ultraton

desde la inmensidad del espacio...

ultraton comes to watch over little uruguayan children. every week a national naming and shaming exercise is played out on TV, putting the fear of ultraton into you. ultraton knows if you haven't been a good girl. ultraton is watching. ultraton will come and take your dummy away. ultraton will not let you get away with dirty words. ultraton checks that you brush your teeth before bed. ultraton would not be pleased with your current behaviour. ultraton will come and take you away with his big robotic arms.

ul-tra-ton! ul-tra-ton! ul-tra-ton....!

battle against evil

brave women battle against evil. with wine and toenail varnish. it's a short story, really.

sira knew

c. and i used to spend our lives with sira. sira would come with us to the video-game parlour. she'd watch me playing tetris for hours. c. and i would play pairs. she could follow my madness for quite some time, but after a while she'd have to give up, and leave room for the brash, loud boys who would swarm around us and claim they could beat me. sira would sit there, bored and knowing. measuring up the boys, knowing they wouldn't do. c. would wander off to play wonder-boy. and i would play on, glasses right on the edge of my nose. rectangles, squares, l-shapes, s-shapes, t-shapes....coming down through my haze. like us, sira would always have partaken. days would start at c.'s place. bottle of whisky, milk, eggs, dulce de leche, orange juice, whatever. 11am was cocktail hour. concoctions would be mixed up, tried and tested. the haze would set in, and after rummaging around for mum and dad's last coins, we'd set off, the three of us, zig-zagging our way to oblivion. a threesome bonded by alcohol, tetris and summer days.

still

london is alive with sirens and parties. i'm in the eye of the storm. catching my breath. burning inside. soaking up the droplets of this welcome summer rain.

nyc calling

yup. oh, yup. stage two. let's see how this one runs.

achievements and small personal conquests

i flirted with the idea of giving up. i picked up the phone and nearly dialled. a number. any number. a possibly male number. maybe even a parental number. and i put down the phone. and picked it up. and then, emboldened by the rumble of trains under my feet, or the passing airplanes, or the still summer air, or perhaps by the blackbird who has been getting closer and closer, i put the phone down. gathered my strength, tore the bleeding washing machine out, pulled it apart, unblocked the drains, and got it to do a full wash. without as much as a moan.

i am invincible!

other days

monday too lunatic?
tuesday too combative?
wednesday too divine?
thursday too thunderous?
friday too beautiful?
saturday too excessive?

the quiet before the storm

oliver cries little budda cries from his tiny fluffy kingdom. i pick him up, talking nonsense. adding yet another language to his communication anxiety. vikings, ozzies and bandits dancing in his head. all the new and old things he's got to learn... but his head is on my shoulder now, and the air is not moving, and we calmly wait for the thunder to arrive.

an american evening

american-yanqui and i go for a few beers after work. hard work. hot work. summer holiday snaps, talk of languages and memory, moments of orange skies wind us down to a common understanding. once upon a time, two pregnant women waited for their time on opposite sides of the equator. who knows if they knew their children, born a week apart, would meet across their shared ocean. and one day, after a long hard hot day at work, share a few beers, holiday memories, and orange skies.

33.6° C

and i'm upset, and i'm hot, and i'm upset, and i'm hot, and i'm upset, and i'm hot, and i'm upset, and i'm hot, and i'm upset, and i'm hot, and i'm upset, and i'm hot, and i'm upset, and i'm hot, and i'm upset, and i'm hot, and i'm upset, and i'm hot. and upset. and hot.

containers

boxes containing old presents and cards (not from me) i don't want to read.
bags containing old letters and notes (from me) i don't want to read.
boxes and bags lying around, together, neglected, painful, disrespectful.

bruise

i found a ghost in my cellar. a couple of ghosts. quite a few actually. and i was trying to chase them down. and they wouldn't go away. and they made me fall. and hit my arm. and now there is a beautiful purple bruise to remind me of my heroic, yet fruitless deed. inside and out.

on the way to kilburn

the luminaire
Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

a girl plays with her boyfriend's eyelashes. dreaming of butterfly kisses. he pushes her hand away, self-sufficient. and then nuzzles up for more.

a group of firemen wait outside the station. ready for any emerging emergencies. strutting up and down for the girls to take them in.

a red boy sings in the red light. a girl whirls bicycles and spins stories on a stage.

and then we go back.

out and about with the prettiest girl in town, just in from new york

sashaying from bar to bar. talking religion and science. amusing ourselves with the boys. laughing, dancing, shining.

conversation fallout

little shiny sparkles flying off on all directions

your priorities

there are things that are important. things that are urgent. there are things that are urgent and important. there are things that are urgent but not important. there are things that are important but not urgent. and things that are neither. and then there is living life in a natural way, not as if you were project managing every second of it.

