Five-Hundred Word Challenge 557: Dust in the Air

Small bits of dust hanging in the air and remain invisible until they pas through the light shining through the window and onto my face.

Well, that’s what I’d like to believe. It seems that in this house they choose to remain invisible until they reach a surface that they want to cling onto, such as the computer screen of the computer on which I am on and using in order to convert my words into a visible format so that your eyes can process the signals into something visual for you to be able to comprehend and understand that which I am trying to get across, whatever that may be.

There is a bit of dust and it will be very easily removed at a predetermined period of time in the future. Of course, the space between this time being predetermined and the time of which the act of cleaning the screen shall be carried out is a very small distance. One might say that it is a distance that does not matter as it’ll likely happen pretty quickly after the fact.

But for now the dust shall inhabit the location of its desire.

Now I can see some floating about. It’s not nearly as much as I’ve seen in other places in which I have lived, but I guess it’s a substantial amount… kind of.

It’s not really much at all, now that I think about it. This does not feel as though I’m in a world of dust.

Even though there will need to be some dusting later on, the dust does seem a little interesting to watch floating about. It seems to follow some sort of flow, but at the same time so much of it seems to be going in different directions.

It’s relaxing in a way. The flow is slow and gentle and the dust seems to smoothly meander about.

Well, some of it anyway. Some of it seems to move a fair bit faster than the rest.

Eventually it will settle somewhere and it will be removed, only for more dust to take the empty space, and so on and so forth ad infinitum. You get the idea.

The light is warm and not as bright as it seems to usually be. This is, as far as I’m concerned, a good thing. At least for now.

This is due to it being a time to relax at the moment. Now is not the time for moving about to get as much done as possible before the inevitable head to work. Now is the time to take it easy and watch the dust move through the air. Now is the time to relax and sit back and take it as easy as one can before they get ready to take on the rest of the day.

Now is the time to be calm and lazy, but I’m not feeling like being lazy.

It takes a lot of work to be lazy. I’d rather not.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:19:41

I’m feeling pretty relaxed. As such, this should reflect that feeling of being relaxed.

Written at home.

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Cataract Dam

What I like about this shot is how out of place the dam appears to be.

From the angle of the shot it appears as though its end is rather sudden no matter which way you go.

The photo gives a good idea of the massiveness of the dam, but I’m fairly certain that there are far larger ones out there.

The dam is at a massive contrast to the area around it. You’ve some dense vegetation which is almost violently cut into by this massive, dirty thing.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 556: A Pen

A pen sits out in the open, ready for the taking, yet no one dares approach it, for whoever movers first will trigger everyone else.

No one dares move as no one wants to deal with the rush toward the pen.

No one looks at each other, but they can feel each other’s presence. They can feel the tension and the desire to get there without having to deal with the actions of anyone else around them.

They can feel the anticipation. They feel as though a moment to push on forward and hopefully catch everyone else off guard, thus getting to the pen with no difficulty, is approaching fast.

Yet, no one moves for no one wants to have to deal with everyone else who is after this item of writing.

No one moves for there will be a fight. No one moves for no one wants anyone else to have the pen. They want it for themselves and the only way – in their minds at least – to ensure that they don’t have to fight over something that seems so minor is to not go for it. One person moving is all that is needed to set everyone off. No one moves. Breathing even seems invisible in a way.

And yet, someone will have to move soon. Someone will need to turn away and walk from the situation. Eventually someone will have to give up, and that is what all the willing participants hope for. They all hope that one person will give up and walk away, so that whilst everyone else is distracted they can go and get the pen.

It is a simple, yet cunning plan. Biding their time will mean that surely, at some point they will get hold of what it is that they want.

And so they all wait. Like stone they wait and bide their time. They wait for the smallest of hints in order to prepare. They do not sweat, for the moment one of them does is the moment that everyone else will make their strike. They continue to wait and refuse to give the smallest of hints. They stay motionless as the minutes slowly trickle away.

No one gives up. No one turns away and gets away from the scene. No one rejects the pen. They all wait and wait. They all refuse to back off.

The pen remains sitting there, motionless and tempting all the same. Little around it changes. It remains distinct from the surface on which it rests. It stands out and changes the surface texture by its own existence.

