I Am Consumed
I am a cold cup of Nescafe Gold, without sugar or milk
I am a pack of Marlboro Lights, with a cigarette for two
I am a pair of Colorado's who had seen better days years ago
I am a Country Road wallet, full of receipts and little else
I am a Visa card standing on the brink of being maxed out
You Know
I know it's different now,
That it's been too long.
You know that I was surprised,
And that I love your smile.
I know that I can still fall,
When the right stars are aligned.
You know that I love that song,
And hearing you sing.
I know that there is nothing,
Nothing to hope for.
You know that I have everything,
Everything that I could hope for.
I know that you know.
That you know,
That I know.
I know it's different now,
That it's been too long.
You know that I was surprised,
And that I love your smile.
I know that I can still fall,
When the right stars are aligned.
You know that I love that song,
And hearing you sing.
I know that there is nothing,
Nothing to hope for.
You know that I have everything,
Everything that I could hope for.
I know that you know.
That you know,
That I know.
You're Laughing
D and I went to see Show Us Your Roots last night -a multicultural stand-up comedy show with racial stereotypes as its foundation.
Hmmm... stereotypes.
And, yes, it was really good.
I'm well aware that prejudice is not cool, so I've turned myself into a great closet racist - only really showing my true colours when wogs aren't around. That's right boys, yulla habibi, Bankstown, GTS bro, subwoofa... etc.
So it was a strange feeling being surrounded by so many that were laughing at, um, themselves, with me.
In turn, I couldn't help but laugh a little more than normal.
Yes, I am for serious.
D and I went to see Show Us Your Roots last night -a multicultural stand-up comedy show with racial stereotypes as its foundation.
Hmmm... stereotypes.
And, yes, it was really good.
I'm well aware that prejudice is not cool, so I've turned myself into a great closet racist - only really showing my true colours when wogs aren't around. That's right boys, yulla habibi, Bankstown, GTS bro, subwoofa... etc.
So it was a strange feeling being surrounded by so many that were laughing at, um, themselves, with me.
In turn, I couldn't help but laugh a little more than normal.
Yes, I am for serious.
Groupie
The blood bank across the road had a parked van. On the left hand-side there is the message: Your Group Can Save Lives. Once the sliding door was open, though, the message changes to: Your Groupie - not unlike a Mad fold-in.
Yes, I have a feeble mind but there is an abundance of entertainment that goes along with it.
Now if only I could work on ignorance to add some bliss to this life.
The blood bank across the road had a parked van. On the left hand-side there is the message: Your Group Can Save Lives. Once the sliding door was open, though, the message changes to: Your Groupie - not unlike a Mad fold-in.
Yes, I have a feeble mind but there is an abundance of entertainment that goes along with it.
Now if only I could work on ignorance to add some bliss to this life.
Thank You
I'm too happy and exicted to blog, but I need to make a semi-permanent entry somewhere to remind myself that there are times like these.
Thank you to g0nk and Robbie for the bidding and the guitar, respectively. Because of you, I'm no longer an ebay virgin - I'm now a very happy chappy with a 6-month old Ibanez GRX40, purchased at a bargain price.
Thank you to Arron, Mooka, Peter and George for being top blokes. I have now secured a place that I love, in a lively and convenient suburb, with good friends, for a decent price. I can almost taste the freedom and overdue bill notices coming.
Thank you to Star City for $50.
And that's about it, really.
I'm too happy and exicted to blog, but I need to make a semi-permanent entry somewhere to remind myself that there are times like these.
Thank you to g0nk and Robbie for the bidding and the guitar, respectively. Because of you, I'm no longer an ebay virgin - I'm now a very happy chappy with a 6-month old Ibanez GRX40, purchased at a bargain price.
Thank you to Arron, Mooka, Peter and George for being top blokes. I have now secured a place that I love, in a lively and convenient suburb, with good friends, for a decent price. I can almost taste the freedom and overdue bill notices coming.
Thank you to Star City for $50.
And that's about it, really.
