the constant gardener

I removed an old pot from a plant last week

and looked at the roots

winding in on themselves an a dense thick spiral

choking, strangling each-other

in a futile attempt to find new soil or new 

places to grow.

root bound.

and naturally I saw the plant as a metaphor

for life.

old ways

old views

old habits

and the psyche forever chasing its tail.

the views get more entrenched 

the ideas get more extreme 

the beliefs become more certain

and its all because of the frame of reference.

(which is no more real than anyone else's)

the answer of course

to any feelings of anger

boredom

frustration

resentment

unhappiness

is to do something new.

cut some of those strangling roots

and get a bigger pot.

where do you live?

coogee

a name taken..

from a local Aboriginal word koojah which means "smelly place"

well lets face it the kids are pretty slack at cleaning up after dinner

and we do eat a lot of seafood.

and since Ive been to japan

and hawaii and sydney

and every fucking place that sells

seaweed salad

Ive wondered just where is that 

green sweet crunchy 

salty delicacy

actually produced

because if you are tuned 

its everywhere,

the fish markets

sushi go rounds

and every japanese restaurant.

and sometimes if you are lucky

you can get it for

$3.50 a serve

although its often

fifty cents more

for the same 

quantity

and if i think about it

perhaps its fate

that I ended up here

in koojah

the smell of kelp washed up on the beach

drying

ahhhhh

home.

MDMA

I know what you are thinking

and although it seems certain

you are wrong.

In the old days MDMA

was that little pill  that people took

that brought with it a little trip

into a land of love.

now as I get older and wiser 

I realise the real meaning of the acronym

and its true that i use it everyday.

in fact the startling truth is we all do

From the moment we get up till the time we go to sleep

its not always fun and frankly like most recreational users

I wonder if its just a phenomenal waste of time?

and like all addicts the habit has crept up on me.

It starts with the screen

im sure the frequency is synced with our brain

and even when there's nothing on

we find it fascinating

and then there is all the information

in little files and icons

that needs to be copied, backed up

moved or deleted.

what if somebody broke in and stole the harddrive

decades of photos, writing and life lost

and what then...

memory alone?

if god (existed) had wanted to make us walk

he would have given us legs

and if he wanted us to remember

why have we created external cluttered brains?

I started the day

resyncing songs on the iphone

organising the desktop

and taking out the trash.

digitally speaking Ive done a lot 

but perhaps its all just a wank

digitally speaking

managing digital media allthefuckingtime.

MDMA

entropy

chaos

its fucking everywhere

in the house

in the kids room

in the computer

in the kitchen

in the wardrobe

turn your back and everything you do, think, download

adds up.

just sits there and taunts you to organise it

clean me up.

so you download another program that will do it for you

spending money, wasting time

in a futile struggle

to create some order.

the garden gets overgrown

theres stuff under the house you havent looked at for years

all the toys have bits missing

the itunes library is over two hard drives

and the hard drives are fucking breeding back there

I mean come on who really needs a

2T 1T 600meg 500meg and

a hard drive in the computer?

Its like the sahara

all that space and I've got to put out a search party

if i want to find a song.

there are 24 thousand photos

and 15 years of memories hidden in code and plastic

and in the end its no better than it was a hundred years ago.

my grandparents died and there were 4 photos that represented their life.

how many of the 24thousand do I look at ever?

and god forbid if the power goes out.

as Ferris Bueller said

life moves pretty fast

blink and you'll miss it.

if only he knew how we would try to record

the bits we miss

and suck the world of energy and life as we

retain all the stuff we never need to look at again.

when you order

you just create more chaos

and its hidden

out of site

piled under the rug

behing the wardrobe door 

and in the drawers 

of the desk

in the office

of my mind

chaos

a funny thing happened on the way...

occasionally an evening takes a turn that surprises you

friday night after dining at popolo

the boss and I thought 

what the hell!

its 8pm, lets do something crazy

so we wandered up to the verona

and saw whatever was on.

after paying $55 for two tickets and two beers

(it has been a long time since I attended hasn't it)

we slouched down and watched Monsieur Lazhar

inspirational, intelligent, emotional and superb

or so says the byline

but I dont really think that sums it up

its been years since I saw a foreign film

and being there in the dark

I realised a void was filling

in my fast paced monochromatic existence.

the first thing is the total immersion

the next a window into another world

where they dont speak your language

where the scenery looks different

and where the diet isn't 

australian or american 

humour, or even worse

drama.

a story without sex, violence

(ok sure there is one extreme plot event)

without aspirational character development

or expensive sets

perhaps my diet of

pixar films 

and blockbusters

is finally boring my palate

perhaps as I get older my taste 

is changing

for the better or perhaps

the worse

or just maybe it was 

a great film

and they only come round

once every couple of years.