Water

Queue water,
Introduction water,
Community water.
Water from the tap,
Tap water,
Water from the shower
Culture of water,
Time spent; time spent for water,
Time for water,
Tribes for water; water tribes,
Water transfer,
Water treatment,
Water pipe; piped water,
Water connection,
Transmit water; water transmission,
Water security,
Kenya water; Kenyan water,
Water pollution; polluted water,
Consumable water,
Water conflicts, conflicts of water,
Fetching water,
Irrigation, irrigate,
Well; water wells,
Rationed water; water ration,
Water charge, pay for water,
Water payments,
Water solutions; solutions to water,
Nomad water; travelling like water,
Following the rain,
Following the wetness;
Travelling water,
Certified water; water certificate,
Private water,
Managed water,
Government water,
Local water,
Provided water; water providers,
Conflict water, water conflict;
Water permits; permitted water,
Community water projects,
Failed water projects,
Failed water,
Benefits of water,
Water donors,
Waters fails,
Donors fail,
Oil like water,
Oil and water resource,
Water resource,
Female water,
Water for the girls,
Water by the girls,
Carried, collected, kept,
Harvested, owned?
Water for women,
Women’s water.
Dammed water; water dammed,
Dammed by the water,
Dam the water,
Dam water,
Coloured water,
Blue, green, black, brown,
Muddy, clear, murky, slimy,
Cold, hot, cool, warm,
Wet,
Wet water,
Dry water,
Live water,
Dead water,
Drowned.
Thirst quenching water,
Water for life,
Alive water,
Awake water,
Help water,
Rehydrating water,
WATER.
Laughing water; crying water,
Helping water; fun water,
Water, water, water
WATER.
Water to live; water for life,
WATER
Vegetable water; soup water,
Hot water,
Tea, coffee, and water,
Water economy,
Economy of water,
Money water
WATER.

by Dix

Applications

Applications; applications; applications. Apply for jobs that sound good; apply for jobs that sound OK; apply for jobs that will do. Applying.

Filling in endless forms about me - listing me. Listing my details; listing my qualifications; listing my jobs; listing, listing. Listing the jobs that sounded OK, that fit the criteria - missing out the ones that didn't work, that only lasted a while or were just bloody awful. Filling the dates up so that it all fits.

Sitting at the computer typing up dates and details and hoping; hoping that someone will be interested; someone will think - this person could be interesting, this person could be right, this person could be just what we are looking for. This person could be it.

Then the personal statement. What to say? What to say and how to say? Do I want to go on about me; go on with the I, I, I, me, me, me. Making it sound good, making it sound appropriate, making it sound exciting without being big headed, making it sound like it fits the job description.

Making it sound like this is a person they would like to see; this is a person they would like to interview; this is a person they would like to give a job too. Making it sound like this is a person!

Endless rounds of form filling; endless words to make me sound good; endless words to make me fit the job; to make it happen for me.

Will it happen? Will this come to anything or just another round of waiting for the phone to ring; waiting for the letter to drop through my door asking me to come and talk; to come and sell myself all over again?

Or will it just be nothing; no letter - no contact - no nothing. Never knowing what I did wrong; never knowing why I am not good enough for any of these jobs. Am I too old; too stupid; too fat; to ugly; to qualified; not qualified enough; just not right? Never right, never, never, right. Always, always, wrong.

Never, never knowing.

Even the no letter feels better that nothing.

Feels better that never, never never knowing.

Mottled pebbles

There are lots of pebbles that crunch underfoot and make walking hard. The pebbles all seems dark brown, brown and round and crunchy underfoot. But with each step, with each crunch, with each examination the pebbles gain individuality.

There are white ones - some shiny white from the wet of the waves - glowing almost. Some have only white flecks or marbling or clear stripes. Sometimes the whiteness almost appears like a picture, like a face.

Then the black pebbles - very black; ebony black in the wetness. Large and uneven, small and neatly rounded by the waves. And yellow and many different shades of brown and redness that is sometimes ground down remains of house bricks.

Green shafts of rubbed bottle remain in places. Amber looks dull and worthless but reflects against the sun for those that know what they are looking for. Many colours, many shades.

The only bright unnatural colours come from man made items abandoned. Bright blue cleaning bottles and a solitary pink child's sandal; half a green metal spade and endless bear bottle labels. They pollute the natural beauty of the pebbles.

Occasionally a pebble is rescued from its beach side home but as it dries away from the sea it become dull and unspectacular like it can only shine in its wave side domain.

Driving Past

Trees, like image markers on the eyes, rushing past, blinking out the sun momentarily then allowing it to glare back. Blank dark, glare bright. Blank dark, glare bright. Flashing the markers of the journey - in dark and light. Flashing the markers of the journey in calm and pain.

Rushing air past the window; tyres grumbling on tarmac; grumbling and bumping into pot holes - on and on. Distance felt in each flash and grumble. Distance lost in the blink of the eye and the second remembrance of a landmark or place. Endless fields of yellow or corn; waving past in haste. Time goes on.

Journey continues - music blares from the CD player, unheard in the mind even when lyrics are softly murmured; always slightly out of beat; always behind the sounds; always behind the music; always behind the time.

Always behind the time for journey past.

The time for driving past.

Dix

Should I

Should I
Shouldn't I
Would I
Wouldn't I
Will I
Can I
Make Me!

Trust me to
Help me to
Make me do
Please!

Is there time
Find the time
Make the time
Now!

Habit

Habit
biscuits and tea
tea and biscuits.
Habitual
time to eat
lunch time
dinner time
breakfast time
chocolate time.

Chocolate make me happy
Chocolate makes me sad
Chocolate calms me down
Chocolate makes me sleep
Chocolate makes me.
Everyday brown stuff
oozing down my throat
sweet tasteless goo
that shows on TV
that shows on the
billboards and buses
everywhere.

Cheap and easy to buy
and eat,
secretly,
silently,
quickly,
quick food,
sweet food,
boost food,
calm food,
sticky food,
oozy food,
fast food,
fat food.
Girls food?

Childhood memories of secret binges,
two quids worth of chocolate from the Co-op,
stolen bars from work at the Post Office,
secretly eaten behind the counter in the semi-dark.

Hypergraphia

Hypergraphia - a compulsion to write.

An overwhelming urge to write but not a disorder. Hypergraphia is in the cerebral brain (the bit that controls the body movements, that controls hand movements amongst others).

It is driven by the limbic system.

A desire.

A need.

A compulsion.

A compulsion to find the works; to show emotions; to find inspiration.

It is NOT a disorder.

Hypergraphia finds the words to write; the words that pop into your head; that push into your brain.

It is in the frontal lobe. The frontal lobe where ideas and words cognise.

Hypergraphia is in the frontal lobe - behind the ears - a place where words are edited.

Hypergraphia is a Mania - a frontal lobe mania where words are created, written, spoken and created.

A need to write.

The writing is not always good. It is not always manic. It may not even make sense. It may be a symptom of the mania.

It may be a part of the high.

It may be a part of the low.

Many suffer -we are not alone.

Hypergraphia is not an illness.

Famous people had it. Van Gogh wrote and painted like an addiction.

Lewis Carroll's Wonderland came from behind his ears.

Hypergraphia - becoming obsessed with a manic disorder.

Hypergraphia - obsessed with an obsession to write.