Timothy Hughley
The Thursday night crowd of Pitt Street mall was smaller than usual as the winter air swept through the almost empty thoroughfare, encouraging would-be shoppers to retire to their warm homes. She and I sat on one of the few clean benches with a slight hesitation. The bench had a dubious appearance I can only describe as being wet-but-dry, as opposed to the wet-but-wet look most of the other benches were sporting - it's as if they had been lacquered and finished with the latest hair product for fully sick bro's.
She and I took turns in breaking the comfortable silence between us, striking such sure-fire conversational Jiffy's as 'so, how was your weekend?', 'did you see so-and-so on the weekend?' and 'do you have any plans for the weekend?'. In hindsight, I'm still confused as to why we felt the need to explore such empty banter when we're capable of a slow-burning and engaging talk without effort.
The traffic around us eased, and in the background a saxophone started playing. Its voice resonated around the empty plaza - whispering deep thoughts, and climbing to a quivering crescendo with ecstatic frenzy. It spoke to the city night with passion and emotion as strong as love, committed to explore every note on all it was thinking and feeling.
With a fist full of silver and gold I approached the saxophonist, but he walked away. I followed him to the payphone, and extended my empty hand.
Hi, my name is Mario.
Hey man, how you doing? Timothy
I'm sorry about all this loose change, but I just wanted to tell you I enjoyed that.
Thanks man.
Do you play at any clubs?...
She and I stood there, listening to what he had to say and taking turns in asking questions until it was time for him to depart. Of all the short stories and punch-lines he threw, sadly, I could only recall one - "I wear the pants around the house, but we both know that she is the belt". I repeated the sentence in my head and found myself nodding in agreement, even though it wasn't true in my case. Later, she would tell me that she found him to be good looking and charming. I would tell her I found him to be extremely talented and dreamy, and that I wished I possessed all four qualities.
Sometimes I think it's strange, as was the case tonight, that whenever she and I are together, strangers would mistake us for a couple - it's as if they see something that we couldn't. We walked back to our bench, lit another cigarette, and for the next hour she and I stared down the walkway and conversed into the night as if we were deranged and alone.
The Thursday night crowd of Pitt Street mall was smaller than usual as the winter air swept through the almost empty thoroughfare, encouraging would-be shoppers to retire to their warm homes. She and I sat on one of the few clean benches with a slight hesitation. The bench had a dubious appearance I can only describe as being wet-but-dry, as opposed to the wet-but-wet look most of the other benches were sporting - it's as if they had been lacquered and finished with the latest hair product for fully sick bro's.
She and I took turns in breaking the comfortable silence between us, striking such sure-fire conversational Jiffy's as 'so, how was your weekend?', 'did you see so-and-so on the weekend?' and 'do you have any plans for the weekend?'. In hindsight, I'm still confused as to why we felt the need to explore such empty banter when we're capable of a slow-burning and engaging talk without effort.
The traffic around us eased, and in the background a saxophone started playing. Its voice resonated around the empty plaza - whispering deep thoughts, and climbing to a quivering crescendo with ecstatic frenzy. It spoke to the city night with passion and emotion as strong as love, committed to explore every note on all it was thinking and feeling.
With a fist full of silver and gold I approached the saxophonist, but he walked away. I followed him to the payphone, and extended my empty hand.
Hi, my name is Mario.
Hey man, how you doing? Timothy
I'm sorry about all this loose change, but I just wanted to tell you I enjoyed that.
Thanks man.
Do you play at any clubs?...
She and I stood there, listening to what he had to say and taking turns in asking questions until it was time for him to depart. Of all the short stories and punch-lines he threw, sadly, I could only recall one - "I wear the pants around the house, but we both know that she is the belt". I repeated the sentence in my head and found myself nodding in agreement, even though it wasn't true in my case. Later, she would tell me that she found him to be good looking and charming. I would tell her I found him to be extremely talented and dreamy, and that I wished I possessed all four qualities.
Sometimes I think it's strange, as was the case tonight, that whenever she and I are together, strangers would mistake us for a couple - it's as if they see something that we couldn't. We walked back to our bench, lit another cigarette, and for the next hour she and I stared down the walkway and conversed into the night as if we were deranged and alone.
Yellow Squares
My doings are just a collection of post-it notes, cluttering scraps of past reminders, struggling to hold on for longer than a fortnight.
As I take a few down, I'd like to transfer them onto blogger before they escape my feeble memory:
* 16/4 - John Mayer! Newcastle...
