Prayer before birth

I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
when they speak to me, my thoughts when they think me,
my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
my life when they murder by means of my
hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
waves call me to folly and the desert calls
me to doom and the beggar refuses
my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
one face, a thing, and against all those
who would dissipate my entirety, would
blow me like thistledown hither and
thither or hither and thither
like water held in the
hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.

-- Louis MacNeice

Thomas's monday morning poetry

Good Morning All!

A few days ago, I walked into a colleague’s office and announced proudly that I had managed to reduce a quote that I had asked for concerning reading glasses by flattering the lady on the other side into submission. The lady colleague’s response was; “ You’re such a player!”

Her response intrigued me. My definition of a player is a person who will sum up a situation (the situation being a targeted lady) and use any means at his disposal to achieve his goal, which is normally to score with the targeted lady (and I don’t mean a kiss on the cheek). The player would classically manipulate the target into submission. I emphasize the word manipulate. Once the player has achieved his goal, he moves on. There is no second date, even though he might leave the lady with the promise of one, or at least the promise of a phone call.

Does a player have no conscience? I don’t know. I asked two other ladies what their opinion of a player was. The one was direct: her definition of a player was an assh#le. The other lady summed up the player as someone who would use any means to achieve the desired end, which was getting the targeted lady home.

So, obviously there are varying opinions of the description of a player. I believe that, to give the idea of a player some definition, one has to compare the prospective player (and I bet that each and every one of you knows of someone who loosely fits this description) with a yardstick against whom you can judge the person.

Who better to use as a yardstick than the most notorious womanizer of modern times: Casanova!

“I am writing my life to laugh at myself, and I am succeeding. I write thirteen hours a day, and they pass like thirteen minutes. What pleasure in remembering one’s pleasures! But what effort to recall them to mind! It amuses me because I am inventing nothing. What chagrins me most is that I am forced, at this point, to mask the names, since I cannot expose the affairs of others.”
-Giacomo Casanova

Casanova was a thoroughly interesting man. The back page of his autobiography reads thus:

“Seducer, gambler, necromancer, swindler, Good Samaritan, spy, swashbuckler, self-made gentleman, entrepreneur, wit, poet, translator, philosopher, and general bon vivant, Giacomo Casanova was not only the most notorious lover the Western world has known, but also a storyteller of the first order. Since he lived a life richer and stranger than most fictions, the tale of his own adventures is his most compelling story, but his memoir remained-at 12 volumes – unfinished at the time of his death in 1798. In these selections, made from authoritative French texts, are all the highlights of Casanova’s life: his youth in Venice as a precocious ecclesiastic; carousing and dabbling in the occult; imprisonment and thrilling escape; travels and encounters with major literary figures and world leaders; and, of course, many amorous conquests, ranging from noblewomen to nuns and cobblers’ daughters, all of them willing partners in the adventures of his life.”

Casanova was a character who lived a fulfilled life. If one discounts his amorous adventures, it is still a life that cannot be compared to the normal. What is most interesting about the man though, is that he loved women dearly, and that every woman that he seduced was an enthusiastic partner.

So, next time one looks at another, and analyzes whether that person is a player or not, compare that person to the master, Casanova. Is time spent with that person an adventure or is it a drunken manipulation of another?

And now for some more Chinese philosophy:

The Valley Spirit never dies.
It is named the Mysterious Female.
And the Doorway of the Mysterious Female
Is the base from which Heaven and Earth sprang.
It is there within us all the while;
Draw upon it as you will, it never runs dry.

Tootle pip.
Thomas

Thomas's monday morning poetry

Here’s some food: food for thought.

My brother and his team mates were in Paris last week for a students 7 a side tournament (they were playing for the SA Students Sevens rugby side). They loved Paris. They loved the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, The river Seine… everything was beautiful. What they thought was a little disconcerting was the proliferation of machine gun toting gendarmes asking random questions of innocent passers by. Smells a bit like the old South Africa.

