this other character and not only in her behavior also in her appearance.
In this other mode her eyes which are normally hazel in colour turn black and become like slits .… she appears cold, alien, malevolent … I don’t really understand it …
Peter changed.
I’ve heard it said that dabbling in the occult world of séances and trying to contact the dead … is like handing out invitations for a whole bunch of ghosts to take up residence in your abode and create havoc.
For another ghost familiar only with astral shells of old friends and family. It can be a foray into an alien and more often than not a hostile and sinister world … and I am not going their way.
Sometimes I try to imagine things from their perspective … totally fed up up with the weirdo who keeps turning up on all their doorstops and ruining their plans and generally being a burden and a nuisance.
One day I went around to Marines house in the morning and sat on her bed and began chatting with her the way that mothers and daughters are wont to do. She awoke with a start. She was obviously frightened. I don’t think she recognized me …maybe she thought I was a vagrant or a miscreant … … Strangers
Khalil Gibran wrote of children … and their parents
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not of you.
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls.
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
Rosie changed … during that time when we would spend endless days hanging out with Mitch and Owan Dean at his parents house in Beauchamp Street listening to Beatles records and smoking …
Rosie stopped being Rosie … if someone were to ask me to describe her behavioral characteristics without reference to her outward visage … I would have to say that she had the demeanor of a grumpy old man and a very sleepy one too … because that was all she ever did.
Having being sequestered by this pair … a couple of old chooks … I would have to say if a character analysis is appropriate here … how can I describe this situation ? … slowly but surely we were being monopolized … it was always like that … these boys were the not like the ones I remembered … they were too old for that.
And Peter changed … who was he …there was a moment in the control room at the television studio …it was a passing moment because I never saw that Peter again.
What happened to Rosemary deBorge ? … the metamorphose kids and the kids from the establishmentarians? The gatherings in the dark woods …the road statues … the girls all in black and their theatrical street theatre performances … Agatha’s billowing black dress … the empty streets and forlorn maidens in distress pantomimes.
As is the way , whenever one of them ‘men’ attaches himself to me and this happens so insidiously that I often don’t notice until it’s too late and I am trapped like a fly in a spiders web … I begin to acquire mass and my appearance starts to change … and I lose whatever it was I had before they came into my energy field. I become immersed in matter and I lose myself.
Ok so where was I going with this … I had to leave Dean in the Hallway after Zac died … I changed … Rosie told me I broke his heart when I left him … I was indifferent … I didn’t care. I just wanted my old self back … my androgynous youthful self … not this dreary old women I had morphed into within a matter of months I was only 22 for goodness sake!.
I lost weight fast … I got harder in all ways … I became addicted to exercise … I rode my bike everywhere and worked out in the gym. I became vain about my appearance and reveled in my new found appeal. I lost my mental spark … and I was ambushed again …
During those brief halcyon days when I hung out with Zee in her Dad’s house while Chris Owen prowled about outside …before Jack came onto the scene … just before the end. We used to meet up the uni bar on certain weeknights to drink and play pool with some of the Maori boys.
One day Lulubelle swung by I hadn’t seen her since I left Sydney three years before. She arrived expectantly. She was angry and hostile towards me. She literally demanded to know how I had lost so much weight. I was so naïve … I should have wondered about that.
She looked like she did when I last saw her about two years ago … middle aged or thereabouts … I didn’t notice these weird age discrepancies in those days … like why did my mother look so old by comparison to other women of her supposed generation. I should know I had worked in two nursing homes by then and I know what real old age looks like. She has always looked ancient to me … virtually from the beginning.
I have deduced that I have still my things … my treasures … a physical self to shelter in … because I was born and I did live ‘a life’ albeit a shadowy sort of half life … but a life nevertheless … I still have my roads … my portals … but for how long … in that other life … the one I had to forfeit … I was not born … I did not exist … as I move from one life to no other will these things that I have …fade into nothingness … like the aports and engravings and the strange new buildings and weird sculptures that just appeared out of nowhere so long ago now … so too will the other stuff disappear … the stuff that never was … the dust. I am not being morbid about this Lillian ... I am just wondering what the future holds on this side of the fence … this city for instance. To some folk this is a jungle … I just can’t see it.
So why should I be surprised or even upset that the pearls my mother gave me for my 21st birthday … have disappeared into that ether as did my pearl earrings and my silver charm bracelet , my poems and other writings …a pink nightie and the photograph that never was.
I don’t know how to wind this story up … more and more weird coincidences like this and I swear I am going to go bananas.
In the briefest possible way I shall outline three near scapes for your perusal because I have to record them.
First off there was a colossal mould and dust invasion from a passing planet that had blown apart eons ago. I worked like a Trojan for three days pouring plaster of Paris all over the place and other cleaning agents. My whole personage and my abode nearly suffocated. …
A couple of weeks later ... horde of funnel web spiders invaded the entire building. I discovered numerous large holes and cracks in the masonry of the stair well that did not resemble normal wear and tear. I tried to plug up the holes with a concoction of Plaster of Paris and Spice and slopped it on the stairs. When I ran out of that I used modelling past. I sprayed Duck disinfectant on the top of the doors and in some of the cracks and holes. I found an unusual key in one of the holes.
Mellissa the receptionist must have seen me on the security camera because she turned up, demanding to know what I was doing … I said Melissa, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you”. I assured her I would clean up the mess.
I had to go back to my apartment to get more plaster spice mix and when I got back … and I was only gone about five minutes … all the mess had been cleared away and entire sections had been plastered over by professional plasterers …a lot longer than five minutes ago … the plaster was dry Lillian.
One day soon after that I got it into my head that I had to feed the spiders before they got to the top floor … so went to Coles Supermarket and bought a tray of chicken necks and put them into a type of walled up unused store room.
Of course I understand that the smell up there would have been horrendous and eventually discovered and that Max would be pissed with me … which he was when I passed him by in the foyer a few weeks later. He gave me one of those ‘raise one eyebrow and shake my head type of looks’.
The smell would have been terrible.
Oh apparently I am a really bad person because I wreaked havoc on an entire ancient civilization once … as it happens I had made a big mess of the lawn area in front of the space base area because I didn’t clear away the plaster spice concoction that I scraped off the top of it. Wow … End times for microscopic me!
By happenstance I had inadvertently purchased some extremely dangerous and lethal weaponry … possible explosive devices no less … from an enclave of the Hidden Dragon … a while ago now …
One of them flew apart and I saw what it was … and extremely powerful magnetic type of anti gravity bomb and … I had eight of them. I had stuck them on my fridge. It occurred to me that were serving some kind of nefarious purpose that turns abodes like mine into shit magnets … maybe something even worse …
That night I dumped all the magnets that I could bear to part with in various locations, down the toilet … down the garbage chute and in Griffin Lake … specifically … the wild plains zoo dam and a hospital for the infirm.
The night we dumped the magnets … Bandyhoots and me … was a night of danger and excitement and secret fears. Bandyhoots nearly drove the van into the blue zone and I had to scream at him to stop. I jumped out of the car… ran back towards the bridge and over it …
I can’t say exactly where I dumped the magnets … but by the time Bendy caught up with me in the van … I was running either towards a tyrannosaurus rex or away from it. I jumped in that van real fast I can tell you ...I was panting for breath … coz I don’t have a lot of it … to be honest.
I said “Did you hear it?” … he said no … I tried to describe the type of roaring noise they make and he said it would have been a lion from the zoo. It was not a lion Lillian! … apart from anything else … it was close enough to smell me … but not see me …
I heard it. I did not see it and I did not smell it.
We were observed by spaceships all the way to the hospice. I am absolutely positive they were being drawn there by the magnets so you can imagine how glad I was to finally get rid of them.
The End
Dear Miz Parker
March 4 2014
I understand that Marine and Dabios and Miz Forkner would probably be shocked and upset by my observations of their apparent selves on my side of the fence and probably with good reason too … being one step removed from my situation they are either innocent of their supposed transgressions or unaware of them and vice versa of course. Maybe not!
Take Marine for instance, Dabios too, and Miz Forkner in the early days … none of them are the heinous characters that I have painted them to be Marine for instance …she has been what you would call a normal grandma on more than one occasion … and I have sometimes detected a certain fondness for me from Dabios and camaraderie from Miz Forkner.
The problem is … they keep on morphing … and I … stupefied and transfixed by their shifting personalities’ … I can’t see the wood for the trees …and I am virtually a sitting duck. Marine is the main one that comes to my mind … she would morph into this other character and not only in her behavior also in her appearance.
In this other mode her eyes which are normally hazel in colour turn black and become like slits .… she appears cold, alien, malevolent … I don’t really understand it …
Peter changed.
I’ve heard it said that dabbling in the occult world of séances and trying to contact the dead … is like handing out invitations for a whole bunch of ghosts to take up residence in your abode and create havoc.
For another ghost familiar only with astral shells of old friends and family. It can be a foray into an alien and more often than not a hostile and sinister world … and I am not going their way.
Sometimes I try to imagine things from their perspective … totally fed up up with the weirdo who keeps turning up on all their doorstops and ruining their plans and generally being a burden and a nuisance.
One day I went around to Marines house in the morning and sat on her bed and began chatting with her the way that mothers and daughters are wont to do. She awoke with a start. She was obviously frightened. I don’t think she recognized me …maybe she thought I was a vagrant or a miscreant … … Strangers
Khalil Gibran wrote of children … and their parents
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not of you.
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls.
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
Rosie changed … during that time when we would spend endless days hanging out with Mitch and Owan Dean at his parents house in Beauchamp Street listening to Beatles records and smoking …
Rosie stopped being Rosie … if someone were to ask me to describe her behavioral characteristics without reference to her outward visage … I would have to say that she had the demeanor of a grumpy old man and a very sleepy one too … because that was all she ever did.
Having being sequestered by this pair … a couple of old chooks … I would have to say if a character analysis is appropriate here … how can I describe this situation ? … slowly but surely we were being monopolized … it was always like that … these boys were the not like the ones I remembered … they were too old for that.
And Peter changed … who was he …there was a moment in the control room at the television studio …it was a passing moment because I never saw that Peter again.
What happened to Rosemary deBorge ? … the metamorphose kids and the kids from the establishmentarians? The gatherings in the dark woods …the road statues … the girls all in black and their theatrical street theatre performances … Agatha’s billowing black dress … the empty streets and forlorn maidens in distress pantomimes.
As is the way , whenever one of them ‘men’ attaches himself to me and this happens so insidiously that I often don’t notice until it’s too late and I am trapped like a fly in a spiders web … I begin to acquire mass and my appearance starts to change … and I lose whatever it was I had before they came into my energy field. I become immersed in matter and I lose myself.
