Another railway-related photo, but this time well within the confines of Sydney.
This is a photo of Marrickville Station taken after a walk.
The scene feels kind of small, I think.
I also think it has a great sense of distance.
This is my submission into Leanne Cole‘s “Monochrome Madness” for this week.
I suggest checking out Leanne’s photography, as well as checking out what other people submit.
A lot of what people are submitting will likely end up here.
I hope you enjoy.
One listen, but with a couple of pauses to catch up.
I don’t think I’ve quite captured the song here. There’s a lot I could write about it, but you could say that about a lot of music. However, I might write something longer and more thought out some time down the track.
“Be God” is from Godflesh’s Post Self.
Here is a review of the album I wrote a few years ago.
I hope you enjoy.
—
Some sort of vague chorus whilst menacing, thick, doomy bass just moves on without restraint. Some sort of percussive noise sits underneath it.
Suddenly a beat comes in, providing more shape and noisy guitar scrapes on above. It is wide, atmospheric and a strong sense of dread is formed.
Suddenly sounds drop away and the vague chorus a little later, leaving the bass and beat to keep on throbbing forward. Guitar comes back, into the fold, loud, distorted, broken, thick. Additional sound comes in, then the vocals as well as more shape to the song.
The vocals too are shattered, split, multiple. They are distorted, yet remain harsh. The sense of the immense and intense is there. The harshness of the vocals remains clear and this seems more like some sort of eye-widening realisation of terror.
Slow the song moves forward and sounds remain harsh. There is a force in here that is natural and easily moving forward.
Additional guitar finds its way in and seems to ring out upward and forward, the noise increases and the vocals almost seem lost within themselves, roaring out but unable to rise above it all.
Then it all drops out and the ringing guitar sounds out the song, mostly on its own. The spectacle has ended and little remains.
Once more I am attempting to squeeze something in before work and once more I am questioning as to why I do this so often. Really should make better use of my time. This is too inducing of the stress, though really it is not, though maybe it is.
Not completely sure on that one yet, but for now I shall let it slide away so I can get on with doing other things as right now I’m just going to hurt my wrists more than I should be hurting my wrists. Need to keep them feeling fine for work, but instead I just try and race away and get on with things and see what happens, and this is of course a bit of an issue. Could be worse, I guess, but I could be making it much better for myself than I currently am. Have no one to blame but myself, but I guess we’ll see what happens when I get to the end of all of this.
Anyway, I’m here and I am waiting for the commencement of my shift and in the waiting I write this and then you may or may not read what I write. You may just like it and not read it at all, and I guess that’s fine. Shouldn’t complain, so I won’t. Will focus on other things instead, like getting to the end of this and showing how I have a dearth of ideas at the present moment.
There are other things I should be doing, such as getting ready to start work. That would be much more important than what I am doing at the moment. Perhaps this is an issue that I need to work to get past, but so long as I don’t, then I shall forever keep on writing without pause until I need to pause, in which case there will be a pause and that is something that I will need to grapple with sooner or alter. Preferably later, but you never know with these things, I think.
Well, actually, I do know. I know that I will need to make a pause at some point as I will need to give myself a brief respite. Then I will continue on so as to try and keep time, but what I should be doing is just relaxing a little bit more. I won’t relax and I am not relaxing at the moment, but I really should. I need to give myself some more breathing space. I guess I could be doing worse.
Anyway, I now keep on racing and hope that somehow I am able to fill the space with something that is worth reading. I don’t know if I will, but of course as always I’ll do my best to try. Need to make sure that I at the very least try as that is the essence of trying. There are other essences, but that is THE essence and that is what I am claiming and therefore I can now move onto other things that I want to claim with no basis to claim them with. That is how I am rolling at this particular point, so let us hope that I get it all right or something. I don’t know if I will.
there are a lot of things that I don’t know, but of course I just keep on going in the hopes that I will know them at some point, tho-ugh sometimes I do not and that is how I just like to roll. I prefer that form of rolling over literal rolling as I do get motion sick on the odd occasion and that is something that I’d much prefer to avoid where I can as it is not fun to have motion sickness. There are other things that I’d much rather have over motion sickness, such as not having motion sickness. There are other things also but I am not going to go into them as there is no real reason for me to do so other than to fill a proverbial void with more crab than you can shake a metaphorical stick at.