Issues of concern to these students was the price of beer (naturally) and the French fixation with bread. The bread issue was a culture shock to them: a team of South African students used to a protein intake that is close to overdose subjected to eating French bread all day. In the end they resorted to Le MacDonalds. They all agreed that, having viewed the French women, South African ladies are the most beautiful. Apparently the fixation for baguettes etc. has had a rather nasty side effect on the French female derriere.

And now for the next installment of the Tao Te Ching:

Heaven and Earth are ruthless;
To them the Ten Thousand Things are but as
Straw Dogs.
The Sage too is ruthless;
To him the people are but as straw dogs.
Yet Heaven and Earth and all that lies between
Is like a bellows
In that it is empty, but gives a supply that never
Fails.
Work it, and more comes out.
Whereas the force of words is soon spent.
Far better is it to keep what is in the heart.

Tootle pip,
Thomas

Memories of Stir Trance Party!!

Mariano, Jo & Jus

Mariano, Cat & Jus

Bryony, Jo & Kitty

Let Go - Author Unknown

To let go doesn't mean to stop caring;
It means I can't do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut myself off...
It's the realization that I can't control another...
To let go is not to enable,
but to allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try and change or blame another,
I can only change myself.
To let go is not to care for,
but to care about.
To let go is not to fix,
but to be supportive.
To let go is not to judge,
but to allow another to be a human being.
To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their own outcomes.
To let go is not to be protective,
It is to permit another to face reality.
To let go is not to deny,
but to accept.
To let go is not to nag, scold, or argue,
but to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish the moment.
To let go is not to criticize and regulate anyone,
but to try to become what I dream I can be.
To let go is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.
To let go is to fear less and love more!

Ouch!

I was playing with my poi in the back garden last night. (Don't you love summer evenings, when it's warm and light so late?) I finally managed to get the one poi-ball going forward and the other going backwards (called split-swinging). I got all excited and started going faster, until SMACK, the one ball hit me full-force in the eye. I had to stifle a yell because the neighbours were in their back garden, kind of watching me, and i was kind of showing off. So I bravely swung them around a few more times and then ran inside, hand over my eye. I found my housemate Nathan who offered me the sympathy & ice I needed. According to him I was being melodramatic. Maybe he's right because I have not a bruise nor a scratch to show for it! Hah! :-)

I've had people in and out, to look at my room, since i will sadly be leaving my house for good on Sunday. Thanks for all the offers of accomodation from everyone...i may just have to visit all the corners of the UK!

Last Saturday Danie came to London (he was in the States with me...in fact I shared a room with Mikey & him for most of New York and it was Danie, Mikey & I who did the road trip-in a Mustang- from NY to Florida). He lives & works near Bath but was up for the weekend so Jo & I went to Putney to meet up with him. We spent the afternoon reminiscing fond memories & awesome times with Mikey.

We then headed to a braai (bbq) at one of Jo's friends house in Maida Vale. It turned out there were about 10 guys there. Most from Mossel Bay (Jo's hometown), and most pretty young. Most hated London, lived together & couldn't fathom how Jo & I adore London. Greg (Jo's friend) is a great guy. He loves London, loves the diversity, culture and has a stunning Brazillian girlfriend. I think it is sometimes frustrating for those of us who enjoy London.. we just want to show those who don't how much it has to offer. It was an entertaining braai, but the testerone eventually became a little overpowering so Jo & I scurried off to have a dance at our favorite place...1001 in Brick Lane. We met up with Jo's friend Leon, who she hadn't seen since 2004, and we had a good boogie and a big mission home, since we missed the last tube.