SMS Post

waterloo bridge, balmy eve, beautiful people, god damn it! i love this town...

cavewoman

wakes up at 7 in the morning. puts coffee on. considers shower or coffee. goes for shower. makes all the right motions. comes out of shower. has coffee. several hours later discovers no shampoo or soap went into the process. cavewoman learns an important lesson: coffee, then shower.

holborn pm

an hourglass figure straight out of a superhero magazine
a boyfriend holding on to a girlfriend's buttocks for dear life
a kiss, neverending, just outside the ticket machines
a skirt fluttering by from the back of a speeding motorcycle

despondent

scary/exciting times, and not a good luck kiss in sight

processing power

right this minute, there are thousands of computers all over the world, trying to find the next prime number. all that power and more would have to be diverted in order to answer all the questions that are being raised in my head this month.

pizza and ice-cream

so we didn't get to brutalise the watermelon. which i had been looking forward to. but we had pizza and ice-cream and water and conversation until you couldn't quite tell which of the two of us was the pregnant one.

serious

"behind the hard exterior...
"in spite of her gay laughter...
"her self-assured stance couldn't hide...
"an imperceptible twitch of the right eye on her otherwise happy face...
"she never took anything seriously, so it was a surprise that...

papercut

need i say more?

flawed logic

UN Secretary General Kofi Annan and UK Prime Minister Tony Blair have called for an international force to be sent to Lebanon to stop attacks on Israel.

Mr Blair said the force could "stop the bombardment coming over into Israel and therefore gives Israel a reason to stop its attacks on Hezbollah".

The calls came as Israel struck targets across Lebanon for a sixth day, killing 15 people in air strikes in the north.
From BBC

so...i am a bully in the pub. i start hitting you. two burly guys advance on the fight. while i'm still hitting you, they restrain...you. because if you can't hit me, that may stop me from hitting you. yup.

dilemma

if you spend your best lines and sharpest witticisms on emails or telephone calls, then there's nothing left to blog. think about it.

update: i was wrong, there's always politics

your money, oil mold

i can amaze my girlfriend with an enlarged penis. just order the new viagggraaxxx.
i can get a phd, now!, from the university of mysterious sounding country.
i can go all night, she'll ask me for more.
i can get rich fast, working from home.
i can let my bank verify a huge transfer, just give pin and card details here.
i can improve, enlarge, augment, intensify, and blow!

update: life, whiptail shark

things i didn't know

• that the curve of a woman's body looks incredibly beautiful when seen surrounded by water through plexiglass
• that at 3am my kitchen worktop becomes a super-highway for spiders on speed

fuerza bruta

if i let you get in, will you be gentle? will you run scared, when you see what's inside? will you understand why i'm not moving? will you be fascinated by the patterns in my head? will you spend hours just looking at the twirling, twirling, twirling enlessly? will you get annoyed? will you like it when i get annoyed? will you? will you want to go back in? and wander out. for little walks round this town. with or without me? will you not mind that i find the moon more interesting than your latest story, whatever story you're telling me now? will you see why i have to do this? and that? and let me do it and not ask me how it's going? how i am? will you let me be quiet in your arms and start dancing when i do? let me be? will you be interested when i'm boring? and i'm boring most of the time... will you? will you want to tell me all about you? and do it again in a different way? and light my fags when i'm drunk and can't get the bloody lighter to work? and not mind that i won't really, really listen to you? won't you get fed up with questions? or silences? or just doing nothing, because that's it, and there's nothing to do, and let's just look at the few stars that do get through the london sky. and maybe go to the cinema. if you like. i don't mind.

a nice little earner

the windows in the ladies toilet of the very worthy organization i work for are opaque from the inside, but transparent from the outside.

people can lounge in the newly built roof terrace meeting-room and toilet-spot the girls as we go for our hourly whatevers (staring longingly at the mirror with accompanying multiple sighing not an uncommon activity)

i think the builders must have cooked up a deal with senior management, so that -- as my school's clearly right-on male director told me once when i complained about having to wear skirts instead of trousers -- they have "something to admire and smile about" while they sit discussing the latest human rights disaster in the world.

disaster

night in
Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

a woman was found running up and down her walls and ceiling in south-central london this evening. the fire brigade arrived at the flat -- situated in the "little portugal" neighbourhood -- just moments ago and are still trying to get her down. according to psycologists called to the scene, the probable reason for this unfortunate event is a combination of excessive amounts of energy and not enough to do. it seems that the behaviour started unfolding at around the time it became apparent to the victim that the only thing to watch on television was little britain's big swim. it was also noted that the woman had been wearing out-in-town type clothes at the time. witnesses close to the temporarily deranged woman speculate that she had been meant to be out that night, but circumstances conspired to bring her home earlier than expected. luckily, it seems the presence of some of london's finest may prove to be a soothing influence on the woman in question.

we will keep you up to date with the latest developments.

high voltage

if only there was a way to plug me in, my current surplus energy and excitement would sort out the whole world's energy crisis.

sensible advice?

my american-yanqui friend listens to my stories. thinks. then tells me i should be the creative one in my next relationship.

so, out with the painters, writers, actors, sculptors and in with the bankers, doctors, stock-brokers?

then again, american-yanquis can sometimes be terribly wrong....

