People keep asking how I am so I thought I would tell you.
Shithouse! Awful! A weeping mass of humanity!
But who wants to read about that? Not me. Every day I light this particular incense I bought from this outrageously priced gift shop ... it was the cheapest thing there. I hate walking around shops and seeing price tags for a pair of leggings for $200. People are fucking starving in the world. (Yes I AM a self-righteous and contradictory arsehole.)
You know when you spend so long in a shop rummaging that you HAVE to buy something? The shopkeeper just kept staring at me like I was a thief. I was so incensed that I bought some incense for $3.95.
Went and picked up the boys from school. Took them to the park, rummaged around my head for the small talk with the school mums (there was a lot of rummaging that day.) Bought the boys a pack of chips and a chocolate milk. Then they had a punch-up in the car.
Sometimes I turn into Medusa Mum.
YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW GOOD YOU HAVE IT NOBODY EVER TOOK ME TO THE PARK AFTER SCHOOL AND BOUGHT ME LOLLIES OR EVEN LOOKED ME IN THE EYES PROPERLY GET TO YOUR ROOMS
We all slam doors as we get out. Fucks sake whose idea was it to have children? Wished I was in France.
Looked around at a dirty kitchen, the wet washing, had to start on dinner.
Took the incense out of my bag and lit it .... bang. The smell assaulted the place. It was wickedly good, and for the first time ever I realised that incense could be used as a tool to bring yourself right back to this very moment, the only one we ever truly have. It was sharp and sweet and quick to burn. It reminded me of Bali and Thailand and India .... how confused I felt when the Hindis burnt incense early in the day, how foreign as a foreigner to smell such strong smells first thing in the morning.
I get it, now. I burn it most mornings, like a kind of meditation tool. It reminds me that nothing bad is actually happening in this moment, that a lot of things are just big and explosive in my head and I need to let go as much as I'm able. (There's just so much!) I googled "Gulab" incense, thinking it would be some magical, mysterious blend of exotic things.
The word gulab means rose ... beautiful, plain ole rose.
If you watch the smoke long enough, you can see the spirits dancing.
Shithouse! Awful! A weeping mass of humanity!
But who wants to read about that? Not me. Every day I light this particular incense I bought from this outrageously priced gift shop ... it was the cheapest thing there. I hate walking around shops and seeing price tags for a pair of leggings for $200. People are fucking starving in the world. (Yes I AM a self-righteous and contradictory arsehole.)
You know when you spend so long in a shop rummaging that you HAVE to buy something? The shopkeeper just kept staring at me like I was a thief. I was so incensed that I bought some incense for $3.95.
Went and picked up the boys from school. Took them to the park, rummaged around my head for the small talk with the school mums (there was a lot of rummaging that day.) Bought the boys a pack of chips and a chocolate milk. Then they had a punch-up in the car.
Sometimes I turn into Medusa Mum.
YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW GOOD YOU HAVE IT NOBODY EVER TOOK ME TO THE PARK AFTER SCHOOL AND BOUGHT ME LOLLIES OR EVEN LOOKED ME IN THE EYES PROPERLY GET TO YOUR ROOMS
We all slam doors as we get out. Fucks sake whose idea was it to have children? Wished I was in France.
Looked around at a dirty kitchen, the wet washing, had to start on dinner.
Took the incense out of my bag and lit it .... bang. The smell assaulted the place. It was wickedly good, and for the first time ever I realised that incense could be used as a tool to bring yourself right back to this very moment, the only one we ever truly have. It was sharp and sweet and quick to burn. It reminded me of Bali and Thailand and India .... how confused I felt when the Hindis burnt incense early in the day, how foreign as a foreigner to smell such strong smells first thing in the morning.
I get it, now. I burn it most mornings, like a kind of meditation tool. It reminds me that nothing bad is actually happening in this moment, that a lot of things are just big and explosive in my head and I need to let go as much as I'm able. (There's just so much!) I googled "Gulab" incense, thinking it would be some magical, mysterious blend of exotic things.
The word gulab means rose ... beautiful, plain ole rose.
If you watch the smoke long enough, you can see the spirits dancing.
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Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell