King Crimson: Requiem

One listen.

At some point early on I realised I was writing in a particular way that I’d done before and I’m not happy with it as, whilst I’ve gotten across an idea of the song quite well, what I wrote feels more rote than organic.

King Crimson’s “Requiem” is from Beat.

I hope you enjoy.

Slow hum drifts, and soon guitar rises from it. The guitar is busier, but it also drifts. Tension arises, as does weight. Perhaps a solemness. The guitar continues to move and be here and there, stretching and contorting whilst remaining as it is. Maybe it is a lament for something that was; for a place that changed.

The hum changes and seems to split; the guitar becomes busier and bass plays a doleful series of notes whilst percussion starts forming its way into the space. The guitar howls, and eventually disappears as the other sounds work on different lanes yet in a unison.

The guitar returns from a single point and howls and creaks, and the percussion grows in a controlled scattering and spread. The bass remains steady, as does the hum, and the rest seemingly becomes cacophony. An outpouring, perhaps, of grief.

And yet there remains a drifting. It is an intense moment, but there remains something calm in it, and that becomes clearer when the percussion and guitar suddenly stop, and it’s just the hum and bass, both familiar, but both changed and fading away as the song ends.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1453: Drafts and Cleaning the Plate

I currently have thirty drafts here, and that’s only here. There are other places where I’ve a bunch, but those are newer than some of the ones here. The oldest one I have here is a little over thirteen years old, though it may be scrapped as I’m pretty sure that I published it and somehow ended up with a draft. The next oldest is a little over ten years old.

Some other drafts are collections of scraps that I’ve considered expanding upon at some point, and cutoffs, and drafts for things that won’t get published but made for good writing exercises at some point. Some of those will disappear, but some of them I’ve been finally getting to completion because I want to get the plate as clean as possible.

Many years of things piling up and now I’m getting through some of them, and it’s not bad. But still, as I write I come up with more ideas and so I need to outpace my thinking which I find difficult on a good day. But I have to try. I have to keep on going and push on through, and maybe it’ll happen. Not expecting the best end result, but not aiming for the worst either. Just aiming to get there.

And then I’ll have those done, and then what? Where do I go from there? Of course there are other things in other places to shape and form and turn into completed essays, reviews, and so on, and I’ll work on those, but those will be worked on here to, or rather, published here. It keeps going and I’ll keep going and I’m not planning on stopping. I’m just gonna keep on working on what I can and keep at it.

So… yeah. Drafts. A lot of drafts. A lot of ideas started and not finished. Some are just sentences, fragments. Some are ramblings that go nowhere. Some are nowhere that go rambling. A lot of silliness, some serious. Vague remembering of parts of my life, and a push toward something better throughout it all.

Really it’s just a push toward something worse, but sometimes it’s better.

But some things that are interesting to me, and I’ve had this burst that is still going (it has only been a few days, I know), and I almost cannot stop. But I need to use that to finish things. I need to use that to improve and I need to use that to clear the plate, and have as few drafts left as possible. I need to keep on chipping away, because – and I know I’ve said this a few times, especially recently – if I don’t finish the stuff it’s not going to be finished, so I have to stick to it. I have to keep on going and pushing forward, and I am, and that means getting through fatigue, but it also means staying focused. It means continuing working on what is, and I’ll get the plate clean.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:55:96

Not the fastest, not the slowest. Not much of a bit of writing either, but I think it carries something forward. These drafts are definitely sets of memories in a sense, in that they remind me of where I may have been in life when I saved them. Stuff like that.

Written at home.

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Walking Through a Light Rail Tunnel

I walked through a light rail tunnel once. In 2015, on Sunday the first of March. It was soon after my birthday. May have written about it before, but I don’t think I’ve done so.

Anyway it started off at a place near Central, in the morning. Ewe and I were at a place we’d gone to a small amount of times where you could smoke shisha through a hookah. We got food, smoked, had a good time. Easy day. Nice.