On Sunday I helped Jo move to her new place in Surrey Quays/Canada Water. How lucky are we in London to have the bus & tube? A taxi would've cost a fortune from NW london to SE london. The funniest part of the journey was when we put Jo's bags in a Tesco's trolley in Surrey Quays, only to have the wheels lock when we tried to leave the parking area...he he...i'm not sure how it works, must be a magnetic strip?? Jo lives in a really nice place about 1 minute walk from this picture (if i have the right side of the water)

This weekend is going to be a busy one since it is the last weekend in my own place. Cat is coming from Coventry, Justin from Brighton, Sarah from Bristol and possibly Bryony from Nettledon. The plan is to go to 1001 on Friday night, where Matt, Shelley & Kerry are meeting us and catching up with Justin. Saturday if the weathers good, will be park day. Saturday night is Stir

On Sunday afternoon, i am moving my stuff to Jo's place and then on Monday I begin training in Kent. I stay in staff accomodation on the property until Friday, and then I go back to Jo's place until I am placed with my first Client, which happens within 2 weeks.

Magical fairy dust sprinklings with love

xoxo

baby dreams

I've been having a recurring dream for the last few weeks now. I go through the labour and give birth to this beautiful baby. I hold it in my arms and rock it. In some dreams i'm almost repulsed by it and want it to go away, and in my dream i feel so guilty for thinking/feeling like that. In other dreams I'm nursing it, and I love it more than i ever thought i could love anything.

When searching for possible meanings, I stumbled upon this article...a little bit of useless but interesting info:

Babies And Dreams
In a study on babies and dreaming, itwas learned that babies spend about 66% or their sleeping time in theREM state. That is quite a bit of dreaming, considering that the average adult spends 15-20% of their sleep time in the dreaming stage. Dream researchers believe that there is a correlation between REM sleep and brain development. Moreover,premature babies spend up to 80% of their sleepin the REM state. As babies become more mature,their REM sleep decreases. Droppingto 50% in the full term baby and down to 35%in a one year old. This finding is believed that REM sleep is important in the mental development of the baby. Dreaming maybe seen as a way of"exercising" the mind and stimulating it. As they get older, they will be able to get mental stimulation from their surroundings and outside environment. As we get older and older, our REM sleep willreduce down to 15%.

But that is not exactly what i was looking for. What does my dream really mean? Am I broody, or am I just going through changes? What I was really looking for was this from SoulFuture's Dream Dictionary:

BABY:
Dreaming about a baby usually indicates new beginnings, a new idea or a new birth within.
A babe in arms, care taking someone whom you deem to be unable to take care of themselves
Nursing a baby may suggest becoming familiar with or nurturing your inner child
BIRTH:
Giving birth to a baby often represents the onset of a new phase, cycle or belief
Spawning new life from within
Discovering new aspects of yourself
A spiritual awakening
Vulnerability
Dependence
NURSING:
Nurturing or care taking
Healing energy
A fear of being unable to take care of yourself

It kind of makes sense, huh? I'm shortly going to be doing a job where I'll be taking care of people who are unable to take care of themselves...new beginnings, new ideas. Not sure what this feeling of repulsion means...

A Dream
by William Blake.

Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.

Troubled, wildered, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangle spray,
All heart-broke, I heard her say:

"Oh my children! do they cry,
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see,
Now return and weep for me."

Pitying, I dropped a tear:
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied, "What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?

"I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle's hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home!"


Fairy love xoxoxo

blog to check out

I apologise for the mistake in Eric's blog addy the other day. Click here for the correct one.

Countryside, kinda creepy coincidences & a new job!!

It's time I got back into blog mode. As you should've noticed, when i get a bit down I revert to writing really strange poetry and in the moment think it's really cool. Sorry bout that!

Last weekend a lot happened, even though it wasn't a mad weekend! Sister Bryony was working at the door of Tabernacle in Islington, for a party called 'Hey Gorgeous!' which was such a laugh and great fun. Everyone was friendly (and drunk), the music was brilliant and there was some,erm, entertainment from an extremely drunk couple. The poor girl realised she was not at home alone, and you could see she wanted to bury herself alive. Very amusing! We got a bus home with a bunch of Bryony's friends and people from Hemel Hempstead, and finally crawled into bed in the most stunning room in a beautiful old country house at about 5am. Bryony lives in Nettledon, which is a tiny tiny country town in the middle of farmlands and hills. That place is like heaven. She's moved in with a couple Nigel & Faye and there little girl, and they've been so good to my friend and sista. I just googled Nettledon and can't find anything about it, so either I have the name wrong, or it's really that tiny. It's in Hertfordshire if i'm not mistaken.

