Idle Sparks .................. *

Pause, hold it, hold it, can you just give us a sec. I could talk and talk but I cannot gurantee you will want to hear it. There are times when silence is preferred and I would be greatful for this to be one of those times. You sit there at first all stand-offish, giving me that don’t come near me routine and all of a sudden, eyes ablaze, sit straight, lean forward, mouth open to catch the words. Eyes open to the hidden languages, you listen intently to the moment of anticipation and time slows down for you. What could I do to fill these spaces your senses have created? Im just not that interesting. I hide behind this face, this beard, these eyes that wont be met. I think I fill this space in half measures. I am here yet I am at the edge of your vision, even when you look directly at me. I am a film of satin, you are looking through me. I have not gone anywhere as I am not really here, am I. They would call me the anonymous if I wasn’t so…...well you get it. Underground with the harsh lights blinking above me, my oily reflection stares back. Puffy eyes, stupid look on your face. I only like the view of me from my minds eye, the only reflection there is one of memory. Every time I look at myself in this window I see a sad clown, not even that, clowns can hide behind paint. I just see a sad man. I cant smile so I laugh, I laugh a lot. Laughter keeps me healthy, laughter is my face paint. But done be fooled, the laughing clown has a down turned face and his sad eyes do not fool anybody. People who laugh with me always end with a frown. They begin to wonder how this sad face made them forget what the eyes so clearly see. In that respect I am also a magician.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 05:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

What a strange place to sit with my brain outside my skin. I am experiencing this day as an observer of reality television. I retain nerves that tighten the chest and tire me. Nerves that remained so for a month. That kept me awake, even in sleep, to the responsibilities of the day. Barely 300 metres from the scene of this catalyst, I receive a call that lives up to its description. It calls me back to those feelings again. I will end this here and now. Goodbye and goodnight to you. I am for freedom from this mood. Adieu

Posted by Idle Sparks at 04:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Happenstance. Bringing forth thought and memory smells. I like those. Time travel for the senses. A wind is not ill, but it can bring memory in its trail. I haven’t known a memory triggered by anything so vividly as smell. I have not had one in ages of men. I have not been caught up in a tornado of memory. Push me a gust wind God, blow me a scene of my past. Breathe me an event long forgotten. And when I die, lift me up and carry me with the combined force of my past and I will be judged by the distance it takes me. Age 33, will the wind take me to the horizon?

Posted by Idle Sparks at 04:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I am so Buddhist right now. I realise that my life is trips in the train with strangers, sitting at a desk and a series of meaningless steps, decisions, habits. I am completely insignificant other than being just another ant working for a dying queen. It is this ridiculous work, such stupid work, which makes me a grain of sand.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 04:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The woman in blue is the very essence of shy. Indeterminate age, clothes belie the fact that she could easily look early 40’s with the right wardrobe. She is very English, bob cut frames the face, straw hat resplendent with brown bow. A grandma trolley if you please! She sits uneasily amongst the brickies, wraps the straps of her handbag tightly around her thin wrists. Thinks twice and moves the strap to her shoulder. She is a thinker, a feeler. Curious, she casts glances at people with sharp eyes veiled in the shadow of her hat. She reads the paper but I know she is listening intently to the brickies conversation. Not because they are that interesting, rather it has become a habit of hers. I begin to wonder where she has been and where she lives. I dont see her gainfully employed. This is trivial. Instead i place her as is, into an entirely alien setting. I place her on a long dirt road. The air is slightly humid and there is a slight drizzle. She is not alone. Indeed she has become the object of much attention. Given i have just dropped her there with no warning, out of the air.... POP. There are dwarves in coaches, sprites on ponies, what look like badgers with back packs. Also a small group of friendly trolls on their way to a christening stop to stare. They have all halted their various comings and goings, for this sudden event is vastly more interesting than anything they had planned for the day. The lady remains as she is, clutching her handbag tightly with one hand, and holding on to her grannies trolley for dear life. A gust of wind rushes past the array of travellers and blows the hat from the woman’s head. One of the sprites lets out a giggle and quickly places both tiny hands over her mouth. One of the dwarves clears his throat, his deep voice rumbles making a sound like a runaway beer barrel down a steep hill. "And might i be askin' yer name there madame?" The lady looks wide eyed first at the dwarf, then to the hat which appears to have landed on the surprised head of a particularly large and hairy troll. She looks from face to face, her eye twitches slightly as her English stoutness is tested like never before. For the briefest of times and an eternity her mind is thrown this way and that. Her brain considers what information the eyes have delivered and then like a good human brain should, ignores the facts presented and chooses to place a very tall and thick mental brick wall in between her and the crowd. Having removed all external stimuli she is left again in the comfort of her own mind. She casts a steely glare at the dwarf and responds "I'll beg you to mind your own business Sir, good day to you." She then walks up to the hairy troll, snatches the hat from his head and walks off down the dirt road without once looking back.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 04:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Some swaying music softening the harsh undertones of moon moods. Gravity and water are the masters of the body. Organs swirl in my head, I practice, then I create, then I practice again. Glasses askew suit the head they sit on. Missing objects take first row in my thoughts. Childish notes and scribbles, inky memories on my desk again after all this time. My microphone, my pad, an empty glass, soon fix that. My absence from this chair is unimportant, years could pass between words, like old friends turned acquaintances and who would be the wiser? I drop friends like a tree drops its fruit. Round in circles goes the day turned week, round in circles goes my intentions of good, rotten to the core go my expectations. I tangle my thoughts into webs and fall back in them twisting, I am the spider and the fly, my own undoing.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I have hate
You have brought it on me
The last seconds tick on
And my thoughts of new
Tread carefully
I shall break a rock and carry all the
Pieces to a precipice where I will throw
Them over to watch them fall
I have not let them go