Later on Ewe, Anna, Si and I headed out. We were still neighbours at the time and in various stages of getting toward life obligation and so organising stuff was pretty easy. We went to Darling Harbour to go bowling, had a good time, left and it had been raining.

We crossed over Pyrmont Bridge to get to the nearest light rail station and saw a Freddie Mercury tribute happening. That was nice. Also took some photos of us four being silly.

But yeah; we went out, had a good time, took a bunch of photos, did stuff, didn’t do stuff, caught the light rail back home. We lived a short walk from it, which also made heading out an easier decision to make at times.

After we got off at our stop, Si and I decided to go through the light rail tunnel. I can’t remember how we came to the decision to do so. I know it’s not that exciting a thing, but it was something I hadn’t done before and had wanted to do so at some point, but I was concerned about consequences. I know that Ewe and Si had done it before during late night hours and that made me more curious to do so, if not sparking my initial desire to do so. Ewe didn’t want to this time, however and Anna that interested. Fair.

So we got off at Glebe, Si and I waited for the tram to leave, then started walking. It was dark in there, but illuminated well enough, and all sorts of “quiet”. We took photos of the things we saw; graffiti, shape and design, lights… things that can be curious to look upon. We kept walking, looking at stuff, trying to take it all in, and eventually another tram came along, because of course that was going to happen, and so if I remember rightly, we moved pretty quickly at that point. The driver may have called someone; don’t know and didn’t want to find out. Quickly got away from the station on the other side too.

It wasn’t too far from home so we sort of meandered back. Saw some things I wasn’t aware of but Si was, took in sights we’d seen before, and then made our way around Blackwattle Bay.

The clouds were heavy and threatening, and the day was getting the certain kind of dark when rain is approaching. And of course, not soon after that darkness came it started raining. Si and I ran back home, not too drenched but wet enough. And it was a nice sort of time, and felt pleasant in the way that some of these things can. It was a bit of life and, in looking back, it was small, and that’s nice.

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Bus Passenger

Thus far this year I’ve been doing a lot more walking and a lot more catching public transport. I’m very tired of how stressful driving in Sydney is, and wondering if I’ll get to and from work alive far more often than anyone should, and I’m trying to get more exercise.

A couple of days ago I left work, walked down to Parramatta Road, hopped on the bus. Bus was pretty full, though there were a couple of open seat spots. I went for one next to some guy and, lo and behold, he was taking up most of the seat by spreading his legs. Plopped right down next to him, or rather, right up against him because I was not able to sit properly on the seat.

My sweaty right arm against his left, and my right leg against his left. He would not budge, so I started pressing my right leg into his left, and he started forcibly pushing back. I chose not to relent.

I don’t know if it was my sweating or my being against the guy because there was not space to sit properly on the seat, but he was getting pretty uncomfortable from it and forcibly asked me to stop pushing against his leg. Something along the lines of “Can you stop pressing against my leg?” but really, really firm and annoyed. I said something along the lines of “I’m trying to sit on the seat properly, you could just close your legs” and of course he fought against this. Told me a few times I could go sit elsewhere, with me responding a few times saying it’s public transport, I’m trying to sit on the seat properly and he could just close his legs and I wouldn’t be against him if he did; you know, that sort of stuff.

He tried to justify it by saying he’d had a long day, kept refusing to close his legs, claimed he was taking only half the seat (it was quite apparent that he wasn’t, and even more so when he got up to get off the bus). I told him he wasn’t the only one who had a long day, and all he had to do was close his legs and it’d be fine. It was just a lot of back and forth that was going nowhere because this guy didn’t want to be considerate in the slightest, and I can be quite obstinate when it comes to public resources and people being assholes.

So eventually I said something along the lines of “I doubt your dick’s so big you need to spread your legs”, followed by “You’re not the only one who’s had a long day. You’re just the only one using it as an excuse” and he stopped talking after that, and relented a little. Closed his legs a little. It doesn’t really matter much, but small victories and all that.

