Entries Tagged as 'Chiffon'

Chiffon #138. Life and Death


Life,  she comes and goes all the time. Recently I have had friends and acquaintances pop off. My own mother passed away a few years ago. My condolences go out to all those who are dealing with that issue of death, and congrats to all those celebrating due to the birth of another mouth to feed.

I, like a whole lot of people, have difficulty when it comes to death. Death is an unknown, open to speculation. We want to intellectualise it and understand it but we can’t so most focus on burying the subject.

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Chiffon #137. Bic Breakout


Did you know that Albert Einstein invented the word ‘hello?’ (actually he didn’t – Ed). Apparently ‘hullo’ refers to when you are expressing surprise such as ‘oh hullo! What do we have here’ or when you meet mister or missus bombshell, you might say, ‘hullo, hullo, hullo what do we have here?’ This happens to me a lot, simply because I am beautiful and hard to categorise into any of the degrees of difficulty such as easy, not easy, anyhow, I am off the subject again.

What I want to tell you is not off the subject, which of course is me, but I have to dress it up so it resembles intelligent and considered opinion correct in its detail, and the shame of it all is that this is not me. No way does this writing game get very easy. [Read more →]

Chiffon #136. Alone


Today I have started back at my art slash design course and alas, for this last term I am on my own. My friend who was staying with me is now safely ensconced back in her own place. This will be a bit of an adjustment and I know there will be times when I am going to wish that everything will be different or stayed the same, there will be those times when a sense of longing for those happy and tender moments becomes almost intolerable to bear and I might consider suicide. But you get that, it goes with the territory.

Relationships they come and they go. The thing that amazes me about relationship break up parties, between quite often the bentest person in the world, your soul mate  (partner), the person you would walk five hundred miles and then fall down drunk at their door, is the way almost overnight loving relationships show their true colors and lovers become fighters  and voices get raised, possessions get destroyed, debt suddenly becomes a weapon and money ceases to be spent on the machinations for a good time but destroying whatever time you have. As I said you get that.

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Chiffon #135. Safety First

Hullo ,

How safe are we? I heard somewhere that ninety nine point nine per cent of the planet intends no harm to fall upon me. That may be good and well but the harm that comes may not be physical and there are plenty of social rules (etty cut or manners) that we have adopted in our modern way of living that minimise that physical harm which may befall you. We possess a judicial system which recognises that protocol and regularly imposes punishment in the form of a financial burden to pay a fine and the courts also dish out compensation in the form of financial payment to people who have been hurt (by the point o one percent?).

According to our judicial system, money must be seen as the maker or breaker to the right versus wrong thing. I recall accounts of the exploits of crooks in America such as Bonny and Clyde. They went after money with guns and people went after them with guns. That is the way of it. Money makes a good motive for someone with a gun and the exchange of bullets usually providing the climax at the end of a story.

A person’s whims, wants or their needs, dictating their behaviour.

Imagined wants, needs and or whims can also lead to emotional hurt, financial pain (which hurts), this pain can effect your social self which may hurt someone else and if all this is happening in your life, the intellect is also suffering, severely. [Read more →]

Chiffon #134. What a Cock


Something occurred to me the other day. It involved the election and world war two. We have not had a hung parly since then, but it was a turkey that actually gave me more than I bargained for and more than I voted for.

A smart arse said to me the other day, and I quote, have you noticed how much disarray the government is in? In fact since we have had a female prime minister, forming a government has been as easy as having an elephant breech birth at Taronga Zoo.

I felt like smashing the cunt, but I didn’t. Instead I talked about how barbaric capital punishment is these days, referring to Scott Rush and his need to appeal the death sentence imposed upon him by the Indonesian government, who are men, and then he retaliated by saying that Chapelle Corby was a woman and again I felt like smashing the cunt. But again I resisted and returned with the ace I keep in reserve for just such occasions. Aha, but the dope she is alleged to have attempted to smuggle was female I said, knowing I now had a slender lead.

