Saturday, August 17, 2019

Lovely Day

It was a beautiful spring day. Winter is on its way out. The mornings are brighter and lighter, that makes them feel busier, even if they aren't. I think we all blossom when the light is plentiful, when the dark lifts. The sun shone today and the sky was blue. I wore a t-shirt for the first time in weeks. Light and the sun makes us happier. Smile. Let the light in.

Tuesday, August 13, 2019


My best friend left me, does that say he wasn't a best friend at all? Because, surely, a best friend would never leave you, they'd be by your side until the end. That must be true? That is what clarifies the 'best' in best friend. A best friend would never leave you.

I feel let down. I now have to go through life without a best friend. I have to head towards old age without the guy who understood me the best, standing next to me, supporting me when I am right, telling me quietly when I am wrong, carrying his share our collective history with him, as I carry my share. I now have to go it alone.

Nobody to say to, remember when we did whatever, or so and so did that, or whoever failed at that?

Remember when?

I remember too?

It went like this.

No, it went like that.

Really, like that?

Yes, yes, just like that.

You know, I think you are right.

What happened when?

This is what happened.

Oh, yes, so it did.

Now that is all gone. He carried more than half of our collected history, so more than half has gone, because our shared memories bought us to life. Our shared memories are more than the sum of their parts, they bought life, and pizzazz, and brightness, and truth to the memories being remembered.

You left me before you joined Facebook, funny to think now that there was a life before Facebook, but that was where you left me, before you joined up. And you would have loved Facebook, it was designed just with you in mind. All that time on your hands, to chat and put your opinions out there for everyone to see, you would have loved it. And you just missed it. Is that what they mean by sliding doors moments? Is that what they mean?

You were so strong and vital and unique, you would have owned social media, but you didn't make it, blinking out just as social media blinked into life.

We could have had such fun, so much more fun, but no, it wasn't to be. You didn't hold up your side of this bargain we call life. You were supposed to be here still, but you are not.

I'd love to see you again, even just once, to explain everything that has happened. I'd love to see the look on your face, and hear your take on it all. The smartest man I ever knew.

The smartest men I’ve ever known? One is dead, one is insane, and one moved far, far away. I’m getting short on smart friends. And you were possibly the smartest.

We laughed, we played, we partied, we schemed, we gossiped, we played tricks, we were mean just to amuse each other. We dreamed. We were going to write our lives together. We had fun, more fun than most people were ever allowed to have, we always thought. So much fun.

Gone. Like the nights I went to the Camberwell library with my dad. Gone. Like holidays at the sea water skiing. Gone. Like happy school days. Gone, gone, gone. Like Oscar my dog. Gone. Like our youth. Gone.

You went and left me. I found a new love, you would like him. You never met him. You and Sam. Sam would like you. Never to meet, even if Sam and I live until we are 100 years old. 120. 130. You are never coming back. You two are never going to meet.

I miss you every day.

Saturday, August 10, 2019

Global Warming

I just got our first load of fire wood delivered for the year. Usually, by now, we'd be having our second ton of fire wood delivered for the winter.

Sure, we had some left over from last year, but that was only the back of a hatchback's worth. There was a shortage at the end of last year and we couldn't get the usual delivery, so I bought $50 worth from Thomastown, and we had a small pile left over from that. We still have some of that left now, we are not completely out, in fact, we'd probably had enough to get through to the end of this winter.

But now we have a full delivery setting us up for next winter, which will have dried out nicely by then. In fact, judging by this year, the delivery we got today may last us for a couple of years, if global warming keeps up its cracking pace. (cross your fingers)

We'd normally be having a fire every night, Melbourne winter's being what they are, but we haven't had that. We haven't even burnt through what we had left over from last year, as I said. There have been many fireless nights around the teli.

We haven't had a fire every night of winter, which is the norm, and that is a first for us, unheard of for Melbourne. Ask someone from Sydney? (Whining fucken Sydneysiders) So, this winter is the warmest we've had, I don't have to wait for the inevitable post mortem to be released to know that.

And kudos to the wood guys. It was pouring with rain at the time they were meant to be delivering, and they called and said they’d be arriving in 10 minutes with the wood. I mean, it was belting down. It had stopped raining by the time he got here, as it turned out.

A new blonde boy was the driver, I hadn’t seen him before. A big solid 20 something year old. Cute, beard, a bit of a snowflake on the quiet. My next door neighbour cracked a joke as he was backing up the ute. He wanted to be offended, thought it was a quip about his driving. (You know that equates to dick size, or something) I assured him it was not something with which to get offended, and he relaxed. He had a sweet laugh. He seemed like a nice guy. I don’t know what the angst was all about.

But I digress. Not even a full delivery of fire wood burnt this year. It is unheard of.

Friday, August 09, 2019

Thursday, August 08, 2019


That concept of never seeing someone ever again after they die is a really hard idea to grasp. Gone. Forever. It is like visualising infinity. Or understanding the distance to Pluto.



As long as you may live.

Time keeps ticking. Days keep passing. Years keep ending. Decades keep disappearing. Centuries roll over. Millenia change. The earth keeps spinning silently in space.

No wonder people invented supernatural beings and myths and legends and gods and monsters, to fill in the gaps in their understanding, to explain truths to huge to grasp.

It has to be something super natural, because it is beyond our comprehension.

And 2000 years ago, one could understand why we did that, especially. We were all illiterate and ignorant back then, grappling with concepts even the most learned can’t process now.

It is mind boggling, sure.

However, how do people still choose illiterate cave dwelling ignorance over fact and science by which to live their lives today.

The last state in Australia is in the middle of legalising abortion, and the usual religious nutjobs have oozed out of the wood work to try and stop the process by any means, lie, with whatever they can. (Their delusion is powerful)

The concept is very simple, if you don't believe in abortion don't have one. It really is that simple. But what makes these people believe they can impose their beliefs on everyone else. Yeah, I don’ know. I’m guessing that they have such a tenuous hold on their (what are nonsensical, after all) religious beliefs, that they need to make others, at least appear to, believe their nonsense to bolster their own beliefs.

It's not 2CE any more people. You don't need your gods any more, let them go, they are redundant. And those people who may seek an abortion in the future don't care what you think. Not a wit. You are just making a nuisance of yourselves, like eczema, or blowflies.

Wednesday, August 07, 2019

Tuesday, August 06, 2019

Newspaper headline, Annie Called Police 19 Times Before She Stabbed Her Husband, Now She Is Facing Jail

Annie stands by the telephone table, receiver between her head and her shoulder. She jabs at the buttons on the phone with her finger as she dials the number.

There is a moaning sound.

(Pan back.) There is a man hog tied in front of the couch.

"Okay, okay, I'm up to number 18," says Annie. She jabs at the buttons with her chubby fingers again. “There, number er 19. Still no answer." She shrugs. She can feel her eyes open really wide. She exhales so seriously it nearly hurts.

She grabs a 30 centimetre knife from the couch.

"Number 19," she says. "Number 19, you know what that means," she repeats. The man starts to moan more loudly, more desperately. “There is nothing left to do.” She moves closer to the tied body. “It is beyond my control.” He moans more loudly. Annie brings the knife back level with her shoulder. “I’ve got to do it.” Annie plunges the knife through the man's back. He stops moaning instantly, there is a rushing sound of air. “I had to do it.” He makes a faint gurgling sound, momentarily. Then there is silence.

Annie lets go of the knife.