tales from an ordinary world

2000-04-01

When I die, I want my ashes scattered over a road somewhere, to be picked up in the wheels of cars and scattered across the country - the suburbs, the Dandenongs, the Great Ocean Road, Chapel St, the Casino carpark, and wherever else they might take me.

2000-04-02

Sometimes there just isn't enough to do on a Sunday evening...

2000-04-04

"If either one of us could drive
we could drive away
and the time of our lives
could begin today"
The Lucksmiths.

My head is spinning. Odd news is coming in from random friends, and for the first time in a while I almost got totally engrossed in some random work stuff. Strange things are afoot in the world, and it seems to be sending my brain off into the clouds. I feel like I need a day or two off to recover, but I know it just won't help - these rhythms always seem to sort themselves out in their own time, preferably without my interference.

In other, earlier times, life was uncomplicated. I wished for more Lego, train sets, or later on, nifty computer equipment. I didn't have many needs, because I just wasn't paying attention, I suppose.

I remember being in Sydney for a few days in August of 1992 with some uni friends. We got on a bus from the train station, and sat up the back watching the taxis swarm around the bus like angry bees. Home was a backpacker hostel in Kings Cross, a street or two away from the sleaze strip. In one of the nearby bars we played pool - one of the Daves and I held the table for what seemed like ages, by luck more than anything. Later that night I ended up helping to carry home one of my friends after she drank too much. The pharmacist around the corner was a Kiwi - I don't remember what we bought there but it cost "sux ninety-five, thunks". While sitting at a table waiting for our fish and chips one night, we took turns trying to throw the tear-off lid from a can into the can's hole. Somehow, I got it in on my first try. Walking along the street towards the hostel, I remember seeing a small poster or two advertising some club called Wig Out, that was being DJed by the now late Robert Racic. Most afternoons, I'd seek out a payphone in order to make the promised phone call to my girlfriend, although it seemed more like a chore than it should've. I called one or two other friends, just to say hi, and felt guilty that I enjoyed those phone calls more than the ones to my girlfriend. One morning I followed my friends - firstly to the DSS so they could pick up their dole cheques, and then to a comic shop. Outside the shop was a guy sitting on the pavement holding and ice cream container. He sat there, chanting "buskin' ... buskin' ... buskin' ... " and held out his container for money. At the hostel, most of us stayed in a huge dorm room downstairs, but when a few more friends turned up a day or two later, some of us moved into another room upstairs. In this room one night, as it rained, I stared alone out to the street, watching the people walking home with their red umbrellas and black suits. A Stephen Cummings song called "Uncrowned" repeated itself in my head and I found myself frozen solid, unable to move. I think I might've been holding my umbrella, too.

And it's something like that, in the moments before madness. Everything dissolves into helplessness as old memories mount an all-out attack, forcing you into submission. It's over. Come back home.

2000-04-07

The night consists of strange, unyielding hours. Messages are carried by the wind, but we rarely notice them as they obscure the starlight. Cars dart amongst the backstreets of Melbourne Town, carrying people to their friday night destinations. Radios receive the comforting sounds of companionship. Like spokes on a wheel, the train lines carry revellers towards the city centre. Elsewhere, lone figures roam suburbia, bracing themselves in the cold as they search for things we'll never quite understand.

I am needy.

We are all needy.

In the distance, a shooting star gasps its final firey breath of life into the atmosphere. The soundtrack begins.

I have a party to attend.

2000-04-10

"White collar hits motorway services
It's the Hip Priest"
The Fall

The latent intensity of last week seems to have calmed down, but now I can't sleep. 3am makes its aquaintance, twice in a row now, and it slaps me around the head for a good hour or so before the Sandman takes control for a couple more precious hours.

...later...

Well.

So things are still slightly odd, I suppose.

2000-04-12

"Come back from San Francisco
it can't be all that pretty
when all of New York City
misses you..."
The Magnetic Fields

The old ghostrider takes no prisoners, walking through the dimly lit carpark. A possum does a tightrope act along one of the cable TV wires nearby, its tail hanging vertically as it freezes and looks toward him - he points his fingers at it and clicks his tongue in response.

There's a dull tiredness in my body where a hangover ought to be, after yesterday's "we just released some software so let's party" barbeque. Gin and Tonics on the grass with too many cigarettes, in between my DJing duties.

I ought to concentrate more when I'm playing pool. So many distractions, so many ways to not give it my complete attention. I suppose if I cared more about winning, I'd be able to focus, to take the required time on those difficult shots. But it's just a way for me to unwind. It shouldn't have to matter.

Time for bed. My eyes ache as I try to draw out the messages being transmitted from within. I wish I understood them better. Sometimes I feel uncomfortable as they come out - they twist my body, my head - my vision blurs and my ears ring.

Current listening :

• In Reverse, by Matthew Sweet. Definitely a grower.