Ok so where was I going with this … I had to leave Dean in the Hallway after Zac died … I changed … Rosie told me I broke his heart when I left him … I was indifferent … I didn’t care. I just wanted my old self back … my androgynous youthful self … not this dreary old women I had morphed into within a matter of months I was only 22 for goodness sake!.
I lost weight fast … I got harder in all ways … I became addicted to exercise … I rode my bike everywhere and worked out in the gym. I became vain about my appearance and reveled in my new found appeal. I lost my mental spark … and I was ambushed again …
During those brief halcyon days when I hung out with Zee in her Dad’s house while Chris Owen prowled about outside …before Jack came onto the scene … just before the end. We used to meet up the uni bar on certain weeknights to drink and play pool with some of the Maori boys.
One day Lulubelle swung by I hadn’t seen her since I left Sydney three years before. She arrived expectantly. She was angry and hostile towards me. She literally demanded to know how I had lost so much weight. I was so naïve … I should have wondered about that.
She looked like she did when I last saw her about two years ago … middle aged or thereabouts … I didn’t notice these weird age discrepancies in those days … like why did my mother look so old by comparison to other women of her supposed generation. I should know I had worked in two nursing homes by then and I know what real old age looks like. She has always looked ancient to me … virtually from the beginning.
I have deduced that I have still my things … my treasures … a physical self to shelter in … because I was born and I did live ‘a life’ albeit a shadowy sort of half life … but a life nevertheless … I still have my roads … my portals … but for how long … in that other life … the one I had to forfeit … I was not born … I did not exist … as I move from one life to no other will these things that I have …fade into nothingness … like the aports and engravings and the strange new buildings and weird sculptures that just appeared out of nowhere so long ago now … so too will the other stuff disappear … the stuff that never was … the dust. I am not being morbid about this Lillian ... I am just wondering what the future holds on this side of the fence … this city for instance. To some folk this is a jungle … I just can’t see it.
So why should I be surprised or even upset that the pearls my mother gave me for my 21st birthday … have disappeared into that ether as did my pearl earrings and my silver charm bracelet , my poems and other writings …a pink nightie and the photograph that never was.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Ghost World S
February 4 2014
Dear ‘Santo’ … ? … Sandy? Whatever … I have to ask you something very important! Do you remember that day on the Camino when Bandy Hop and me invented new nom de plumes for ourselves. Bandy came up with this really overly elaborate name for me which frankly I did not care for.
Tikala Veloria Le Conte … the thing is I had already invented my own non de plume. When I told him what is was … he burst out laughing and said it sounds like someone took their parka to the beach and got sand on it.
The thing is, that was my name before as well … before all this happened before I realized that my actual in between name was not actually my real name. All of it … was a fabrication. I was a part player in someone else’s catastrophic organizational crisis while … experiencing my own situational crises.
I have decided that this personage whoever he she or it might be interested to know about the incident in Glebe Park with the shoe lady … the mouse plague in 1984 and little lost boy on Mount Majura.
Back in those mysterious days when I still had my original ka … I used to ride my bike around the streets of the city at night … also Glebe park and around the triangulated sections of the foreshores.
You must remember … Santo … that in the old days where I am now here and probably in the future was too … I was actually living on a base on the Planet Mars … a situation involving lies and intrigue on both sides of my neighbours fences. I merely mention this because this is the Kanak I found myself in by the end of the year 2010 … can’t say exactly when anymore.
Well … one night I was riding my bike alone around Glebe Park …
… this happened during those ten days without my usual spying and adventure accomplice … Bendy.
Sooo … I was riding my bike through Glebe Park that night … when I happened upon a distraught woman from the Baltic regions.
She was crying about her shoes or rather the lack of them … a bagful of them to be precise … apparently her boss had made her get rid of them … also she had to take the shoes off that she had worn to work that day because they were either lost along with the others or they had made her feet ache … she said she had been crying in pain because of it and as a consequence of this … she was now limping terribly.
I finally managed to ascertain that she had lost a bag full of shoes in the shrubbery … I offered to do a ride around the park and keep an eye out … as it were … anyway I did not find them. When I got back she was relating the whole sorry saga to three boys of middle eastern appearance who were sitting in the shadows amongst the trees … then I noticed the bag she was carrying was full of shoes … When I confronted her with this … she became even more upset and clingy wanting me to go back to her place etc… I just thought you might like to know.
Years and Years ago … I used to sometimes go on long walks up mountains with Lulubelle …
Well one time … she was living in Hackett in those days … at the base of Mount Majura … Lulubelle and myself decided to walk up Mount Majura via the shrubbery … if there was a path to the top … I didn’t know about it … so near the top… somewhere… we come to this place where numerous stone alters and other ceremonial structures had been built …I lifted up one of the stones of the alters and saw a dead crow with its wings stretched out.
Lullubelle told me that witches had covens there … and also that her former flatmate had an identical twin sister that was a witch and a member of a Mount Majura Coven …
I don’t like witches much … and yes I know there are good witches … I am somewhat familiar with Wicca as a result of some of my interactions on the net … I am just not that interested …
Anyhoos we soon continued on our way … and presently came upon a young boy sitting by himself in the bush … he was playing with an unusual object … and I cannot recall exactly what it was … it was odd is all I can say. I asked him what he was doing … he said he was waiting for his Dad.
February ? 2014
Still desperately searching for clues to my own identity … I stumbled upon Lulubelles death notice in the New York Times … the other day. It seems she died in New York … 59th Street to be precise in the year 1889. She was buried in a black coffin on top of which a wreath of violets, lillies and roses in the shape of a cross had been laid. A whole bunch of people with the sir name of Harper were in attendance.
I think Lulubelle was my shadow twin and I was hers and vice versa. We met each other at the Dark Portal School for Young Ladies in 1976 … I think … and then lost contact with each other for about a year when she went on a Rotary Exchange Trip to America.
We hooked up again in 1979 and ended up living together in Rowan Dean’s Parents House in Beauchamp Street Deakin with his brother Phil, Gay Rob and later Allan Hawkins who turned up there after having spent years living in the Northern Territory with the Aboriginals.
We moved to Sydney the following year to pursue our studies in becoming actresses… and this is where things get really weird. At both Marines insistence and Lulubelles I had been talked into having an abortion in April of the previous year … I merely mention this because … unbeknownst to me … an abortion causes ripples along the timelines …
Like all the girls of my generation we had been brainwashed by the women’s liberation movement into thinking that a foetus is not a person and that our supposed ‘careers’ would be severely compromised by the intrusion of children into our lives … in my case it would have interfered with my career as an unpaid prostitute for a bunch of creeps … moreover … someone else had other plans for my unborn child … the fact that my future had already been mapped out for me by the head honchos of this fucked up planet did not occur to me.
Nor had it occurred to me in Japan when … aged seven … that I was not going to have a future and that in fact I had been languishing on death row for quite some time. I told Marine I wanted to be a singer when I grew up … we were in a taxi cab at the time and as usual I was singing in the backseat … I was floored by her response … You can’t sing … she said … coldly.
By happenstance we were on our way to a hospital type of establishment … Marine and Dabios had apparently come to the conclusion that I was mentally retarded and they needed confirmation of this. I must have failed this test because afterwards I was injected with something.
I am digressing …
Something really weird happened to me in Sydney … I lost my personality and I became invisible. As it happens I was sharing a room with Lulubelle in a two bedroom apartment in Neutral Bay because Walter had the other one.
Also I was leading a double life … the part of me that had no personality and was invisible was the part of me that was studying to be an actress. The other part … the more interesting one … I must say … was the one working in an old peoples home just down the road.
Possibly … as a consequence of my callous attitude towards Allan Hawkins who had a huge crush on me … and he was not the only one … I could not understand why … being so good looking and all … no one was paying me any attention or even looking at me … while Lulubelle had morphed into Miss Popularity Plus … not only that … suddenly she was the one that all the boys wanted … even the gay ones.
Now here is the weird thing … Lulubelle and I shared a bedroom and spent just about all our time together either at the actresses school or at the nursing home down the road. I was the nurse and she did all the cooking. In our spare time we would scour the op shops for vintage clothes and old ladies coats.
Apparently … and how could I have been unaware of this? … Lulubelle had fallen madly in love with a Leonardo Di Caprice look alike by the name of Simon Maryn. I remember seeing him once in the theatre where the plays were put on and where the renowned actors and actresses would lecture us.
He was still wearing his school uniform when I saw him … I never actually met him. So if Lulubelle was having a relationship with him and I was living with her … sharing a room … no less … how come I never crossed paths with him again after seeing him that first day across the room.
Years later Lulubelle told me that he was the love of her life and that she had had an abortion to him. She never told me how it ended … all I know is that he married someone else and had a child … a little girl by the name of Wednesday.
To cut a long story short … that winter Lulubelle found a new abode … a mansion down the road and embarked on a series of relationships with gay guys one of whom was a prostitute who was the best buddy of Elton J.
John even wrote a song about his relations with Craig … called Crocodile Rock.
Dear ‘Santo’ … ? … Sandy? Whatever … I have to ask you something very important! Do you remember that day on the Camino when Bandy Hop and me invented new nom de plumes for ourselves. Bandy came up with this really overly elaborate name for me which frankly I did not care for.
Tikala Veloria Le Conte … the thing is I had already invented my own non de plume. When I told him what is was … he burst out laughing and said it sounds like someone took their parka to the beach and got sand on it.
The thing is, that was my name before as well … before all this happened before I realized that my actual in between name was not actually my real name. All of it … was a fabrication. I was a part player in someone else’s catastrophic organizational crisis while … experiencing my own situational crises.
I have decided that this personage whoever he she or it might be interested to know about the incident in Glebe Park with the shoe lady … the mouse plague in 1984 and little lost boy on Mount Majura.
Back in those mysterious days when I still had my original ka … I used to ride my bike around the streets of the city at night … also Glebe park and around the triangulated sections of the foreshores.
You must remember … Santo … that in the old days where I am now here and probably in the future was too … I was actually living on a base on the Planet Mars … a situation involving lies and intrigue on both sides of my neighbours fences. I merely mention this because this is the Kanak I found myself in by the end of the year 2010 … can’t say exactly when anymore.
Well … one night I was riding my bike alone around Glebe Park …
… this happened during those ten days without my usual spying and adventure accomplice … Bendy.
Sooo … I was riding my bike through Glebe Park that night … when I happened upon a distraught woman from the Baltic regions.
She was crying about her shoes or rather the lack of them … a bagful of them to be precise … apparently her boss had made her get rid of them … also she had to take the shoes off that she had worn to work that day because they were either lost along with the others or they had made her feet ache … she said she had been crying in pain because of it and as a consequence of this … she was now limping terribly.