Actually, maybe there is a reason to do so and maybe that reason involves filling this supposed void with so much crab that somehow it becomes something that can be crossed and finally the other side will be reached. I’ve never seen the other side of a void and this is something that I must admit would be a curious endeavour, so maybe I really should start getting on that train and getting right into it and following the tracks and seeing where they take me. Is this even possible? Of course I do not know if it is or is not, but there is only one way to find out and so I must endeavour to see this endeavour through, lest I do not and nothing comes of it all and therefore I remain right where I was, which is right here doing the things that I always do, which is a thing but there are other things of which are things to boot and those too much be followed on the odd occasion. A few things there, really.
Anyway, now that I’ve said all that I feel is possible for me to say at this particular juncture, I am going to wrap this up. This bit of writing was presented to you by my mind struggling to come up with things and my hands almost keeping up with my thoughts. It was a close thing, but in the end I must go on to do other things for the rest of the day, but of course there will be some more things to come before the whole day ends.
When the come and how they arrive is a completely different thing that I won’t go into right now, but I can assure you, the day continues on and so do my long-suffering hands.
The time it took to write one thousand words: 08:58:14
Rather surprised with the speed at which this was written, but at the same time I think the “quality” suffered quite a bit.
Written earlier today and only up now due to the vagaries of work.
Written at home.
As today is Wednesday, I am asking a lot of questions that involve the word “when”, as that seems appropriate. Not sure how, but it just does, so that is what I am doing.
When does work commence? When is work over? When is a good time to go to the toilet? And so on and so forth.
Perhaps it is in asking these questions that I truly discover myself for the first time in my life. I peel back the layers and, lo and behold, it was me all along. That would be a surprise of unsurprising proportions, and I am fine with that, I think. Maybe not as fine with it as I would like, but fine with it still, or something.
Anyway, soon work starts and so on and so forth and I sit here and hope that once more it does not get too warm, but I’m thinking of things. I feel like resting and perhaps I will have that chance to rest, but of course there is no telling as to whether I will or will not be able to until once I get to the end of the day, in which case the ability to rest is almost a given, but only almost. Seldom it is guaranteed and I don’t like that, though maybe I do. To be honest, I’m note entirely sure, but maybe that’s a good thing., Maybe it is good to have a little bit of uncertainty creep in and do all of the things that uncertainty does, though maybe not right now. I do know that I’d much rather an easy, relaxed morning as well as day as there are things that I want to do and take care of and those things would require the work day to be slower than what I normally am dealing with. By normally, I mean at the present moment how things are going with work. Pardon the odd syntax there, if there is any.
So anyway, I think that really what I should be doing at the present moment is going off to have a shower and then panic a little as I feel the squeeze of work and its indelible jaws clamp over me whilst I struggle to get other things out of the way. It is a bit of a dance, but not one that I cannot handle and so I must try to make the most of what time I have before it makes the most of me. Sort of a weird position to be in sometimes, but sometimes you do have to do what you have to do, and apparently for me that means having a bit of panic and stress in my life before things get easy and I become lazy for the rest of the day.
However, today I will not be lazy. I will actually get things done and get them all done as quickly and efficiently as possible, but instead I’ll just be quite lazy.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 04:58:67
Fast and kind of okay. Bit of repetition and doesn’t quite flow, but it sort of makes sense.
Written at home.
Though it becomes more northward in direction a few hundred metres on.
So this is another photo that makes for an interesting contrast with this one.
Whilst this photo is more dreary and shows a scene more overcast, it also feels wider and more open, which probably has to do with The Hawkesbury River being on both sides of the tracks.
I hope you enjoy.
A harmonious hum and something stares at me on my desk, but I ignore it and push it to the side as I continue to slide on over the keys and hope that the heat stays away. The rain was pleasant and it was desired and now it has gone and I don’t know what to do from here. I think I can just keep on going, but somehow there will be a pause for thinking.
I can’t stop the staring and the audience seems to grow and all I can do is try to keep on ignoring it. I push it to the side and continue my typing, but somehow it just keeps on growing and growing; not in size, but amount. There are so many eyes peering at me and I just keep on trying to ignore them, but it is increasing in difficulty to do so. That is the way of things when you try to do certain things and ignore the things that keep on doing the things that you keep on trying to ignore.
My mind is wandering away from this and now trying to pull my eyes toward the eyes that keep on staring. My audience increases, but I keep pushing them away. This is not something that I want to entertain. Nor is it something that I want to acknowledge. The moment that I do is the moment that it may be over for me, and so I need to keep my focus on this, whatever this is, and just keep working away at it and hope that the eyes stop staring and the audience shrinks away and finds something else to take the attention of.
