skip to main |
skip to sidebar
i squeeze out of the booth - my arse almost brushing some bird’s focaccia- sorry sweetheart, it’s time for me to go - i let a middle aged woman walk on by, and i signal to the waitress behind her, someone’s daughter, to walk on by also - i can wait - i got no rush to bother me - she had a stack of plates in her arms, and a couple of half-complete breakfasts - those blueberry pancakes are filling man! — this cafe is crowded - the leaves are gold and orange and brown, and somewhere someone is stoking the fireplace - as i make my way to the door to take it outside, a little old lady notices my t-shirt and says “you’re not a bad-seed, you’re a gentleman” - thanks toots - someone out there finally gets me
this is the suburbs, and im a man of the streets - to know the streets in this city, in melbourne, you have to know the suburbs - this aint no new york attention span - this aint no cobbled laneway of prague - this is melbourne baby, and in melbourne the suburbs are king - the suburbs know the truth - boredom, tedium, repetition and routine - this saturday’s number one priority is groceries - chicken breasts on sale, orange juice and bar-be-que shapes - im talking about dave graney - im talking about the footy - it’s overcast and eighteen degrees and it’s quarter to four in the afternoon - welcome to melbourne
the best way to fully appreciate the suburbs, to full appreciate melbourne, is to hit the cinemas - check out some flicks - i go on week-nights exclusively, and i go alone mostly - a couple of stubbies of beer, nothing fancy and when they ask where i’d like to sit, i answer - away from everyone else - this usually generates a sly smile and a nod - i say thanks brother, and point to his chest - in the cinema, i’m alone - i read a couple of pages of the book my mother gave me for xmas in the dull red hum of pre-movie-cinema-lighting - eventually a coka-cola commercial portrays how much fun and freedom summer road-trips to the beach are when you’re naive - i dig the previews, and could watch two hours of them if they let me - just play them all - the movie is good, though being the only, and one and only, person in the cinema is a little distracting - i finally did it - a late night session at a suburban cinema on a tuesday night for a film that’s a little odd and been out for a month or so already - that’s all it took to get myself alone - twenty minutes in a young girl does the rounds and walks into the cinema with a torch, stands in the corner for twenty seconds, and walks out - just making sure im behaving myself - i feel like i should say hi, or wave, or something - but instead we both share the absurdity of the situation in our minds, and that’s enough for me
to truly understand and experience freedom, ride your bike late at night, a tuesday night, listening to some real nice music - ride your bike to your local suburban shopping centre and cruise alone down to the underground carpark - the smooth cool concrete - the fluorescent lights flick by in a steady beat and pattern as you glide on and weave through the thick pillars holding the whole set-up in place - you speed up and you slow down - it feels like this place goes on forever, and that you can move around it with such ease - it’s a smooth ride, and you’re flying man - that’s freedom - that’s living your life - that’s happiness - you’ve got nothing to do
i saw a man in an alley way - i stopped and watched him walk - simple cheap jeans - fleecy jumper - runners — it hit me pretty hard, that he was a person just as much as i am - he had a childhood, he had parents - he sleeps and eats and likes certain things and doesn’t like certain things - he has a sexual preference, or he doesn’t have one at all, or he is a sexual deviant - a fiend - he has a face that is completely unique and never seen before - he has a voice that is his own - he has a thought process, and his brain is processing his perceptions, right at this very moment - he has dreams, and his nightmares are fucking weird - he has a death, and i wonder how and when he will die - i wonder if he is afraid - i wonder how much money he has - i wonder if he has a sister, and i wonder if she’s good looking - i wonder where he is going, and how it came about that he is walking down this alley-way - i later find myself at home, sitting in a room in silence, staring blanking into a void, and i wonder what he is doing at this very moment
what am i doing?
what are you doing?
another second
minute
hour passes by
will this be the memory
i take with me to death?
will this be remembered?
how much of my life will be remembered?
how much of my life makes a difference?
can i just cut the rest of it out, and just live the bits and pieces that actually mean something?
just live the parts that will be remembered
where do all the forgotten moments go?
where do they end up, and who remembers them?
anyone?
if everything changes everything
i wonder how much of an affect this will have on people
am i changing the world, simply by living within it?
if i lock myself up in a room
with no windows
and do nothing inside
am i still a part of existence?
does the existence of the room change everything still?
who is that at the door?
