I cancelled some old accounts, not having looked in a while. It all felt completely wrong – I was invisible, an impostor in a world of people who seemed to know exactly what they wanted and how they’d get it. This is not my world. The weekends keep passing me by – I haven’t walked enough to walk this off yet. I’m still navigating by memory, not by sense. Memories are unreliable, memories can’t wait, I’ll never shake this curse if I can’t let it all go. »
Two guys chroming up the back of the tram. An old lady struggling with two bags of onions down Sydney Rd. Three girls swapping beauty tips outside a cafe. A book in a shop about sex and typography(?!). A car called UN1CRN. A girl with a Southern Cross ankle tattoo waiting to cross the street. »
lurking down below a bit stuck, this month dreaming of all sorts but feeling utterly powerless the joy of things has evaporated into smoke and repetition »
the music helps to walk a little faster but the feeling inside won’t change not yet uncertainty’s chained to my arms making my photographs a little blurrier than they ought to be by now. “it’s time” says the cold wind on my neck what has to come is coming but what needs doing still needs to be done »
we were here to go but time passed us by with a rush of cold air and a little sulphurous whiff so now we’re just here. maybe the ride down could be more fun if such were allowed. »