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Me and Myself

4 Nov

Meet Sponge – Meet The Juggler,

Life is made up of chance encounters. Words spoken and overheard. Suggestions and ideas bought to life in unexpected ways, this is one of those that has shaped my life.

Recently someone mentioned to me that they thought I had two personalities. This shocked me at first, initially that someone could read me so easily and secondly because I knew it was true. It always has been. I haven’t thought about this in a long time but this simple little moment jolted me back and has had my mind spinning for days now.

I remember the first time that I could shape my personality. My obsession with the word ‘Sponge’ had gotten a little out of hand. As it was due too. I was a teenager and my emotions were wildly out of place and out of sync. My friend Gold told me that she never understood the ‘Sponge thing’ but that she thought it was kind of like my alter ego. I realised she was right. I had an avatar, a name, a signature, everything except the words to shape it and give life to my own personality. The name was the important thing. Things started to click into place. I did, and still do sign my name as Sponge, funnily enough no-one has ever noticed or mentioned this strange habit.

I understand now, the power in giving something a name. It makes it real, makes it solid and allows the thing life and growth.

Over the years as I’ve figured out who I am, who I want to be and come to terms with my good and bad points my character has shaped itself into 2 distinct people. Sponge – the ‘dark’ side, and now – given a name – The Juggler. A handle I have used when writing and the self that traveled through India and used juggling as a way to interact on a new level.

It’s strange to think about your own self as 2 distinct people. You sometimes loose a lot of inhibitions – you can say it wasn’t ‘You’, you justify things to yourself with the knowledge that – whatever your doing, however your acting isn’t who you really are, its the shell of a person that you have consciously created to contain all those things that you can not control but despise in your own actions.
Those times when you are vengeful and petty – that’s Sponge. When your arrogant and controlling, bossy, rude, racist. It’s not who I am, I know I have many good qualities but to keep them on the surface you need to embrace the bad. For me this happens in allowing those bad qualities to have a name and to accept that they are part of who you are, even if that part is almost a completely different person….

I’ll keep blogging

6 Mar

Funny how that never works. I always thought I would have time to keep blogging. Thoughts to express.

I recently left Christchurch. My travels these past few years have led me back and forth between Australia and New Zealand, once again here I am sitting in the Blue Mountains with more questions than answers.

As I’m sure you are all aware there was recently a big earthquake in Christchurch, NZ. The quake caused damage and destruction to people, property and the lifes of everyone in a country – hardly noticed by the rest of the world.

After the ground started shaking I remember jumping to my feet and running as fast as possible from the building, where I come from no-one tells us to hide under tables or in door frames. I wasn’t about to sit in the attic and wait for it to collapse on me.

Fighting against the movements of the building,avoiding falling objects – TV’s, books and paraphenalia I somehow managed to reach the fire door – only to find it locked. I grabbed a fallen french man and leapt across the room and out the door.

The carpark was full of people, dust choked the air and I stumbled over to a recognisable face. “What the Fuck!?”

Looking out across the street at a collapsed building was my first indication that things were more serious than I first believed. The cars around me we all at funny angles, everyone was babbling about how everything had moved and floods of people were suddenly everywhere. Moving through the streets. Alarms and sirens were to be heard everywhere and slowly I walked against the flow. Half in shock half in awe. My mind trying to take in everything at once. Neighbours soon had the radio on and I blindly walked through the city.

Men were cycling past me with huge cuts to their forehead, buisness suits of all shapes and sizes seemed to be all that was holding some people together, on the edge of desperation I could see tears and desperate phone calls everywhere I went. Everywhere I looked there was destruction, I walked past Stonehurst backpackersjust as someone ran past, what looked like authority. Into a completely collapsed and destroyed backpackers. I wondered to myself what I would do if my home had just collapsed with everything I knew inside. I own very little and my sense of property is warped, yet I see why someone would make such a desperate move.

Water was seeping up through cracks in the ground and as I round a new corner I see the side of a building has come down and someone is trying to resucitate a lady lying on the ground in the rubble.

100’s of people had gathered around the cathedral in the central square and seemed to be milling around. I think some unsure of what to do, other, like me in morbid fascination mixed with what emotions were holding together a shocked and scared mind. I know how it took 2 days for the shock to set in and thats when I cried. Right now a lady was being helped out of the cathedral by what I assume was rescue workers. Calling for a bottle of water the crowd offered what it could. There we were dispersed and told to leave the city if we could. Emergency aid was waiting in parks around the city and if all else. Stay, listen to the radio and await further information.