Yeah, telling someone their genitals are small isn’t tactful, and maybe I could’ve found another spot to sit if I stood for a while (the other spot was taken soon after I sat down), but public transport is a public resource and maybe, just maybe, people should be a bit more courteous. Maybe we shouldn’t be shitty and selfish.

This isn’t a recent thing. This had been happening well before Covid-19 lockdowns, and well before anyone cares to remember. People just tend to think it was after that as they started taking more notice when they had more space to move around. Plenty of people can actually be aware that they’re not the only person in the world; that other people around them are indeed alive and might actually like to use public resources too. They choose not to, however, and maybe we need to be willing to make them deal with the fact that, no, they aren’t more important than anyone else.

 

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Economy of Attention

So some months ago I was banned from a Facebook page called “Meanwhile in Australia”. I don’t want to draw too much attention to the page, but it spends a bit of time doing what one might view as rage-baiting, as well as what some people would consider stereotypically Australian stuff which is also viewable as toxic but it’s just a joke so it’s fine, and the merest fart of criticism is unacceptable. Will delete posts that doesn’t go the way that’s wanted, you know, that kind of stuff. Pretty standard.

Sometimes the page expresses what some might consider as a move toward equality, or an expression of progressive views, but generally there’s enough stuff that can be considered as not.

Toward the end of last year the page started sharing stuff about Australia Day early, and naturally it was viewable as rage-baiting and of course a good deal of rage came out from people defending and criticisng the day. I’d been thinking about leaving the page for a while because of what it puts forward, but they made the decision for me when I said something along the lines of “You could probably do less rage baiting”(sic) on a non-Aus Day post complaining about people complaining about the “controversial” posts from the page, which itself was quite viewable as rage-baiting. Was banned in three minutes, and I heard the post was taken down a little later.

At first I was somewhat surprised, considering I’d criticised their ongoing coverage of Raygun despite complaining about people giving Raygun attention because there were more important issues. Did the same when the page complained about people arguing over a kangaroo despite their bringing a lot of attention to said kangaroo. But yeah; Decision was made for me, and I’ve been better off for it.

But, you know, there’s something interesting here, and this post is not really about “Meanwhile in Australia”. This is about the economy of attention, and how problematic it is, because it is problematic.

There’s plenty of ways to get attention and rage is probably one of the easier ones. Draw people in, get them engaging in an annoyed or frustrated way, keep them arguing. Throw a funny in here and there, and maybe something uplifting, then more rage. Generate more anger. Get people talking. Keep them engaged. Put the question out to them rather than a statement that is perceivable as rage-baiting. Now they’re voting due to a question that shouldn’t be controversial but is. And it keeps on going.

I get that people want to be involved, but it’s still disappointing when it comes to this stuff. It rarely is rage-baiting for good. It’s often rage-baiting for attention. But beyond that what is there to say? What could I possibly provide? Attention is currency, and the more it’s received, the easier it is to generate popularity which can be turned into income.

When I occasionally remember “Meanwhile in Australia”, and I think about how utterly banal it was, and how it reveled in being merely okay at best, and how the page continued to do things that appear to just be purely for attention. I have to wonder if it’s a place that’s willing to actually engage in self-awareness, especially considering that the admin is willing to delete posts if they don’t seem to go the way they want them to. But I also think about how we have all this potential to stop engaging in what ends up being an inefficient use of our time, but so many of us are willing to waste our time when we’ve better things to do.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1452: Heavy Morning

What to write? What to spin into reality? What to find where and how to find it on a day that’s only merely slightly disturbed, rather than completely? Questions that I’m just throwing in the air, seeing what comes back down. What lands.

At this present moment, writing is a struggle. Mood is heavy and thoughts of the future weigh on my mind. It has not been a good morning, and I imagine the next few weeks are also going to be pretty heavy. Still, I must write. I have to keep on writing. I have to push on through.

