Some of you will be wondering where all my past history has gone. I began blogging way back in 1998. Every now and then I wipe my slate clean and start again. I did this recently by using blogger instead of a web-hosting box we were using in the States. Blogger was a more useful option while we were travelling and now I prefer it because I don't need to bother about with HTML codes etc.

[sigh]

Once upon a time I was interested in technology, amazed by it. These days it's burdensome and confusing. Every time my mobile phone dies and I have to learn a new one, I'm annoyed. Currently, I have a very pretty pink phone that does lots of things,... but it is missing some of the most useful functions of my old phone. There is no key lock, for example. Grace can just plonk away at the keypad and ring Siberia for all I know.

Anyway, if you are here wandering around looking for my article on Deb Conway, I will repost it shortly. In the mean time, I discovered an old stash of poems I wrote in 2002 and I was moved by their emotion. I'm posting one here for your reading pleasure.

Dear Father,

Your son seeks your approval.
There’s nothing else
necessary.

In order to gain it
He will lie
He will reject
himself
He will pretend
He will strive
He will deny vital aspects of
his character
He will try cheap imitations.

There’s nothing he’d
rather have.

I used to be able to come and sit at your feet.
My
world was only as big as the arms length up to your lap.
There I was warm,
safe, loved, accepted.
My tiny world was complete.

Now you’re
gone
I’m alone with my black heart.
Hollow people speak lies about
acceptance and love.
I’m cold.
I annoy people.

I’ll do
anything you want
Just to have you back.
I lie to myself and then to
others.
I fear your frown.
I pretend,
I strive, someday I’ll get
there.

I am a suitcase which my soul carries
around.

Would you mind if I apologise for my existence?
I do
appear to be taking up valuable air space.
If we were on a sinking ship,
I’d be the first to jump off with the cargo.
Perhaps even
before.

I would give up my life if it would make you think more of
me.
My life is so obviously unimportant
Let me wait
While your life
goes on
I’m hoping mine will
Grow in importance later on.