abeldo.blog

abeldo.blog

Cartoons, poems, musings, more.

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  • Ouroboro Sighted

    Ouroboro Sighted
    What's that? Where are my glasses? 
    Too short sighted, staring at my arse hairs
    Very short sighted, ouroboro sighted
    Twisted turned, head up the tight end

    Spending too much time thinking bout the screws
    Not looking where I'm going, staring at my shoes.
    Feel the step in the walk and the sun in the shine
    Keep it going, keep it flowing, make your way down the line.

    Sometimes I get a little too focused on the doing and I forget about the meaning.

    I have an every day to-do list. I call it my dailies1:

    Write a poem
    Draw a cartoon
    Journal
    Practice a Language
    Practice music
    Take a picture
    Process photos
    Write 500 words
    Get 30min of sun
    Exercise

    Lately, I’ve been getting a little too focused on the doing and I’ve been forgetting about the feeling. The Essence. The Juice.

    Sometimes you forget how to see. It’s a wonder. You can go through a spurt of creativity and your eyes are so sharp, your senses are so in tune with reality, stories are everywhere to be harvested. Then, it all stops. All you can see is the blank page in front of you and feel the tacky plastic keyboard under your sweaty fingertips.

    You tell yourself, “This ain’t right. This level of production will not stand. This is unacceptable.” And you push yourself to do more. To maintain the routine. To stick to it. Put the hammer to the nail and bang it in. Bent. Broken. Blunt.

    Then, these practices become just another checklist item. Another chore. Put on your socks. Drink your water. Take the vitamin pill. Eat your steamed vegetables.

    To get back to it, though, all it takes is a bit of pause. Sit down. Listen to the sky. Let the days run past so you can look and see.

    1 Like a reference to movie production dailies. On the sets where they would use analogue film, directors would wait everything morning to receive the ‘dailies’, the developed footage from the day before.

    abelqvatdo

    April 9, 2025
    Uncategorized
    blog, life, mental-health, personal, writing
  • Authentic Life Experiences

    Authentic Life Experiences
    I'm a bit perverted in that I don’t like to pick my poison
    Not the things that'll kill me but the things I take joys in
    Life must happen naturally, organically, authentically
    To pick and choose is to lose a sense of serendipity
    A job, a house, a car, a babe; if it's an accident I'll be happy with
    What comes along a hole in the wall it don't matter if it's wretched
    Just give me chance and I'll be chuffed, don't matter what, for tune is 'nuff
    To sate the sight of this sapien, to expect is to destruct.

    I have learnt to prefer no plan when it comes to traveling. To plan is to manufacture an experience and that has always felt banal1 to me. Inauthentic. This preference came to me in 2016 after my first heartbreak2. I logged onto skyscanner. I set the search parameters for Sydney to Everywhere and I chose the cheapest available one way ticket.

    Guangzhou $200 AUD.

    However, at that time of booking the ticket, I still had not yet adopted the No Plan mantra. In the six months leading up to this trip I had watched countless documentaries on Chinese food and I had constructed a careful itinerary that would take me through the Famous Cuisines of China .

    I had made the plan to take a series of sleeper trains in a loop through central China and down the east coast. From Guangzhou to Hong Kong to Guilin to Changsha to Chongqing to Chengdu to Xi’an to Beijing to Jinan to Qingdao to Nanjing to Shanghai to Hangzhou to Fuzhou to Xiamen then back to Guangzhou.

    The trip was to last two months. I would get to experience the Chinese Lunar New Year. I had pre-booked the train tickets.

    I kept to this itinerary for two weeks before throwing the train tickets out the window. I made it to Chengdu, met some crazy Inner Mongolians and spent the next three months being a menace. They taught me how to speak Mandarin. We played music and sang in bars. We discovered the local underground trap scene. We made friends with other deviants and outcasts. We ate great food in unknown restaurants.  Every moment was a moment of pure discovery unadulterated by any Lonely Planet guide or superficial vlogger’s listicle3.

    It was a travel experience that I’ll never forget. And in a way it has spoiled me. I have tried to recreate the same sense of freedom and wonder. I have tried to understand why that trip was so magical. And I have never come close.

    There is a magic that comes from stumbling into an unknown restaurant and asking in the local language, “What’s tasty?” Then, to have them bring out something truly delicious that you’ve never tasted before.

    There is a magic that comes from making a friend outside of a bar. Them speaking broken English and you speaking broken Mandarin. Connecting over a love of music, and  then having them draw a map to an underground club with DJs that play music in a genre that you’ve never heard before. 

    There is a magic that comes from discovering foods not found on any top 10 list. Sure, I’ve tried the Sichuan Hotpot and the Shanghainese Soup Dumplings. But what of BBQ Sheep’s Brain? What of Yibinranmian? What of Rou Jia Mou with Donkey Meat? What of  Sichuan Pork Liver Noodles?

    Anyway, all of this is beside the point. I bring this up because I’ve realised I have a tendency to approach life in the same way. As conceited as it may be, I don’t want to walk through life like a tourist, accruing experiences as suggested by the Guide. I want things to come to me naturally. Am I perverted in desiring ‘authentic’ experiences even from my own life? I don’t like things that have been tailored to perfection.

    1 Pronounced anal, and equally as penetrative.

    2 Well, not quite. This relationship was slowly imploding. She had booked another trip without me, and in retaliation I booked my own trip. Then, after two years and six months together, it finally concluded with her ghosting me. But for the sake of this story, lets just say it was a break-up that inspired my devil-may-care attitude.

    3 Pronounced testicle, and equally as unattractive.

    abelqvatdo

    April 8, 2025
    Uncategorized
    adventure, china, travel, travel-tips, writing
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