roadkill

your glassy eyes betray you

last night i drank quite a bit at adams house. Adam parked himself by the window sill for an hour and created a beautiful drip action jackson pollock number 5 on the carpark canvass below. He just kept going and goin, like he had eaten a particularly spicy family of four for dinner, i didnt know the human body could contain so much vomitus. i added to it, and left his house feeling like the devil had come in my throat. I went home, colder and emptier and more alone than kingsford at 4am, a part of me hoping to get knifed.

Ive been pretty fucking depressed for quite awhile now, i just havnt realised it cos ive been forcibly shoving it out of view. but its starting to get a little debilitating. my room is a mess of books, cans , ash and undone school work. keep telling my self that over the course of the next cigerrette i'll end the jarvis cocker chord progression in my head and get to it, but the fags are locking arms in an endless line. horribly whiny, self absorbed lines and paragraphs like this get ejected out every now and then , cos these words can never leave my mouth.



Don't bother saying you're sorry / Why don't you come in Smoke all my cigarettes again / Every time I get no further How long has it been? / Come on in now, wipe your feet on my dreams. You take up my time / Like some cheap magazine. When I could have been learning something Oh well, you know what I mean, oh / I've done this before And I will do it again / Come on and kill me baby While you smile like a friend / Oh and I'll come running Just to do it again /


You are the last drink I never should have drunk You are the body hidden in the trunk / You are the habit I can't seem to kick You are my secrets on the front page every week You are the car I never should have bought You are the dream I never should have caught You are the cut that makes me hide my face You are the party that makes me feel my age Like a car crash I can see but I just can't avoid. Like a plane I've been told I never should board. Like a film that's so bad but I've got to stay till the end Let me tell you now: it's lucky for you that we're friends.

there is a popish plot afloat

your glassy eyes betray you

I did do to the beach in the end. Several of em. walked from my house to Coogee and from there took the coastal pathway to Bondi. Stopped many times along the way to have a smoke on the cliffs and stare out at the pacific ocean. theres something about staring at the breakers from a great height and tasting saltspray in your mouth at the edge of a continent with nothing before you but thousands of miles ocean til south america. something indescribably beautiful and poignant.

from bondi, i went to kris' house to watch movies and stay over. In the mornin i heard the dog crunching on something hard, and realised that my stitched on thumb nail had fallen off. In equal parts amusement and disgust i tried to get it back. then the dog started making funny noises and i became mortally afraid of it choking to death right there and then in the hall while everyone was having breakfast. " hey everybody sorry, i killed your dog with my disgusting detacheable thumbnail, do u mind passing the butter? "

the dog spluttered the nail onto the floor next to kris' mums feet. I inched closer feigning conversation to keep her distracted, but before i could put a foot on it, the dog got there first, and starting making grating noises again. finally managed to get the damn thing out of its mouth while feigning having a hearty breakfast time game with it, and disposed of the nail , which surprisingly didnt have so much as a scratch on it.

Went driving around the bays with kath after that , and came back after going to newtown in the evening.

Ive been having troubling history related dreams lately waking up to the sounds of phrases like , " NO POPERY!" or " Roundhead, fling me up[a leg of mutton and i shall fling thee down a lord." The more i study history the more i strengthen a disparaging view of mankind. It seems nothing commendable or admirable was driven by anything more than ruthless self interest, packaged in shiny altruism and her accompanying ideals. the rights of man, the enlightenment, the english civil war, the french revolution.
oh well.

welcome to kingsford

your glassy eyes betray you

Last week, there was a midnight rampage at kensington and a couple of cars got smashed, this week the bus drivers union said it was considering boycotting dangerous routes including kingsford after somebody fired an air rifle at a bus driver from the kingsford roundabout. I love the eastern suburbs, they have so much character.

i woke up this morning acutely aware of what last nights binge drinking had done to my body. You start to take notice when your piss smells like whisky. i have a vague recollection of wobbling into uni at night in search of more alcohol and being given a slice of cold pizza instead, with the advice to stay out of trouble.

Its 1130 am on a saturday. The weekend has arrived. The domestic life is now presenting me with two options, that both hold promises of scrotum splitting excitement and fun; cooking or trying to figure out why the washing machine wont work.

The academic life is presenting me with a list of weekend obligations that i shall doggedly attempt to plough thru like an old farmer on a dead mule in a barren field.

The social life is reminding me that it is a figment of my imagination.

for 2 weeks i have been whining about going to the beach. today hell and highwater wont keep me from it. but catherine the great, and a spoilt washing machine might.

the Ruby Rabbit

your glassy eyes betray you

its a sunday again. Yesterday i followed the duchesses to their rehearsal and helped them set up for a gig at the ruby rabbit at oxford street, a tiny but charming venue. The cracked glass windows behind the band provided a changing street scene backdrop to their set, and made the whole place seem like an attic. Watching them practice and play, i realised how much i miss playing in a band or just making music for that matter. They played a great set. Afterwards, we packed up and moved the stuff back to tony's house and i got back pretty late. Theres an industrial area near Tony's house with grey bricks and factory chimneys that looks very much like something on a socialist postcard or a pinkfloyd album cover. Found it very beautiful. Sydney can be very beautiful even in her drab and bleak places.
Woke up this morning feeling really crushed for some reason i couldnt quite get a hold of. Just lay in bed an hour , before i forcibly shook it off and proceeded to the frozen bathroom. whenever i take a shower my head fills with images of naked swedes dashing out of saunas and diving into frozen lakes. Gonna go the IGA to get some groceries for the week, i hope they have cambells soup on half price again, i dont feel like cooking. Before the sun goes down id like to go the beach.