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I joined the dark one summers night
A cool wind and the fading light
My body stripped of all its might
My two hands clasped but shaking
I took a step I was met by those
Who cloaked me and coaxed my sweet repose
Dispirited and vile to touch
They said of all those that lived
A man it was of rock and dirt
Till I found there lying my living corpse
Tamed and beaten of all good thoughts
So I left it there and thought upon
The light which appeared to me
I spoke its praises and let it be

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Certain situations caused irreparable implications
In the segregated sections of my mind
A white man and a black man and a knife
Your such a Jolly Roger got a briefcase full of jongleurs
Singing songs and building castles in the sky
Im sitting on an emerald mountain
The wind coincides with the thoughts that escape me
The vision I see takes its form and forsakes me
Leaving behind the more fragile exterior
It fends for itself amongst the hysteria
And I, for it is me in the clouds
Am headed for warmer climes
Better times
And sweet sunshine
The light that is the future
And the heart that is true.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Tell me something I want to hear
Go on tell me im sexy
Tell me im smarter than anyone
Give me praise, give me your soul
Say you cant live without me
Like you’d rather die than leave me
Tell me you’ll do anything for me
But I don’t have to tell you nothing.
Tell me im brave you need me to save you
Tell all your friends all the things that I did to you
Give me your money your time and your life
But I don’t have to give you nothing
If I did half of what I want to do to you
You wouldn’t know what hit you
But you’d know that it was me who did it to you
Could have done it but I didn’t.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Swing with my moods
Roll with my tides
Soothe my sores
Fight my wars
Suffer with me
Listen to me
Level with me
Take my heat
Dance to my beat
Do what I mention
Take my indegestion
Understand my ignorence
Be more than my preference
Keep me secure
Make me demure
Suffer my redemption
Take my indegestion

Stomach burns me
But its nice to be happy

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

We all have
The desire to to strive
And better ourselves everyday
But the demons inside you
Are the same that divert you
When things are going you way
So look at me now
Im the same as before
Confusion is clouding my mind
Still I have a hold on you
You just do what I say
Your thoughts of me cause you dismay
Don’t judge me
Don’t annoy me
Ive layers of sin but
Theyre conditioned to quietly hide
My hate is immense
Don’t deny evidence
Or my demons are coming for you

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Do you live in fear
Did your bad dream call your name
I’ve got plenty here to spare
Take your pick they’re all the same
My second thought outweighed my first
My third is badly unrehearsed
Perhaps I should have listened to the question
You recall I am in pain
My lips are moving but im not saying
The truth inside im not conveying
Replace it with my demons raving
I’m locked inside my childish mind
Thoughts are poisoned they strike me blind
Let them out so I may find
The fun that had amused me
And those arms that once embraced me