They keep on waiting. Motionless, still. Very soon the best moment to make their move will reveal itself. Eyes remain locked on the pen. Focus remains strong.

And slowly, the moment to strike is revealed. Someone moves ever-so-slightly. Someone else begins to sweat.

Someone walks along and, seeing the pen and not noticing the people, takes the pen, for they’ll need it to sign documents soon enough.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 08:59:11

This was pretty fun to write.
It’s a ridiculous situation that has far too much waffling on.
I think I was trying to get the feeling of tension across rather than just in written form.

Let me know if I was successful.

Written at UNSW.

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Waves Thrashing at the Coastline

This was taken during the road trip I went on last month.

The waves were powerful and thrashed at this bit of coastline.
It was a dangerous and beautiful scene in equal measures.

I think that the shot gives a really good idea of the heave and power of the waves.

The amount of light in the area is fairly low due to the sun setting and I think that contrasts the wave action pretty nicely. The lighting is soft, but the waves are not.

I also think that the stillness of the land works well as a contrast here as there’s a kind of “largeness” to both the land and the water. The land has some large geological features that stick out well, whereas the water has a largeness in power.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 555: Body stuff, Climate Data

Coughing and hacking my way across the land this morning.

In the place known as university. Sitting here to work on an assignment and slowly dig my way out of the mess that I have created for myself.

It is a lofty goal, as they say.

Well, it’s not, but I’ve got to do something at this stage. Besides which, I am sitting here and thinking of the ways in which I can express in an interesting manner as to how my body seems to be heating up and feels like it is secreting sweat on thew curvature of my back, but when I check, my back is as dry as it was when I left the house this morning.

I’m trying to think of an interesting way to express as to how my arms are hairy in the sense that they have hair on them, but the hair is is is not thick in appearance and has a fair bit of space, unlike the thickness of the hair on my head.

I’m trying to think of an interesting way to express how my pinky fingers stretch out and away from my hand when I type, almost as though they are ready to press a key whenever the need arises, yet they shall never have the opportunity; at least, not until I am ready to incorporate them into my typing.

There is little interesting about the way the light shines off the non-smooth surface of the keys that I am striking. the light seems to be shattered and scattered in a sense, but that is likely due to the way that my vision is processing the reflection of the light off this non-smooth surface.

Looking at climate data. This time it is the correct climate data. Been looking at the incorrect stuff without realising. For a few weeks.

Well, “looking” is probably not the correct term to use in this case as there was no way for me to get what I had to appear as an image. If it had appeared as an image, then I would have had an Australia with an interesting appearance.

That’s probably the best way that I can put it. It’s a bit more interesting than describing how the skin on my knuckles seems to change in appearance when compared to the skin around it. Deeper creases, yet smoother to the touch.

And of course that is different to the skin on my friction ridges.

The skin doesn’t feel so much as rough as… why am I even going into this?

Starts off with hair, goes elsewhere.

Don’t even know as to what I should do from this point on. Guess I should just stick my neck out and hope for the best, lest some sort of event happens. Where do I even go to stick my neck out?

What am I even crapping on about at this stage?

Bleck. This thing has fallen apart. It had  much potential, but now I’m outta here.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:15:52

Not well enough for this right now.

Well, actually I am. Just need to do the knuckling of the down and getting to the stuff, or something.

Written at UNSW.

 

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Fog Consumes the Horizon

Here’s a photo taken from Jamberoo Lookout.

I think that almost immediately you get a good sense of distance and depth in the photo, which has a lot to do with the closeness of the terrain.

The fog in the distance makes the area feel like it’s kind of enclosed.

I like that the fog completely obscures the horizon. It just isn’t there and it almost seems like something that doesn’t exist.

This is my submission into The Lens-Artists Photo Challenge.

The theme this week is “Delicious“.

There was a short period of time where I was doing some food photography. That was some time last year and I’ve moved the photos to a hard drive since taking them.

I think that this photo is kind of delicious in a way. Kind of.

It’s not detail-heavy. Nor is it vibrant, but it does kind of provide a feast for the eyes.