I finally managed to ascertain that she had lost a bag full of shoes in the shrubbery … I offered to do a ride around the park and keep an eye out … as it were … anyway I did not find them. When I got back she was relating the whole sorry saga to three boys of middle eastern appearance who were sitting in the shadows amongst the trees … then I noticed the bag she was carrying was full of shoes … When I confronted her with this … she became even more upset and clingy wanting me to go back to her place etc… I just thought you might like to know.
Years and Years ago … I used to sometimes go on long walks up mountains with Lulubelle …
Well one time … she was living in Hackett in those days … at the base of Mount Majura … Lulubelle and myself decided to walk up Mount Majura via the shrubbery … if there was a path to the top … I didn’t know about it … so near the top… somewhere… we come to this place where numerous stone alters and other ceremonial structures had been built …I lifted up one of the stones of the alters and saw a dead crow with its wings stretched out.
Lullubelle told me that witches had covens there … and also that her former flatmate had an identical twin sister that was a witch and a member of a Mount Majura Coven …
I don’t like witches much … and yes I know there are good witches … I am somewhat familiar with Wicca as a result of some of my interactions on the net … I am just not that interested …
Anyhoos we soon continued on our way … and presently came upon a young boy sitting by himself in the bush … he was playing with an unusual object … and I cannot recall exactly what it was … it was odd is all I can say. I asked him what he was doing … he said he was waiting for his Dad.
February ? 2014
Still desperately searching for clues to my own identity … I stumbled upon Lulubelles death notice in the New York Times … the other day. It seems she died in New York … 59th Street to be precise in the year 1889. She was buried in a black coffin on top of which a wreath of violets, lillies and roses in the shape of a cross had been laid. A whole bunch of people with the sir name of Harper were in attendance.
I think Lulubelle was my shadow twin and I was hers and vice versa. We met each other at the Dark Portal School for Young Ladies in 1976 … I think … and then lost contact with each other for about a year when she went on a Rotary Exchange Trip to America.
We hooked up again in 1979 and ended up living together in Rowan Dean’s Parents House in Beauchamp Street Deakin with his brother Phil, Gay Rob and later Allan Hawkins who turned up there after having spent years living in the Northern Territory with the Aboriginals.
We moved to Sydney the following year to pursue our studies in becoming actresses… and this is where things get really weird. At both Marines insistence and Lulubelles I had been talked into having an abortion in April of the previous year … I merely mention this because … unbeknownst to me … an abortion causes ripples along the timelines …
Like all the girls of my generation we had been brainwashed by the women’s liberation movement into thinking that a foetus is not a person and that our supposed ‘careers’ would be severely compromised by the intrusion of children into our lives … in my case it would have interfered with my career as an unpaid prostitute for a bunch of creeps … moreover … someone else had other plans for my unborn child … the fact that my future had already been mapped out for me by the head honchos of this fucked up planet did not occur to me.
Nor had it occurred to me in Japan when … aged seven … that I was not going to have a future and that in fact I had been languishing on death row for quite some time. I told Marine I wanted to be a singer when I grew up … we were in a taxi cab at the time and as usual I was singing in the backseat … I was floored by her response … You can’t sing … she said … coldly.
By happenstance we were on our way to a hospital type of establishment … Marine and Dabios had apparently come to the conclusion that I was mentally retarded and they needed confirmation of this. I must have failed this test because afterwards I was injected with something.
I am digressing …
Something really weird happened to me in Sydney … I lost my personality and I became invisible. As it happens I was sharing a room with Lulubelle in a two bedroom apartment in Neutral Bay because Walter had the other one.
Also I was leading a double life … the part of me that had no personality and was invisible was the part of me that was studying to be an actress. The other part … the more interesting one … I must say … was the one working in an old peoples home just down the road.
Possibly … as a consequence of my callous attitude towards Allan Hawkins who had a huge crush on me … and he was not the only one … I could not understand why … being so good looking and all … no one was paying me any attention or even looking at me … while Lulubelle had morphed into Miss Popularity Plus … not only that … suddenly she was the one that all the boys wanted … even the gay ones.
Now here is the weird thing … Lulubelle and I shared a bedroom and spent just about all our time together either at the actresses school or at the nursing home down the road. I was the nurse and she did all the cooking. In our spare time we would scour the op shops for vintage clothes and old ladies coats.
Apparently … and how could I have been unaware of this? … Lulubelle had fallen madly in love with a Leonardo Di Caprice look alike by the name of Simon Maryn. I remember seeing him once in the theatre where the plays were put on and where the renowned actors and actresses would lecture us.
He was still wearing his school uniform when I saw him … I never actually met him. So if Lulubelle was having a relationship with him and I was living with her … sharing a room … no less … how come I never crossed paths with him again after seeing him that first day across the room.
Years later Lulubelle told me that he was the love of her life and that she had had an abortion to him. She never told me how it ended … all I know is that he married someone else and had a child … a little girl by the name of Wednesday.
To cut a long story short … that winter Lulubelle found a new abode … a mansion down the road and embarked on a series of relationships with gay guys one of whom was a prostitute who was the best buddy of Elton J.
John even wrote a song about his relations with Craig … called Crocodile Rock.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Sandy lands back in Kanak
Thursday October 17 2013
Dearest Lillian Web Wing
How’s Panther Pus … last I heard … she was sick
Evidently I’ve been in Bargaloo while you’ve been in Kanak doing God knows what!
Don’t feel sorry for Antoin … he would have been hit by a chunk of metal if it hadn’t been for Panther Pus … and who knows what could have happened to Panther Puss or her whereabouts had it not been for Antoin’s dangerously out of control tooth abscess.
sigh … demolition of the fruits and veggies shop was sad … I saw it the next day. It looked like a bombing site! I vicariously involved myself in the refurbishment of the new shop … and witnessed the most tragic occurrence … introduction of really stupid uniforms for the cashiers…that’s when I left.
You mentioned that you had broken some of your ribs and that you had to work like a slave for three days scraping mould of old refrigerators and other types of really shitty jobs when you were half dead … and that you were virtually Antoin’s prisoner and his slave. Wow … that’s too bad Lilly.
Next time you walk into a steel pole. Don’t look back.
Anyhoo’s I’m back in Kanak ... again … trying to facilitate some kind of mutual fascination connection. I’ve started a Strange Ways learning program and am currently in cohoots with others like myself … strangers and the very strange.
Just the other days … walking around Kanak … I was reminded of that day … nearly three years ago … the sun was so bright that day …and city walk had been transformed into big market square with heaps of stalls selling homemade cakes, cookies, jars of relish, pickles, crocheted items, second books, plants, clothes, the usual crafty things etc … I remember asking one of the stall holders … what was the occasion ? She told me the market was a regular Saturday morning event and had been for years.
But not in my timeline … many Saturday mornings have come and gone before and since then and I have not seen it since ... or before then.
Something like that has happened again Lily! In Civic Square … a few days ago I happened to notice that a new vegetarian take way establishment had opened on the corner of the Central Plaza Building.
The nice lady who made my vegetarian hot dog … and one for Bandy hoots too … told me that the takeaway opened either one month ago or six weeks ago. Those were her words. Yet I remember being there very recently … less than a month ago and not seeing a vegetarian café there. It’s not that I didn’t notice it… it’s that I noticed … as usual … an empty space. All the shops in the Plaza Arcade are unoccupied and have been for a long time.
Years ago during my retro rayban sunglasses phase … I used to frequent the sunglass shop on the upper level of the plaza arcade. It was the best rayban shop in town and the proprietor – a rayban enthusiast and specialist was a very nice gentleman.
In those days the Plaza Arcade was a hive of activity. A designer shop that sold unusual flouncy dresses was an established business there…much in the same way that Millers of Manuka is to Manuka or the Down Town Milk Bar is to the Cinema and the coffee shops.
By happenstance this dress shop was a favourite of Marine’s. Marine wore one of those dresses to a party at Vesslies very modern, very stylish apartment … the night she hooked up with Ricardo … an English gentleman who had once lived in Africa and a known associate of Colonial émigré’s … but I am digressing …
About the Plaza Arcade … When did it change? Ever so slowly and unnoticeably it had morphed into the abode of a dangerous temptress. A notorious crosswise vampire temptress had evidently cornered the abode and turned it into an instrument for creating crosswire chaos for her own very peculiar purposes.
As for how this turn of events affects me personally … it doesn’t … it was an out of bounds type of place and I knew not to go there without knowing why or how. Sooo not so long ago … I noticed the entrance to it … and I remembered it and the face of the questionable lady … gothic and seriously sucking on a lollipop. Sooo me and Bandyhoots decided to investigate … being very nonchalant about it and not the least suspicious or dubious.
Some of you who might have noticed me then or had gone looking for me or who are running away from me and or towards me … some of you will try to imagine this and some of you will say … ah yes I remember … the blonde hairwig, the dark glasses, the little black dress and others will remember my cousin “it” while others can only recollect a vague memory of a creature resembling… possibly disguised … a blanket of tripe coverall with rayban accessory type of eyes.
Lily … the main thing I wanted to talk to you about … is how close we came … the closest we could ever be … barring an atom smashing incident … is that how it started … not with a bomb but with an experiment?
There have been a variety of curious experiences and coincidences that I have not included in my special reports and letters to either you or the people I work for or against. Now if I can just collect my thoughts and place them in coherent order.
A few months ago I had one of those dreams that was so vivid it felt real … I saw a planetoid very much like how I imagine Earth would have looked like when our solar system was forming… this planetoid was a perfectly round sphere of boiling lava bubbling up between a network of tectonic plates of black rock. Black and red … just like the object I snapped with my camera at Lake Cargelligo … which I don’t have because I lost that camera.
In my dream I saw this planetoid come toward earth and not actually hit it …rather come within about three metres of hitting it and then stop so that it hovered above our planet and did not actually smash into it as you would expect.
One night coming back from Maya’s house a few months ago … I saw a huge comet streak across the sky … if it hit Kanak and wiped it out … it’s already ancient history.
I took a picture of an orb that was so big it filled the night sky and of another that was blue and green like planet earth. Was I experiencing or seeing these momentous events one step removed … so it’s always business as usual in Kanak. Evidently this must have happened to a planet I was living on and was perhaps so sudden and unexpected and total, by the time any of us figured out what happened, it’s ancient history. In Kanak …time passes without any concept of time passing or awareness of how much time has passed.
Perhaps the ultimate end game in any atom smashing experiment is a planets smashing into each other episode. By the time you realize what the ramifications are … it just happened.
