Did you know you could magic creatures into your world with paper and pigment? They move from your heart, to your hand, and into the world. As simple as that. Do you think you could magic your real self into the world? Your hidden self? Just by shutting your eyes, willing it to be. Open eyes. There you are.
This made me laugh: ‘Small talk is fairly fast. Someone says something like, “John really did a great job on the party this year. Have you been to this event in the past?” This should be followed up with a quick response (such as “Yes I have” or “No, it’s my first time.”) But introverts like to chew on their words before saying them aloud. They’ll think about that question a bit, and other things will pop into their mind, like “I wonder how they know John,” or even “Why would they care if I’ve been to other parties?” Before they answer, they’ll mull over different thoughts. This silence, although very short, can unnerve people if you’re not used to it.’
That tiny pause between the question and the answer. Little silences can get filled with so much self-doubt and confusion on both sides. I suppose the assumption is that silence suggests that something has gone wrong, or that one of the speakers is avoiding speaking the truth. Like ‘I don’t really want to talk to you at all,’ which is actually quite unlikely. My music teacher used to say that the space between the notes are just as important as the notes themselves. The silence is an integral part of the music. More often we are rushing to fill the emptiness. It’s amazing how many secrets are spoken just to fill an awkward silence.
“Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.”
“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”
“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
Luckily, for Oscar, his tomb is now fenced off, so he cannot be kissed by girls for literary reasons.
Three curls of smoke unravel
Everything that is special
I am vaporized on three occasions
Each out breath you make
Burns my throat, my chest
My heart turns ash
Then slowly smoulders again
It’s not gothic fiction, but it’s pretty scary. Some examples of classic architecture from my hometown. Proud.
words and images from Shit Brick Fences of Melbourne. Follow them at: https://www.facebook.com/shitbrickfencesofmelbourne?fref=nf
Some more Melbourne photos, most of them fond rather than funny: http://www.pinterest.com/opheliajasmin/melbourne-australia/