The challenge is hosted by four people and cycles weekly:

Week 1 – Patti

Week 2 – Ann-Christine aka Leya

Week 3 – Amy

Week 4 – Tina

This week is hosted by Patti and next week’s will be hosted by Leya.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 554: Cold Mornings

Cold mornings in a tiled floor house always lead to some sort of sitting in a way that one hopes to have their feet elevated off of the ground, unless there is a rug there that helps to separate you from the ground, in which case you generally have some sort of advantage over the tiles.

That is what I have to believe this morning. It is cold and I am on a journey. I am on a journey through words and the loosening of the illness which will soon be replaced by the journeying through data, for there is data out there and I need to look at it and discern  number of things. I don’t know what any of those things will mean, but I’m sure that it will all come to light once I have a better idea of what I am doing.

Coffee near my reach. All I have to do is lean over slightly and I will have access to its being. Well, there are a range of motions that I need to perform in order to reach its being and then follow up by pouring it into my mouth and out of its receptacle, but that is not something that I feel much like getting into. There are far too many words that would be needed for the ridiculous amount of detail that I would like to get into and right now there is no time for that sort of tomfoolery.

Or is there?

It is a cold morning. There needs to be some sort of gardening to do. That will not be done, as I am not ready for that. I need to do other things, such as… I don’t know.

Oh. Assignment.

I need to cough up more fluids. That needs to be done.

Suffice to say that I’m trying to write myself out of the lengthy hole that I’ve written myself into, but the only way out is digging further down. That is not something that I’m quite looking forward to, if I must be honest. Needing to push through a barrier of sorts needs to be done from time to time, but there are plenty of times in which I don’t want to do a thing in that relation. That said, if it needs to be done, then who am I to keep fighting the inevitable?

Who are we all, really? Where are we all? Are we all dealing with cold tiles in some form or manner? Are we all sitting down in track pants and yesterday’s shirt, rambling on in the minutes whilst trying to find that last remaining kernel of insight?

Is this why we all persist in our inevitable dances? Do we try to find a way out and look for everything else that stands in our way as we simultaneously try to get back into the swing of things?

I don’t know, but if this is something that you can answer, then you must, or mustn’t.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:05:32

I’m seldom certain of the worth of what I write. Probably not worth sharing most of the time, but that hasn’t stopped me thus far.

This came really easy. Just flowed out.

Bot great, but as always, getting there.

On a side note, if I can write (approximately) twenty-thousand words on being in Japan, then why can’t I write six-thousand on GIS-related stuff?

Written at home.

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The Night Passed by

Last year I partook in NaNoWriMo for a second time.

I may have mentioned this at the time. Not certain.

Didn’t end up with what I’d describe as a decent result, but there were parts that were okay.

Below is a small bit of what I produced.

I think I was trying to express some sort of release and catharsis.

Not sure as to how well it comes through. Probably needs a bit more work.

I hope you enjoy.

The night passed by without event, and in the morning I woke up in pain. As I had predicted, my arms were very sore. So were my legs. I felt weak.

Eugene was already up making breakfast. Eileen woke shortly after me.

It was 5:30 in the morning.

I felt well-rested, but I also felt drained. I was sore, but this was something that I’d have to push through if I was to see the end of the walk. I had to remind myself that it could be worse, and realistically it really could have been much worse. All things considered, I was quite okay.

Breakfast was soon ready. We took it to Splendour Rock and watched the glorious sunrise as this pocket of the earth woke up and embraced the morning light.
The world woke up here and so did we.

More glorious colours carried themselves across the landscape. More beauty to experience. The last time that any of us would look upon this area for the foreseeable future. It was a most wondrous moment.
Breakfast done, we felt refreshed.

We hurried back to camp, packed everything up as quickly as we could, made sure that we were completely ready, then headed down Mount Dingo.

We had a long walk ahead of us, but surely it was one that we could get done quickly. If we were able to get to our destination with speed, then surely we’d be able to get back to Katoomba quickly enough.
Down the side of the mountain, we made a good pace despite stiffness in the joints. We reached Mobbs Swamp within fifty minutes of leaving. About another 30 to 40 from there and we were back at the crossroads.

A quick toilet and snack break and we made our way back to Taro’s Ladder.