Here I am, sitting at work, waiting for routine to kick in so I can get to it, but I don’t know if I’m going to get through the day. Having to express how I feel is already tough enough as it is, but when you express it to someone you care deeply about and their response is to, essentially, “Yeah but”, just isn’t great.

Who knows what will happen in the coming days? Who knows how things will go from here? One tries to know, and perhaps they suspect, but sometimes it all seems unknown, and maybe it is here. I don’t know. I don’t like speaking cryptically either. It feels like I’m trying to generate drama.

But I’m tired, and I just want to rest, and I cannot do that. I have to keep going, and I have to write, or rather I desire to write, but I’m struggling. Things start going well and then they come crashing down, or rather the foundation starts to shake, and that’s life. You pick yourself up; you keep going where you can. You move through life at whatever rate you can move, and you keep going and hopefully you come out on top somewhere, and all that.

This is all too much for this morning. I want more joy, more of an upbeat thing. I want to be spinning tales of silliness and not this stuff that is made to be more heavy than it is. Maybe I’m too sensitive or something though; I don’t know.

It’s going to be one of those days, but I’ll get there in the end. I’ll pull through. I’ll push on toward something that I can claim as my own. My own small victory among everything else that’s going on, and then I’ll wake up and tomorrow will be another day, and things will continue on as they are, or maybe they won’t, but I’ve got to try. Got to keep on moving and getting through life.

But what else is there to say? I feel heavy and weighed down right now, and I’m tired and I’m tired of being in a state of continued uncertainty, but I’ll keep on going and I’ll keep on pushing forward, but I just want some stability in my life is all. I want to be able to know that the ground underneath me is going to stay there.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:59:58

Heavy writing for this morning.

Written at work.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1451: We Need to Ban Words

You know how words twist and turn and do all of those things that make us express wonder at how they do the things they do? You know how words exist?

YOU KNOW WORDS?

Man, let me tell you about words. I’ve a litany of grievances, and it’s time for the airing, and let me tell you, there will be an airing. Will need to open all the windows because there’s gonna be a strong draft that’ll force its way through otherwise. Get ready, and prepare yourself.

I remember the time when there were words countering other words for no other reason than to having something to counter words. This has history behind it, dammit! And I’ll be hard-pressed to find something so heinous and offensive to the idea of basic sensibilities as this kind of action and lack of justice in the world.

We need to ban words, my friends, my audience, my people. We need to eliminate them from the world, for they have reigned supreme for far too long in this day and age. They haunt the night and they burn the day, and nothing burns as brightly as that which hurtles across and prevents us to act in a freeing manner. Words have bound us for far too long. They have bound us to the terror of communication, and they withhold secrets that they have no need to do so. They are a menace and their reign of terror must end in their error.

What happens if we let all of this wordly ruling continue? What will happen if we remain beholden to their form and shape, and the way that they express? Who will go forward with the kind of courage that they know is theirs if we do not act together, to strike them down and eliminate them from society? Can we truly find ourselves a free society if we do not act to free ourselves from the constraints and chains that these words put upon us? That they use to force us to express them? How do we really continue?

Who can go home at the end of the day and look their kin in the eyes and say “I fought for a better tomorrow” if what they did was turn the other cheek? Who can truly be honest with themselves? Nay! WE must face the truth and come forward, and we must be willing to make that fight, regardless of how difficult it may seem. We must be wiling to continue forward, regardless of how difficult each step might be; regardless of the weight on our shoulders as the bearers of the future. We must be willing.

There is no tomorrow if we let words continue getting on with what they want, and there is no future for us if we don’t act to strike them down and remove them from our earthly realm. We have two choices, and one leads to sacrifice and loss, but holds potential. The other, just loss.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:39:74

Bit of silliness, this writing, but perhaps it rings truer than I might believe.

Written at work.

