My life has not been extraordinary. I have not suffered outside the realms of the normal human experience. I have only been confronted by grief and loss as we all have or will, and I do not carry heartache with me. Instead, I keep it in a box on my bookshelf, and sometimes late at night when the window is open and the world has stopped its noises I open it. In the moonlight it shines. I cry and this is precious. Continue reading
pt 1 /- Dirrty 2002 2am
zips red and white jacket motorbike
continues beyond edges
if you can’t trust me who can you trust
but doesn’t it always
you don’t know what’s happening out here beyond the screen. beyond the walls you deserve to be happy. you deserve to be free of
trust me, rides motorbike thru juggalo crowd
if u don’t, also order water
close-up of Redman’s teeth, but seriously though
steamy shower in rainforest
cream beige lip-gloss, ornate gold labret, ornate gold nose stud, black eyes, because you’re worth it
then u should’ve put a fire whirl on it
a chainlink fence on fence on fence on fire
she pops out of the cage, no one talks to her, about how the casino burns to the ground, every fucking hour on the hour.
face so foundation it’s butter
leeches: inner thighs
scented bin liners
& she’s still inside u
scented panty liners
red with an “X” on the back, chaps & smoking is still
moss inside, slashes in the ground, hair so black it’s white;
moist an optical illusion in the centre of the ring, which is square
wet draws u
anime off switch
generous to reader by believing that they can deal with it, whatever that is
one nostril blocked
a real page turner
add someone on facebook
that’s enough now i started writing again
France is a cold, proud place. In winter, the snow is brittle and grimy, white like bone. The people seem equally cold-blooded. They walk through biting gales of wind with pink lips, blue veins and hearts full of contempt. Continue reading
I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I’ve decided to delete the history of us on Facebook. Before I unfriended you the other night, I went to your profile and clicked the ‘see friendship’ button. It told me that we became Facebook friends on a Sunday in March 2011. Continue reading
I haven’t done a hard day’s work in over five years. Not since I walked out of my last shift at Subway Indooroopilly into the pub, asking my coworker to tell the boss in the morning that I had called the store and quit. As I drank that night I promised myself that I wouldn’t be a cog in someone else’s machine again. I owned myself and if I fucked up then it was all on me. I ended up fucking up a lot.
Someone has stuck a sanitary pad to the inside of the stall door. It’s raining hard outside. I stand back from the toilet, my feet shoulder width apart, to avoid stepping in the puddle of piss. Someone has stuck a pad to the inside of the door, but all I can think about is how I don’t want to move house. The band is getting ready to start. I can hear the tentative twangs and booms of the guitars and bass being taken up through the walls of the toilet. I wash my hands.
In the morning I woke up and looked at tweets on my phone while lying in bed. One tweet I looked at was by Tao Lin, who was in Australia for the Brisbane, Sydney and Melbourne Writer’s Festivals. Tao Lin’s tweet said, does anyone in Brisbane have marijuana firstname.lastname@example.org. I copied the email address email@example.com and wrote Tao Lin an email.
Kate Zahnleiter was raised by a single working mother and a television. She writes that “not a day goes by in which I’m unable to relate something which occurs in real life back to an episode of something I watched as a child, teenager or young adult.” In Life and My Box, Kate shares the lessons she has learned from TV.
When I drove to my grandfather’s funeral I was almost stopped by the police. I had been driving the stretch of Pacific Highway between Brisbane and the Gold Coast twenty kilometres over the speed limit, partly because I was running late, and partly because I was twenty years old and a terrible driver. Continue reading
On Sunday I got high and went to the local swimming pool. The pool is small and heritage listed, surrounded by wooden bathing huts. There is no diving allowed and the deep end isn’t very deep. The only other people using the pool were adults taking part in a learn-to-swim class. Continue reading