* 17/4 - 18/4 - Blue Mountains with Duong! (Never, ever forget the crappy Thai restaurant in Katoomba)
* Easter Sunday - Monday LAN - Gonk vs Marz for the It's-time-to-duel belt
And sadly, that's as far back as my post-it notes are taking me.
Maybe one day I'll learn to catch and remember the essence of the moment, outside the confines of yellow squares.
My doings are just a collection of post-it notes, cluttering scraps of past reminders, struggling to hold on for longer than a fortnight.
As I take a few down, I'd like to transfer them onto blogger before they escape my feeble memory:
* 16/4 - John Mayer! Newcastle...
* 17/4 - 18/4 - Blue Mountains with Duong! (Never, ever forget the crappy Thai restaurant in Katoomba)
* Easter Sunday - Monday LAN - Gonk vs Marz for the It's-time-to-duel belt
And sadly, that's as far back as my post-it notes are taking me.
Maybe one day I'll learn to catch and remember the essence of the moment, outside the confines of yellow squares.
La Cienega Just Smiled
And I hold you close
In the back of my mind
Feels so good
But damn it makes me hurt
And I'm too scared to know
How I feel about you now
La cienega just smiled
See ya around
And I hold you close
In the back of my mind
And raise my glass
'Cause either way
I'm dead
Neither of you really help me
To sleep anymore
One breaks my body
And the other breaks my soul
La cienega just smiles
As it waves goodbye
And I hold you close
In the back of my mind
Feels so good
But damn it makes me hurt
And I'm too scared to know
How I feel about you now
La cienega just smiled
See ya around
And I hold you close
In the back of my mind
And raise my glass
'Cause either way
I'm dead
Neither of you really help me
To sleep anymore
One breaks my body
And the other breaks my soul
La cienega just smiles
As it waves goodbye
Tuesdays With Marzie
Yesterday I touched on the world of politics with Jerry, the cab driver. It's so refreshing to find a cab driver with something worthwhile to say, who was willing to talk, without having to try - it was much like an e-chat, but with and without substance.
Yesterday I sat through a two hour kareoke session without a drink, a mic or even a cigarette in my hand. Weird. Enough said.
Yesterday I worked my first thirteen-hour day, wired on V's, Milo Bars and Flat White's. I hope my leg will stop shaking before the weekend comes.
Today, I'm trying to remember what I did with yesterday.
Yesterday I touched on the world of politics with Jerry, the cab driver. It's so refreshing to find a cab driver with something worthwhile to say, who was willing to talk, without having to try - it was much like an e-chat, but with and without substance.
Yesterday I sat through a two hour kareoke session without a drink, a mic or even a cigarette in my hand. Weird. Enough said.
Yesterday I worked my first thirteen-hour day, wired on V's, Milo Bars and Flat White's. I hope my leg will stop shaking before the weekend comes.
Today, I'm trying to remember what I did with yesterday.
Vic On The Park
To Josh
Thanks for the concert last night, I had a wonderful time. I've placed your CD at the top of my stack and plan to give it a thorough hearing this upcoming week whilst I commute between home and work.
Although I got to shake your hand and thank you, I felt like I had let something slip. (In hindsight, that previous sentence sounds so wrong.) It had formulated on the drive home when I was replaying the scenario in my head...
I'd like to tell you that I'm very impressed that you'd held a free concert, performed passionately for an intimate gathering and were happy to mingle with every last fan at the bar. It's quite a respectable way of building a fan base that many people with a single on the charts wouldn't do.
Once again, thanks.
Mario
To Josh
Thanks for the concert last night, I had a wonderful time. I've placed your CD at the top of my stack and plan to give it a thorough hearing this upcoming week whilst I commute between home and work.
Although I got to shake your hand and thank you, I felt like I had let something slip. (In hindsight, that previous sentence sounds so wrong.) It had formulated on the drive home when I was replaying the scenario in my head...
I'd like to tell you that I'm very impressed that you'd held a free concert, performed passionately for an intimate gathering and were happy to mingle with every last fan at the bar. It's quite a respectable way of building a fan base that many people with a single on the charts wouldn't do.
Once again, thanks.
Mario
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