Anyway, later in the day we walked along the 'Roman Road' through farmlands to the pub in a neighbouring tiny town called Frithsden. The Alford Arms won the Catering Pub of the Year award in 2005. The food is outstanding, and the setting...well, you can hardly beat it! What was quite unexpected was all the fantastic sports cars standing outside. I guess i expected tractors and trucks...ha ha!

Bryony and I had a weird encounter on the way back from the pub. We were driving Nigel's Landrover over Roman Road, where normal cars can't go, cos it's pretty rough. The road is narrow and there were two cyclists up ahead, so we pulled over and waited for them to pass. As they went past I saw Bryony staring at these 2 guys and then she opened her door and shouted 'Hey, are you brethren?' What was really weird is that not long before in the pub, i'd asked her if she ever saw brethren around, and she said none lived for miles. The boys answered 'yes' and were a bit confused till they realised it was Bryony they were looking at. She called them to the car, where I was introduced and we were reminded about where the 'only truth' is. Then we had a look at the map of the route they were cycling. Then they left. As you can imagine we were a bit freaked out! Coincidence?? I think not. At least now they got a chance to see (and spread the good word) that we were actually out in the countryside, totally innocent and happy. Hmmm...no doubt it will get twisted as it seems to in the peebs. Either Bryony & I will be branded "lesbian" or else Mister Hales will prophecy that we will be in a car accident. Who knows? Or maybe they'll just take us on face value and realise that we are pretty normal girls, who are enjoying life(including nature!). Oh, I forgot, enjoying life is a sin. Ooopsy daisy!

I think i needed to get that out. Forgive me, my family, if any of you read this, but I hope you get my drift.

That evening Bryony's dad, his girlfriend and brother came around for a barbeque at Nigel and Faye's. Bradley is a fine strapping young farmer lad, and Laurie is, well, from another weird & wonderful planet. I also met Bryony's grandparents briefly. They're really sweet, I'd love to go visit them sometime. We had a very entertaining evening, everyone was merry and happy, and we played the keyboard and sang (bryony's pretty good), listened to good music, ate Faye's amazing food (she's a great cook & Nigels a great barbeque-r) and star-gazed. You can see so many more stars out there! Bryony is very special to me and i'm glad she's being looked after well! Below is Nigel, Bryony, Faye, N&F's house, including Bryony's fab room!

On Sunday I got a train from Hemel Hempstead to Coventry to go meet with Jo & Cat to check out OrangeBlossom/ Cat's home. We had a very chilled two days. We went to the funfair and ate candyfloss and then sat in the park until we were iceblocks. Neville came around on Sunday night, i asked him to bring juice...he brought cheese. Like 2 big blocks of it!! Must be my saffa accent. Ha ha! But he brought juice too! He'd spent the day waterskiing so his brain was probably frozen. It was great to see him!

As usual, spending time with Jo & Cat is special. They always have such words of wisdom and we lift each other up. Because we are all kind of spiritual and mostly positive, we feed off eachother, which is amazing. We went to a Spirit fair in Coventry cathedral. I was expecting a holistic event, but it was actually Christian. It is amazing to see the gap between Christianity and Spirituality being bridged, through art, poetry, music and prayer. It was intriguing. Gary would've been so interested. They even had an 'aura reader'...which is very new age, but he prays Christian prayers. Very weird but very interesting! Coventry is really pretty with it's parks. The town centre is stunning too, especially by the Cathedral where the road is cobbled. I wish it had been warmer though!

