Girl you know it's true

Today's post is no doubt inspired by the challenge once put to Ernest Hemingway that he compose a story in only six words. (For the record Hemingway's response read: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”)

This is a little different, as I am tasked with a "memette" that requires the composition a six-word bio with an accompanying illustration. The idea is not simply to choose six adjectives, but to write a memoir in miniature. The good folk down at Fabulon have broken all of the rules and have tagged everyone who has visited their blog. I quite like their effort (of course) and could easily accept that as my own, but that would be perhaps be poor form (although perhaps true to form!).

So, in the spirit of avoiding to think too much about these things, when it comes to summing up our life in six words, the first things that comes to mind:

"Honestly, I really just don't care."

Why not try one for yourself. Consider it cathartic.

Comments

freefalling said…

Piker!

5 April 2008 at 13:10

Kris McCracken said…

No, I wasn't piking, I mean that sometimes (well quite a lot actually), I find myself talking to people and the inevitably start on about various trials and tribulations, and I can't help but feel deep down that I, well, just don't care.

I think that I'm too tired. Or something.

5 April 2008 at 22:03

Dina said…

"Why not try one for yourself."
Which, a memette or a piece of cat food?
Love that kitty!

6 April 2008 at 06:34

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

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