I am here.

Where do I start to reflect? It has been suggested I start off the trip, off the page. I feel quite in limbo. Limbo is one of my favourite poems. By Seamus Heaney of course. I remember reading this to the class and writing angry essays against why a Church would do this when Jesus started off in love. Same thing today, huh.


Fishermen at Ballyshannon
Netted an infant last night
Along with the salmon.
An illegitimate spawning,


A small one thrown back
To the waters. But I'm sure
As she stood in the shallows
Ducking him tenderly


Till the frozen knobs of her wrists
Were dead as the gravel,
He was a minnow with hooks
Tearing her open.


She waded in under
The sign of the cross.
He was hauled in with the fish.
Now limbo will be


A cold glitter of souls
Through some far briny zone.
Even Christ's palms, unhealed,
Smart and cannot fish there.


So over this time I am in limbo. I don't think I am in a cold glitter of souls in some far briny zone but it would not surprise me if that were true. Because my head is full of things and thoughts that must must be turned into action but there are so many. If I were to become all of this I would be a vegan part-time worker in some literary thing spending the rest of my time with the poor (bivocationalism, downward mobility etc etc. new words in my vocab) and I would never never eat bananas. But then I ponder things like the SPIRIT like like like


I don't know I don't know
I am looking forward to moving to Wellington next year but I am becoming uncertain at my leaving and leaving
It is more that we, I, us, desire depth not breadth in our friendships


and yes.
And a book closed yesterday. Someone held a giant pen and wrote on the earth a nice ending to a novel that will come out in small portions in this girls poetry in the future. And the book closed when the girl and the boy or the woman and the man walked apart, one towards government and one towards the train station. Pick which one you would like. And there was nothing more to say. And there was nothing more to do. And there was nothing more to stew over, to think or ponder on, for some would say it is finished. And one floated one way and one floated another. But here they are. Now. Apart and finalised. It is funny how life turns out. I like where my life is going. And so did the man who walked to the train station. But they still must part ways. And they did.


I'm not sure if I'm homeless tomorrow night but whatever.


Today I was walking down a giant fleet of steep bushy concrete steps when I heard my phone yelling and a voice saying Tom had died. I told my parents never to scare me that way again for I was walking down a giant fleet of slippery concrete steps on Garden Road and they KNOW there are too many Toms.


I cooked beef stew for fourty people. I like that I am capable but I do not like that I cannot drive. I like herbs and I like that this house is full of books. I want God to fill me up and up so that I burst over and I wish my throat was not so sore.


Most of all I am behind in my academic work but I will get to that.
I am getting my nose pierced which I like. My brother shaved his head today.


I will end this now for it makes no sense. I hope you enjoyed this.
Dear Asian spammers, please stop commenting my blog with random proverbs.