Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Foggy Bottoms in Shady Grove...

It's a cold morning, just not as cold as yesterday... it rained all night long and right now it is all cloudly and a dense, warm fog came down to reclaim us all... such a nice morning I went outdoors to take my morning smoke and free kenyan coffee... iPod is a great invent, I sat down on the very fancy garden tables, my so-longed JC Venter institute behind me (or The Dark Side, or The Emperor's Lair, or Satan's Lab as it is known here) in front of a mist-covered lake with asleep ducks (canadian migrating ducks by the way) on it, while I listened to Bowie's Life on Mars... for a very brief moment, I felt happy. I'm almost coming back now... and actually expect that. I miss my bed and my dog, and just as Teddy Terrible said Paz said once: I'm learning a lot about Mexico now that I'm abroad and I fucking miss the bloody Moon's bellybutton! Its just... there's still so much to do here... so much work but so many places and so many people to know... there are very interesting people here, you just need to dig a bit to find them...

Leave you with two photos, a quote and two excerpts. The quote is from Beckett (btw, the theatre was just great Angie!), it states how I feel inside in a well-written form, as always. The photo is just a sample of this law-and-rule brainwash I've been through. The excerpts are modified to my own feel from Bowie... anyone knows which song?

" I write about myself with the same pencil and in the same exercise book as about him. It is no longer I, but another whose life is just beginning" ---Samuel Beckett

"..but her friend is nowhere to be seen
as she walks through a sunken dream
to the seat with the clearest view
and she's hooked on the silver screen
But the film is a sadd'ning bore
for she's lived it ten times or MORE!
she could spit in the eyes of fools
as they ask her to focus in silence..."

" the work is a struck for fame
'cause Lennon's on sale again
see the mice in their million hordes
from Ibiza to the Norfolk Broads
our Britannia is out of grasp
to my mother, my dog and clowns
but he film is a sadd'ning bore
'cause I wrote it ten times before
it's about to be writ again
as I ask you to focus in silence.