Word

Watching The Seagulls and Deep Sea

 Arcade play live is much like listening 

to Mogwai, stoned, alone. Brilliant.

Richard Hell - Bollocks

While living in Slurry

I walked into Rupert’s house and he said ‘Leah, recite something that you have written”. 

Then, I gave some line about medications and generations. He said, ‘Ha! That’s really bad!’ 

It’s not that I thought it was great, it was that he acted so quickly to dismiss. I ended up feeling somewhat, taken back, by his comment. 

(By, no means, does the following comment relate to the note above, it’s rather a footnote)

Turns out, he was a recovering alcoholic and the fact that I was ten years younger and essentially, at the prime of my drinking age, drinking heavily, (totally fucked up due to my emotional immaturity) played a part in our downfall. However, if it’s worthy of note at all, we both very much liked, do like, Ian Brown. We would often play ‘The Stone Roses’ whilst drinking tea. 

Worthy of Note.

As I lied there, without even so much as a blanket, on the floor... 

I thought...

Then... 

It felt as if my heart could / would explode. 

Just hanging around this crocked old town.

Murwillumbah; this old town. 

What to do?

(With no phone and only $1)

- Call Ellie? To come pick me up.

-Call mum? For money.

-Chill out at Marni and Holly's until Holly wakes up, then hang out. 

Essentially I need money to do anything, which is something that I'm lacking at the moment. 

Also, eventually at some point, I'll need to book tickets home. 

Post Script. 

This is something that I wrote when sitting in Marni and Holly's living room over summer. 

I ended up venturing into town and just by chance I saw Ellie. We went swimming in the river for the day. Hazza! Still up $1... 

On Dreaming of Houses

The following is a bit messy but I was just wanting to get my thoughts out. Plus, as clear as dreams may sometime be, it’s always a little hard to try and explain what you dreamt.  

Last week I had dreams about houses three nights in a row. On the third night I had a recurring dream about a large terrace house. In the latest of the recurring dreams it started at a later point. The next morning, where I find myself walking down a set of stairs in a daze and not exactly knowing where I am. Then I come to remember that I stumbled into the house last night really drunk. The house is big and bright and has a sort of maze like feel to. That is, it’s not a conventional structure. Then I woke up and I lied there with a great sense that I had actually done that. Not right then but perhaps last year. (I haven’t) however, when I was lying there half awake half asleep I thought I did and I was a little shaking-up by it. Then I said to myself that I’ll put more thought into it in the morning. It was quite a vivd dream and one that I have had before. Also the dream was slightly different to the one I had a few months ago. The first time I dreamt this dream it was longer. It started with me in the house walking up the stairs then it fades out then I remember the next morning walking down the stairs and in a hall way I see a lady who owns the house. However, she is not particularly shocked but asks why I’m there and I think I may have walked out into the garden. Maybe I felt that I was dreaming about something that I had done before because I have dreamt that dream before... Probably. 

In another dream about a house that I had last week, I found myself in a room with two others, (not people I know in my waking life). Then one of the two parent’s walk in. Then at that moment I feel I should leave. It’s quite a big house, in fact, it’s huge. For some reason or another I feel sort of ashamed. Then I push on a wall and it opens to a staircase. I walk down to the lower level and it’s where I see the parents again. I ask how many staircases this house has and the mother reply’s “four”. Then she pushes on a wall which opens to a little room that’s very dusty inside and there is also a spiral staircase in there leading to an upper level of the house. The mother seems happy. Then I leave and make my way down the street. I find myself in the inner city but not the inner city I am familiar with. I turn a corner and I walk past a grand and modern hotel foyer. I stand outside and it gets a bit fuzzy here because I’m not sure whether or not I’m walking with someone, or whether or not I go into the foyer. Then it ends... 

In the other dream, which occurred on the first night, I’m driving in the Blue Mountains  with someone (I can’t remember who, I don’t think it’s relevant at all) it’s an overcast and dull, sort of dark day. I look out and up on a hill I can see a very big, Georgian like Mansion. Then the dream cuts to me walking through the grand hall of the mansion and that’s all there is to it. I can’t really remember much about that particular dream. Except that it was in the country and the sky was quite dark with thick clouds overhead. 

On Reading Spinoza - Practical Philosophy

 “Let me ask you what brought you to Spinoza? Is it that he was a Jew?”

  “No, your honour. I didn’t know who or what he was when I first came across the book - they don’t exactly love him in the synagogue, if you’ve read the story of his life. I found it in a junkyard in a nearby town, paid a kopek and left cursing myself for wasting money hard to come by. Later I read through a few pages and kept on going as though there were a whirlwind at my back. As I say, I didn’t understand every word but when you’re dealing with such ideas you feel as though you were taking a witch’s ride. After that I wasn’t the same man . . .”

  “Would you mind explaining what you think Spinoza’s work means? In other words if it’s a philosophy what does it state?”

  “That’s not easy to say . . . The book means different things according to the subject of the chapters, though it’s all united underneath. But what I think it means is that he was out to make a free man of himself - as much as one can according to his philosophy, if you understand my meaning - by thinking things through and connecting everything up, if you’ll go along with that, your honour.” 

  “That isn’t a bad approach, through the man rather than the work. But . . .”

                              Malamud, The Fixer