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Bored about a lack of substance
Do you hear the people talking
Do you hear the others snoring
Take heed my friends the teachers warning

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Go on give me your love
Give me your smiles and havens to rest in
Give me your meadows I long to be blessed in
Tell me your latest obsession, depression
Im looking into why I never leave
Never even go outside to see
The meadows and havens I wished you to be

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

God pleases me when its not a man
Id much rather no god at all
God is much more than a part of your clan
More the love that exists in us all
Gods not a thing, nor a vision of grace
And seeing that god is a terrible waste
Ive seen your vision and it’s a disgrace
Id advise you to look a bit further
I see a great energy, linked to us all
Planes of tranquility, peace and purity
A knowledge of all that has been and will be
That is the god I would like you to see

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Im a surf
With a rolling tide
Im a pimp
And a pirate
Im the thoughts
That you despise
Im the tic
Under your skin

Memories keep on shining through
I want you to be mine
Softly im caressing you
Manipulating your mind

Im a friend
With a friendly smile
Im a man
Without pride
Im a mission
With a manly smile
Im just dying
To reply

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Im giving thought to your cause
By delaying the outcome
My pen the pendulum
Swinging in an arc
Between action and passivity

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

You miss her
More than words can say
You need her
More than yesterday
In the summer
Or in springtime
Youll be with her
In the garden
In the summer sun

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

My little daydream
Stays with me through the night
My little daydream
Keeps me up through the night
You are the one thing
That makes me feel right

My little daydream
Keeps the hope in my day
A simple love theme
Filled with words I couldn’t say
It is the one thing
My little daydream

You with the gentle heart
You with the loyal heart
You with the joy
You with the light
You with the love in your heart

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

A forest for the trees
A name for you and me
A blindness you can see
That’s all you gotta be
Im walking down a road I have never been
More than that I say what is never seen
I feel the earth beneath my feet
A most peculiar city treat
Must be all the country air I breathed
Ohh verily im mauled
Some sanctity ive fallen
My sanity marooned
With certainty im doomed
Ill miss you for some months
But I only feel the bumps
To remember you
I surrender you
To your own, personal hell

Loneliness is isolation
Loneliness is desolation
The truth is never kind
So I suggest you find
A precipice
To quietly sit and think in.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Give me your poison arrow
Give me a reason to live.
Woman I cant forget you
You could have gone, you kept my soul instead.
And baby you cried, I shouldn’t have lied

Give me your pain and sorrow
It should be mine to bear
You twisted in my poison shell
But you were strong and you were there
Could you ever compare

Midnight on your own
Midnight all alone

Give me your latest idea
Tell it to all our friends
Did you ever notice
Id come along, but was never there
I could have lied

Midnight together will come again someday
Its all im living on
So I cry and hope to be around again
Could you ever compare

You know that its time to go now
As if you didn’t know
You are gone from me now
I wish you luck and the love we shared
Its never goodbye

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Happy, feeling volatile
Remember when to smile
And keep it for awhile
If heaven is on high
If heaven lives on high
When will we come out from its shadow
To feel the warmth and see our faces glow.

Baby see, your fading eyes
Feel my lips, their paralysed
You go away, and hope to see
Another you, another me

Friends will go out but where will you go
They wont come back but you I don’t know

You know my way but I just cant say
All the history is there and the moments we shared
Go away going back
Do I walk the same track
Will you know me by then
Would I love you again
Im alone im afraid
Am I playing on stage
Am I whole am I real
Do I love do I feel
Do I care do I hate
Will I still look a state
All I know is here an now
And I love you and anyhow
Whos to say.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

