The eyes of J.T. Eckleburg.

"This is a valley of ashes- a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ahses take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendant effort, of ash-grey men, who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediatly the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight.
But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Docter T.J.Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T.J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic- their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, form a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a non-existant nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practise in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness, or forgot them and moved away. But his eyes, dimmed a little by many pointless days, under the sun and rain, brood on over the solemn dumping ground."

How much does this echo our lives? How much greyness and bleakness sourrounds our lives because we lack morals? We live to party, and party to live. We take drugs, we get drunk, we are the social decay. I am no differant. Our lives are dominated by the need to satisfy our physical urges. I am no differant. We are judged not by ourselves, but by God. You are no differant. We live out our lives under certain ways, yet they turn greyer as each day passes, and the eyes dim even futher. Through sadness? Sadness at our waste? We are grotesque. I am no differant. We build our foundations on nothing solid, and they will crumble before our eyes. Our lack of meaning and direction, causes us to succumb even further to demoralistion. I am no differant.

Climbing out of a window rather than using the front door this morning was reather tedious..

The art of silence

The Art of Silence is a damn good play. Arg, I can't seem to find a copy of it anywhere. Damn you Amazon!. You have actually failed me! *shakes fist in anger*


I like silence. It's such a beautiful sound. The sound of nothing. A time to be alone with ones thoughts, to absorb all that is around them. I spent part of today in a car with a bunch of people. One of the guys, was soo uncomfortable with the idea of no one talking, that everytime there was silence for more than a few seconds, they would start talking about incescent crap. Anything, and everything. I found it intriguing, how after knowing some of us for many many years, they still felt so uncomfortable to be around us in silence. For them, the silence was hell. A sign that all was not well. To them, silence wasn't natural. There is no right or wrong answer, but from a personal point of view, I love silence. I am just as happy to have noise, but at the same time, silence is just as golden. I didn't feel a need to say anything. Just was contented with the music on the radio. But clearly, this guy just felt so uncomfortable. In the end, I got fed up with them talking crap I just told him to shut up. They did thank god.

I got thinking briefly about this. Why are a group of friends, sometimes so scared to sit in each other's company with nothing passing between them? I have my theories, but whatever.

Also, why are De-icer's water based? Actually I do know why. But they are complete crap. I found my brother getting annoyed when the de-icer was taking forever. So, I just went to the kitchen cupboard, took out this jar of salt, and chucked it all over the car. Worked a treat. The snow/ice, just slid right off.