On 16 MONTHS

Is how long i've been away from home.

Ie, 15 and a half months longer than i thought i'd be here.

How much homesickness does that entitle me to?

Cos for the past 24 hours, I have developed an acute bout of homesickness.

 

& & &

 

(Shakedown 1979, cool kids never have the time
On a live wire right up off the street
You and I should meet
Junebug skipping like a stone
With the headlights pointed at the dawn
We were sure wed never see an end to it all
And I dont even care to shake these zipper blues
And we dont know
Just where our bones will rest
To dust I guess
Forgotten and absorbed into the earth below
Double cross the vacant and the bored
Theyre not sure just what we have in the store
Morphine city slippin dues down to see
That we dont even care as restless as we are
We feel the pull in the land of a thousand guilts
And poured cement, lamented and assured
To the lights and towns below
Faster than the speed of sound
Faster than we thought wed go, beneath the sound of hope
Justine never knew the rules,
Hung down with the freaks and the ghouls
No apologies ever need be made, I know you better than you fake it
To see that we dont care to shake these zipper blues
And we dont know just where our bones will rest
To dust I guess
Forgotten and absorbed into the earth below
The street heats the urgency of sound
As you can see theres no one around)

 

pic: Arezo

On Make-Believe

Pigs Fly.
And Eggs grow from Plants.

On Ready or Not

I got cold today.
Not because of air con or ice-cream.
But because it's now that time of year here.

Not ready for the chill.
But i admire Autumn for it's punctuality.

On Port*man*teau

1. A large travelling bag made of stiff leather and opening into two equal parts

2. Consisting of two or more aspects or qualities

 

pic: smosch

On THIS HEDGEHOG

(At the bottom of hillel stairs one night) 

Sophie: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! 

              CYYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTT!!!!!!

              SHEEELAAAH! NAZEEEE! LOOK!!!! 

Sheila: Eww gross. What is that. Bye guys, im outta here

On Not Fluffy, Very Serious, BBC Stuff

My housemate Sheila has a younger sister called Mona, too.

Crazy, huh?

Her Mona sent her this. 

And here it is for you, Mona. 

pic:  kiss the paper

On Spongedom

Being in Haifa is like being a sponge. 

Not the thin, sturdy, dense types you mop up spills with, but the big, holey, car-wash types that have more air holes than not. 

Here, your spongey self gets to sit essentially inanimately under a dripping tap. By no will of your own, but by that of your land lord that placed you there. 

So you sit here, under this tap, and you soak up the drip. You simply soak. Up. 

You soak up til you're full. Til you're heavy, and til the holes are no longer gaseous vacuous voids, but little pools of liquid droplets. 

The thing is, the holes will never fill out. The sponge comes with holes. Its just the nature of the sponge. The holes will be holes. Forever. Through weathering and general wear and tear, the holes may in fact become more vacuous over time. But all that does is allows for greater water-holding capacity. 

The sweetest part is, when the holes are filled with water, the sponge's purpose has come into fruition. A sponge is no use dry. But then again, a full, inanimate sponge is a field trip for mould. Filling is only part of the purpose - wringing out is the other. 

By the time you leave this place, you are a full, brimming sponge of great water-yielding capacity. 

Then, its time to wring. 

pic: smosch