While living in London i started noticing Buddha everywhere. It turned into more than a coincidence as far as im concerned. Magazines, looking out a train window, driving this guy to his college – there’d be statues, posters, the name – it was ridiculous. Came to the point id be seeing him more than three times a day. What’s with that? If I had a preference I think I would have preferred Ganesha. It gets to a point when the brain starts telling the eyes to go looking out for it on all levels. I remember one day back in Melbourne id read about this band in the US called Beachwood Sparks and how they were this little unknown band making waves over there. I look on the net but there’s hardly anything about them. I figure I won’t be seeing anything back here. I called around and nobody had heard of them. That afternoon I got to my favourite CD second hand store and spend a good hour pouring through the racks, as usual moving non-alphabetically as I remember bands im on the lookout for. I gotta organise my wish list better than this. Anyway I find nothing interesting until one the way out I glance upon and old Johnny Cash album so I figure ill go have a listen see if it’s worth buying. 18 bucks is usually above my limit. The show has a CD player up front so you can listen to whatever you want. You give them the case and they go get the disk and hand both back to you. The guys know me well enough to not try explaining how to find the buttons like they do with the greenhorns. I put the CD in and start flicking through the tracks until something sparks an interest. While I listen to a particularly good track my eyes wander to the usual tall pile of unprocessed CD’s on the desk that the druggies have been bringing in to sell for smack. Now here’s the point of all this, the smoking gun. As soon as my eyes move from the cd player to the pile of CD's, I fix onto one right In the middle of the pile and guess what? It’s the damn band was reading about that very day, glinting at me as if to say “bout time buddy”. Best I can figure, my brain has already seen it as my eyes were in vicinity of the pile. Subconsciously I had seen it minutes ago, my brain just needed some way to get me to look right at it. Maybe it helped focus straight there, im not sure. Either way its fricken amazing how little of our brains we must use. A damn shame considering the shit that goes on out there.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Here we go again. Another shipwreck of a life has to get washed up in my carriage, demanding both attention and money. All the wackos gotta walk up and down the carriages, moving their greedy eyes from left to right seeking out some gullible soul to harass. The entire carriage is brimming with restrained anger. Despite the enforced intimacy of a train we still struggle to maintain privacy even as our personal space is being violated. What is it about these cretins that give them immunity to these socially acceptable foibles? What a journey it must be to reach the moment where held eye contact with a stranger as you strip them before the other unknowns is as easy as hugging a strangers leg as a child. I fear to make this comparison, I call these maladjusted people anti-innocence. They behave as a child and yet the lived beyond the age where ignorance is acceptable. They place aside important elements of themselves to get to this point, whereas a child will always be adding to their knowledge base. He gets nothing from the lady two down from my position and moves on. The lady beside me has her head buried in a crappy late edition paper you get for free at the station, and trust me, nothing in it can be merited for the intensity for which she is currently reading it. The guy moves up and plants himself directly in front of her; he stumbles sideways as the train veers a bend. He stables himself with an unwarranted amount of care considering the level of movement was minimal and then snap - there go the eyes, locked onto I’m guessing the woman’s eyebrows due to her head having now bowed inches from the paper below her. “Can you spare a couple of coins Miss, anything will do”. This is of course exactly the same thing he has said repeatedly to half the carriage, that is when he is allowed to complete the sentence which he repeats so fricken slowly. That’s what shits me the most I think. The lady quickly looks up from the paper , a quick flash of anger passes her eyes then she shakes her head once, mouthing the words no and goes back to the paper to finish whatever fascinating article had her so enthralled.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Rather than expecting it of myself I will talk about the time I read the journal of some writer in which from the first sentence I knew it was special. There is nothing quite like the first sentence to a story. It is like a novel in itself. I loved “Call me Ishmael” and yet I could not finish the damn book. Michael Marshall Smith quoted Tori Amos at the start of his book and he had me before he had written a word of his own. These associations give us a sense of the authors intentions, an insight into where you are likely to be taken. Anyone who likes Tori enough to quote her has got my full attention. So anyway, this guy was just writing his journal for what appeared to be practice for the real thing. Im not even sure if he has written anything. But from the first sentence of that journal, I felt that this guy was going to teach me something.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I was driving home from work one evening, tired from two weeks of long shifts when something occurred to me - any moment now I could crash and die. My immediate reaction was that each moment that passes this thought is a bonus. Then the second thought was that if I though about dying, would I be immune to it. I realise this is bullshit, so I move on to a thought which comes to me now and then, and that is I am living on borrowed time. I have this feeling sometimes, that there has been an accident upstairs and I have been misplaced somehow. I don’t consider this that often, im not suffering a mental illness, nor do I have a death wish.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The consequences of being forgetful. I have inherited that form a friends family. Spent so much time over there it was bound to rub off. There is a mind state that you go in where all matters not pleasurable are entirely ignored. You have special reminders software and mobiles to help you remember but it doesn’t help if you forget them when you go out.

