solo

the sort of people who think it's "sad" or "pathetic" to go to the movies alone are the sort of people who will never be able to be independent in thought or action. and will miss out on a whole heap of stuff just because they happened to be alone.

detroit

as the recession creeps through melbourne, i think of you over in detroit with the car companies dying and the corrupt city officials.  and how the zoo was closing down, and all those derelict buildings.  and that homeless guy rocking jazz standards.  wish you were here, or i was there.

missing mixtapes

i sit on the beach and remember the times when there was nothing a good mixtape couldn't solve.  manifestos are complicated now.  i can't even wrap up my thoughts into 90 minutes any more.  i don't think i know what i'm thinking now.  it's less lucksmith; and more grown up.

writers block

virginia already said it.  one needs a room of ones own.  i have a flat of my own, but not ambience.  no big desk with nice pens and some witty postcard from my lover.  if i had a big desk, and some moleskines, i think i'd finally write the novel.

stained glass

if you walk around our suburb long enough, staring at all the stained glass windows, they all start looking like genitalia. like every lead lighter in the northern suburbs was having some prank of making abstract penis' and vaginas and putting them on front doors behind picket fences and mailboxes.

status anxiety

i change my status a thousand times a day, and document the rise and fall in my smile in a few choice words, which zap around the world.  you don't have facebook though, do you?  you'll be outside with a cigarette in hand, oblivious to how my day is going.

urban autumn

it’s autumn so I stop shaving my legs and dig out scarves. i content myself with the joy of sliding back into my boots and red coat and walking down collins street whistling. there aren’t many trees but the air is still fresh and chill; colours changing and autumnal feeling.

secretary

i don’t think I’m strong enough for this job. the constant pressure from biting my tongue and stopping my eyes from rolling is causing considerable long term damage; especially on my ability to smile. not to mention the associated liver damage and weight gain, vast psychological problems and complete cynicism.

buildings interrupting

during the day the buildings interrupt the blue sky like city lights interrupt the stars.  it's so easy to love the city and its cramped quarters in the winter.  but with the blue skies all i want is breezes, horizons, space and quiet.  no traffic, no people, no buildings interrupting.

stuck on the couch

sitting on the couch with you, eating lasagne and drinking $20 wine seems like a sell out.  when did we go from being hip young things that went adventuring through the suburbs barefoot and boozed?  this playing "grown-up", the domestic-ness; the comfort- makes me edgy.  want to go skim stones?

grrlfriends

my girlfriends are the sort of girls that drink a lot.  and we all get obsessive over cheese.  and politics.  and pretty things.  we believe in equality and we like to bake cakes.  we don't shop together.  but, we do talk about sex; and have been known to drink cosmos.

weekender

cocktails.  hipster art gallery openings.  picnics and frisbee and hanging out smoking up.  80s cover bands and dancing to 99 luftballons whilst drinking martinis out of rock glasses.  kebabs at the townhall with a scottish boy at 4 in the morning.  big ethiopian dinner and plenty of savvy blanc.  sleep.

barack obama

when barack obama was inaugurated I was drunk.  I was lying on the couch at my bartender's place.  I was so stoned I could hardly keep my eyes open to watch the tv.  but his words permeated my dreams, and when i walked home at dawn, i felt pretty hopeful.

to sydney

i pack my suitcase and run away.  and on ari's couch in a pair of chloe heels, a dash of lipstick and a big glass of wine nothing much matters.  we will go out.  and drink.  and flirt.  remember how to be cute.  then run away again, back to home.