Last night, as I slept
I turned over and it became clear
My loosened ass had wept
Covering me in diarrhoea
Sleepily I stumbled
Throwing my undies to the sink
My stomach continually rumbled
As I showered off my stink
A towel laid over the bed
A semblance of being clean
Only thing now in my head
I was shitting in my dream
And then again I woke
My ass burst another leak
Something inside me broke
I couldn’t have felt more weak
I went through clean up again
More sleep I know I should
After happy rainbow dreams then
I woke up feeling pretty good
Sometimes when covered in shit
And feel we cannot cope
Try to stop thinking about it
And never give up hope
100% true, unfortunately. Not altogether an uncommon experience in Thailand, no one is squeamish to talk about diarrhoea.
A truth-teller, honest words
Things you don’t like to hear
Uncovered, revealed for all
How could it happen here?
Sentenced, silenced and forgotten
Evidence made to disappear
A memory, a closed chapter
History rewritten clear
The winners, they are liars
And always living in fear
Inspired by Daniel Hale. I feel we should rename ‘whistleblower’ to ‘truth-teller’. I can hear the Minutemen in my head as I read this.
Little girl, lost in her thoughts
Searching for the why
Struggles on, trapped inside
Whilst the world passes by
No answers, questions repeating
What purpose being?
Everyone else in happiness
Is the illusion she is seeing
Tell yourself, forgive yourself
And be kind to your heart
Get back up on your horse
And every day, just start
The way is forward, moving on
Learning from the past
It’s a cliche, but live each day
As if it was your last
The Week That Was – 21st January 1979
It’s time to cut the lawn again
Pull out all the weeds
Time for regeneration
And sowing hardy seeds
Time to reevaluate everything
To see which way succeeds
Time to return to our nature
On which this family feeds
Gravity is massaging the back of my knees
As I lay on this table, legs dangling
Staring at the ceiling, silent, intrigued
Is it pain or pleasure? Receptors untangling
Making a tune to the whir of the fans
Stirring imaginary ghosts into songlight
Today is the day to execute yesterday’s plans
Stride forth, in confidence and upright
Waking up, never sure I am me
Wondering today just who I will be
Sometimes you do not want to be controlled
You make me do all the things that I’m told
You whisper those dark secrets in my ear
Directing me through prejudice and fear
I try to blank you out, please go away!
I try to yank you out, but you will stay
Like a dog barking at the thinnest air
I’m talking to someone who isn’t there
A living being conjured in my brain
An agent I must practice to restrain
You’re taking over, no longer to wait
I cannot hold it so I accept my fate
Snuffle in the undergrowth
There’s something living there
Scratching at an itchy head
And sniffing at the air
Sad dog sat contemplating
Where has the feeder gone?
Time to sleep in the road
Til the next car comes along
The Week That Was – 14th January 1979
I’m a walking contradiction
No, I’m not, I plead
One day this, one day that
How can I succeed?
Do as I say, not as I do
I’m going nowhere fast
When I say that red is blue
I mean that first is last
I’m a walking contradiction
Depending on my mood
Don’t tell me about yesterday
When I was really rude
I know what is right and wrong
And I must always be right
Try to keep up with me
And I’ll enjoy the fight
Hello, my old friend, where have we been?
I travelled around the world to see the things I’ve seen
The past is a cloaked memory yet difficult to forget
Here we are again with little time to be upset
All the hopes and dreams we shared, left along the way
Stuck in a nine-to-five, kids and rent to pay
Do we recognise each other with the words we are using?
No longer in need to win if one of us is losing
The Week That Was – 7th January 1979
After reading both Stephen Fry’s books on Greek Myths and Heroes I picked up two volumes of The Arabian Nights (or One Thousand and One Nights) and I started reading the first one today.
Whilst I was reading I was conscious of the fact that I often take something in from the story and then almost immediately forget the details. For instance, I started reading a new bedtime book last night and today I can’t even remember what it is. Just being a file on my iPad doesn’t help with trying to remember things either.
So as I was reading this first story, which sets up the premise for the rest of the book, I decided I should write down a summary of the events, without too much detail, to help me remember, but also to understand more deeply.
Summary of the Story Of King Shahryar and His Brother
There were two brothers. One found his wife cheating with another man, so killed her. He was devastated by her betrayal and also remorseful for having killed her. He made himself sick.
The other brother, seeing him sick, took him in but whilst there found his brother’s wife cheating too. He realised that whilst he was suffering, others were also suffering. Telling himself things weren’t so bad he started to feel better.
His brother asked what had brought about this change and he reluctantly told of what he saw. Once the brother also saw this betrayal with his own eyes, he too, killed his wife.
They decided to get away from their betrayals and perhaps seek others who were suffering even more, a way to make themselves feel better.
They came across a monster, who kept his wife locked up. He had let her out and promptly fallen asleep, whereupon she saw the two brothers and insisted they make love to her whilst the monster slept.
They saw that the monster was suffering even more than themselves but the actions of the woman were immoral and vowed never to trust a woman again.
They returned to their lives and after sleeping with a virgin woman, killed her the following day so she would never be able to twist the hearts of men.
Eventually, virgins were becoming scarce and one brother asked his friend where to find more. The friend repeated the story to his two virgin daughters and one insisted she knew a way to put an end to this difficult situation.
These weak men, never challenging themselves as complicit in their wives actions, prefer to blame and punish what they dare not understand. Of course, women have suffered in every region and era of history yet it begs belief that if tales such as this become established amongst children they are likely to take that into adulthood and pass it on from generation to generation.
Should tales of old be updated for modern audiences and cultures? Cut the wheat from the chaff? Should they be completely replaced?
Of course, the summary ends on a more positive note as a woman is prepared to put herself in danger to provide a solution. Does it work? I don’t know yet.
I purposely left out the fact that the brothers are kings and tried to make the summary more human. The downside of this is that it is not in most human minds or possibility to kill every woman they sleep with. Being a king (or having that illusion) seems to allow for that possibility!
I used monster instead of jinn or genie as I was trying to understand what difference this makes. I feel that a human can be a monster but not a genie.
As in all good stories, I want to know what happens next.