There is a sister affliction to this. Mind stubbornness, for example – you need to remove a thick limb from a tree that is getting in the way, depending on where you are in relation to the various implements you can use will determine the choice. I was in my example right near the rusty saw and far away from the chainsaw so I chose old rusty. Took me 20 minutes of pain, sweat, screaming, scratching to lop the son of a bitch off. If I went and got the chainsaw it would have taken all up 6 minutes tops. But my head just goes dead and I continue sawing like a moron. Denying myself any logical thought time to assess. I blame my friend on that as well.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Woman with backpack got some bad news today. The way she stares out that window, the way she stands even though there are plenty of seats available. Everything about this woman is directed inside. She hardly moves, jaw is clenched, eyes fixed on a moving target. Sad, worried, still, silent. A mobile phone rings and its hers. She takes it out of her bag and looks at the display, pauses before answering. The conversation from this end sounds like this –
“Hello,
yeah,
uh huh,
yeah,
OK,
I will,
you too”

She flips the phone closed and places it back in her bag. Once again she stares outside and I begin to wonder if the last minute ever took place. The train horn sounds and I’m shaken suddenly from my thoughts. I look at the station name and realise that bad news woman has left the train four stops back. I put my headphones on and press play. Damn, I’m tired today, I gotta take a holiday.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 09:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I pause to reflect on the awakening moods in me since becoming involved in more than the sum of my parts. I listen to an English accent, the gorgeous kind that is sincere and lilting, poised and playful. A giggle four hundred years in the making. It makes me pause from the revelry even before I begin. Perhaps that’s for the better; I had no insight worth exploring. The people travelling with me are a varied bunch, old, young, sane and not so. The analogy of the mixed nut is an apt one in describing this lot. You know there will always be a few nuts in the mix that are never touched, the unpopular ones. Do you think as I look about this carriage that an unwelcome nut presides here? Perhaps they are all wedged in the back half while us upper enders enjoy our own us-ness, perhaps we are the cashews? So far today I have seen the twisted ages faces haphazardly placed on the women’s heads. Two women who I am interested to note that have lean young bodies. Most notable and surely worthy professional scrutiny is the fact that both women have in attachment to their person, a younger man. The English lilter seems nonplussed to this as the couple leaves the train, lost instead in the music of another country attempting to 'cool' itself with the instruments of yet another country. So here we are. English lilter, in Australia, listens to American singer sampling an Indian instrument - impressive. Ah and yet I chance upon the sound of some music from the mother country as the train stops. Is this the space of revelry and comfort? The link to home she craves? She leaves now, the sound removed is replaced by voices in the drivers carriage. Voices raised where there was silence a minute ago. There is a door slammed shut and I turn to see the woman’s voice now inside a large body. The train moves on. I inhabit the front half of the carriage alone but for the driver who gives lifts. Good-byes are often given with raise voices as if to signify what? A sense of urgency? Where did the habit originate? What culture said their good-byes at a distance that now makes it a part of our genetic coding, like our discomfort at the sound of a nail down a chalkboard traces back to similar sounds in the hungry cry of a feared beast long since extinct.

The door to the driver is very secure, more so than an aircraft entrance to the cockpit. Strange considering the destination of a hijacked train is surely not going to be a surprise. A detour to the nearest tall building is highly improbable. I have digressed so far here from my initial point that I fear I will never find my way back again.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 09:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I cannot get this song out of my head. Im going to learn it and annoy people for years to come -:

Lady when you came to me
I was feeling blue
Blue just like your hair you see
Blue just like the moon
But only when the moon is blue
And not when it is cream
And now that you are here with me
I am in a dream. (oh yeah Marge, your dreams can come true)

Lady when you go away
I feel like i could die
Not like die like your hair is died
But die like Lady Di
And not like Di like her name is Di
But die like when she died

Lady just like Lady Di
Your my princess tonight
But dont die, dont die Marge.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 10:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Yes, I am. Thank's for asking Paul.