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Chiffon #133. The Australia Cup


The night before the polling day for the general election saw me sitting up long into the night studying the form guide for the Saturday events. One has to take a lot of factors into account when sorting out the field, factors such as gender, age, as well as physical abilities like running are all taken into account (There is an indicator for the running, the Gallop poll).

Enough of this silliness. I have a preference for the grey horses who have a long history of winning against seasoned campaigners. Gunsynd, The Gundawindi Grey, Juene,  another little filly that used to always run with her stable mate and win and win and then won the greatest race Australia has to offer.

Oh well, this year there is a filly (or is  it is a mare), a big red mare who up until now has not had the opportunity to run in her own right, her trainer  and connections preferring the less hectic schedule of accompanying her stable mate up until now.

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Chiffon #132. The Smokeless Fire

Hallo, hullo or hello!

It is all the same no matter how you look at it. The fact of the matter is you must take action (that means doing something) in order to start putting into practice a life after smoking. In my own case I have been terribly caught up in my own case, so interested I have neglected to clean my house of emotional dirt.

Without the cigarettes in which to hide my issues, the result is behaviour much like that of a little kid, full of questions and misgivings (and that is putting it mildly). Things that were disguised by cigarettes, marijuana or another drug are now situating themselves at the visible end of my psyche. It really is obvious in the morning (three a.m.). I am snappy, even argumentative, because I am attempting to stop smoking, and my partner, who maintains she is not that bad with her own smoking she thinks no one will notice. And she is right. No one else will notice but me.

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Chiffon #131. Bloody Hell


Shut your face! So fucking what? I am feeling fucking angry. You dogs, you don’t have a fucking clue. I want to kill something.

I have been waking, walking and going back to sleep with a weird and uncomfortable feeling. It is very unsettling and keeps me agitated beyond belief sometimes. In my hurry to vent, purge or disarm the feeling, I did what you really should not do; react, lashing out blindly in a rage. I crossed the street firing my home made device at men and women going about their day. I hurled a grenade into the kitchen at my partner (for the moment, everything, it was her fault, no question. If I did not meet her, this would not be happening). Stop! Overkill extreme and untrue as well as irrational.

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Chiffon #130. The Stitch


Look it has nearly been two weeks since I started to document the process I have been subjecting myself to, that is, writing about my experience of being abstinent from cigarettes, marijuana, cocaine, heroin, amphetamines, sugar ,salt and coffee, oh yeah, and alcohol. The other day I requested, or more correctly suggested, that I have had enough of this experiment,  citing my usual lack of resolve to complete this task.

It was a weak moment for me and of course I was trawling for sympathy, nay, empathy, and a cursory lung full of tobacco smoke. I was curious about the reason dictating my decision. Upon analysis I had pretended I had a conscience and did not want to appear hypocritical, in as much as I must admit I have been allowing myself to have puffs of this and puffs of that. in order to get me through what is just a drag. Admittedly it is just air.

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Chiffon #129. Seriously


Frazzled yet, well, let me tell you, I am not fucking over it, not at all. In fact I find moderating my intake of anything is a much better alternative to any other variation of consumption, although with that statement I must admit moderation of anything from my point of view has been an illusion, a dream, a fantasy. And of course the thing I am talking about is smoking. Well, not exactly. The thing I am talking about is an addiction, which is just  a tad different with regard to the mindset that treats the condition.

It is time to deal with reality.

The reality should look like this. You have stopped smoking, so that should not be  the issue. You may feel like you want a smoke in order to fill that empty space which has been left (that is the issue) and presumably having a smoke will fill that space. This is commonly called a craving. You can recognize a craving, they sound like this. GIVE ME A FUCKING SMOKE BEFORE I KILL SOMETHING!

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Chiffon #128. The Rot Sets In


I… no no, not me, you must be feeling a bit like myself if you have been undertaking any kind of experiment with the giving it up thing and the walking against want thing and now the rot is setting in and what to do about it.

The premise for the following is simple. A  week ago I undertook to stop smoking for twenty four hours, admittedly just to be able to see what would happen? This situation arose because my cash flow had stalled and I had run out of cigarettes. Further I had been asked to produce a booklet type thing for my drug and alcohol counsel person a few days earlier. I grabbed hold of the opportunity as I wanted to express myself in and on a number of issues surrounding addictions.

