Every now and then, something popped out as a standout piece, a classic, something to remember, a highlight.
This is the ‘best of’ album of ellemhach.
i’m so fucking philosophical lately.. this is the problem with my life at the moment: a huge part of me has this need to analyse …
it was huge.. a huge bank of clouds.. rolling in towards the city, coming in from the east. i was sitting on the back steps, …
i was leaning in the doorway of the fire exit of STA Travel on Adelaide street.. i was so tired.. after meeting Aaron (the latest …
“Letters are symbols. They are building blocks of words which form our languages. Languages help us communicate. Even with complicated languages used by intelligent people, …
entry #30.. at least its still going..
if I hold it close to my heart…
if I had thought about it first…
if I let you in on the secret…
if I could put you on a pedestal…
if you would take better care of yourself…
if you could consider the consequences…
if I allowed you any more leeway…
if I had let you get away with it…
if I was more like the rest of the world…
if I could change the way I react…
if you would let me go…
if I could break free of the past…
words words words words words words words and more words. words that hurt. words that hurt because they should have been spoken. words that hurt because they should have been heard. words that hurt because they are not the truth. words that hurt because they are the truth. words you recognise. words that you disregard. words that are meaningless. words that are loaded. words words words words words words words and more words.
You are walking down the street but nothing is familiar. You are a child who left her parents too soon; a brat, a blank subject. …
cold concrete touches the
warm skin of her back
cold blasting winds trace the line of her jaw
she shudders
WASTELAND once a playground for the critique of
reason and creative activity
RUBBLE she looks back o her past – she sees rubble
golf carts passing on distant hills
sirens blaring down distant streets
unrecognisable voices promise things I don’t want
PARIAH
I need a pariah
meditative stasis
what does one see when one meets an objective view of one’s past?
(actual date unknown – approx Nov 98)
I call for a revolution!
Dissatisfaction and oppression reign,
The angst we feed off is controlling the action,
The anchor is snagged on the rocky outcrop.
I call for a revolution!
An internal mutiny will prevail,
Analyse the weak points, plan my manoeuvres,
The anchor is dragging on the sandy ocean floor.
I call for a revolution!
Crumble the walls of defence, attack the hierarchy of power,
Listen to the psychobabble of the unyielding empire,
Raise the anchor to forge on.
I call for a revolution!
The cannons are firing, missing their targets,
Rebounding, returning, impervious of intricate intention,
The anchor is up in the midst of the battle.
I call for a revolution!
The masses are rising, wielding their swords,
My fortress has fallen, the heart of the system exposed,
The anchor is up, and I am wounded, defeated and
drifting in open seas…