I hope, but of course my hope is in vain and the eyes keep on staring. They seem formless, and yet they are strikingly specific in their appearance and their shape and their function. This is not something that I can avoid, but I can avoid looking back. I know that they’re there, but I refuse to relent and I refuse to give them the time of day.
However, despite my best efforts it appears as though sooner or later I will break and that will be the end of me. I don’t have much of a say or a choice in the matter, unfortunately. It is all inevitable, and so I try to finish this before I pull away, for the moment I do, then here is nothing else that I can indeed do. I cling to hope and I keep on fighting off the urge in desperation, but too weak willed am I to be able to keep on ignoring that which is surrounding me and doing its best to fill my own vision.
I keep on trying, but this really is where I must finally give up and let loose and let what is to happen happen. I’ve struggled and tried, but now I have no choice and so I look at the eyes.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 04:46:90
Well, here’s a bit of writing that implies some sort of tension, or dread, but delivers on none of that implication.
Written at home.
This is where my walk from Cowan to Brooklyn ended.
I think it makes for an interesting contrast to this photo. This station seems more worn out, and the overcast sky creates a kind of coldness and slight gloominess to the photo, I think.
I hope you enjoy.
Once more written over one listen. However, there were a few words added after the song finished.
This is a bit messy which probably is to be expected, considering most of my writing.
I think I captured the sense of build in this song more than I captured how it sounds.
It’s a beautiful song that I strongly recommend hearing.
“First/Last” is from Big Dead’s Bone White Branches; and album I also strongly recommend hearing.
Here’s a brief review of the album that I wrote for Culture Eater.
I hope you enjoy.
—
A descending, sparkling synth and then the song comes in. Soft, somewhat-floating vocal harmonies over light, yet strong instrumentation and everything seems to float off into this cinematic sense of space.
Vocals come in, voice rises and lowers. It’s dreaming, though certain of itself in its dream. Suddenly a break from the vocals and there’s a bit more guitar kind of doing this thing where it’s “playing around” on the melody, but it fits.
Back to the vocals and more dreaming, more floating. “You were the last one, I was the last one” and the harmonies continue and draw themselves out, but fit well within the confines. Then back to the first break, but something new. A bit more noise, a bit more drive and a bit more of a welcoming into something. The building up, though refusing to break and fall. It’s sort of a menace in a garden, and this continue on as the band play on their way down the path that they are looking to explore. There’s more firmness and heaviness in what is going on, and it keeps on building and building, but slowly and seems to get louder and almost sounds as though it is about to fall apart and the cymbals crash more and the sounds keep building and suddenly the core is strengthened, but it suddenly collapses and falls apart into a mess, but a flickering synth and a clean, strumming guitar emerge to end the song in a rather definitive manner.
A second part of writing and doing it so soon after the last one, but I’m feeling it right now. Truth be told there was work and then I got lazy and now I’m just trying tog et back into the swing of things, but soon there will be sleep and so I probably should not be doing this so late again. I ended up not sleeping so well last night and am a little worried that I might just trigger the same thing. I guess we’ll see as there may just be a little bit more writing after this bit of writing at this particular point of the evening.
I know that there will be more writing tomorrow and instead of being lazy and procrastinating I’m going to knuckle down and really dig into it all and get as much as I can get done done. There are other things that I want to work on and I’m kind of putting those off too, so this needs addressing, so we’ll see as to how it all pans out. Maybe I’ll get more rather than less done and that will be fine. Maybe I will get less rather than more done and that is what I want to avoid.
Probably also want to avoid triggering a sweat right now, but maybe I will and that too is fine.
There are so many things to write about and only so much pain I can handle, but that’s all okay right now. Right now I’m feeling good about doing all the writing that I do. I;m feeling optimistic about my chances of getting to the end of this month without throwing in the towel when it comes to NaNoWriMo. I think I can make it. I’ve gotten this far, so there’s little to say that I’m going to pack it all in. Maybe I’ll even finish ahead. We’ll see what happens.
Rain today, a bit of humidity and a lot of rain and the bedroom is still quite warm. I’d rather a bit of coolness. Not a fan of summer. Not a fan of too much heat. Rather have less heat than more heat. That is the preferable preference that I hold, though at the end of the day it is just a preference. I think I’ll be fine. If I can get to the end of this month, then I can get through another summer. Hopefully in one piece, but regardless there will be perseverance.