We ascended the hill, made our way toward Mount Derbet. I began slipping away, but I pushed on. My physical being needed to continue. I needed to get to the end of this. I had a desire not to leave, but a desire to get back home so I could see all of this again one day in the future.
We continued on, pushed our limbs and tried to stop as little as possible. We had to keep on going. We had to push on. We had to keep on walking. I walked. I moved one leg in front of the other, continuing the motion as the terrain changed and adjusted itself. I continued on, hanging my head low, I continued on. I pushed. The legs needed to keep on working. I felt light and slowly began to drift, but remained as firmly attached to the earth as I possibly could.

I took a sip of water as the lightness began to carry me along and I began to elevate over the path as my body became embraced in a state of pain and euphoria. The winds kissed at my skin and wanted to carry me along to make my journey easier. I felt the branches of trees long past as the details all began to blur into each other. There was a stretch that needed to be reached and I could only keep on moving, but I could also try and extend myself to encompass more land at once.

I kept on going and found soon that my senses became more and more reliable as I gave in more to the course of nature. The sky was strong and motionless, but it too could see and reach. There was a connection that I was trying to touch, but it all began to become all too fake to me, but the nature of things were all too real. I had to keep on walking, but the embrace was too strong, but I had to keep on walking as I began to float along and above the path. I was elongate, the details of the land began to fade, yet were distinctly there. Eugene and Eileen continued on, but they became distant in a way that I could not initially interpret. I was there, they were there, but they were getting away from me as I slowly morphed into an amorphous being and found my body stretching and becoming convoluted in its simplicity. I melded in with the earth and the plants and I became one as the sky changed and become something else entirely as it disappeared and all that was and is became flat and hard.

Dimensions began and became a hard, discernible thing with a physicality that I could not interpret beforehand, but now as it all seemed to fade everything became clear. There was time and time was visiting, but I could only know the breath of the air that I was breathing as my lungs were no longer required. I floated along and rose above the ground and looked for a way out, but there was no need as I embraced everything that was around me. I could only become one with it all, I needed not my physicality.

It didn’t matter that Taros Ladder was coming up and it was as effortless as it had always been, but I couldn’t see quite through the miasma that was blinding me, but of course it didn’t matter.

I spread out and let it all take me away and the earth was crying out the terrible pains that it had endured, but at the same time the comfort was all enough to bear. The burden had to be set and it could easily get rid of it, yet its maw needed to open and there needed to be an expression as the trees rustled with life that we don’t really ever perceive. They were crawling with critters and the rocks could only hear and not talk nor speak, but I could see inside it all and find the ocean of trees that spread themselves across the waves of land, the masses and folds that we all looked at once, and that was the way that it always was and always will be, but of course there will be a time when the sun must be hidden and the liquid must fall to the earth and the earth must be saturated and filled, and satiated, and as I floated there the rain fell and it fell hard, and the weather encroached on our beings, but I just moved and moved through it and back to Narrow Neck, but there was a rope and the rope needed to be utilised in order for us to keep on going, but it was, and we were wet and soaked and brought back down, but the sky did not care and it demanded and called, but the birds of the land were sheltered and it all became thick and warm with a fog, a miasma and there was nothing but there was a detail and the world compacted in on itself, or at least that bit of land that was and forever shall be, but we continued and I was gone for I could not return, because how could I answer them all? If I met my maker, what would I say? Would they take pity on me? Was there one? It didn’t matter anymore, for I could only feel the land around me, but I was one with the land as I had become the land and I knew that the needles upon the spaces where needed to motivate all the masses and the youth, but appreciation could lead to no sort of dedication beyond the minimal of what was required, and I was scared as there was no new being that I had every known prior to this one, but it was all done and all was at peace, and I could close my eyes, or at least what I perceived to be my eyes and there was no known as to where I could go from here, but I kept on rising and lifting off the earth and the sound stretched out itself to become a new sound and suddenly the waves were over everything but there was none and the ground sagged where the rain fell, and we were caught in it all, but there was no longer us, no longer an individualistic form of being, but indeed something new as it were.

Could I truly face it all?