This smash up possibly fixed or will fix any more rips. I have to say this little problem follows me everywhere I go … sometimes manifesting as orbs, or a sudden fall … finding oneself surrounded by lizard men or on a spaceship with grey aliens. Feeling like you are being sucked into a black hole in one location while atom bomb testing is occurring in another. Underground for instance … in the Pacific Ocean or at outback Maralinga …such as occurred in the seventies and eighties.
Exchanging microbes with a school friend or a stranger on a bus opens up a mine field of possibilities both good and bad and profoundly life changing.
Some interactions, seemingly mundane and pedestrian or just plain annoying are space folding events … how can you tell? It was and still is all so innocuous.
Then there’s the problem of suddenly having to deal with alien consciousness’s in your own home … like your mum or your dad or your dad’s second wife … a husband’s foreign mistress or some stranger you met on the highway.
Losing touch with people on your wavelength is fraught with tears and confusion … likewise … having to share your abode with creatures that are out of synch with you can be downright dangerous and scary or just horribly confusing like when your husband or your boyfriend suddenly turns and you don’t know why.
I know for sure that mosquitos and humans are a mismatch. And some poisonous snakes have a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A spider out of synch with your timeline can assume vast and monstrous proportions. Imagine a generation of people born with the consciousness of an insectoid race because of a mismatch occurring way back when. CHAOS.
Being unable to relate to the people who are supposedly related to you or close to you is bad enough… as you would know Lily. Being unable to connect with nearly everybody is wearing and frustrating. Not being able to fit into the society you were born into or finding there is no common ground between you and your parents and wondering who they are and what happened to your family. Being horribly confused … becoming more marginalised and isolated as time goes on.
When the geography of a place and the geometry of space are imposed on a space time matrix that is vertical in its orientation everything changes. Events that occurred billions of years ago in linear time, suddenly start impacting on the here and now in endless weird and wonderful ways.
About that planet … I surmised this … ‘our planet’ and that other one appeared to both possess diametrically congruent magnetic polarities. A scenario indicating both planets share the same elements and must of at one have time shared the same planet body.
What I think happened is this, Australia originally home of the Asian race and their twin opposites … the aboriginal people … when it was a planet called Mars and still is and before Earth morphed into Venus …. Atlantis/Australia was mined so heavily for its metals that it interfered with the ability of both planets to remain fixed in their orbits … as a consequence of the law of attraction between metals and other elements.
This could have happened very early on or very late in the formation of our solar system …. When the lands were spread out around a sphere of water … before they became planets.
I am a keen observer of everything around me. I am a noticer of random happenings and coincidental juxtaposition’s. Too many to remember all of them. Enough of them to pique my interest and inclinations.
The reason why I am going on and on about this is because of something that happened outside supabarn yesterday afternoon.
I had a near miss encounter with two Asian boys directly related to the Alien Asiatics who abducted me Japan. Technically speaking there must have been only one degree of separation between us. An extreme intense wave of dark magnetic pulling energy swept over me … we had each come as far as we could go for there was now an equal and opposite wave of energy that was like thick glue exerting the exact opposite force. My head started to ache and I began to feel ill. They moved on fairly quickly and symptoms abated. It was a while before I was fully recovered.
But then I saw the weirdest thing … A ‘goatish’, older gent, slightly Scottish looking, wearing an eye patch that made him look like one of those annoying pirates from the old days when Kanak was upwraught in thunderclouds, confusion and multitudinous storms. He moved into the position diametrically one degree removed from me … that they had vacated. He was trying to call someone from his mobile.
Lilly he was wearing a tea shirt with a picture of your cat Panther Puss on it! Above the picture of Panther Puss there was just one word. WANTED.
For what? Might I ask … Is Panther Puss guilty of being a criminal now?
For what crime is she purported to have been charged with? Panther Puss was suffering horrible experiences in abandoned alley ways with everyone staring at her and being really surprised or really alarmed…when the real criminals were running around undetected and causing a ruckus.
I could see clearly now and for the first time get my head around the concept of the past, present and future all unravelling at one … into an eternal now time, with no beginning and no end… which can be a depressing thought … sometimes.
I have since witnessed instant karma playback scenes on the television and seen for myself the instant karmic consequences of the wanton killing of animals by supposed trusted caretakers of the land.
For example I watched a documentary on Kakadu a few days ago and became quite alarmed by the attitude of an old aboriginal woman … and a traditional owner of the land … towards the migrating geese flying over Kakadu. In just one day she shot about 20 geese, proudly displaying their dead bodies to the cameras. Evidently she doesn’t like chicken. And she must feel like she’s doing her bit for the community by supplying the locals with so much bush tucker …
She was crazed looking as well, she had blonde fuzzy hair and red eyes. I didn’t see any meaningful connection between her and the land … her joy at killing and her callous attitude make her a dangerous force to be reckoned with. I remember being very angry and upset about it that day and the next.
And the very next night … on another doco … four corners I think …I saw her again …she was a member of a tribe called Jarma or something like that that had something to do with a council representing Aboriginal people being ripped off by the guy in charge of it … Mr Lee … who used up all the funds basically having fun.
It was exact same woman as the one in Kakadu … only she had straight white hair and normal eyes. She was doubly pissed off about the situation because … as she put it … “the money’s gone … we’ll never get it back” …and the guy who misappropriated it …Mr Lee … he got his old job back as head of the council and manager of the funds because … guess what Lilly? … that is what his fathers wanted!
With so much blood on her hands, her path through the shadow worlds becomes a hit and miss affair littered with obstacles and traps that has something to do with metal bits and jagged line and guns pointing at each others strangers in the dark.
On Saturday Bandyhoots and myself visited Tidbinbilla Wildlife Sanctuary ... I saw one mother kangaroo with a Joey in its pouch standing by the information billboard and welcome sign at the entrance to the sanctuary … and on the way out I saw another mother kangaroo with a joey in its pouch and each had taken up a position either side of the welcome sign.
I read that the last rock wallaby seen in Tidbinbilla was in 1959. Also that they had been shot at for fun … and that their abode soon thereafter became overrun with goats.
It was sad… possibly the best outcome for them in the future worlds given their proclivity to rocks and the close proximity to lizards and other amphibious creatures using the crevices in the granite rocks to seek shelter in hard times. While it may not have been a big issue for either species then, close proximity could be a problem in other dimensions …that’s why the third force became necessary … in my humble opinion.
A sign about the early days of life forms alluded to this fact. It was the addition of a third presence or energy into the cosmic soup that brought about a harmonious outcome to an otherwise ongoing two way battle that just went on and on. It culminated in perfect hydrogen to oxygen balance of 21 per cent.
Lilly I have been up all night writing this letter to you and it’s time for me to go to bed. It’s ok to be back in Kanak this time … I am dealing with my situation in a much more mature and level headed way these days and exploring new forms of expression... and basically trying not to get too swept up in the drama of it all. My hunch was confirmed on the drive home . On the road out from the sanctuary I saw more evidence of nature’s guiding hand in the reorganizations of matter out of chaos to bring harmony and balance back into the worlds.
What I saw was a red belly black snake, lying dead by the side of the road in the shape of a U. It was a close call.
The big world of the universe is an echo of the quantum field. The thought that goes into creation and the ability to guide creation and change the world in the process can be orchestrated in the quantum world … and only a ghost can live in a black hole … only a ghost can build a pyramid that can fit into the palm of a hand or paint pictures that appear in cornfields in other countries … only a ghost can be in two places at the same time.
Date Unknown …. Place Unknown
Dearest Dear
Following on from last night’s crash of the twin towers and the subsequent asteroid and planetary collisions I have been propelled so far back into your planet’s past that I might as well be living on another planet in the future.
I received a message from my Great Grandfather re … the LA Hootabelles which both surprised and alarmed me.
Danton is gone now … another city from another city basically crash landed on him … I hope he’s doing OK in the land of the dead and that he doesn’t make the same mistakes that Malamut made or Leela …
I do know one thing … next time I see him flying by … it won’t be on the beach with Andy and a white Eagle …
Rest in Peace Andy … I will always love you
With love from your Mum .
Dearest Lillian Web Wing
How’s Panther Pus … last I heard … she was sick
Evidently I’ve been in Bargaloo while you’ve been in Kanak doing God knows what!
Don’t feel sorry for Antoin … he would have been hit by a chunk of metal if it hadn’t been for Panther Pus … and who knows what could have happened to Panther Puss or her whereabouts had it not been for Antoin’s dangerously out of control tooth abscess.
sigh … demolition of the fruits and veggies shop was sad … I saw it the next day. It looked like a bombing site! I vicariously involved myself in the refurbishment of the new shop … and witnessed the most tragic occurrence … introduction of really stupid uniforms for the cashiers…that’s when I left.
You mentioned that you had broken some of your ribs and that you had to work like a slave for three days scraping mould of old refrigerators and other types of really shitty jobs when you were half dead … and that you were virtually Antoin’s prisoner and his slave. Wow … that’s too bad Lilly.
Next time you walk into a steel pole. Don’t look back.
Anyhoo’s I’m back in Kanak ... again … trying to facilitate some kind of mutual fascination connection. I’ve started a Strange Ways learning program and am currently in cohoots with others like myself … strangers and the very strange.
Just the other days … walking around Kanak … I was reminded of that day … nearly three years ago … the sun was so bright that day …and city walk had been transformed into big market square with heaps of stalls selling homemade cakes, cookies, jars of relish, pickles, crocheted items, second books, plants, clothes, the usual crafty things etc … I remember asking one of the stall holders … what was the occasion ? She told me the market was a regular Saturday morning event and had been for years.
But not in my timeline … many Saturday mornings have come and gone before and since then and I have not seen it since ... or before then.
Something like that has happened again Lily! In Civic Square … a few days ago I happened to notice that a new vegetarian take way establishment had opened on the corner of the Central Plaza Building.
The nice lady who made my vegetarian hot dog … and one for Bandy hoots too … told me that the takeaway opened either one month ago or six weeks ago. Those were her words. Yet I remember being there very recently … less than a month ago and not seeing a vegetarian café there. It’s not that I didn’t notice it… it’s that I noticed … as usual … an empty space. All the shops in the Plaza Arcade are unoccupied and have been for a long time.
Years ago during my retro rayban sunglasses phase … I used to frequent the sunglass shop on the upper level of the plaza arcade. It was the best rayban shop in town and the proprietor – a rayban enthusiast and specialist was a very nice gentleman.
In those days the Plaza Arcade was a hive of activity. A designer shop that sold unusual flouncy dresses was an established business there…much in the same way that Millers of Manuka is to Manuka or the Down Town Milk Bar is to the Cinema and the coffee shops.
