Sunday, 31st December, 2006
Back in Sydney after ten days in Wollombi - ten days that rolled together into one long episode of pleasure. Perhaps that's the way one can come to view one's life eventually, allowing the painful memories to blow away like the chaff from the wheat - or maybe they are simply absorbed by the goodness, indistinguishable from the goodness, or maybe even the goodness itself, perceived rightly at last. What do I know, anyway? Only what I judge to be this or that and my judgment is fickle and faulty at best. Things are best left alone, away from my meddling. The truth sits impassively before me, a lake of crystal clarity, inviting me only to lean forward and glimpse my own reflection - but in I plunge, pusuing my mad quest for what is, muddying up the waters and complaining that I can't find what I'm looking for.
This is the last day of 2006 and tonight it will be Indian take-away, red wine and fireworks and ooh-ing and aah-ing as Sydney explodes into her annual flaunt, showing herself off like the brazen hussy she is, a colourful, noisy, brash, over-the-top old tart - and I'll fall in love with her all over again.
New Year Resolutions? Same old, same old: surrender to everything, offer resistance to nothing, roll another fag.
Good thought for 2007: “Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.” [Henry Louis Mencken]
Back in Sydney after ten days in Wollombi - ten days that rolled together into one long episode of pleasure. Perhaps that's the way one can come to view one's life eventually, allowing the painful memories to blow away like the chaff from the wheat - or maybe they are simply absorbed by the goodness, indistinguishable from the goodness, or maybe even the goodness itself, perceived rightly at last. What do I know, anyway? Only what I judge to be this or that and my judgment is fickle and faulty at best. Things are best left alone, away from my meddling. The truth sits impassively before me, a lake of crystal clarity, inviting me only to lean forward and glimpse my own reflection - but in I plunge, pusuing my mad quest for what is, muddying up the waters and complaining that I can't find what I'm looking for.
This is the last day of 2006 and tonight it will be Indian take-away, red wine and fireworks and ooh-ing and aah-ing as Sydney explodes into her annual flaunt, showing herself off like the brazen hussy she is, a colourful, noisy, brash, over-the-top old tart - and I'll fall in love with her all over again.
New Year Resolutions? Same old, same old: surrender to everything, offer resistance to nothing, roll another fag.
Good thought for 2007: “Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.” [Henry Louis Mencken]
Happy New Year! xxx
posted by Rosie at 4:33 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home