A story of a poet

When the late Tawfiq Zayyahd, the former mayor of Nazareth, became a member of the Israeli parliament, his Hebrew was not very good. One of the government members shouted, "Where did you study Hebrew?" and he replied, "In your prisons."

A Monday thought

For people who want their straight lines to be straight, life itself is the problem.
Natalia Ilyin

Post no. 225

And just like post no. 1 I'm faced with the inherent problem of what to actually say.

Waiting rooms

The magazines, the table with the chairs arranged around them, the pictures of mountains and people looking healthy, the leaflet rack with advice on everything from pregnancy to weight loss. And the waiting of course.

Words from the toilet wall

I'll be your mirror in case you don't realise the beauty you are.

Hmmmmmm.

Exactly.

Bored, Bored Bored

Oh dear. I've been sitting at my desk for approximately one hour and I'm already beginning to pull my hair out (people who have seen me however will know that I don't actually have much hair to start with). Half my team are stuck in the Netherlands due to the storms we have been having here in Europe, whilst the other half seem to have given up on the whole silly idea of 'coming to work' entirely.

10000000 million green bottles standing on the wall, and if one green bottle was to accidentally fall There'd be 9999999 bottles standing on the wall....

A short reflection on death

I found out this evening that someone I once knew passed away last year. I didn't know them very well, a couple of emails, a dinner at someone's place. That's all. I wouldn't have thought a moment more about them until someone mentioned, in passing over dinner, that they had died. People die every day, and yet I feel nothing, but now I do. Feel. No matter how much we hide it, there is humanity in us all. Thank God.

Just another day in the eternal city

Mad, formula one wannabe, chain smoking taxi drivers moaning about the traffic and the abnormally warm winter. Beautiful buildings popping up around every street corner. The pace and bustle of a big city. More coffee than you can shake a stick at, and I don't even like coffee. A language that I can't understand, but one that I'd really like to.

One day in and I really like this place. And the evening hasn't even started yet.

Amen.

Living the dream

But the question is who does the dream belong to?

The same old story

Too much time. Too little time. Too busy. Too bored. Too happy. Too sad. Too hungry. Too full. Too content. Too restless. Too closed. Too raw. Too self loving. Too self hating.

Yes, the holiday season is over and melancholy has returned. Maybe its the grey skies, maybe its the lack of sleep, maybe its that time of the month, maybe its just me.

Lost

Speaking English. On an Italian Train. In Switzerland.

There is a message somewhere here.

02:48

What am i doing. Here. At this hour. With a gin and tonic. Typing. Slightly pissed.

Why am I not. In bed. Fast asleep. With a good book. A water bottle.

02:51 f**k knows.

Things I learnt over the holiday season

- That Ross-on-Wye and Hay-on-Wye are two different places. Although I am still convinced that Ross is more than capable of holding a world renowned literary festival. Despite its seeming lack of bookshops. Probably.

- That knitting is bloody hard. I mean Jesus. Whilst I am very happy with my seven rows of a square, it might take a while to knock out a jumper at this rate. Knitters of the world I salute you.

- That my scrabble game needs work.

- That Bath ales are actually brewed in Bristol. OK so that probably doesn't sound earth shattering, but it surprised me. Or at least it did after my fifth pint of the stuff. Yum.

- That my brother loves me. And that I love him.

- That I know some bloody amazing people around the world. Bristol, London, Berlin, Helsinki, Geneva et al. Wow. We're all on our own journeys, and are travelling at our own speeds, but I know we'll all meet at the other end.