i voted

i voted 4 the first time

i voted 4 mmp

i voted 4 stv

i voted 4 mana

i voted 4 stuart nash

google image search john key hot dog

via james

'Politics' should not be a synonym for 'government'

On my way to vote I walked past a bakery
and saw through the window a pain au chocolat.
I thought, 'maybe I will buy that on my way back'

I stood in the polling booth and ticked three boxes.
There was one section of the form I didn't fill in
as if it were a test that I hadn't sufficiently studied for

I felt guilty for voting so ignorantly
(I was much more well informed during the last election),
but I also would  have felt guilty if I hadn't voted at all

I would feel guilty about being apathetic.
Is it a paradox to feel guilty about being apathetic?
I have always believed that an apathetic person is a pathetic person

On the way home I walked past the bakery,
only 15 minutes had passed but the store was now closed.
I feel most guilty that I cared more about losing the pastry than the election

Dumbocracy

2011 election

that worm dominated that debate

WORM PARTY

people don't really like

Phil Goff

why don't people realise that a country is only as good

as how it treats the 

people worse off

sitting down in a dress w/ no tights

not giving a fuck

AMC for prime minister

;;;) 

 John Key is weird

things that are important:

the income gap

race relations

the environment

education

things that are not important:

subsidising big companies that pollute the environment

selling all our shit

talking about domestic violence and child poverty and then forcing people to spend most of their income on GST

doing other stupid stuff

VOTE

i live really close to Nicky Wagner's office

the Greens are gonna do real well

MMP

people are gonna get real confused about the referendum on the voting system

THEME: election

I am a cake

I am cake batter. I am cake batter all sticky and eggy and spicy (I am ginger cake). I am liquid sort of thick though, and cold and it isn’t very pleasant to be me right now I tell you. There are fingers dipping in me, my body wants to fight back but it can’t. When the fingers pull out it hurts and my body sticks to them and the fingers put me in mouths. It’s okay though, I’m used to it. I’m cake batter. When I get poured out of my bowl it’s okay too. I don’t really like the bowl; I like the tin. The tin is my favourite place. The tin goes in the oven and it is warm and I feel happy and I swell with assurance and pride and probably hot air, though without conceit. The oven is nice, the tin is nice, it is nice to be cake batter in these places. I am happy in these places. I am happy.  

BEd, Bachelor of Education

Bed is my favourite place
like a brewery is an alcoholic's.
The source of my pleasure
is the source of my pain.

It is 3:14am.
Eye drylids are my
and I am cobbling words from emails I sent earlier.

There is such a thing as too much of a good thing,
absence does make the heart grow fonder,
and clichés are clichéd for a reason.

I spend whole days here.
Where do you think I'm writing this from?
My default position is propped up against pillows
which are propped up against headboard,
but the satisfaction of any given day can be measured
by the amount of time I manage to escape this room.

Every day starts and ends here
and sometimes the addiction proves so strong
that the period in between is spent here also.

The bed is a tomb.
The bed is an escape.
The bed is where I have read the most stories.
The bed is queen sized.
The bed is warm.
The bed is safe.
The bed is a thing
                           that I am glad I can take comfort in.
                           that separates me from the abyss.
                           that can be relied on to hug me.
                           that I trust.
                           that I love