Some day one day we will meet again,
We'll cross paths on the street and as they do,
our necks turn to one and other in unison and our eyes widen in disbelief.
In this funny world, the way it is, our paths will cross in the most obscure way,
to us obscure but to the fates entertaining.
Then for that time we tangle our paths and dance around like old times,
before realising that we're all grown up and life is about moving forward.
Goodbye for now friend, because for sure in the future we will meet again.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Valentines Day
This is me in 20 years on valentines day.
Single,
Fat,
Lonely.
Personally, I'm not a fan of valentines day as you can tell.
Right now I listen to:
Jamie O'niel - All by myself
If you feel like me, you should also listen to this song.
Self pity is fairly comforting after a while.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Death
So yesterday I was on the tram going into the city,
On a tram so very full of life. At first when I got on it seemed like any other day. Any other Saturday spent waiting for the tram in the sun. People gathered at the same stop. Wondered where the tram was. And there was always that one person walking onto the road to see if they could see the tram snaking up the road in the distance.
Let's jump forward 10 minutes and I have just jumped on the tram, sitting near a family from the country. They laugh and the kids look out the window in awe at places unfamiliar to them, at a denser kind of living, less open space and strangled nature in a concrete paradise. I'm lulling in and out of a siesta style nap.
"Mum can I sit in a different spot?"
"No, just stay there."
"Can I sit with Dad?"
"Okay Okay but be careful when the tram is moving." The mum kind of laughs.
Then as the son begins to walk toward the father, the daughter who was initially sitting opposite the mother moves to sit next to her.
"Don't worry Mummy I will keep you company."
I watch and smile because it's just so innocent. I remember doing these things as a child. Wanting to move around all the time, wanting to please one parent, get on someone's good side. Watching this gives me a giddy feeling of nostalgia inside.
The tram moves on and then more people fill the tram. Two young men sit behind me, one of them looks like Pete Doherty and the other one I can't remember, to be honest I can't be bothered turning around so I just listen.
"Man look at that building it looks like a fucken shed!"
"Haha yeaah and its a bloody med insitute now right?"
"yeah that'd be right, just like Docklands 'prestigious living' now...no more E-raves"
"Oh reminds me my bro is playing at Saint Jeromes festival opening act, its gonna go off, you going?"
"Nah man I couldn't get tickets...fuckin shattered!"
"Damn...."
The Saint Jeromes festival is a famed music festival in a lane way in the city off Lonsdale Street. It is always packed full of people, big acts and names in a small space. One day only.
For the rest of the time its a quiet alley bar where you can lounge during the day and write, draw, smoke, drink, sip, socialise and do whatever you want. Its for the perpetually poor students of today to sit without hassle. To sit and enjoy life without a waiter asking you if you would 'like anything else'.
Eventually we pass Lonsdale street. Three people get on and sit in the same booth as me. Just coming from the ticken machine, they begin discussing something about their metcards and why their 2-hour tickets expire at 3am (it's only 8:00 now). They are from France....no maybe Canada. It is kind of hard to pinpoint.
The guy leans over and taps my knee "Excuse me do you know why our ticket expires at 3am?"
I had already prepared and answer just listening to their conversation but I pretend to be thinking it over in my mind.
"Oh yeah so I think it's after 6pm when you buy a 2-hour ticket, because its post peak time, its kind of a value purchase and it just expires at 3am."
"Ohhhh I see!" says one of the girls half smiling.
"And how do we get to Federation Square from here?"
"When we get to the end of Elizabeth St just turn left in Flinders St, you will see it."
"Thanks!"
"That's Okay"
I really like helping people, its a good feeling. Because the worst feeling is when you need help and no one can give it to you. Even the smallest cry for help could be for a problem that someone can not tackle on their own.
The tram gets to the end of Elizabeth St and the guy asks me again to confirm which way to go. I point left as we all pour out of the tram and I begin walking in that direction myself.
As I walk onto the footpath I see police standing around something. One policemen kneels down and holds a hand in his own. Checking a pulse?
I crane my neck to see what is happening and there is a man lying on the ground. No longer concious. I see people around are stopping and whispering to one and other.
I have to wait for my friend on the corner so I move further away and try not to look.
As a minutes pass and I check my phone after recieving a message saying "I'm 5 minutes away"
I begin to look again.
I see an ambulance roll down the street and squeeze into the lane where the man lies.
Its sirens aren't on.
The people get out of the ambulance almost casually.
They open the back and pull out some kits and a bag.
The workers check the man and then the other one checks him. They consult one and other. then they begin wrapping him up.
For a moment my mind doesn't register.
Death.
This man is dead.
This man has died.
Right here.
My neck prickles.
I look at the body. Something seems different.