We turned and left walking past broken buildings and support polls that had come down and literally flattened several small cars.

Aftershocks persisted through the night and with a dry throat I lay half asleep listening to the boom of the earth and feverishly praying that nothing else would collapse.

This is not the end of the story, but for the time. Now only weeks later have I escaped the news coverage, the people, the affects and am able to wind my mind back in and calm down in serenity

This Life…

19 Aug
Wild

Wild

This life appeals to me. I haven’t written because I haven’t thought.

The monotony that was everyday life is no more and instead each day a new sight, a new view, a new idea, a new person….in short. Adventure.

I have started working in a kitchen in the mountains, washing dishes and instead of this being a menial and demeaning task I instead recognise it for it’s truth. Beneath the dirt and grime of uneaten food I see that life can offer more than work. If I work hard I won’t be stuck in a career like ICT in which I was before. I was happy, no doubt there but this is a different kind of happiness and it’s nice.

On Sunday I will get a train and visit some beach towns on the east coast, Coffs Harbour, Port Mcquarie. Then to return on Friday night, work saturday and sunday. Then once more head out Monday to Friday up to Cairns where I will Skydive, Bungee Jump and white water rafting on the Tully River, of course doing as much of this as possible naked.

So, this is travelling, this is meeting new people, this is a new lifestyle. This is cycling for 6 hours out onto a small outcropping of rock where I sit with a boo, looking out over a national reserve.

Stopping is not an option right now. Right now I know I have truely begun and soon the fruits of my labour will come into fruition and the lessons and experiences will be melded together and become part of my personality, my history, myself.

This is Life, this is new, this is me, this is happiness, this is no fear. I read about Chris Mcandless and realise that he just pushed it to the next level. Breaking free of all of life’s monotony and restraints, worries and complaints. To nature and to prove he was as good as he could be. I admire this ideal.

I like these mountains where I currently reside, I like to walk for 10,20,30,60 minute. Every second a new view, a new horizon. There’s no chlostraphobia that hits me each time I walk into a city. I can see the sky, I can hear the birds.

Each morning I wake in my tent and lay for a while listening to the birds and the possums, the creatures that live nearby. I roll out, I have breakfast, say hello to my fickle friends and then of out to a new track, walking, cycling. New sights and new sounds. A calmness….

I never

5 Jun

I never write about the ones I love or the happiness in my heart. If you read my posts you would think that I have nothing much in my life except blind ambition to an unforeseen goal. A direction and dogged determined attitude towards something completely obscure to all who know me.

This morning has been oddly upsetting. There is someone I love, I think so, very much, but who am I too know if what I think I feel is real. I’ll miss her so much and the fear of loosing what I have stumbled into, almost blindly makes me turn my back, almost on a goal I have aimed for over the past year or more. I have this desire and this need to push for these goals regardless of the pain it causes because I know its something I need to do before I regret my whole life knowing I could be a better person.

I’ve been waiting to hear these words for a while that maybe for me it is a solitary journey.

I’m scared of this trip, even more so now. But part of me considers it may be better, to be honest with myself, my mind has tossed and turned backwards and forwards constantly for the past month or more. To be or not to be, to go or not to go, to do or not to do. Whatever the answers, logic persuades me finally to accept, once more. To accept that I may lose, through fault of my own, something very special and unique to me…

You know how some songs remind you of the thoughless instictive care and love of those around you, those people that love you even if you are a smelly git…

Final equality and Chivalry

21 May

I think I have probably written my thoughts on this previously, but I have a new Netbook (Asus EEEPC 1000HE) so I’m lying here on my couch typing and its very nice. Nice keyboard :D. Anyway, I think I was prompted to this thought watching men race for train seats on our overcrowded train service today. I woman gave one gentleman a look of pure, the word can only really be anger. At his sheer cheek to not offer her his seat. Well my dear…you did want equality right?