Thereafter it was home with Jo on the good ole megabus...She moves out this weekend! Boohoo!! Jo!! I'm going to miss you insanely!! Shit, i'm miserable when you just leave for work when i'm still asleep, i wake up feeling all disorientated and lonely! hah! love you xxx

A massive shout out to D-d-d-dave, who I called in Egypt last night. It was so rad to hear your voice again after like 4 months!! You've got to come visit soon!!! I'm glad you're finally catching up on my blog! Miss you madly! xxx b-b-b-b-b-b-b

I mentioned in my previous blog...it was on Sunday that I got to hear about Neil & Clive contemplating going back to the peebs. This has stirred me and baffled my brain to a point that I should not blog about it. I cannot comprehend it, let alone understand it. But I also cannot change it....anyway we'll leave it at that!

Yesterday I went for an open day and interview with Active Assistance in Sevenoaks, Kent. It went really well, and now they have just called me to say that I got through and they'd like me to join them for a 5 day training course from the 15-19 May. I am so excited about doing something different, something so much more rewarding than sitting behind this bl**dy desk. I'm excited that I will be making a difference to somebody's life. Helping them to remain active. Active Assistance mainly deals with people with Spinal Injury's(and a few cases of Muscular Dystrophy or Multiple Sclerosis), 75% of which are men. Most of the Clients are between 21 and 45.

"They want to live independently in their own homes and need help to complete everyday tasks.PAs work under the direction of our Clients. You will live with the Client for 2 to 3 weeks at a time, helping them with everyday tasks such as getting in and out of bed, washing & toileting, shopping & cooking. PAs also take our Clients to work, to social events and even on holiday!"

There is a client who likes to travel a lot, Caribbean Cruises and the likes, and of course he needs a PA/carer... There's also a girl in her late 20's who is a student, speaks 5 languages fluently and parties every weekend, and of course the PA/carer even goes to Uni with her, which would be so interesting. So that's my plan for the next few weeks...a training course and then I'll be placed within 2 weeks maximum.

Have a fantastic weekend, may the sun shine!!

Love, peace & magical moments

Fairy xoxo

Great pictures

My fantastic housemate Jonny at play.
In Camden Lock - 2 weeks ago- this guy dressed up in a full on sailor uniform and rowed his wife and 2 kids up and down the lock! Maybe some strange fantasy?

silly fairy poetry

Her thoughts scatter
Tossed and torn
and then return.
the fairy's forlorn
her wings burn
her heart yearns
to change the world
to make them learn.

To make them see-
Her own soul fades
as she forgets it is she
(not he and he and he)
who needs to choose
needs to see

So stretch your wings fairy girl
Guard your heart
Protect your soul
Be bold
Know that not always can people be told
Not always can you save others souls
Or maybe they just don't need saving.

friendships.

I was going to title todays blog something like 'struggle with loss' and then i realised that i wouldn't be feeling loss of family & friends if I hadn't gained them first. I should be thanking them for the privilege of knowing them and learning from them.

What the hell is she on about?

I guess you are bored of hearing about this wonderful Mikey dude. The one who passed away a 3 and a half months ago. Well, he's just been on my mind a lot again. And Jo's. We talk about him a lot. I just cannot believe that he is actually gone sometimes. A few mornings ago i ripped one of his many pictures from my wall and told him to come back to life. Aah, what i'd give to hear his voice, see his name pop up on my msn messenger, or see that smile and those twinkly eyes. To watch him surf, or better have him teach me to surf again...to hear him encourage me, even when i'm a blatantly shit. Even to hear his sarcasm, to argue with him, to have him put me in my place, challenge my thought patterns, discuss hopes and dreams, coffee shops, backpackers, surfschools. To appreciate nature, walk beside him, to relive that walk in the pouring rain in the streets of Long Island. To retalk all our chats. But that was not to be. He is gone, the beautiful memories will linger forever. I am lucky to have loved him, to have been loved by him. I am blessed to have all those wonderful, precious, and difficult, times with him. I can only be thankful for what i have learnt along the way. Thank you Mikey!

Yesterday I accidently stumbled upon the blog of a very brave man. Eric is dying of cancer at 40 years old, and is recording all the emotions he is going through. I was deeply saddened but also intrigued and interested to read what he had to say.

