Beautiful Pizza

Warm and crunchy, beautifully blended flavours and textures
The silky eggplant bottom with juicy green basil leaves, delicate cheese grazing over the sweet cherry fields.
Hot chilli seeds sneaking their way under the sunshine coating of mozzarella and the bursting richness in my mouth, each and every bite.

Small chocolate pocket, a sweet sensual burn
the gooey cocoa spilling through the fire sunken seams
white drooling sugar, from my mouth breathed cool vanilla ice cream

An Opinion Really Is, Only An Opinion.

There is an expanding network of emotionally-repressed, self-ignorant people in our society.
I'm talking about the one and only 'indies'. But not the cool indies, but the indies that believe 'cool' indies are not cool for thinking that being indie is cool, therefore they are subsequently cool(er).
or at least they think that's the case, denying it, at the very back of their minds it sits there.. against the scraped, crickety wall that they continue to paint on rich colours and experimental sedatives so that the bulging, rotten wood of their emotions doesn't collapse, and ruin the mere thought of themselves in another's head.

I have a friend; this time last year we were best friends and here I'll call him butter because there is a packet of butter-menthols next to me and it's a discrete code name.

Butter and I don't talk as much as we once did those seasons ago.
Maybe it has gotten worse or maybe I've grown a part to see the violence.
Him and I have organised a sleep-over night, a 'girls night' he said. Full of 'bitching', 'eating healthy food', 'bitching', 'sex in the city' and 'bitching!' So clearly the lives of other people of which will most probably be the lives of his friends will be scolded at and have comments-that he would only share with an distant outsider and never close to their face-made about them.
Thats fine. Really it is. If thats how he is at this point in his life, that's his journey and I'm in no position to place my opinion as higher and more correct than his.
Butter also states on his blog website (not to quote for safety reasons) ''most people in my grade have the mental capacity of an insect'' and "I hate it when someone does an accent and doesn't at all sound like the real thing".
However, on his blog, are thousands of pictures. One recently uploaded is this one,

To me, this seems to symbolise the nature of a Buddha and the energy and connection he holds with world and all life. Of course it is open to interpretation, however a picture such as this usually involves a fair amount of depth and meaning rather than a nice, colourful picture that shows a person sitting on a stool in the middle of a jungle- thats just my guess. 

Now to start with, if this picture does hold more meaning and represents the nature of a Buddha to Butter and it is in his initiative to show it on his blog, you would think he would somewhat agree with what is being depicted or at least understand the point.

Assuming this is the case, is it not foolish of him to be so distasted by wrong accents rather than accepting them? 

Assuming this isn't the case, is it not foolish of him to compare people to something will such low mental capacities- or at least that is what may be believed- before taking a look in the mirror and seeing his own faults?

Of course many of us do this to some extent. I for one know I have been in similar positions and still do, say and believe paradoxical things.

Maybe I won't say he is wrong, because he isn't, not really.

It's not really him that gets to me, its the wide group of people like Butter that hate so many things yet come across like they are free-loving, peaceful, human beings full of love and kindness. But it's not even striving to be that but not yet there; it's liking the idea of what it is to be that sort of person and displaying it in clothes, colours, pictures, books and recreational activities just because other people-that are closer to being the 'alpha male' than they are- do the same thing. And this sort of behavior is the constant dripping of red paint from that scraped rickety wall that just won't stick onto that bulging, rusted wood. 

I'm not psychologist, mind reader, spiritual healer or anything of the like, but I think these people need to do some expressing out in the open.

I don't like to see a large group of people get shut down so ridiculously when there are many things a person can do to better oneself.

and of course that goes for me too.

Passionfruit Creme Brulee

Although having already eaten a huge chunky piece of chocolate mud cake (the sort you know has more calories than your daily requirements), last night I went to a restaurant with my parents for desert.
I don't go out with my parents that often anymore and my dad never announces dining for desert, so I wasn't about to pass up the chance to go to a nice restaurant and get a fancy treat. Hey, you only live once.

I walked past the sparkling chilled shelf, my eye grabbed onto the small lemon meringue pie; it's dusted glimmering, swirling cone like dancing thick cream on top of thick buttery pastry. My decision had been made.
I opened the menu in front of me and flicked to the desert section, 'Passionfruit Creme Brulee'.
There it was, dazzling on the hard glossy paper, calling me to sink into it's creamy depths. My decision had been made, again.

On the television I had seen people holding their spoon ready and then cracking the glassy caramel coating, I imitated them and felt the love they had described. The passionfruit pulp relaxed, in a pool of cool, thick vanillary cream inside the cracked top, I didn't waste a moment- this wouldn't be something easily forgotten.
It was more the texture than the flavour of the dish; extremely smooth and yolky, the hard caramel glaze on the surface complimented a perfect contrast, passionfruit gave it a subtle twang of sourness and the rich vanilla ice cream in a bowl to the side added that little extra richness.

Look forward to some beautiful creme brulee's by me in the future :)


photo by Katzzii