...And it is followed by a great deal of pain!

Hello. Today i am OWCH!-ing. However this OWCH!-es less than the OWCH of missing my family.
Speaking of losing innocence last night with Sarah got me wonderring whether I am capable of losing any more. And I know that finding out will either result in losing more innocence I did not know I had left, or just simply be too sad to avoid going into mourning.
I haven't done this in a while. Instead I've bottled them up and turned stone cold.
And that is why, now that Aslan has breathed on the witch's grotesque statues, I wake and find I miss my last and only conncetion to innocence and immaturity. The little one who is not little. The mature one, who brings out the Peter Pan Syndrome from the depths of Elest with pangs of torrential weeping for sorrow and for joy.

Saimecanii.
...

Never should we allow our youngest siblings to grow. We should do all in our power to protect them from what corrupted us and turned us adult.

'The fact is that I find in the day's light, in this diffused, pale almost shadowless luminosity, a darkness deeper than the night's.'

If on a Winter's Night a Traveller: Italo Calvino

...

Elle est Still sober, may God be praised, is not a pessimist. She feels sad about many things, because sadness is a beautiful, comforting place, and she has rather dark inclinations, which is why we (in the multiple personality sense) are goth, but she is not a pessimist. Thank you.
Having said that PMT and the odd depression doesn't count towards pessimism either. They just mean that we are female and we are an artist. Thank you.
Speaking of which: to add to the list of things which should never be under-estimated, such as feline affection and onigiri, there is PMT...

...Because it is a great sorrow that emanates from the merciful hidden soul of that place and that source of life and of love in the world, that God has retained in the fragile, female frame. And though we may never know why, what for and what it is saying to us, it is a sacred cry from the core of our human essence, and it is a reminder in the darkness of monotonous dawns and when stone hearts turn brittle in the banal sound and motion of tube trains, when nothing else could wake you.

I'm going to keep a tally of the amount of times I need to get up to shut the door after people who come in and out of this office fail to do so.
I've spent most of today in the eye of the most vicious draft, very productively producing report after report for the staff news letter, most of them concerning Somalia...CURSE, THEY DID IT AGAIN!

UB40 had this song, where the lyrics went something like, '...there's brother killing brother, people living on their knees, biting sugar coated bullets for the pain of this disease.' I don't know why I rememberred that today...but it got me thinking that one step after another, and eventually the turns you took disconncet you so severly from who you were. Standing here now, I wonder if the person I was, saw that eventually some good would come of this. And I wonder if that person was here now, would she still see some hope, or would she think it more wise to step away now, before I'm lost for good.

It's not the people I love that I'm trying to avoid and sugar coat the truth for, it's myself. And everyday I'm forgetting more and more, why.

Welcome back holy dark.

The woman who says 'mind the gap' at Mansion House station, sounds like she's saying 'mind the duck'.

I haven't gone out with the girls since last Sunday, and am feeling very...errr...cut off? In any case:

• Moved into new place at Earls Court, alhamdullah... Woohoo!

-this means we've moved up the property ladder, so to speak, and are residing amidst the cream of society, and this is good, because my poor, beggarly, self-destructive artist-ness is a romantic novelty in such an area.

• Got a job and working with Muslim Aid, alhamdullah... Woohoo!

-And this means we are using our creativity for the greater good of man and against universal sufferring, which makes us socially aware and as compassionate as an existential mindset would allow.

Why? Alber Camus, The Outsider, that's why. And that's probably the worst thing about existentialism...the fact that in a selfish world of utter human isolation, there really is no room for compassion.

Hello, I haven't blogged in over a month.
Why?
Life.
'Twil throw at you many a thing, like things, like pancakes which fly, and you will be overwhelmed by all these flying pancakes, all flying at you like a school of fishes (but not with wings), and you will not know what to do with them, and in your panic and confusion and struggle to catch as many pancakes as you can, you will spill the maple syrup all over the place, and everything will be sticky and mushy and damnit, who gonna clean this mess now, huh?
...
I've been back in London for over a month, and as of Monday I'm finally going to have a propper place to stay, where I can stop living out of a suitcase. Where I can put my clothes in a cupboard, have my own bed, and prance about the flat in my underware to my hearts desire. Where I won't have to worry about my presence being intollerable or tiring for others and where I will also have my own time, and space and strangeness in which to think and collect my pieces if they are collectable still.
What sucks most is that a week ago, in spite of the uncertainty and nervousness, I thought I knew what kind of a turn my life would be taking from now on. Lo and behold, I was wrong.
Now, return ticket gone, penniless, homeless and with my parents pissed off at me, I'm in London, and I don't know. I just don't know.
However, instead of looking at it like its some huge drama, which it is, I can just concentrait on getting a job as soon as possible, and hopefully figure things out from there.
As Asma said: a year from now, there is no way you will still be in this situation. Things will change. So don't worry.
The scary thing is, a year ago I couldn't have imagined all of this would happen. And I'm dreading what else is possible in the space of a single year.
2007, I aint particularly looking forward to you, but you know what, give it all you've got, coz I'm so down it's starting to feel like up now.

On a lighter note; to Shakila's amusement, Elest got chatted up by the waiter at Taro today.
Once upon a time that would have made me feel good. Those blasted pancakes, how they change you.