For years and years women have been complaining, fighting and coercing until they have a semblance of equality. Ok, if I don’t disclaimer now I’m sure someone is going to correct me that there are still glaring omissions to equality between men and women. I’ll tell you now that the chance is, it’s YOUR FAULT. Ok maybe not you personally, but let’s try to generalise here for the sake of a balanced argument of sorts. Women ARE different from men. Yes? we can agree there I am sure. So yes, your bodies aren’t as well suited to certain jobs. You know, heavy lifting, building or making a decision without changing your mind? Ok, I kid on the last one. But it is actually a valid point. You want equality but you still want men to treat you like the “Weaker Sex” you know, chivalry. Paying for everything, opening doors and being a gentleman, offering you the last seat. Standing when you enter a room? Ok, most of that is common courtesy and things which I strive for. But the arguments are valid. There is not equality, but it’s on both sides. Men are still expected to behave certain ways to women. Perfect example is to give up a seat. Yet there are none of the same expectations on women.

This is one of those arguments that can be batted back and forth constantly and has been for generations. Isn’t it easier to accept that Men and Women are different. There’s nothing wrong with it. Isn’t it nice to know whats expected from the opposite sex, rather than trying to suss out where the power balance lies? Trying to work out what kind of women she is? Does she expect you treat her like an equal, but pay for the drinks? Does he want to treat you like a princess, hold your hand and look out for you????

Who knows…

Growing with Grandparents

12 May

I don’t really know where this thought came from, I remember sitting back and watching or reading something and seeing the word grandparent.

Do you know the saying – no-body’s born a parent? or similar, basically saying that nobody knows how to be a parent on the off. It got me thinking that maybe its better that children grow up with their grandparents, because lets face it – they have already done it before? so surely they know better.

I think unfortunately here is where it all starts to break down. Let’s look at old people in general, smelly, grouchy and most of all stuck in their ways. After all, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. So here’s the thought that, being older won’t  make them better parents, they will continue to make the same mistakes because its in their nature to nurture in their particular fashion. The thought is not likely to come to them that maybe they did make mistakes in bringing up their own children so being parental, their little angels are perfect.

So what about children that have much older brothers and sisters? It seems like a fairly perfect middle ground until you realise that, if the older siblings are past the teenage years, or have left home. The likely hood is that the younger siblings will get mothered and smothered. Having their every whim catered to. Spoilt!
The reason I think this would happen is that parents always want the best for their children, what they couldn’t give the first and older child they are more likely to give to the next child. After all, over time they have got used to their budget, they have matured, and could be financially better off. Mistake. Children need to be treated well of course but you can’t give them everything they want, they need to learn some real life values of hard work and intelligence, they need to understand that life won’t just hand them everything they want.

So maybe….just maybe if children are brought up in a small group, similar ages then they might have a fair chance, because the parents won’t be able to spoil them. They will learn from their siblings and peers and the parents learn quicker because the “mistakes” are more likely to happen with more children.

Don’t get me started on only children…I do wonder though if foster children are the exception to these rules and ideas??? Anyone know?

Naked Wireless

22 Apr

I recently brought a Bluetooth headset for my IPod and as is only natural have taken every opportunity to walk around my flat naked wearing only my headset listening to some nice misc. Very nice.

There’s no real purpose or thought behind this post really. I’m sitting on the train and feel the need to write. I#’m slightly scared of the swan song….
Writing my last entry without realising would be even worse. But Im happy and relaxed and for once my mind is not running in circles constantly. 2 goals, both achievable. 1 love. Very nice 🙂

Now for the running commentary –

Hopefull a fat person won’t sit next to me…..

6:57 – Sidcup station, large man, pink shirt. Fuck! Terhe’s a gap between us but if some fatty sits down next I’ll be stuck between a wall and a fat person.
Music – Jack Johnson

07:00 – New Eltham Station. Skinny lady, beige coat, metro. Some lttle boy on the front – apparently a 12 year old kiler. What a little bastard!!!. I’m slightly nervous at how close people are, that they could read this. I need some kind of “Don’t look at my screen” shield.
Music – Dirty Pretty Things

07:03 – Mottingham Station. I’m safe. All the seats in my area are taken up but I’m snnoyed that I managed to pick a seat in front of the old lady who would drop coffee by my feet.
Music – Dirty Pretty Things

07:05 – Lee Station. I’ve just realised this train stops more frequently than busses how do I manage to ever get to work on time.
Music – Linkin Park

07:06 – I’m bored of this commentary, going to read.