By happenstance this dress shop was a favourite of Marine’s. Marine wore one of those dresses to a party at Vesslies very modern, very stylish apartment … the night she hooked up with Ricardo … an English gentleman who had once lived in Africa and a known associate of Colonial émigré’s … but I am digressing …
About the Plaza Arcade … When did it change? Ever so slowly and unnoticeably it had morphed into the abode of a dangerous temptress. A notorious crosswise vampire temptress had evidently cornered the abode and turned it into an instrument for creating crosswire chaos for her own very peculiar purposes.
As for how this turn of events affects me personally … it doesn’t … it was an out of bounds type of place and I knew not to go there without knowing why or how. Sooo not so long ago … I noticed the entrance to it … and I remembered it and the face of the questionable lady … gothic and seriously sucking on a lollipop. Sooo me and Bandyhoots decided to investigate … being very nonchalant about it and not the least suspicious or dubious.
Some of you who might have noticed me then or had gone looking for me or who are running away from me and or towards me … some of you will try to imagine this and some of you will say … ah yes I remember … the blonde hairwig, the dark glasses, the little black dress and others will remember my cousin “it” while others can only recollect a vague memory of a creature resembling… possibly disguised … a blanket of tripe coverall with rayban accessory type of eyes.
Lily … the main thing I wanted to talk to you about … is how close we came … the closest we could ever be … barring an atom smashing incident … is that how it started … not with a bomb but with an experiment?
There have been a variety of curious experiences and coincidences that I have not included in my special reports and letters to either you or the people I work for or against. Now if I can just collect my thoughts and place them in coherent order.
A few months ago I had one of those dreams that was so vivid it felt real … I saw a planetoid very much like how I imagine Earth would have looked like when our solar system was forming… this planetoid was a perfectly round sphere of boiling lava bubbling up between a network of tectonic plates of black rock. Black and red … just like the object I snapped with my camera at Lake Cargelligo … which I don’t have because I lost that camera.
In my dream I saw this planetoid come toward earth and not actually hit it …rather come within about three metres of hitting it and then stop so that it hovered above our planet and did not actually smash into it as you would expect.
One night coming back from Maya’s house a few months ago … I saw a huge comet streak across the sky … if it hit Kanak and wiped it out … it’s already ancient history.
I took a picture of an orb that was so big it filled the night sky and of another that was blue and green like planet earth. Was I experiencing or seeing these momentous events one step removed … so it’s always business as usual in Kanak. Evidently this must have happened to a planet I was living on and was perhaps so sudden and unexpected and total, by the time any of us figured out what happened, it’s ancient history. In Kanak …time passes without any concept of time passing or awareness of how much time has passed.
Perhaps the ultimate end game in any atom smashing experiment is a planets smashing into each other episode. By the time you realize what the ramifications are … it just happened.
This smash up possibly fixed or will fix any more rips. I have to say this little problem follows me everywhere I go … sometimes manifesting as orbs, or a sudden fall … finding oneself surrounded by lizard men or on a spaceship with grey aliens. Feeling like you are being sucked into a black hole in one location while atom bomb testing is occurring in another. Underground for instance … in the Pacific Ocean or at outback Maralinga …such as occurred in the seventies and eighties.
Exchanging microbes with a school friend or a stranger on a bus opens up a mine field of possibilities both good and bad and profoundly life changing.
Some interactions, seemingly mundane and pedestrian or just plain annoying are space folding events … how can you tell? It was and still is all so innocuous.
Then there’s the problem of suddenly having to deal with alien consciousness’s in your own home … like your mum or your dad or your dad’s second wife … a husband’s foreign mistress or some stranger you met on the highway.
Losing touch with people on your wavelength is fraught with tears and confusion … likewise … having to share your abode with creatures that are out of synch with you can be downright dangerous and scary or just horribly confusing like when your husband or your boyfriend suddenly turns and you don’t know why.
I know for sure that mosquitos and humans are a mismatch. And some poisonous snakes have a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A spider out of synch with your timeline can assume vast and monstrous proportions. Imagine a generation of people born with the consciousness of an insectoid race because of a mismatch occurring way back when. CHAOS.
Being unable to relate to the people who are supposedly related to you or close to you is bad enough… as you would know Lily. Being unable to connect with nearly everybody is wearing and frustrating. Not being able to fit into the society you were born into or finding there is no common ground between you and your parents and wondering who they are and what happened to your family. Being horribly confused … becoming more marginalised and isolated as time goes on.
When the geography of a place and the geometry of space are imposed on a space time matrix that is vertical in its orientation everything changes. Events that occurred billions of years ago in linear time, suddenly start impacting on the here and now in endless weird and wonderful ways.
About that planet … I surmised this … ‘our planet’ and that other one appeared to both possess diametrically congruent magnetic polarities. A scenario indicating both planets share the same elements and must of at one have time shared the same planet body.
What I think happened is this, Australia originally home of the Asian race and their twin opposites … the aboriginal people … when it was a planet called Mars and still is and before Earth morphed into Venus …. Atlantis/Australia was mined so heavily for its metals that it interfered with the ability of both planets to remain fixed in their orbits … as a consequence of the law of attraction between metals and other elements.
This could have happened very early on or very late in the formation of our solar system …. When the lands were spread out around a sphere of water … before they became planets.
I am a keen observer of everything around me. I am a noticer of random happenings and coincidental juxtaposition’s. Too many to remember all of them. Enough of them to pique my interest and inclinations.
The reason why I am going on and on about this is because of something that happened outside supabarn yesterday afternoon.
I had a near miss encounter with two Asian boys directly related to the Alien Asiatics who abducted me Japan. Technically speaking there must have been only one degree of separation between us. An extreme intense wave of dark magnetic pulling energy swept over me … we had each come as far as we could go for there was now an equal and opposite wave of energy that was like thick glue exerting the exact opposite force. My head started to ache and I began to feel ill. They moved on fairly quickly and symptoms abated. It was a while before I was fully recovered.
But then I saw the weirdest thing … A ‘goatish’, older gent, slightly Scottish looking, wearing an eye patch that made him look like one of those annoying pirates from the old days when Kanak was upwraught in thunderclouds, confusion and multitudinous storms. He moved into the position diametrically one degree removed from me … that they had vacated. He was trying to call someone from his mobile.
Lilly he was wearing a tea shirt with a picture of your cat Panther Puss on it! Above the picture of Panther Puss there was just one word. WANTED.
For what? Might I ask … Is Panther Puss guilty of being a criminal now?
For what crime is she purported to have been charged with? Panther Puss was suffering horrible experiences in abandoned alley ways with everyone staring at her and being really surprised or really alarmed…when the real criminals were running around undetected and causing a ruckus.
I could see clearly now and for the first time get my head around the concept of the past, present and future all unravelling at one … into an eternal now time, with no beginning and no end… which can be a depressing thought … sometimes.
I have since witnessed instant karma playback scenes on the television and seen for myself the instant karmic consequences of the wanton killing of animals by supposed trusted caretakers of the land.
For example I watched a documentary on Kakadu a few days ago and became quite alarmed by the attitude of an old aboriginal woman … and a traditional owner of the land … towards the migrating geese flying over Kakadu. In just one day she shot about 20 geese, proudly displaying their dead bodies to the cameras. Evidently she doesn’t like chicken. And she must feel like she’s doing her bit for the community by supplying the locals with so much bush tucker …
She was crazed looking as well, she had blonde fuzzy hair and red eyes. I didn’t see any meaningful connection between her and the land … her joy at killing and her callous attitude make her a dangerous force to be reckoned with. I remember being very angry and upset about it that day and the next.
And the very next night … on another doco … four corners I think …I saw her again …she was a member of a tribe called Jarma or something like that that had something to do with a council representing Aboriginal people being ripped off by the guy in charge of it … Mr Lee … who used up all the funds basically having fun.
It was exact same woman as the one in Kakadu … only she had straight white hair and normal eyes. She was doubly pissed off about the situation because … as she put it … “the money’s gone … we’ll never get it back” …and the guy who misappropriated it …Mr Lee … he got his old job back as head of the council and manager of the funds because … guess what Lilly? … that is what his fathers wanted!
With so much blood on her hands, her path through the shadow worlds becomes a hit and miss affair littered with obstacles and traps that has something to do with metal bits and jagged line and guns pointing at each others strangers in the dark.
On Saturday Bandyhoots and myself visited Tidbinbilla Wildlife Sanctuary ... I saw one mother kangaroo with a Joey in its pouch standing by the information billboard and welcome sign at the entrance to the sanctuary … and on the way out I saw another mother kangaroo with a joey in its pouch and each had taken up a position either side of the welcome sign.
I read that the last rock wallaby seen in Tidbinbilla was in 1959. Also that they had been shot at for fun … and that their abode soon thereafter became overrun with goats.
It was sad… possibly the best outcome for them in the future worlds given their proclivity to rocks and the close proximity to lizards and other amphibious creatures using the crevices in the granite rocks to seek shelter in hard times. While it may not have been a big issue for either species then, close proximity could be a problem in other dimensions …that’s why the third force became necessary … in my humble opinion.
A sign about the early days of life forms alluded to this fact. It was the addition of a third presence or energy into the cosmic soup that brought about a harmonious outcome to an otherwise ongoing two way battle that just went on and on. It culminated in perfect hydrogen to oxygen balance of 21 per cent.
Lilly I have been up all night writing this letter to you and it’s time for me to go to bed. It’s ok to be back in Kanak this time … I am dealing with my situation in a much more mature and level headed way these days and exploring new forms of expression... and basically trying not to get too swept up in the drama of it all. My hunch was confirmed on the drive home . On the road out from the sanctuary I saw more evidence of nature’s guiding hand in the reorganizations of matter out of chaos to bring harmony and balance back into the worlds.
What I saw was a red belly black snake, lying dead by the side of the road in the shape of a U. It was a close call.
The big world of the universe is an echo of the quantum field. The thought that goes into creation and the ability to guide creation and change the world in the process can be orchestrated in the quantum world … and only a ghost can live in a black hole … only a ghost can build a pyramid that can fit into the palm of a hand or paint pictures that appear in cornfields in other countries … only a ghost can be in two places at the same time.
Date Unknown …. Place Unknown
Dearest Dear
Following on from last night’s crash of the twin towers and the subsequent asteroid and planetary collisions I have been propelled so far back into your planet’s past that I might as well be living on another planet in the future.
I received a message from my Great Grandfather re … the LA Hootabelles which both surprised and alarmed me.