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Chiffon #127. Walk Against Want


No means no! And it is final, but it doesn’t have to be,  necessarily, a voice mentioned. What on earth do you ever mean? I replied, almost shocked by what I believed was being suggested. Well, when you are by yourself under the pretext of being busy, no one would know if you had a smoke, just to relieve the symptoms of giving up, you know. Yes that had occurred to me I snapped irritably, and I would know, I added and went on, you know, it is sort of self defeating. The aim of the exercise is no smoking. I sat in silence waiting for the voice in my head to have some snappy comeback, but there was no need, the seed was planted.

This was one of those thoughts that didn’t seem to have a place and it kept walking around in front of me as I had my coffee this morning, without my cigarette(s). This I found an itchy and unsettling time and, as a result, I decided to walk into the town and then the few kilometers up the road to visit my friend who happens to drink and smoke and watches the news on a variety of different television channels conseculativly all day. He doesn’t say much except ordnery! in answer to how are you? And shut up willya when I talk to loud and were you born in a tent when I leave the door open to air his stuffy front sitting room. Oh well! I love the boy.

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Chiffon #126. Give it Up


I am a little bit of a lot of things in my head. I should explain. I was asked to express my thoughts and opinions and produce a booklet (or similar) for the purposes of sharing my technique for giving up dope, marijuana. Not that I am an expert or anything like this, however I suppose that my D.A. (drug and alcohol) counsellor, whom I have been seeing for a few years, considers me something of a standout as I have been abstinent from alcohol for a number of years. Not that you could tell if you had to edit my articles. Or listen to me sing or look at my art works of which I am the biggest and best as well as most consistent. Etcetera.etcetera. I digress .

Before I started writing about this I had bumped into my friend who told me he was giving it up as he maintained his thinking, his mind, and the way it worked was under examination. Now I don’t know whether his decision was one of those questionable ones, but he told me it was only an experiment and all power to him.

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Chiffon #125. Alas Poor Kevin


I am like a lot of your politically vague average Joes reeling from the events that took place in Parliament House the other day. Australia got another taste of the political solution to waywardness which, according to a lot of commentators on the machine, was where the Labor Party was. I should explain my reeling is the same sort of reeling you get when you witness precision in execution of anything, such as a goal scored in soccer or anything else like that. It is refreshing to know that there exist solutions to what could have become a more embarrassing situation.

The thing that really I found disturbing and hard to watch was the outgoing speech by our outgoing captain. You could tell, or I thought I could, the nature of his (Kevin Rudds) pain. It must be difficult to give up the Lodge, school life in Canberra etcetera. I have trouble coming to terms with occasions such as this, watching Mr. Rudd trying to get a cheer out of the day by painfully stating what was not necessary to say. Of course the majority of Australia is proud, proud that we have a system of government that allows for taking steps backwards as well as forwards and not taking steps if needed. Not since Mr. Whitlam’s dismissal have we witnessed people acting independently to save the country from impending disaster, in their opinions.

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Chiffon #124. Kewell Runnings

Oh Dear!

Do you wake up to hear the day fall apart? This happened to me the other morning, but I quickly got over it. The cause for my hopeless optimism is simple. That movie with the late John Candy. I wonder how many Aussies have seen this movie and what is their attraction to it ? Are they addicted to banging their heads against a brick wall? Apparently it was a true story and some clever entrepreneurial type made a movie about the Jamaican bobsled team competing in Calgary, Canada at the Winter Olympics.

Well I would like to run a script by you. I call it Kewell Running. It is about an island nation who, due to their location and isolation, loneliness and nationality, are insecure and have been excluded from the European Football League but, due to the mother country, England, having a large and energetic soccer league (or so it is reported in this colonial nation), the seed is planted and soon desire to participate  in the Wembley phenomenon reaches fever pitch. A campaign is launched, money is spent and now the taxpayer wants to know what they got for their time and money.

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