parting words . . .

Click here for link to Harold Pinter's nobel laureate speech. Unmissable.

i have heard pinter is dying. he was too ill to travel to stockholm so his speech was recorded on sunday in a studio and shown at the ceremony and televised last night. ADDENDUM: guardian says he is due home form hospital next week, describing it as 'good news'.

i'm still shaking . . .

more later. but for now, please go read.

may his parting from this mortal coil be a journey of peace. . .

if you are not outraged, you're not paying attention.

LB, x

coming thick and fast

(or, i forgot to keep my finger on the trigger)

when you can't voice your thoughts and feelings writing is so much more necessary. you feel the inner purging bubbling up. unstoppable. if you don't, you'll fall apart. if you can get it out then maybe you can stumble forward into the next day. maybe if you can find the words to articulate what's going on in your soul then the confusion will be abated and you can find peace.

the private tortures are the conversations we never have the words never uttered the gestures not given all twisting and knotting up inside - riot thoughts.

these non-utterances are part of the carefully constructed walls of protection. the fortress from which to hide behind. but the hiding can't last forever. not if you want to let others in. speech is vulnerability. the words leave your mouth and strike the ear of the other. in the transmission you hold your breath knowing the most horrific truth of love:
when you speak your heart, you become vulnerable to the other. it is their choice to accept or reject you. to let you in or shut you out. you can't get love if you don't take that risk.

and so you turn vulnerability to rejection. add another few bricks to your wall and keep the other out. make them a stranger where they were moments before a friend or a lover or a brother. push them out and away. dress it up how you like. it's not you, it's me. keep out. i'll hurt you. generalise. rationalise. explain away. tell them you're doing it. it's just how it is. this is what we do to stay alive. and in the push, you hurt them. before they can hurt you. this is how you avoid the horror.

will you miss it? regret it? maybe. probably. but the risk of love is one that for some is far too high a stake.

better to have never known love at all than to have loved and lost.

LB, x

::ADDENDUM::

well, maybe there's a god above
but all i've ever learned from love
was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you

~ jeff buckley - hallelujah.

is this how it is for you?

Darling, stop confusing me,
With your wishful thinking.
Hopeful embraces,
Don’t you understand?
I have to go through this,
I belong to here where no-one cares,
And no-one loves.
No light no air to live in,
A place called hate,
The city of fear.

I play dead,
It stops the hurting.
I play dead,
And the hurting stops.

It’s sometimes just like sleeping,
Curling up inside my private tortures.
I nestle into pain,
Hug suffering,
Caress every ache

I play dead, it stops the hurting.

::Play Dead:: by Bjork from the album ::Debut::

rather be loved than a lab rat . . .

friends,

sorry for the ridiculous pause in these proceedings. last week i took a few days 'offline' and more significantly off work and tried to recover from an intense weekend. thanks for all those who've been poking me for a new post. nice to know you guys like calling round. . .

i'd like to say things are all bright and rosy. some bits are. others are seriously challenging my efforts to be surprised and gratitudinal.
yesterday i got protective redundancy notice. meaning unless funding comes in asap i'll be out of work as of 31 december. i knew it was a possibility but we'd been keeping optimistic and making plans. but the mood in the office is now one of thorough disheartedness. we've had several knock backs from funders that had been very encouraging in conversations about our work. it's weighing heavy and i have no idea what i'll do come january if i find myself unemployed. i think i'm in a bit of daze. i've been distracting myself with concern for the well being of A.N.Other. . . helps me avoid turning inward and admitting that this place is a haven of sorts and that i'd rather not face yet another major change. . .

coming soon:
thoughts on john o'donohue weekend. it is coming. please be patient.

musical treat of the week: sufjan stevens' christmas album . . .
http://www.chattablogs.com/quintus/archives/019666.html

this post had been intended to be something of a roll call - i have a lot of thank you's due . . .

gar, deb, bananie:
for the incredible music list for my anonymous friend - i'll compile a combined list soon!

john o'donohue:
for being the most audaciously incredible mystical guru one could ask for. (more to follow on that i promise)

paul chambers:
for whirlwind recklessness and letting me see behind the mask. and getting why the metallica moment is worship. and disarming directness.

willow:
for her bravery. enjoy the passion, sister. we're all rooting for ya. ;0)

ewan and mir:
for understanding.

padraig:
for being important enough that i'm missing you already. our 3 week loss is the aussie's gain.

tuesday group (that's chris, susan, mo, lynn and stephen):
for keeping it real.

gareth:
for a metaphysical barter of epic proportions. the good dr lodger asked me to give up my x-files vhs and tapes and dvds that i have collected over the years and give them to him. since i am learning the hard way that much of life is about letting go, i consented. far quicker than i would have guessed i could. my reward for such zen reckless letting go of my treasure? he has given me his newly acquired complete series boxset ::sweet::

danielle louise:
for being a great date and for my first christmas pressie

keli and stu:
cosmos and christmas trees

jayne:
for stability and the studio

ricky:
where to begin? for goldcrests, treecreepers, collard doves and coaltits. and all the Waxwing moments in abundance . . . see? i was paying attention chum.

::tenderness can sometimes seem like brutality to the broken hearted. . . i know i'm being tested::

LB.x