Danton is gone now … another city from another city basically crash landed on him … I hope he’s doing OK in the land of the dead and that he doesn’t make the same mistakes that Malamut made or Leela …
I do know one thing … next time I see him flying by … it won’t be on the beach with Andy and a white Eagle …
Rest in Peace Andy … I will always love you
With love from your Mum .
Monday, September 30, 2013
The Veil Sometimes Slips
Dear Bandyhoots,
Today is September the thirtieth and I just remembered a whole bunch of things I wanted to tell you about … like the dream I had a few nights ago … a recent excursion to the Skull Islands … the conversation I had with a lion in the African Bush and my sightings of a sailor on the high seas.
Last things first … a few nights ago I had a dream that I was on a mountain climbing expedition with two strange men. We had been trudging in the snow for quite a while when we arrived at a village that was notable only for the number of tents there were in what appeared to be the main street. I noticed that one of the tents was very small. A peek inside revealed a little girl of about five years old with brown hair, brown eyes and freckles … and the most endearing smile.
There and then I decided to carry her up the mountain … so I bundled her up … tent included … and with her still in it … and proceeded on my journey. It was a very long and arduous journey up the mountain … almost vertical in fact. Finally … upon reaching the summit … we arrived at a small village which reminded me a lot of those little villages in the Himalayas. Houses and Lodges made of wood … cosy fires in large communal living areas, brightly coloured woollen wall hangings and cushion covers … narrow little alleyways and dirty snow … also rickety wooden bridges connecting one cliff to another. This village had one such bridge … connecting one part of the village to another.
It was at this point that I decided to take the girl back down the mountain … because it only just occurred to me that her mother might be worrying about her whereabouts.
So back down the mountain I went and sure enough when I got to the village, the police were there. I handed the child over to the police and they gave her back to her mum. Later on I remember walking very closely behind them for a while. Either the mother could not see me or chose not to acknowledge me. I decided not to go back up the mountain again … mainly because I just could not be bothered.
Bandyhoots … do you remember me telling you about that exciting escape from the reptilian spaceship a few weeks backs and how we went north and had to drive through fire and nuclear waste etc etc …. Well … about a week later I got this terrible feeling that the reptilians were back in town … I saw their spaceship again …
So Bandy and me decided to head south this time … towards the southern sea. It was five minutes to five when we emerged from the elevator into the basement level car park. Four grim faced oldish ladies were waiting there to go up. I had a bad feeling about them.
It was an interesting drive … to the say the least that I can say … about it. The reptilian spaceship followed us for a while … and then we lost sight of it.
Leaving Queenstown I noticed the first of many teddy bears … that I would see that night … tied to a tree. Indeed that whole section of the Kings Highway between Queenstown and the Clyde Mountain was strewn with teddy bears and even one gorilla teddy bear tied to the trunks of trees.
On the lower part of the Clyde, where the terrain on either side of the road has levelled out … I noticed a most peculiar thing. I should say at this point that I have made this journey a hundred times … more or less … and I’ve never once noticed any campfires burning in these areas. And yet I saw quite a few that night … including one or two bonfires . I know this road, there are no camping grounds there and no car access.
At the bay we ate fish and chips. Spent the night parked by the roadside adjacent to South Bro Beach.
There’s not much more to report really. Bandy and me walked around Skull Island the next day and I took pictures. I made crystal and other offerings to the sea creatures. I went for a quick swim in Shark Bay. It was freezing! And then we drove home.
Bandy is convinced that I am leading a double life as a prostitute but I am not!
Very occasionally I find myself in a state of altered reality… perhaps it can best be described as being in two places at once or seeing another place in the space in front of me … and I am seeing it through a window in the quantum field.
Several months ago I had the very distinct feeling of being in two places at once … physically in my bedroom and ethereally in the African Bush talking to a very distressed and bewildered looking lion. He was upset about his cubs and about the men and their guns and about poisonous snakes hiding in the long grass.
On one occasion I saw a vertically placed apparition of a lion and a little white lamb … could have been a white wombat or oversized guineapig … walking side by side … through a portal …munching on grass.
Another time I saw one of these portals open up above the television set in my bedroom … it was turned off at the time … a scrawny, dishevelled looking sailor, with wiry hair and raggedy clothes stood on the prow of a boat … apparently frozen in time … behind him … in the distance … was a little island with palm trees on it.
I also saw one of my accumulators … the one with the smiley face and wonky eyes ... sort of hovering around my cactus plant in the little courtyard outside my bedroom. This was a most surprising manifestation since I had buried it up on Black Mountain … in a secret location a few months before.
Today is September the thirtieth and I just remembered a whole bunch of things I wanted to tell you about … like the dream I had a few nights ago … a recent excursion to the Skull Islands … the conversation I had with a lion in the African Bush and my sightings of a sailor on the high seas.
Last things first … a few nights ago I had a dream that I was on a mountain climbing expedition with two strange men. We had been trudging in the snow for quite a while when we arrived at a village that was notable only for the number of tents there were in what appeared to be the main street. I noticed that one of the tents was very small. A peek inside revealed a little girl of about five years old with brown hair, brown eyes and freckles … and the most endearing smile.
There and then I decided to carry her up the mountain … so I bundled her up … tent included … and with her still in it … and proceeded on my journey. It was a very long and arduous journey up the mountain … almost vertical in fact. Finally … upon reaching the summit … we arrived at a small village which reminded me a lot of those little villages in the Himalayas. Houses and Lodges made of wood … cosy fires in large communal living areas, brightly coloured woollen wall hangings and cushion covers … narrow little alleyways and dirty snow … also rickety wooden bridges connecting one cliff to another. This village had one such bridge … connecting one part of the village to another.
It was at this point that I decided to take the girl back down the mountain … because it only just occurred to me that her mother might be worrying about her whereabouts.
So back down the mountain I went and sure enough when I got to the village, the police were there. I handed the child over to the police and they gave her back to her mum. Later on I remember walking very closely behind them for a while. Either the mother could not see me or chose not to acknowledge me. I decided not to go back up the mountain again … mainly because I just could not be bothered.
Bandyhoots … do you remember me telling you about that exciting escape from the reptilian spaceship a few weeks backs and how we went north and had to drive through fire and nuclear waste etc etc …. Well … about a week later I got this terrible feeling that the reptilians were back in town … I saw their spaceship again …
So Bandy and me decided to head south this time … towards the southern sea. It was five minutes to five when we emerged from the elevator into the basement level car park. Four grim faced oldish ladies were waiting there to go up. I had a bad feeling about them.
It was an interesting drive … to the say the least that I can say … about it. The reptilian spaceship followed us for a while … and then we lost sight of it.
Leaving Queenstown I noticed the first of many teddy bears … that I would see that night … tied to a tree. Indeed that whole section of the Kings Highway between Queenstown and the Clyde Mountain was strewn with teddy bears and even one gorilla teddy bear tied to the trunks of trees.
On the lower part of the Clyde, where the terrain on either side of the road has levelled out … I noticed a most peculiar thing. I should say at this point that I have made this journey a hundred times … more or less … and I’ve never once noticed any campfires burning in these areas. And yet I saw quite a few that night … including one or two bonfires . I know this road, there are no camping grounds there and no car access.
At the bay we ate fish and chips. Spent the night parked by the roadside adjacent to South Bro Beach.
There’s not much more to report really. Bandy and me walked around Skull Island the next day and I took pictures. I made crystal and other offerings to the sea creatures. I went for a quick swim in Shark Bay. It was freezing! And then we drove home.
Bandy is convinced that I am leading a double life as a prostitute but I am not!
Very occasionally I find myself in a state of altered reality… perhaps it can best be described as being in two places at once or seeing another place in the space in front of me … and I am seeing it through a window in the quantum field.
Several months ago I had the very distinct feeling of being in two places at once … physically in my bedroom and ethereally in the African Bush talking to a very distressed and bewildered looking lion. He was upset about his cubs and about the men and their guns and about poisonous snakes hiding in the long grass.
On one occasion I saw a vertically placed apparition of a lion and a little white lamb … could have been a white wombat or oversized guineapig … walking side by side … through a portal …munching on grass.
Another time I saw one of these portals open up above the television set in my bedroom … it was turned off at the time … a scrawny, dishevelled looking sailor, with wiry hair and raggedy clothes stood on the prow of a boat … apparently frozen in time … behind him … in the distance … was a little island with palm trees on it.
I also saw one of my accumulators … the one with the smiley face and wonky eyes ... sort of hovering around my cactus plant in the little courtyard outside my bedroom. This was a most surprising manifestation since I had buried it up on Black Mountain … in a secret location a few months before.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Fungus in the Garden of Eden
A Letter to my Selve 28/8/2013
Dear Madge
Do you remember that day ... rather night ... we explored The Dark Portal School for Young Ladies…it was odd because it was like we had jumped forward in time or maybe backward and it was an abandoned ruin…that was after you died.
I’ve never told you this …how could I? … it was exactly three days after your funeral … you came to say goodbye … you slipped your hand in mind and said … till the white rose blooms again …
This Chapter of my ‘Life’ begins at the Karnak Grandma School of Girls in Melbourne Avenue … around the corner and up the road from the Butty Boy Boot Camp in Forrest.
One of my most vivid memories of those first few days at that school … was of an Indian girl … with very long black …dirty hair …that looked like it had never been washed. I sat behind her one day and the smell of it nearly made me sick … she left the school soon after because I never saw her again.
The three ‘daggiest’ girls in my year …Fonar Clayton, Robi Atkinsonar and an overweight girl with red hair and freckles and the last name of WebFoot … made a beeline for me in those first few days … so I joined their group. Needless to say the ‘cool’ group would have nothing to do with me after that. I was officially one of the ‘dags’. Not that I minded all that much.
In class …one day I noticed a beautiful girl with long black hair … a Pocahontas style of girl. It was Rosely. We quickly became friends and gradually disassociated ourselves from the other girls.
For two years we were in separable…and completely alienated from all the other girls in our year. It was not entirely a situation of our choosing … we were cast outs … for reasons I don’t clearly understand.
At the beginning of fifth form … there was an influx of new arrivals to the school …including Lulubelle and Vessle. For some reason Vesslie made a beeline for Rosie and me … she thought I was ‘cool’ which was a surprise … I was not exactly a member of the cool group. I would have thought Vesslie would be more drawn to the cool group than she was to us…but she wasn’t.
I thought Vesslie was pretty cool too … she had that confidence in herself that I always used to associate with American people … and her American accent conferred on her a maturity and an innate sense of self that I didn’t have … and that made her seem a lot older than her years.
The funny thing is … I don’t remember sharing any classes with her … I only remember seeing her at recesses and during lunch hours.
Vessle had only recently returned from a sojourn in New York and was full of stories about the place and the cool things New Yorkers get up to.
