The Opera
This does make me sound painfully out of touch, but I went to see the opera for the first time recently. It was dance, really. The most impressive use of the human body yet, narrowly edging out sex. Not that I’ve had any, but I haven’t backflipped through people’s arms either. My only criticism is that the dance and song almost seemed separate. I mean, doing a handstand across two people’s heads is very impressive and all, but what’s it got to do with a funeral? If I did that at mine, people would be very shocked. Also, there are much cheaper ways to be yelled at in Italian.
A short story borne of
The dreams came again. Those dreams. This time was different. He spoke. I wish I hadn’t heard. Voices took refuge in my mind from the black void of sleep. They whisper and scream, gossip and debate. They are incessant. One must have uttered a command, or implanted some seed of a thought. It began as an unfulfilled craving, like an itch I can’t scratch. It festered and grew into a strange drive or will. The feeling was altogether alien, but not unwelcome. Bidden by an unknowable whim, I began to write, and create. Reams of paper and floods of ink carpeted the tenement. Passionate and wild scrawls adorned all the walls. I revelled in the sweet relief.
It was almost like a dreamless sleep, a pleasure I had long since forgotten. Time became no object as I toiled at my art, now free to bask in its glory. It was long since I had run out of ink. Emaciated arms caked in drying blood concealing innumerable wounds told me this. The sun had set, but I knew not of which day. Under bright moonlight I laughed in the sheer glee wrought upon me. I flew to join the moon upon the open field on the hill, far from the low houses on the street, freed from the cloying airs of the apartment. The few stars left glimmering flickered out. The night was black. The moon was white. Seas of darkness swayed and shifted above, with the gentleness of the waves by the beach. This warbling and warping of the skies grew in magnitude, becoming a cosmic tempest. Unable to withstand it any longer, they tore asunder, and I saw Him. I did not wake with a scream. I did not clap my hands over my ears and close my eyes. I laughed. I laughed a raucous, welcoming, screaming laugh.
More balls
It’s a problem (also, I can barely remember the ratios)
Ingredients:
2 cups frozen veg
2 tbsp PB
Enough hummus to coat the rest of the ingredients (~5 tbsp)
White vinegar, a splash
3 Weetbix
3 tbsp oats
Method:
Get a near hyperactive burst of energy and fear of not eating enough vegetables
Preheat oven to 180C
Line a cake tin with 1 tbsp oats and 1 crumbled Weetbix
Bring a pot to the boil, and overcook the vegetables, for about 5 minutes
Blend with PB and vinegar, and add hummus until the vegetables are coated
Add 2 tbsp of oats, and two crumbled Weetbix. Blend lightly
Spoon mix out of the mixing cylinder onto the cake tin, and roll into balls
Bake for 15 minutes, then for 5 on Grill and high heat
Enjoy. I know I did. The outside was crispy, and the inside was gooey and flavourful. Like a really weird falafel.
A childish pursuit
I like making my own colouring in pages, then completing them