I was scared, but it was done it was done it was done and there was no turning back but the crimp of it all dissolved into the will of being and nothing quite like the glowing orb of the sinews could truly conduct by dint of knowledge, but there no longer was any need for that kind of thing and it all was as is as was as is as was as was as was was was and there was no longer an I , but the mind was active and there was awareness and the slip in which I chose to fall through, I saw it all I saw it all all all lll alll and where else but now was where I couldn’t be, but pushed on forward to make sure that all the lights went out and goodnight my sweet prince, I love you and will see you again, but not today, for even if there is a world in which I’d like to embrace and see you once more and ask all that you were, some questions needed to remain unanswered and I didn’t know as to how I could tell myself or yourself that, but these were my thoughts and if that meant that everything stayed in my mind, then that’s where I had to leave it all, but the trunks were just filling and my tears mixed with rain, but they didn’t see it, but they could have felt it for I was massive and howling and the pain of the being was insignificant in comparison to the pain of the heart and mind and all the questions that will never be answered, and I was afraid, but I knew that in returning I would have to one day, but for now the clouds were my justice and my ears were all for those to hear, but that was it, that was all, there was nothing left except the physical world that I had to be chained to, and the questions had to be let go, but instead a thought, a lingering sentiment directed at the death of a housemate as he lay in his final moment, but I couldn’t see the way through and needed to get there somehow.

But the world had dawned and the sentiment was the memory that I held, and as I walked and continued on and internally convulsed and kept going, I was a weak man, but along with Eugene and Eileen you were there, your presence, and we traversed Narrow Neck in the rain, the heavy, unrelenting rain, and I knew that it really was going to be all okay, and I could work out that which I needed to do in my own time so long as I kept doing things in the interim, and I was embraced as I cried for the pain of having to see you be left behind whilst the rest of us aged was close to unbearable, but I was there, I was present, and the world was beautiful.

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Secthdamon

Last week I was shooting the Emperor gig in Sydney for Culture Eater.

I really like how this photo turned out. I think that the colour really helps to frame Secthdamon well, as well as highlight only parts of his form.

I think that there’s a kind of ambiguity to this photo even though it’s fairly clear as to Secthdamon’s form.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 553: Power of my Legs

Managed to make it to work and I have very little idea as to how.

Off course I used the power of my legs and public transport, but I’m still a bit surprised by my getting here and not turning around.

I guess the call of money was too great this morning.

It’s going to be a long day as today is the day of the juggling. That is, I will be trying to finish an assignment that I have barely scratched. We’ll see how it all goes, of course.

Calls. Calls will be coming through. I will dodge and weave around them all and try to get the assignments finished as possible. Not going to happen, but the more I focus on it, the less I’ll have to do over the next few days.

That’s the hope anyway.

Coughing hurts, but I will persevere, and so on.

Need to stay awake. Need to be the best that I can be today. It’s going to be interesting, or something. That’s what I’m telling myself.

Floating desk as low as possible. Trying to eat breakfast, but it’s far too rich for my now-delicate taste buds. Still will get through it to the best of my ability.

Will try and get something out of all of this and will try and get to the end of m,y five-hundred words.

Things I want to write about at the moment, but do not have the time.

Wait: I do have the time. Just not going to use that time to write about the things that I want to write about as there are other things that I need to do.

GIS is fun, except for when it is not fun. This is something that needs to be remembered, as I am not having fun right now. I am having coughing fits and bursts. I wish that there was some way to convert all the coughing into some form of energy that could be used to power something else, but at the moment the technology does not exist for that, so I guess expelling energy into the vastness of atmosphere will have to suffice.

Walking was a weird sensation this morning. So is typing, now that I think about it. Everything feels kind of weird now that I’ve left home and have dedicated myself to doing things so that I can get things out of the way.

Still, this feeling of weirdness will pass so long as I keep at it and get back into routine.

Illness stage: the coughing up of fluids and realising that they should not be that tint of yellow. Still, it’s coming up and coming out, which is a good thing I guess.

Much better than keeping it all in. Much better than swallowing it all. Doesn’t count as free food. Just counts as dead stuff coming out of the being of the self.

Certainly doesn’t count as something worth writing about, but then most things are probably not either.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:35:55

Writing this was difficult due to the lack of doing much over the past few days (I think).

Hands need to be warmed up again, or something.

Written at work.

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