She was particularly enamored of the MacDonald’s Chain of Fast Food Restaurants … which at that time had yet to make an appearance in Australia. Both Vessle and her younger sister R-J… would love to show off their talents at mimicry by repeating the MacDonald’s advertising jingle … that went something like this… two whole beef patties …cheese…gherkins… something … pickles… something, something … on a sesame seed bun.
There was somewhat of a disdainful attitude to the Australian style of burger … as if our burgers were not the ‘real thing’ compared to theirs. They were very proud of their MacDonald’s Heritage is all I can say. I was not overly enthused and was a bit perplexed about this boasting of an American Burger Chain.
In the first term of sixth form Vesslie suddenly could not handle being at school anymore. As was the way with ‘parents’ in the seventies … they kicked her out of the house when she finally dropped out of school.
I dropped out too … a few months later … following an altercation with the Head Mistress Mizzard Short … Actually I was suspended for six weeks for back chat …but I never went back.
By this time Vesslie was living in a house On Jardine Street … Number One House … opposite Telopea Park … curiously this park has the exact same geometric configuration as an exclusive enclave in Japan for wealthy businessmen … I noticed this only recently in a short doco about these kinds of enclaves on You Tube …coincidence or no?
Anyhoos … surprise, surprise … I was kicked out of home as well …so I moved into Jardine Street too … J M Fowlter and Debbis … a girl I knew from Telopea Park High School … were also living there … and then later … Peter Danish.
This was the beginning of my binge drinking phase … I had never drank alcohol before so I used to get drunk very easily …on white wine mostly … and would often end up flaked out in the gutter on the front lawn of the house vomiting for hours on end …
Vesslie was very experienced and confident with boys … I wasn’t …I was actually quite shy around boys and very coy about sexual matters … the whole sex thing freaked me out a bit . In my head I still felt like a child and looking back I don’t think I was mature enough to deal with such matters at the time … also the constant pressure for sex made me uneasy …the role of femme fatale did not sit easily with me and it happened way to fast … one minute I was a child and the next a child in a grown up females body … My childhood had ended too abruptly somehow. For a start I felt really awkward and embarrassed about boys wanting to touch me ‘down there’.
By contrast, Vesslie had a confidence and knowingness about these matters that made her seem experienced beyond her years. I was shocked to learn about her proclivity for oral sex…having it to done to her as opposed to doing it to someone else. In her relations with her boyfriends … it was absolutely mandatory on their part … any boy who wasn’t prepared to do that did not pass muster … I think I asked her one day … something along the lines of … don’t you think that’s a bit of a tall order … to expect that every time ? and she was incredulous …. It was inconceivable to her that they wouldn’t. Are all American girls like this?... I asked her one day … “of course” she said genuinely surprised at the question.
Anyhoos I merely mention this things … because one drunken night … and as it happens …. on the second occasion of a threesome with the Shadow … both times an utter disaster … she proposed that we ‘go down on each other’ ….if I had been sober I would never have agreed to it … to tell the truth I find the idea of it a bit icky … hence the reason why I could never be a lesbian … even when I wished I was …
Well … what can I say about it … even though it lasted only a short time … it was as if I had opened the door to a surreal trippy world …I don’t even remember what happened next … did we fall asleep straight after or what?
The next day … everything seemed different …empty somehow …whereas before it had always been full of boys coming and going…evenings around the fire … listening to music … drinking and somebody nearly always had a Guitar … Mark Whimsey for instance …
R-J used to come over a lot too … so when we weren’t partying at home …we were up at the Boot and Flogger getting drunk.
That … next day … Vesslie and I agreed that it was a ‘one off thing’ and that we should just forget about it and move on … but here’s the thing … from that point onwards I started moving back in time.
I can hardly remember the days that followed…there was a short stint sleeping in the lounge room, which was Judee and George’s bedroom … three night time visits from Cee J who forced himself onto to me … felt more like rape actually … a visit from the Shadow who had written a song for me for my birthday …which consisted him of just making up a lot of gibberish and a lot random, chaotic noise on the guitar that just went on and on.
Now when I look back … I see that some of my memories of living in Forrest when Simoney was still around could not have happened before Jardine Street because they involved Judee and I didn’t know Judee then … moreover I lost contact with her after she left Jardine Street to go and live in the bush with a child of god.
One day …still in the depths of a long freezing winter … I noticed that everyone had gone…except for Peter Danish
Debbis…Jamil…Vesslie…George Washing Machine and Judee had all left …no more boys visiting…not even the Shadow ….One Jardine Street used to be a party house… now it felt like a ghost house…moreover it had fallen into a state of ruin…the front door was gone …. There were broken windows. I don’t recall having my own bedroom or sleeping in one. I don’t remember how I passed the time ...
I got diarrhoea one night and went looking for the toilet….it was out the back of the kitchen and totally unfamiliar to me. I noticed in the room opposite it … a dog and a litter of new born puppies. The next time I saw those puppies was in the summer … when Peter, Judee and I took them down to Broulee to experience the ocean for themselves….they hadn’t grown at all …. hardly at all anyway.
I don’t recall going back to Forrest either or seeing Marine or Dabios during that time and yet somewhere along the way I had been prescribed an anti-depressant medication called Tryptanol…at Marines insistence…but I don’t remember how that happened…anyhoos this medication was supposed to ease depression but if anything it made me feel like death …a total zombie … barely able function.
So I find myself alone with Peter Danish in this ‘ghost house’.
I don’t recall eating anything… there was never any food around anyway…except on this one occasion when I did suddenly…out of the blue…feel hunger … I opened up the fridge and was horrified to see a brain in there…not a sheep’s brain mind you …it was obviously human.
Peter Danish whom I saw only intermittently had taken to wearing gloves … because he didn’t want to touch any plastic… well… he told me that he was going to eat it…the thought of it made me feel sick. Even looking at it gave me the creeps.
When I say there were no visitors to the house…that was not entirely true. There were a few very old derelict men about. One of them did visit a few times that winter and later, in the summer. One afternoon we sat on the front porch and watched the house across the street burn down.
I know that one of my selves did eventually recover and go back to live with Marine and Dabios in the Forrest House…I even went back to school and got my higher school certificate.
But there was this other time…where it seemed like I was living there and it too seemed like a ghost house…Marine and Dabios and my sister SaRaHA were notable only for their absence.…On a few occasions Simoney turned up with a cache of magic mushrooms…there were two types that grew in the Brindabellas…blue meanies and gold tops.
One night … with Judee….I ate some….it was a crazed night is all I can say …and freezing …the depths of winters and the nights were long …. I remember running barefoot around those empty silent streets with Judee wearing nothing but our nighties … not feeling the cold or any discomfort at all.
Over the next few years my health deteriorated drastically… spiraling down and down into a state of crumbling disease and decay somehow … …somewhere I contracted the herpes simplex virus …followed by a wart infestation, eczema and constant asthma …and as I said I don’t ever remember being 10 years old.
Fast forward …. Living back in the Forrest, am with Max, he’s sleeping. The previous night, Max, Rosalie and her boyfriend Ben … the leprechaun had been to a band extravaganza at the ANU Bar … Seven Bands for Seven Dollars … Niavat … one of the orange people had given us some LSD … we cut it into quarters … but I’m not so sure Rosalie had any of it … anyway to cut a long story short … Max was completely unaffected by it.
For myself and Ben … it was the beginning of a three day long nightmare … culminating in me … crawling through a hallway filled with huge black spiders… the flesh falling of my bones … until I was nothing more than a bloody skeleton with bits of flesh hanging of it.
Seeya later Butty Boy ….
…. in a while crocodile ….
Dear Madge
Do you remember that day ... rather night ... we explored The Dark Portal School for Young Ladies…it was odd because it was like we had jumped forward in time or maybe backward and it was an abandoned ruin…that was after you died.
I’ve never told you this …how could I? … it was exactly three days after your funeral … you came to say goodbye … you slipped your hand in mind and said … till the white rose blooms again …
This Chapter of my ‘Life’ begins at the Karnak Grandma School of Girls in Melbourne Avenue … around the corner and up the road from the Butty Boy Boot Camp in Forrest.
One of my most vivid memories of those first few days at that school … was of an Indian girl … with very long black …dirty hair …that looked like it had never been washed. I sat behind her one day and the smell of it nearly made me sick … she left the school soon after because I never saw her again.
The three ‘daggiest’ girls in my year …Fonar Clayton, Robi Atkinsonar and an overweight girl with red hair and freckles and the last name of WebFoot … made a beeline for me in those first few days … so I joined their group. Needless to say the ‘cool’ group would have nothing to do with me after that. I was officially one of the ‘dags’. Not that I minded all that much.
In class …one day I noticed a beautiful girl with long black hair … a Pocahontas style of girl. It was Rosely. We quickly became friends and gradually disassociated ourselves from the other girls.
For two years we were in separable…and completely alienated from all the other girls in our year. It was not entirely a situation of our choosing … we were cast outs … for reasons I don’t clearly understand.
At the beginning of fifth form … there was an influx of new arrivals to the school …including Lulubelle and Vessle. For some reason Vesslie made a beeline for Rosie and me … she thought I was ‘cool’ which was a surprise … I was not exactly a member of the cool group. I would have thought Vesslie would be more drawn to the cool group than she was to us…but she wasn’t.
I thought Vesslie was pretty cool too … she had that confidence in herself that I always used to associate with American people … and her American accent conferred on her a maturity and an innate sense of self that I didn’t have … and that made her seem a lot older than her years.
The funny thing is … I don’t remember sharing any classes with her … I only remember seeing her at recesses and during lunch hours.
Vessle had only recently returned from a sojourn in New York and was full of stories about the place and the cool things New Yorkers get up to.
She was particularly enamored of the MacDonald’s Chain of Fast Food Restaurants … which at that time had yet to make an appearance in Australia. Both Vessle and her younger sister R-J… would love to show off their talents at mimicry by repeating the MacDonald’s advertising jingle … that went something like this… two whole beef patties …cheese…gherkins… something … pickles… something, something … on a sesame seed bun.
There was somewhat of a disdainful attitude to the Australian style of burger … as if our burgers were not the ‘real thing’ compared to theirs. They were very proud of their MacDonald’s Heritage is all I can say. I was not overly enthused and was a bit perplexed about this boasting of an American Burger Chain.
In the first term of sixth form Vesslie suddenly could not handle being at school anymore. As was the way with ‘parents’ in the seventies … they kicked her out of the house when she finally dropped out of school.
I dropped out too … a few months later … following an altercation with the Head Mistress Mizzard Short … Actually I was suspended for six weeks for back chat …but I never went back.