I am busy experiencing another loss. Not caused by death. But, sadly, caused by religion. The same that I have lost my family to.

I have two special friends who are planning to return to the peebs(EBs). They spent the weekend with me two weeks ago. Below are pics. I will not say more today for fear of spitting all my emotions all over this page. I just wish it was not so.

We spent a great couple of days together at my home and in Camden Town and 1001 in Bricklane. I cannot change others choices, as much as i long to. I am just happy for the times we shared.

Much love, peace and strength to make the right choices.

The Wandering One xoxoxo

Thomas's Monday Morning Poetry

A while ago I penned a scathing critique of a newly opened restaurant in Port Elizabeth with a fishy theme combined with distinctly fishy service, style and taste (it was definitely not Ocean Basket, in case anyone was wondering).

So, I take great pleasure in describing the restaurant that a few friends and I frequented on Saturday night!

We booked a table at Natty’s Thai Kitchen for 8 0 clock on Saturday night. From what I had heard from others, I was ready to experience something akin to a culinary orgasm.

In case you missed the little hint in the title of the restaurant, Natty’s specializes in Thai cuisine. It is situated next to Decadence, just off Park Lane, Port Elizabeth.

Natty’s is not a fancy restaurant: you do not find white table cloths on the tables, or menus bound in leather. You get plain pine tables (I think it was pine- maybe the red wine was getting to me) and a menu written in chalk, on a blackboard, on the wall. There is a picture on the wall of a guy surfing. If you smoke, you smoke outside. The restaurant is ideal for a good chat with your friends: seriously relaxed atmosphere. Did I mention that they don’t serve alcohol? You bring your own. So, if you take a bottle of red wine and you are having so much fun with your friends that you run out before the main course has arrived, you’re in trouble.

And now for the fun part: the food! Everyone’s idea of Thai food is the Thai Green Curry Idea. With so many dishes that I had never heard of on the board, I asked Mark, the main dude, for some advice. He suggested a variety of starters for the whole group. Good idea. Tasty, very tasty. I can’t begin to describe every exquisite taste, suffice to say that we were well prepped for the main course.

I asked Mark whether we could sample the Red Curry. I had heard that it was seriously hot. He gladly agreed. Crisis. Your initial impression is that it’s not that hot. From then on it steadily gets hotter. You think the fire in your mouth will die but it intensifies. One friend called for ice to rub onto his inferno-like lips.

So, how was the main course?

I ordered the beef, stir fried with vegetables, flavoured with ginger and served with noodles. I can’t remember what everyone else ate. I was mesmerized by my meal. I have eaten in many restaurants in many parts of the world and I have never experienced such an exquisitely delicate taste.

Mark, the host, is one relaxed guy. Very chilled. I did not have the pleasure of meeting his lady. I shall be back though, and I shall thank her for her exquisite fare ( I’ve used the word exquisite a lot).

Last but not least: this is not one of those promotional scripts that go ‘and the fillet mignon taste fantastic with the Nederburg Lyric’ with a cheesy photograph of the scribe clutching a glass of the offending liquid, a hot waitress and whatever was being eaten, neatly manicured and gathered with gorgonzola grins and empty eyes.

And now for a little bit of Chinese philosophy, curtesy of the Tao Te Ching:

The Way is like an empty vessel
That yet may be drawn from
Without ever needing to be filled.
It is bottomless; the very progenitor of all things in
The world.
In it all sharpness is blunted,
All tangles untied,
All glare tempered,
All dust smoothed.
It is like a deep pool that never dries.
Was it too the child of something else?
We cannot tell.
But as substanceless image it existed be before the
Ancestor.

Way heavy man.

Tootle pip.
Thomas


I've got to say I totally agree with Thomas on Natty's in Port Elizabeth. My 'adopted' parents (Rob&Sheila) took me there, the first time i met them. It was still in the road parallel to Parliament Street then. I have taken people there a few times since and perhaps TAO is the best way of describing it. Simple and incredibly soulful not to mention the 'exquisite' food. Good job Tom!
Love from The Wandering One x