the price of freedom.

i'm furiously writing, smoking ciggies and eating whittakers 72% cocoa dark chocolate. it's like speed, dark chocolate, once your tastebuds even sense it in the mouth they quiver with joy and it makes you want to keep eating and eating it..
dear me.

i'm trying to write this short story.
i've got an idea but it's still gelling in my brain
but it's about the consequence of chaos, or the price of freedom.
in this particular story they are the same.
it's set in a pig farm.
stay tuned!
although, i don't know how to link a short story to my blog so...
?

today a piwakawaka (fantail) came and sat on the little bamboo fence around the garden about ten feet away from where i was sitting and peeped at me. i mean, that's the noise they make peeep...
they are the sweetest dearest birds.
although Maori (our native people here in dreamland) believe if one flies in your house it means death. they have many names for the fantail, which is unusual. they have given the fantail more names than all the other birds it seems..
i think they love them most, even though they know what they herald..

today i saw the biggest, most awesomest (in the grandest sense of the word) hawk. it was the size of a little dragon. it flew up when i reached it. i watched it's wings pulling on the air to gain height, i was flying myself at the time, in the car down the straight. we both felt weightless for a moment and then i was pulled back down to earth, holding the wheel; the hawk lifted above the treeline and was gone.
i pray for them. the birds. they are so guileless, vulnerable; their skin is delicate; they break so easily.
we are similar.

i didn't do anything with photos today so i'm putting up two of my favourite pics ever, they're of the place where the piwakawaka sat.
i like these photos so much because they remind me of John Steinbeck and the 1940's
but there's no way i could properly explain that to anyone..