I set out to write something a little bit more focused and less about small stuff, but that’s what happened and now I’ve almost run out of words for the evening. Sometimes that is the way things go. Not going to look back and start again, however. Just going to accept that this is what I’ve written at this point in the evening and get on to working on other things.
Well, with all of that being said, here is this bit of writing’s last sentence.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:13:68
Perhaps a little too tired to try and do two word challenges in quick succession.
Written at home.
There was one particular day in which The Cosmic Horse was doing its own thing. It was eating the food of which it was that wild horses ate and it was minding its own business, just hanging out with the herd of which it was a part. This was something that the horse often did as it still was too young to venture out on its own for long periods of time, or even consider the notion of breaking away from the herd altogether. That was part of the youth of a young horse and so one day it was known that it might just venture away and never return. However, on this particular day that was not to happen, for the horse was young and it was eating the food that wild horses eat and it was minding its own business.
The other horses of the herd were mostly doing the same. Some were not doing much of anything and others were just wandering about, perhaps to look for something, or just out of a sense of implied boredom. It is hard to tell as I do not understand how the minds of horses work, but I guess that is my problem at the end of the day and not the problem of the horses. Sure, I would like to blame them for refusing to share their secrets and way of thinking with me, but I can’t. I must own the responsibility of my actions, or lack thereof, or my inability to know what it is that goes through the minds of horses and therefore I must move on and focus on what I can do instead of what I cannot, but I digress.
So anyway, the main horse which just so happens to be The Comic Horse was doing horse things when all of a sudden, out of the blue and somewhere from nowhere it fell into the void. Now this was not something that was planned by the horse, for the horse was not knowing in the ways of voidwalking. It was something they never needed to know and it was something that they did not even know of entertain the possibility of, so therefore it was quite a shock to suddenly end up in the void for this particular horse. How was it there? How did it get away? How long was it going to spend in this little pocket of some other location that somehow stretched on infinitely, yet seemed to small and enclosed?
There were so many questions on the horse’s mind, but it had no answers and it knew not of ways to cope with the situation it now found itself in, for this was a situation most unusual for a horse to experience and therefore the knowledge of being so suddenly removed from what a horse knew instead of a gradual process in which the horse would be removed and therefore learn the land as it went on was not there, and so perhaps there was a little bit of panic within the horse, for this seemed to be rather dreadful. There was dread and malaise, and perhaps also a little hint of stress and fear.
However, all was not lost and there was a voice that called out to the horse. The horse, in hearing the voice and not knowing what it could be, attempted to gallop away. IT did not know if its attempt was successful as it didn’t even know if it was getting anywhere. The sense of motion was there, but at the same time it was completely nonexistent from this location known as being the void.
Try as it might, there was no escaping. The voice called out to the horse again and the horse kept on going, trying tog et away, but not knowing if it was. Eventually the horse stopped, for it seemed that it was not able to tire from its attempts at getting away, but they were revealing themselves as futile attempts and so it saw no point in continuing. It took up time and served to resolve nothing, and so the time could have been better spent trying to work out just what was going on… for whatever worth such a concept and dimension as time meant in this particular space.
The voice called out once more and the horse listened. Perhaps terrified at this point, there was not really much else of a choice. The voice spoke of things mysterious, complex and ambiguous. It spoke of the possibilities of things that may come to pass and it spoke of what had been. It revealed many a thing to the horse and it revealed that the horse had a role to play in some grand thing, assuming that grand thing did eventually come to pass, for the need to fulfill parts was there, but there was no guarantee that any of it would happen. It was all whispers in a fading night.
And so the horse listened, hearing every word and absorbing it all, yet failing to understand any of it. It knew what the words were, but it could not discern any meaning from them other than pure surface readings. Maybe one day it would, but at least for the current moment it would not.
Eventually it all seemed to become too much and everything was closing in, almost as to overwhelm The Cosmic Horse. It all seemed as though everything was going to end just there and this was where the story would stop, but as suddenly as the horse was brought into the void, it too was suddenly returned to its original location. It was almost as though nothing had happened, but some of the horses were staring, looking rather startled.
Not understanding what had happened, the horse bolted as fast as it could. Eventually it returned as though nothing had happened and continued to eat, but there was little denying that something happened and it had indeed changed.
The time it took to write one thousand words: 13:29:29
First part here.
More silliness, though with an odd bit of seriousness.
Written at home.
Stupidity Hole 