Test Specimen

A poem by Sylvia Plath

The Arrival of the Bee Box

I ordered this, clean wood box
Square as a chair and almost too heavy to lift.
I would say it was the coffin of a midget
Or a square baby
Were there not such a din in it.

The box is locked, it is dangerous.
I have to live with it overnight
And I can't keep away from it.
There are no windows, so I can't see what is in there.
There is only a little grid, no exit.

I put my eye to the grid.
It is dark, dark,
With the swarmy feeling of African hands
Minute and shrunk for export,
Black on black, angrily clambering.

How can I let them out?
It is the noise that appalls me most of all,
The unintelligible syllables.
It is like a Roman mob,
Small, taken one by one, but my god, together!

I lay my ear to furious Latin.
I am not a Caesar.
I have simply ordered a box of maniacs.
They can be sent back.
They can die, I need feed them nothing, I am the owner.

I wonder how hungry they are.
I wonder if they would forget me
If I just undid the locks and stood back and turned into a tree.
There is the laburnum, its blond colonnades,
And the petticoats of the cherry.

They might ignore me immediately
In my moon suit and funeral veil.
I am no source of honey
So why should they turn on me?
Tomorrow I will be sweet God, I will set them free.

The box is only temporary.

I’m in a rut and I can’t seem to find my groove.
It’s annoying and I don’t know why I’m in a rut. Life is good…

I’m looking for something more though… Not in a material sense… just *something* I don’t know what it is though… Maybe passion… I lost my passion somewhere along the way.

Blah
you’re just too used to my honey, now

I’m always amused when Windows breaks… but I am even more amused when it breaks in a very public place.

Today while visiting a shopping centre as a favour for my mother (why the hell would I go to the shopping centre 7 days before Christmas?!) I came across an electronic billboard. This is not an unusual thing, these places are full of them trying to sell all sorts of shit.. but what I liked about this particular billboard is that it had blue screened….

They can’t even project a simple image properly.

Small things for small minds I suppose.

So, my neighbours are horrendous. White Trash. Bogan… Hideous to look at. And they yell alot. And they have annoying dog. That does not shut up. It’s also probably mistreated/never played with/walked/paid attention to.

Today they have been particularly annoying. I got home from a fairly intense week at work to hear dumber and dumber and their two sperm mishaps screaming at each other.. So I played Blood Duster at them… Giving Stiff to the Stiff and Metalasfuck seemed to shut them up. Str8outtanorthcote is a great album

this just feels like spinning plates

I’ve been sick with something that makes me sound like a young boy whose voice is breaking and a phone sex operator for the last 6 days. I have huge, gross, painful tonsils, hideous ear aches and sinusitis. I’m on my second round of anti-biotics, the first round, obviously did nothing.. The second round… is the most intensely strong fucked up medication I’ve ever been on. There are all these rules about when I take them what I have to do once I’ve taken them.. etc etc.. anyway.. aside from all of that I haven’t been to work in nearly a week.

I spoke to my boss today and it seems like, in 2.5 working days (thanks to Easter thats all I’ve had to take off) that my entire workplace has been turned onto its head. 2 resignations and no doubt, a fair amount of drama. Hopefully I’ll be back at work tomorrow, my main aim is getting well enough to go to the gym.

I’ve spent the last few months trying to break through the barrier. I’ve been slamming my head against a wall waiting for someone else to catch on and come to the party. I coordinate a few different programs… One of which I feel particularly passionate about… It’s mine, and I’ve worked my arse off to get it working, to get it to a place I’m happy with… and today, I finally broke through the pain barrier. After 3 months worth of blood, sweat and a few tears I actually managed to achieve something.

This program is not one of my “high profile” programs. It doesn’t get notoriety in the papers, I don’t have notable people wanting to get in on the action – giving me money to keep it going, or providing media photo ops *gag*… It’s somethings small, low-key but has a huge impact on some people…  I’m proud of it, and I care about it, and people involved in it are important to me.

When people ask me what I do, their eyes tend to glaze over and they seem to think I’ve got shit for brains. Apparently making money and contributing to extending someone elses wealth is all that matters… Sometimes Mostly, the pay is disheartening, but life has to amount to more than your pay packet. I feel sorry for all the passionless fucks who go to work every day just for money.. there has to be a bit more to life than that… its the time you spend away from those you care about. I spend more waking hours with my mates at work than I do with my fiance… I have to enjoy what I do to make that sort of commitment… Or at least know that it will lead taking me somewhere I want to be

As I said to someone this evening. I’d sooner be ethically poor than an unethically wealthy.