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Moving Wave

Here’s a wave as seen during some unpleasant weather. It was a dangerous time, but the waves were wonderful to witness, and this one is moving, but it seems held in position.

This is my submission into Leanne Cole‘s “Monochrome Madness” for this week. This one is themed, and Sarah of Travel with Me is the host. She has chosen the theme “The Sea”.

This challenge is open to all, and I recommend joining in. If want to, check out more information about it here, and include the tag “monochrome-madness” when you share your photo. If you’d prefer not to join in, then at the least check out Leanne’s photography, and what other people submit.

I hope you enjoy.

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King Crimson: The Howler

One listen.

Just went into it and spent most of the time feeling like I was trying to catch up. I like what came forward, however. Not sure how well it captures the song, but it does get across something in a manner that I feel is accurate.

King Crimson’s “The Howler” is from Beat.

I hope you enjoy.

Silence, though sound soon fades in, and it seems funky and broken. At odds, though in alignment. A slight reduction and then it all comes into view.

Rhythm plays a steady, though seemingly wavering beat and guitar aligns at odds. Vocals drift and warp and seemingly stretch and contract over the affair. It’s almost as though all is disoriented, or putting forward disorientation.

The sounds seem to reverse as they move forward and buzz before the vocals return and the warping continues. The distorting and the stilted, stumbling, yet absolutely graceful flow continues until it’s just guitar strumming out a pattern.

Percussion and bass, as well as more guitar come in and meet and counter, and the vocals too return, though more at odds with the rest, and also crooning, perhaps in a scared manner. And it continues on with the oddness, the sense of being off that feels so right.

Soon a solo of sorts, though perhaps it is better seen as a bombardment of terror and chaos, of release that slides into a return of the funky broken start, and it continues on until it fades and the song ends.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1450: Writing Heavily

So I’m going through this period where I’m just writing heavily. Writing a lot of words, writing a lot of things, looking at drafts and finally finishing them, and I have no idea where this has come from. I think it might because I can see the endpoint, though it’s still a few hills over, but also because I’m just in a better mood than usual. Less tired. Not necessarily less feeling like shit, but in a better mood about it, I guess.

So I’m writing a lot and I’m getting things finished, and this is great. This is good. I need to anyway, as I’ve a lot of writing piled up, but I’m chipping away at it all and I’m getting stuff done, and this is great because, so long as I keep doing this and get things done, then I can finish them and move on, and in doing that, then perhaps I will see some sort of success that I feel is something I can stand behind… not that I don’t, but sometimes you want a bit more than you usually allow yourself to have. Or something like that. You get the idea.

But I’m sitting here and I’m wondering if I really will get to the top of the pile this time, or if it will all pass on by and that will be that. I’m wondering if I’m going to get better, or if I’m going to get worse. I have a lot I need to catch up on still, but I am getting there, if slowly. But I need to keep going.

I generally don’t make resolutions, but this year I’m trying to be healthier. Always am, of course, but this year it’s really happening. Always is, of course.

But I do need more sleep, but I always need more sleep. That will never change, but I’ll keep going.

I think a major issue is spending too much time on my phone. It’s easy to lose a lot of time on it, and it’s also easy to disengage… or so I’d hope. Perhaps it’s not. I am trying to keep track of things, of course, but I’m trying to stay away from it at the same time. Music is fine, but endless scrolling and going through stuff isn’t. That eats too much time and I need to take better care of myself when it comes to those things.

And so I’m just writing a lot and it’s great, and I’ll keep on writing and putting things out. I’ll keep on going for now, but I need to work on everything else I have on my pile. Slowly chip away, remain relentless, charge on and get through it all. Think about how I write, keep trying to learn and grow and put it all into practice, and remain focused, even if the focus is to just write aimlessly. If I do then maybe, just maybe this time I’ll get to the top of the pile.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:28:54

I was hoping for something sillier, but that was not to be.

Written at work.

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