I haven't written in ages and there is one damn good reason. I am a blathering fool in denial but compelled non the less.

Back to life, life online and off.

Found a few friends with blogs,

http://slimpickens.wordpress.com/2009/02/22/method-in-malcolms-madness/

bloody entertaining read care of Cakra.
Then there is this beauty in true Aussie style:

http://billabongasauras.blogspot.com/

care of Deva.
And of course braja the mightiest blogger of them all
http://lostandfoundinindia.blogspot.com/

and shaka.

http://itsvedic.wordpress.com/

What makes a person blog? There is thesis fodder here, I can smell it.

I have to write for uni and though I feel mildly confident I am still in hell. A squandered intellect wrapped in vanity and dissipation. I'd like to get on a roll but life just gets in the way and to fight it requires truck loads of discipline. I mean, wouldn't I prefer to have a cuppa with my young friend and theorize on the woes and ways of life while her four children wonder the house?
Don't I want to go to my older friends house and help her place her new marble stand while she tells me the ways. Or have tea and cake with the Youngs and feel the house rattle with our children thundering around looking for cheap egg chocolates. The woman sit rattling with stories and wonders. All of this and more in one day and I have to write the damn essay. Oh no I don't , I have to go to work to pay for toys and tea.

Speaking of which, I watched Zeitgeist Adendum. Brilliant watch that can be downloaded with ease. DId I say something illegal? Hahah, I don't think so.
It pretty much summarised the modes we had been engaging with but in conceivable terms. No one and I mean no one is going to go feral. Well hardly. This was still idealistic but viable for most.

Living in town is ok when I put my rose coloured glasses on and pretend it is cosmopolitan. I love the park with the huge chess set that waits, a bloody long time, to be played by the old and young of this town. The swings, the mothers, the cafe's. The library, but when I pass the bush and smell the rain, hear the waterfalls and see mount Warning, I hanker. Another life perhaps. Certainly not now. There is obviously work to be done but I can not fathom why. Still haven't really figured this "Secret" thing out.

I mean, I don't mind sitting in a funky Indian shop for ten hours straight. That can do things to a person. For the first four weeks I was getting a migraine evey time I worked. What does that say about me? I laugh.

Shaka , poor sod, is working her butt off.
Rhada just showed me how to fold a t shirt in 2 seconds. She learnt this from the internet. This is what this great medium is for. She also discovered what do to with acne and other adolescent concerns. She is feeling pretty empowered running around the house spreading the glories of the true light in t shirt folding. It is, after all, pretty nifty. I'll do this photo thing one day.

Kalki dances for youtube while the rest of us write. What is this first world we live in?

Tired ......of?

It's raining, always raining so that I worry about the mice and there wet little houses. Wet houses means company.

Get back into the space. Leave the outside behind. it didn't happen. The twilight zone tortures with its lack of productivity.

Bach remedies for sleep, chimes for cakras. Think I'll get a massage but then what?