By this time Vesslie was living in a house On Jardine Street … Number One House … opposite Telopea Park … curiously this park has the exact same geometric configuration as an exclusive enclave in Japan for wealthy businessmen … I noticed this only recently in a short doco about these kinds of enclaves on You Tube …coincidence or no?
Anyhoos … surprise, surprise … I was kicked out of home as well …so I moved into Jardine Street too … J M Fowlter and Debbis … a girl I knew from Telopea Park High School … were also living there … and then later … Peter Danish.
This was the beginning of my binge drinking phase … I had never drank alcohol before so I used to get drunk very easily …on white wine mostly … and would often end up flaked out in the gutter on the front lawn of the house vomiting for hours on end …
Vesslie was very experienced and confident with boys … I wasn’t …I was actually quite shy around boys and very coy about sexual matters … the whole sex thing freaked me out a bit . In my head I still felt like a child and looking back I don’t think I was mature enough to deal with such matters at the time … also the constant pressure for sex made me uneasy …the role of femme fatale did not sit easily with me and it happened way to fast … one minute I was a child and the next a child in a grown up females body … My childhood had ended too abruptly somehow. For a start I felt really awkward and embarrassed about boys wanting to touch me ‘down there’.
By contrast, Vesslie had a confidence and knowingness about these matters that made her seem experienced beyond her years. I was shocked to learn about her proclivity for oral sex…having it to done to her as opposed to doing it to someone else. In her relations with her boyfriends … it was absolutely mandatory on their part … any boy who wasn’t prepared to do that did not pass muster … I think I asked her one day … something along the lines of … don’t you think that’s a bit of a tall order … to expect that every time ? and she was incredulous …. It was inconceivable to her that they wouldn’t. Are all American girls like this?... I asked her one day … “of course” she said genuinely surprised at the question.
Anyhoos I merely mention this things … because one drunken night … and as it happens …. on the second occasion of a threesome with the Shadow … both times an utter disaster … she proposed that we ‘go down on each other’ ….if I had been sober I would never have agreed to it … to tell the truth I find the idea of it a bit icky … hence the reason why I could never be a lesbian … even when I wished I was …
Well … what can I say about it … even though it lasted only a short time … it was as if I had opened the door to a surreal trippy world …I don’t even remember what happened next … did we fall asleep straight after or what?
The next day … everything seemed different …empty somehow …whereas before it had always been full of boys coming and going…evenings around the fire … listening to music … drinking and somebody nearly always had a Guitar … Mark Whimsey for instance …
R-J used to come over a lot too … so when we weren’t partying at home …we were up at the Boot and Flogger getting drunk.
That … next day … Vesslie and I agreed that it was a ‘one off thing’ and that we should just forget about it and move on … but here’s the thing … from that point onwards I started moving back in time.
I can hardly remember the days that followed…there was a short stint sleeping in the lounge room, which was Judee and George’s bedroom … three night time visits from Cee J who forced himself onto to me … felt more like rape actually … a visit from the Shadow who had written a song for me for my birthday …which consisted him of just making up a lot of gibberish and a lot random, chaotic noise on the guitar that just went on and on.
Now when I look back … I see that some of my memories of living in Forrest when Simoney was still around could not have happened before Jardine Street because they involved Judee and I didn’t know Judee then … moreover I lost contact with her after she left Jardine Street to go and live in the bush with a child of god.
One day …still in the depths of a long freezing winter … I noticed that everyone had gone…except for Peter Danish
Debbis…Jamil…Vesslie…George Washing Machine and Judee had all left …no more boys visiting…not even the Shadow ….One Jardine Street used to be a party house… now it felt like a ghost house…moreover it had fallen into a state of ruin…the front door was gone …. There were broken windows. I don’t recall having my own bedroom or sleeping in one. I don’t remember how I passed the time ...
I got diarrhoea one night and went looking for the toilet….it was out the back of the kitchen and totally unfamiliar to me. I noticed in the room opposite it … a dog and a litter of new born puppies. The next time I saw those puppies was in the summer … when Peter, Judee and I took them down to Broulee to experience the ocean for themselves….they hadn’t grown at all …. hardly at all anyway.
I don’t recall going back to Forrest either or seeing Marine or Dabios during that time and yet somewhere along the way I had been prescribed an anti-depressant medication called Tryptanol…at Marines insistence…but I don’t remember how that happened…anyhoos this medication was supposed to ease depression but if anything it made me feel like death …a total zombie … barely able function.
So I find myself alone with Peter Danish in this ‘ghost house’.
I don’t recall eating anything… there was never any food around anyway…except on this one occasion when I did suddenly…out of the blue…feel hunger … I opened up the fridge and was horrified to see a brain in there…not a sheep’s brain mind you …it was obviously human.
Peter Danish whom I saw only intermittently had taken to wearing gloves … because he didn’t want to touch any plastic… well… he told me that he was going to eat it…the thought of it made me feel sick. Even looking at it gave me the creeps.
When I say there were no visitors to the house…that was not entirely true. There were a few very old derelict men about. One of them did visit a few times that winter and later, in the summer. One afternoon we sat on the front porch and watched the house across the street burn down.
I know that one of my selves did eventually recover and go back to live with Marine and Dabios in the Forrest House…I even went back to school and got my higher school certificate.
But there was this other time…where it seemed like I was living there and it too seemed like a ghost house…Marine and Dabios and my sister SaRaHA were notable only for their absence.…On a few occasions Simoney turned up with a cache of magic mushrooms…there were two types that grew in the Brindabellas…blue meanies and gold tops.
One night … with Judee….I ate some….it was a crazed night is all I can say …and freezing …the depths of winters and the nights were long …. I remember running barefoot around those empty silent streets with Judee wearing nothing but our nighties … not feeling the cold or any discomfort at all.
Over the next few years my health deteriorated drastically… spiraling down and down into a state of crumbling disease and decay somehow … …somewhere I contracted the herpes simplex virus …followed by a wart infestation, eczema and constant asthma …and as I said I don’t ever remember being 10 years old.
Fast forward …. Living back in the Forrest, am with Max, he’s sleeping. The previous night, Max, Rosalie and her boyfriend Ben … the leprechaun had been to a band extravaganza at the ANU Bar … Seven Bands for Seven Dollars … Niavat … one of the orange people had given us some LSD … we cut it into quarters … but I’m not so sure Rosalie had any of it … anyway to cut a long story short … Max was completely unaffected by it.
For myself and Ben … it was the beginning of a three day long nightmare … culminating in me … crawling through a hallway filled with huge black spiders… the flesh falling of my bones … until I was nothing more than a bloody skeleton with bits of flesh hanging of it.
Seeya later Butty Boy ….
…. in a while crocodile ….
Monday, August 26, 2013
Mirror, Mirror in the Hall ... The Envious Moon
August 27 2013
Karen Hazler Nut is … was a cousin of mine … my mother’s sisters daughter … who I have not seen or heard of … since about the year 1971 … when she came for a visit to our house at 15 Grey Street Deakin … I remember it was Easter Time … she took me to the Manuka shops to buy more Easter Eggs because I was so upset at having received only one very small egg …
Did I dam myself by wanting more Easter Eggs?
Anyhoos Normal Genie … I have been thinking about Karen Hazler Nut a lot lately … now why is that? She springs to mind every time I ponder on this question of ENVY … and how … in my humble opinion …ENVY… is the worst sin of all … and possibly the one sin that eventually leads to all others. And being an E with a V in it and a Y …it could have been the original sin.
I know that when my ‘mother’ 'Maureen' met my father, David, in Sydney and subsequently followed him to England and married him there … she had a different shaped face to the one she wore in Africa … she had a sweet, roundish face and there was an innocence about her … that is not evident in later photos … where she appears to have a different shaped jaw…square shaped and long … and slightly jowly.
There is a picture of my mother in a park in Kensington Gardens standing in front of a yellow pram … with a look of utter devastation on her face. In another photograph of her … on a ship … looking at something through a telescope there is a blurry image behind her … that looks like a shocked reptilian … I see it clearly when I stand back a bit and look at it without glasses.
Was my mother’s name really Maureen, or was it Mary or perhaps Louise … a name she shares with Lulubel …whose name is Louise Mary. Or was she Elwyn the woman who had a relationship with David before he hooked up with her ….the one who had the abortion.
Is it possible that Karen was envious of ‘Mary’…was Karen in love with David? ... or was she envious of ‘Lulu’ because Mary was pretty and she was not.
I don’t know if Karen ever visited ‘us’ in Kenya … at our house in Karen … name after Karen Blixen … the Danish woman who had a farm in Africa and who contracted syphilus from her boyfriend … ‘a big game hunter’.
If Maureen really was my mother as she claims to be … her catastrophic medical mistakes and her weird notions about what constitutes a healthy diet for a baby leave a lot to be desired.
For example …she told me that when/if she was pregnant with me… she took a drug for morning sickness called Dielstillbeasterol…I don’t know the exact spelling of it … only the phonetics. This particular medication was later found to cause cancer of the vagine in the daughters of women who had taken it during their pregnancies.
She said she stopped breast feeding me when I was only three weeks old … because that was the done thing in those days. Women of her generation accepted without question that formula was superior to breast milk. She gave me brains to eat when I was a baby because she thought they would be good for me. When ‘I’ was Four …a Doctor recommended that both my brother and I have our tonsils removed even though there was nothing wrong with them … and she agreed to it … without questioning the wisdom of such a procedure.
Both she and David had their appendixes removed before coming to Africa … for no apparent reason.
Who was she really…this ‘Maureen’ … Karen? What happened to the innocent, pretty woman who married David. Why did she look so devastated in Kensington Gardens that day? Why did her appearance change so dramatically in Africa after she came to live in Karen … in Kenya?
Curiously Kensington Gardens is famous as the place where lost boys fall out of their prams.
And the little blonde girl…Norma Genie…she looks so much like a little Marilyn to me. Who was she if I had never been born? Was she a ghost or little Mary or little Lulubelle?
About ENVY…when I look back on my life … I can now see that each and every time I’ve come undone…so to speak … and nearly always synchronous with those times when I’ve been at my prettiest and healthiest or when my intelligence has taken a leap forward … always … the arrival of a jealous rival or an unattractive female into my sphere of existence … has precipitated a downfall.
The last proper’ job I had for example …in 2006 …working for an organisation that processes applications from foreign doctors who want to come to Australia … and I can’t remember the name of it … a woman called Julie … who … come to think of it … reminds me of Karen … was from Day One ‘out to get me’. Her attitude towards me was like that of an old fashioned headmistress talking down to a child who she considers to be inept, stupid and incompetent. Needless to say she had me sacked and the employment agency who got me the job never contacted me again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)