EC1V to SW1

moon over vauxhall bridge
Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

exmouth market - cultural breakthrough
the man, after a year, puts his hand on my hand and tells me he thinks i'm great. and i think he's great too.

victoria street - bijoux
the french girl speaks with such a fruity fghrench accent that everytime she opens her mouth you want to shut it with a kiss

eccleston square - accomplice
a couple break into the enclosed garden. she cries out. he laughs. you ascertain the situation and give a sigh of relief and allow a smile to flicker by, because you know what they'll get up to in there

grosvenor street - mirror
a pretty girl, in a dainty dress. fag in one hand, glass of wine in the other. effing and blinding like a sailor lost at sea. that's what that looks like then...

vauxhall bridge - moon
a moon orange like a sunset. a long time ago, in a beach far away from here, an afternoon was spent smoking joints and marvelling at the beautiful UFO that was landing on the sea. it took a lot more joints and a lot more laughter to work out the thing was the moon. the moon being fancy, changing its dress for the night.

SMS Post

lost in pimlico without a passport

obsessive compulsive surfing

i am bored because there is nothing to do today, and i am scared because a million things are coming my way tomorrow.

like meteorites predicted long ago. i can see their faded glow, across my horizon. coming closer. a mangled mass of bodies, job descriptions, sky-scrapers, oceans, weather patterns, activism opportunities, friendly exchanges. fused into a rain of denser-than-iridium bomblets. all with the capacity to either whisk me or blow me away.

but. all that is not here yet. so in the meantime, i surf the net. and keep an eye on you.

gooseberry jam

green sticky sweet juice. boiling in the pan. dripping onto toast. straight in.

do no break the rules, do not break the rules, do not break the rules

do not smoke before evening
do not drink on your own
do not get lost on television
do not do not do not

continental

all is revealed. the italian insulted the frenchman's mum. son of a whore.

yes, let's!

yes, let's!
Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

and art! and beautiful things! and crazy ideas! and social awkwardness! and communication problems! and emotional complexity! why not! let's do it!

small moments of extreme happiness

walking in the rain. listening to silly music. feeling every raindrop on your hair, arms, glasses. looking geeky. singing out loud. going home.

thoughts that wake you up

birdsong. confusing. out of place. un-london.
nebulous shapes in your brain. vain efforts to remember dream.
looking back. small memories. smile playing in the corner of your mouth.
all wrong. no point looking back. open eyes.
alarms goes off. snooze. 10 minutes more.

the walk

in order to create the perfect walk, mentally picture a man falling down on the floor with cardiac arrest for every step you take. swing. start again.

guardian readers go to the theatre 4 times a year on average

but not all of them go on their own and then walk all the way home, wearing cowboy boots, a rancher hat and a t-shirt saying "yee ha"

the worm

looking down to my hips on this boring office day, i came across an old scar i'd forgotten all about.

back from a holiday, many years ago, i was having a bath in a flat in clapham. and out of the blue, un-called for, a worm wriggled it's way out of my hipbone.

it sat looking at me for a while, and me him (or her?) both quite surprised, i'm sure. it's not everyday a southamerican worm makes its way to hip london (this was before clapham became the hell-hole of yuppiedom it now is) and it's not every day that a woman gives birth to a non-human life form, from her hipbone (except for in alien movies)

and then it floated away into the bathwater, and we never saw each other again. but he left me with a scar so i wouldn't forget. this worm. my worm.

some things will never change

so, some guy taps her on the shoulder, and because she's drunk and he's got blue eyes, she'll go and kiss him.
and he's a young thing, and he goes into a quiet shock. not expecting quite so much from just a tap.
and then he blurts out: do you want some coke or some mdma?
(if it was a playground, he'd offer her sweets...)
later, she'll say sorry i scared you, and he'll say, no, no, that was blessed, man.

go home now before you do some more damage.

back to normal

• overcast skies
• too much going out
• pain in arms
  

delimited

go to the edges of your body and you find the inside of your skin, tightly surrounding your muscles, keeping your bones together, marking the outer boundaries of your inner space. you. can't. escape.

altered states

my friend who hasn't been in touch for ages has been in touch. news of changes coming up. altered states altering connections. hidden details shining through, unspoken words coming to light, contrast sharpened, meanings set alight. and all is well, all is better. clearer. bright. just the small fry to get through, the wearing of dresses, the combing of hair, the waiting, the breathlessness, the toasts, the one day that changes everything and nothing.

radioactive

some particles react to each other in different ways according to the catalizing situation in which the particles find themselves. in some cases these reactions can in themselves cause other reactions with other particles that also find themselves engulfed in the surrounding environmental variable.
and i don't just know that from reading books.