Art Intimidating Life: The Ruins of my Mental Empire - Part Twenty Seven

i walk the cool shadows of a summer morning - my home town of melbourne is feeling more and more like home with each year i grow older and wiser and live in it - i wear my black jeans and my black tshirt and black sunglasses and walk past some people i know who are sitting in the sun eating breakfast and drinking coffee - i smile to the one of them that sees me, and she smiles back - i keep walking - past the denim shorts and pascal shirts that are accessorised with numerous access passes and id-cards - the lunch man prepares for a billion sandwiches - i imagine his thoughts and hear they are "fuckin' hell-hole" - he sells them for ten dollars each and becomes a multi-billionaire within a week - with his money he buys a billions lottery tickets and wins three million dollars and he finally finds his happiness - can't he see my boots? they've travelled the world man - and so i push on - an old friend of mine sees me on the train and says hello - and im happy to talk as we talk about the things we've done recently and the things we've missed out on because of the things that keep us busy - parties, and events, and beaches and time alone and concerts and sometimes lies - a man knocked at my door and asked if everything was ready and i told him it wasn't and never would be - i invited him inside and welcomed him to take a lie-down in my hammock, in an attempt to help him understand - but he simply feel asleep - i went through his wallet and discovered that his name was jorge and that he was a private investigator and had $18.25 - i took it and bought myself a vegetarian pizza requesting some chilli-flakes to be sprinkled over the top of it - when it was ready i noticed they'd forgotten the chilli-flakes but i let it fly and took it outside to eat in the park - i sat in a swing eating, careful not to drop any of the toppings onto my black shirt - some children arrived and waited for me to finish

tomorrow i will catch the same train i always usually catch each weekday morning - but tomorrow i will keep going and not stop and jump where i usually stop and jump off - and i won't be alone - and my bag will be a little bulkier with less cds in it, and more clothes and the same amount of books - i will catch the same train i always usually catch with the same faceless people who sit and play with their phones doing god knows what and/or listening to thoughtless disposable music while reading a book that could've been written by a millionaire - i will see the blind girl i see every morning - the blind girl who i've seen bumped and ignored as people find a seat so that they can sit down - i wonder if she can smell my deodorant and knows every time im around - i wonder if she can hear me looking out for her despite the fact she never seems uncomfortable or out of control, because i can taste the guilt for doing so - but tomorrow i will keep-on training and eventually fly myself to the centre of the existing space where i will stay with someone’s sister and boyfriend and hopefully spend some time sitting around looking at the place space is - not so much drinking, but guided - guided like the lost and delirious in search of the meaning of their own life, despite being the cause of their own death - such unwarranted love and care and attention makes it all so hard to allow myself to dissolve myself into this - after all, this is nothing but a continual search for something to look forward to

i have my concerns - it's been over a month now and i've been silent for most of that time - silent sitting in my corner watching these times reveal themselves us - watching my life become itself, and remove itself from me and any control i ever fought to cling to - im now beaten and i now almost always lose - i am content and have accepted this as being the rest of my life - but now i have the fear - it's been over a month now, and it grows on me like an alien-rust - i'm too proud to hide it

it first begun one weekend - usually i'd be eager to get up and out of bed - open the curtains and see how the sun and clouds are moving and how they make the trees and plants and flowers look on that given day - i'd poke and annoy her till she joined me in the courtyard to eat some cooked breakfast with me in the courtyard - i'd drink juice as she'd drink black-coffee - i'd play some music as i did the dishes and then we'd contemplate having a nap before lunch and before the afternoon appears through the open bedroom window - at lunch i'd drink a beer and play some more music before our friends came around and we all ate some wonderful yet simple food she'd cook for us all and we'd be so generous with drinks and the comfort of each and every one of our guests - making them laugh in such strange and unusual ways - we'd let them stay as long as they wanted - she'd usually say good night and go to bed earlier though, and the rest would be left for me to fuck up

i know that i am alone, and i know that we're all alone - any comfort we take in those around us is insubstantial - trivial - we're born alone, we're born as individuals, and we'll die alone and used up and wasted - so we live