I must admit i believed the brilliant 'Graceland' was Simon's last gasp. Subsequent releases have left me a bit cold. His new album however comes across on first listen as inspired stuff. The bizarre combination of Simon and Brian Eno has come up with the goods. Is this his attempt to match the resurging careers of Cash and Diamond thanks to the genius of Rick Ruben? Obviously the production styles of the two are not easy to compare, however the desire of the three artists to spring clean their careers can certainly be said to have some similarity here. Simon's songs here could easily have fit into previous albums, so the focus comes squarely back on Eno's input. Have a listen and see which of the two comes out on top of the kudos cake.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 02:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

My brush (albeit small, maybe a toothbrush) with fame (albeit small, maybe the series Fame not the movie Fame) as my email to Adro is answered.

[E-mail to Adro]

Adro, it’s the morning after and I still cannot believe you did it. My wife and I were so happy for you, and despite not personally knowing you, we were proud of your transformation inside and out. Change seems to be something us humans rebel against don’t you think. It can take something major to give us that push. For you that major thing was a positive experience on a TV show. For others it could be a heart attack or cancer or a partners death etc. When I read that you were going to be setting up these weight-loss centres I thought back to this idea of change. I hope you can find a way to give those people an experience that will be the push for them to continue as well. I don’t think the Jenny Craig’s out there have been successful with this. We all need a foot up the backside once in a while, but how to do this en-masse? You can’t be everywhere at once. So what occurred to me was that you could be using the Biggest Loser format for your centres, by filming them when they join, having them make a video diary, have them go up on a stage (I like to think that despite the element of shame, this is a big defining moment for you guys and defining moments are what we remember) and be rewarded for being the biggest loser of the month etc. Then to go back and view their footage to see how they are progressing.

Dang im rabbiting on here, congratulations to you and you wife on the baby news, wow what a year! All the best, IdleSparks.

[e-mail from Adro]
hey IdleSparks
thanks for the idea sorry for the delay i have thought and decided on using most formats used on the show except the filming still just thought photos but i think that is a brilliant idea phsycologically as well.
thanks heaps for that.
keep in touch and thanks for your support
adro

http://free-online-health.com/forums/default.aspx

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keep in touch? Oh gosh i feel like one of those people who line up and wait for a spot on red carpet events.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 02:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Emin F#

I never wanted to be a tortured artist

Emin

A suicidal troubadour

A

I just wanna be me

F#

If I sing then for what cause

Bmin

If it’s a song then what went wrong

Emin Gbar bottom 3 with high G

To be an artist I gotta get mindless to become mindful

I played you the day after you went astray

Your heart was in pain so you took it away

No pictures on the news, no notes to explain

You left this good world with no reason no blame.

Emin F#

But I never wanted to be a tortured artist

Emin

A suicidal anything

A

I just wanna be me

F#

If I sing alone

Bmin

If im never heard

Emin Gbar bottom 3 with high G

Id rather be artless, than have to get mindless to become mindful

Well they tell me you suffered, that you were in pain

Tell me, when were you in a warzone again?

What were your beliefs, what was your war

What were the things that you fought and died for

Emin F#

I never wanted to be a famous artist

Emin

Ive seen what it has done to you

A

And I wanna be free

F#

If you play alone

Bmin

If your never known

Emin

Id rather be alive than a chemical scribe

To become something

Bmin Emin D Asus

Id rather write shit with my eyes open wide

F#min F#maj G Gmin Asus Id rather get it so so wrong, than to take that to get it right……………break

Bmin Emin D Asus

Id rather write shit with my eyes open wide

F#min F#maj G Gmin Asus D

Id rather get my whole life wrong, than to take that to get it right

Posted by Idle Sparks at 02:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Keep your distance from this smile-

There’s something wrong and the crack gets wider

This lie was meant to convert you

This lie was there to replace all virtue

Keep singing sinners of virtue

You treat elation like its….

a, matter of urgency

And so it goes, there is something you should know

Look in my eyes, my eyes, open wide, and come inside

You see I found a new answer

It left an imprint upon my memory

I never claimed to be perfect

I never claimed to be….

a, man of conviction

And so it goes, there is something you should know

Look in my eyes, my eyes, open wide, and come inside

Sanity serenade sanity serenade

Posted by Idle Sparks at 02:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

How is your raging sea

How is your burgeoning

It stretches right into the past

Like images through glass

Where is your spirit now

Where is your grace and how

Can it all be born of will

Cause the image has gone still

When fears abound

Don’t be afraid

Its never too late

Work it out

Sort it out

Breathe breathe breathe

Posted by Idle Sparks at 02:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Your forced to fight it

You never learned to

Not make the same mistake

You cant control it

You cant ignore it

It happens every day

Its born inside us all

It burns inside us all

And you cant escape

Feel me, hold me hold me please+*

D on 4th fret, run down to 1st fret, back to D then bass run from C# open Dstring, B open D string then bottom two notes of G maj. Rubdown, back to D.