Something is gone.
I feel I don't know what to think.
I can't think.
I'm just looking as they wrap the man and put him in a bag.
The police cordon off the area and begin asking people questions.
My friend arrives also looking at whats going on. He taps me gently on the shoulder and we begin walking, so do many other people. As we walk down the street and toward the cafe. I realise that life goes on, no matter what. For all of us it continues until one by one we dissapear.
On a tram so very full of life. At first when I got on it seemed like any other day. Any other Saturday spent waiting for the tram in the sun. People gathered at the same stop. Wondered where the tram was. And there was always that one person walking onto the road to see if they could see the tram snaking up the road in the distance.
Let's jump forward 10 minutes and I have just jumped on the tram, sitting near a family from the country. They laugh and the kids look out the window in awe at places unfamiliar to them, at a denser kind of living, less open space and strangled nature in a concrete paradise. I'm lulling in and out of a siesta style nap.
"Mum can I sit in a different spot?"
"No, just stay there."
"Can I sit with Dad?"
"Okay Okay but be careful when the tram is moving." The mum kind of laughs.
Then as the son begins to walk toward the father, the daughter who was initially sitting opposite the mother moves to sit next to her.
"Don't worry Mummy I will keep you company."
I watch and smile because it's just so innocent. I remember doing these things as a child. Wanting to move around all the time, wanting to please one parent, get on someone's good side. Watching this gives me a giddy feeling of nostalgia inside.
The tram moves on and then more people fill the tram. Two young men sit behind me, one of them looks like Pete Doherty and the other one I can't remember, to be honest I can't be bothered turning around so I just listen.
"Man look at that building it looks like a fucken shed!"
"Haha yeaah and its a bloody med insitute now right?"
"yeah that'd be right, just like Docklands 'prestigious living' now...no more E-raves"
"Oh reminds me my bro is playing at Saint Jeromes festival opening act, its gonna go off, you going?"
"Nah man I couldn't get tickets...fuckin shattered!"
"Damn...."
The Saint Jeromes festival is a famed music festival in a lane way in the city off Lonsdale Street. It is always packed full of people, big acts and names in a small space. One day only.
For the rest of the time its a quiet alley bar where you can lounge during the day and write, draw, smoke, drink, sip, socialise and do whatever you want. Its for the perpetually poor students of today to sit without hassle. To sit and enjoy life without a waiter asking you if you would 'like anything else'.
Eventually we pass Lonsdale street. Three people get on and sit in the same booth as me. Just coming from the ticken machine, they begin discussing something about their metcards and why their 2-hour tickets expire at 3am (it's only 8:00 now). They are from France....no maybe Canada. It is kind of hard to pinpoint.
The guy leans over and taps my knee "Excuse me do you know why our ticket expires at 3am?"
I had already prepared and answer just listening to their conversation but I pretend to be thinking it over in my mind.
"Oh yeah so I think it's after 6pm when you buy a 2-hour ticket, because its post peak time, its kind of a value purchase and it just expires at 3am."
"Ohhhh I see!" says one of the girls half smiling.
"And how do we get to Federation Square from here?"
"When we get to the end of Elizabeth St just turn left in Flinders St, you will see it."
"Thanks!"
"That's Okay"
I really like helping people, its a good feeling. Because the worst feeling is when you need help and no one can give it to you. Even the smallest cry for help could be for a problem that someone can not tackle on their own.
The tram gets to the end of Elizabeth St and the guy asks me again to confirm which way to go. I point left as we all pour out of the tram and I begin walking in that direction myself.
As I walk onto the footpath I see police standing around something. One policemen kneels down and holds a hand in his own. Checking a pulse?
I crane my neck to see what is happening and there is a man lying on the ground. No longer concious. I see people around are stopping and whispering to one and other.
I have to wait for my friend on the corner so I move further away and try not to look.
As a minutes pass and I check my phone after recieving a message saying "I'm 5 minutes away"
I begin to look again.
I see an ambulance roll down the street and squeeze into the lane where the man lies.
Its sirens aren't on.
The people get out of the ambulance almost casually.
They open the back and pull out some kits and a bag.
The workers check the man and then the other one checks him. They consult one and other. then they begin wrapping him up.
For a moment my mind doesn't register.
Death.
This man is dead.
This man has died.
Right here.
My neck prickles.
I look at the body. Something seems different.
Something is gone.
I feel I don't know what to think.
I can't think.
I'm just looking as they wrap the man and put him in a bag.
The police cordon off the area and begin asking people questions.
My friend arrives also looking at whats going on. He taps me gently on the shoulder and we begin walking, so do many other people. As we walk down the street and toward the cafe. I realise that life goes on, no matter what. For all of us it continues until one by one we dissapear.
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