Ahhhh Melancholy – one of my favourite words. Mel-an-choly. Mel-an-choly. It is a line of poetry, a stanza in itself. So less depressing than depression. An interlude rather than a condition. An adagio rather than a grave. “Melancholy is the pleasure of being sad” said Victor Hugo, and as the writer of Les Misérables, I guess he knew…
Author: unwrapping
Confrontation (and the Consequences) on Trains
Confrontation is an uncomfortable experience for all concerned. Particularly – it seems – on a train. I was once confronted with the feedback that I “avoided confrontation”. This was presented to me as a vice, whereas I had naively thought that the altruistic desire not to upset other people, coupled with the reasonable desire for self-preservation,…
The Plausibility of Pistorius
I am fascinated by the whole Oscar Pistorius tragedy. Not because he is famous, not because he is an athlete and not because he has prosthetic legs. But because he has shot and killed another human (Reeva Steenkamp), confessed openly to this, whilst at the same time constructing almost the perfect excuse/alibi. The tragedy of course…
Blogwash#1 – Hills and Headwinds
Life is a cycle ride. Would you rather cycle through it down-hill into the wind or up-hill with the wind behind you? Hills are predictable. As a kid, I would plot a route on a good old-fashioned map, and by marking off the contours create a vertical section of the terrain. It usually looked disappointingly…
Training Fleas and Taming our Fears
A man walks into a bar carrying a suitcase and orders a beer. “What’s in your case”, asks the barman. “Performing fleas” says the man. “How do you train a flea?” asks the barman, with a skeptical smile on his face, handing him his pint. The man drinks in down in one and places the…
abstinence makes the heart grow stronger
So, I have successfully abstained from poisoning myself with alcohol for 31 days, as part of the great January Dryathalon. And, as one friend rather sardonically questioned “what was all the fuss about?” For her, a life-long teetotaller, it was a fair question. I was equally unimpressed by her abstinence from harming furry animals, starting small fires and…
EGB – These be the Verses
16.4.1932 – 30.1.1978 By her It Must Die On Failing to Advise Failures Trivia Caspar If It Hurts The Trap Apathy Platitudes Slum Clearance Vitality October Newly Added Précis on sense of touch We are the Dead People A Little Another Satire Depair Optimism About her Fragile Transparency Blair Atholl Mothers Day The Last Word…
Blair Atholl
I saw a ghost today Of happy times Days full of life. In a small overgrown field, The same stream rushes down below, The little hut remains in the corner. The narrow road still winds behind the old, stone wall. The scents of grass and freshness linger. And almost audible I hear the whispers of…
Transparency
One moment, a sliver of time captured on film, a surgical exposure of soul, unbeknownst to the model. Sitting there, joining in, her heart and mind miles away, she dreams of the unfamiliar, the exciting, the exotic, she craves to be anywhere but there. The ocean torments her and entices her, it flows freely –…
Fragile
A fragile flower Her vivid petals flamboyantly Splayed and displayed Attracting and distracting the eye. A statement of self Unable to be other than her essence. Take me, or leave me I am who I am For better or for worse (Probably for worse). She self-destructs, of course Inevitably, tragically. And the world is duller…
Unwrapping The World 