D inv G Gsus E G Gsus d e f# d e f#

Without hope, without her, your born with nothing, you end with nothing without love

Posted by Idle Sparks at 02:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I told you the things that I did, the things that I said
Was just God working through me
You said
God is not working through us,
we are working for ourselves
In honour of what we contain.

Its hard to imagine being truly alone
We play our role as a part of the whole
Yet sometimes the absence of feeling
Is like a blindfold for the soul.

I don’t want to let you down
But im a burden for you, I know
I don’t want to let you down
But I don’t wanna let you go
I bought this novel about nothing really
Just a guy at a sawmill with his wife
I couldn’t put it down
But I didn’t want it to end
I just want to erase the last week
And pick it back up again

Posted by Idle Sparks at 02:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Look inside this troubled man

Look down deep

Deep as you can

Mmm

Deep within the shadowed heart

Can you feel his soul depart

Mmmm

Break

He don’t wanna understand

He don’t wanna play lifes hand

He cut himself despite the pain

And now hes gone, hes whole again

Look inside this troubled man

Look down deep

Deep as you can

Mmm

Break

End with E C E C

Harmonica solo in Emin

Posted by Idle Sparks at 02:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This was the moment he had been waiting for. Just the thought of mindilling with her was enough to permoot his pishmol into a frenzy. Lovingly he placed his beshmoily on her meshmuggle. Whispering sweet patoonts into her delicate langtong. The simple act of vormunting was enough to grallow her portmadillo and emit loud hamphoompahimps. Finally in an act of pure fandpaspicup, their twirling hoistcuttles gave one last ratoit before falling exhausted on their hampistic grillderstop.

Dirty buggers!

Posted by Idle Sparks at 01:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I stand here alone in the middle of the room letting myself be directed unconsciously by my brain as I sway and think, sway and think………."I could have been…………………..one of these things first". People like Keroac always described events that could only belong to one person, and while I find myself being able to immerse myself into the 'flavours' of the event as an outsider to the tale, I find it hard to personally design any of these moments myself. Instead I am inexorably led to other characters less – convivial. I am led therefore to Drake, Dickens, Blake and Wilson. You might find yourself, alone, in your room. Or at a party, with people you’ve never known. Oh God those lyrics, those lyrics, they just get me. I would play this part of the song ‘Soul kinda feelin’ over and over with autistic like devotion at the age of 13. Much like I did at 6 with ‘In My Room’. Does this explain why I spent so much time in my own bedroom or did the songs aptly reflect why I spent so much time in my bedroom. I still cant quite work out whether the song is the chicken or the egg.

Posted by Idle Sparks at 01:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Blood pulses in my brain
and with it comes pain.

She, if it is a she, comes with a message of warning as she always does. If it be my brain that must heed this warning then we are at a stand still lady pain. For with each pulse of blood it carries with it your burning mark. And I can think of nothing else but this. How am I to be when you bring you army with you? What secret skills lay dormant within me to make defense of you. Where lay hidden my armies and what is their weapon? I am a general who is blind to my enemy AND my ally. First I must find my arms to remove the blindfold, only then will I see you lady pain, then I must find my legs, only then can I search for my ally. You seem to have the advantage lady, in surplus. Yet for now you are only one. That, I can deal with!

Posted by Idle Sparks at 01:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I totally believe this. I think Snape and he were fully aware and had prepared for this final confrontation. I am not the only one. Check this site if you have any interest in Potterdom. BTW just for the record i believe Harry is not the one prophesised. I will let you work it out.

http://www.dumbledoreisnotdead.com/

Posted by Idle Sparks at 01:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Some twit was carrying on with that nonsense of queue jumping, it really got my goat. This is another of the posts that i really dont want to lose, i felt i had a point. I have this theory that you can view just about all situations as micro and macro. Most importantly i believe that by taking something related to an individual for example, can then be applied to a community, or all people.

[your blogministrator]
I would first reconsider the use of the term "refugee problem", it implies guilt, similar wording to people referring to the "black problem" in the past. It is not a problem, it is a fact of life, it is a common thread throughout history, do you think this is a new thing to happen, read your history books, read the Bible! It is the responsibility of all humans to ensure that we are all treated with respect and given basic rights, the same rights we expect without thought in this country. You speak of bigger issues however I am not interested in that in any way, what matters to me is that if these people make it here through whatever means because their basic human rights are not being met, it is up to us as humans to look out for them, to give them respect and to ensure they have a future no matter what that is. It is not enough to simply argue about the bigger issues for years, leaving these people in limbo, do you understand? This will never go away, so it is important for each generation to do what it can, as it is in these situations that we are judged as people, does that make sense? Get over this ridiculous argument of trying to catch us out because we dont know how to solve something that has been occuring since the dawn of mankind, thats simply foolish. Taken back to the human experience, we can then see that not only are they effected as people suffering a terrible wrong albeit not a new one, we as a country will also suffer as a collective, our soul will be tarnished. I respect the individual Jane as im sure you do, take that to a larger scale and understand that as a country, then as humans, we would hope that this simple respect will not disappear. http://www.safecom.org.au/refugees.htm

Posted by Idle Sparks at 01:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This discussion got quite heated. It drove me batty hearing the comments made in there from your average person. People so readily accept behaviours because it was acceptable to their parent or community. I talk a lot about macro and micro as mentioned previously. Most people would agree that we are here to learn and to grow as individuals, so why do people find the jump to growing as a race so damn difficult to digest?

[Your blogerator]
As far as im concerned the fact that so many people in here have been smacked and think its ok shows us that average, well behaved kids are being spanked for no other reason than its a quick fix for the parent. The mantra of society is "i haven’t got time for this". Its is a bad reflection on they way we think as a people, we often look for the easy route and this just happens to be another example. I keep bringing up the concept of thinking beyond the square, because big things are just a collection of small things. For example a world war starts with one shot, one ill advised word. Therefore the fact that we spank our children so readily reflects in part who we are as a people. My hope is that this cycle will eventually end and the need for any kind of violence is the very last resort when no other options are available. A child learns that causing pain can be an effective means to get what you want but there is a line, the child grows up and discovers the line has started to fade- does that sound eerily like the world you are now living in?

Posted by Idle Sparks at 01:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Some guy was carrying on about whether homosexuality was some kind of genetic abnormality. It (again) drove me nuts. And by the way the guy who posted that was indeed part owner of Harvey Norman, so i was right on the money. I lost a friend who used to join in the laughing over gay jokes and was gay himself. He ended up committing suicide because he did not think his friends would accept him.

[Your blogerator]
You know i would bet my left nut that the originator of this thread is white middle/upper class. Only these people would allocate/waste their time and brain resources on such a pointlessly intellectual thread. There has been some postings lately of a scientific nature that smack of one-upmanship and a desperate need to be acknowledged. This is not the way to discuss a topic that effects alot of people in some fairly fu*#en serious ways people. If you want to discuss scientific theories in a non-emotional way which is fine, take it to a seperate thread, ask the moderator to set it up. Dont sit there on your high horse saying its getting the subject out in the open or helping us to understand anything, nobody is learning anything from this thread and there are not enough people in here with scientific knowledge to contribute so QUIT it. ALL it does in these forums is make people feel stupid and worthless. Im a 32 year old man and reading this feel inadequate to be able to contribute because i dont have a science background, imagine how the younger ones feel. And just imagine how those in here who may be currently going through a very very emotionally confusing time as they explore their sexuality and what it means. On one side you have people who think being gay is wrong, then you have people like yourself wanting to theorise on the genetics of being gay. This is possibly someones life you are discussing in here so STOP IT. Go get your intellectual kicks elsewhere.Seing this thread is here now, maybe we can turn this into a positive for people who may be going through this at the moment, wondering if they are gay and what it will mean to them. Does anyone have some numbers, websites that help people through these times? This is all i could find -http://www.reachout.com.au/default.asp?ti=304

Posted by Idle Sparks at 12:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)