• This Nation's Saving Grace, by The Fall.

2000-04-13

I've seen some of the faces before, subtly different each time I see them - the headphone-induced narcosis that makes them stare dreamily off into space, the animated gestures when they're not alone, and the deer-caught-in-headlights look when the tram lurches or there's a loud noise nearby.

Enthusiasm is returning for certain things - I've started taking an interest in a few old projects I used to hang around before work got the better of me a year or two ago and I unsubscribed from most of my mailing lists in some kind of attempt to stem the constant flow of bits toward my head. It was driving me mad, and it had to stop. But now ? I think I can cope for a while.

Music. A friend told me how he was reading Nick Hornby's High Fidelity, and the thing that struck him was the "concept of making mix tapes and music as soundtracks for one's life". Yeah. That appealed to me too, when I read the book. And I suddenly remembered when I was at my high school reunion the other week, and a guy came up to me and said "I remember you 'cause you used to make all those mix tapes for me," and made some comment or other about it helping out at the time, I think in reference to teen angst problems or something like that. The guy's a minister now...

2000-04-14

Will you still need me when I'm 32 ?

2000-04-15

It's a bit like being able to hear music being played in another room. Faint sounds filter through, mostly bass, and you can feel it on the walls.

I'll never understand how ideas suddenly take form in my head. Without warning, they suddenly appear, while I'm standing outside, looking at the stars. I have to run inside and remember it somewhere else, before it fades

2000-04-16

Every now and then, you have to wonder what it is you'll be leaving behind. I'll be leaving behind a large collection of objects, but besides that, what ? A couple of sequences of bits on somebody's hard disk. My name in one or two pieces of software I made a vague effort in helping out with a long time ago. A photo in a highschool yearbook. But now ? Recently ?

Try number 6. Maybe that's it.

2000-04-18

The collective wisdom of a few friends reckon that in these photos I do indeed look like some HK actor or other called Wong Chau Sang. One of them said :

Ya! His most famous movie was a horror flick...featuring how he killed this restaurant owner and hiw whole family and made them into 'Cha Siu Bao' (roast pork buns) hehehe!!

How odd.

2000-04-19

"have you ever seen Sydney from a 727 at night ?"
Paul Kelly

So I was bored, and I bought a Brian Jonestown Massacre cd on the way home as a random purchase. The guy seems kinda Dave Graneyish, only more...well...American.

I'm tired. I haven't thought about Easter. I should've planned something.

2000-04-22

We slept in, did a bit of shopping, and watched Taxi Driver on DVD. It's a lo-vibe weekend but I don't think I could manage much more than this. Too much time in supermarkets reminds you of your status as a Consumer. All these things we need in order to continue our existence. We feel like a sham for buying so much stuff, but we can't help ourselves. "Maybe next time..."

A car with a license plate saying "GRMRPR" drove past us this evening, which I suppose constitutes a brush with death.

2000-04-23

On an Easter Sunday, plenty of people have nothing better to do than hop down to the swap meet and buy a few more computer bits. A 500MHz K6-2 CPU for just over a hundred bucks (I had a K6-2/350 until now, and to be honest I can't tell the difference anyway, but it says it's faster when it boots so it must be true). Some USB ports that actually work with my motherboard. Stuff like that. Mavis got another cover for her tiny phone. I bought a faster modem for her computer. The new Elliott Smith CD was out. What else was there to do, anyway ?

2000-04-24

"So", they kept asking me at the party in that non-committal conversational tone, "what've you been doing with your easter break ?"

"Slept."

And I have been. I should have tried to remember my dreams - I know I had some, but the only bits that stuck seemed just a little too silly to be useful.

2000-04-25

We ventured into the Gilded Palace of Sin to watch a film - I've generally tried to avoid the casino where possible, but such gentle protest seems more and more feeble over the years. Perhaps it's time to find other things to feel bad about ? Or is my moral compass spinning slowly, endlessly ?

2000-04-27

"The kind of memories
that turn your bones to glass"
Smog.

I'd feel better if I felt more capable of living up to other people's ideals. Now and then I get reminded of how I couldn't really do that, and I can't help wondering about the future.

There are more thoughts in my head, but they'll only be misinterpreted if I turn them into words. I really hate it when that happens.

2000-04-29

% goofey -s modestyb
Enter your message: (blank line or ^D to end, ~h for help)
> every piece of technology i touch this weekend breaks.
> my camera wouldn't work when i was in the city with ana
> (although it seemed ok when i tried it at home this evening)
> i installed win2000 last night and discovered that
> a) the backup of all my windows files didn't work
>    (not a huge tragedy, just lots of stuff to download again)
> b) the video drivers don't work (from the win2k cd and the manufacturer's
>    website), and i can't find the cd that came with the video card
> the mouse started acting weird on me in linux, too
> then i got to mavis' place after dinner and housemate calls to say
> the gateway box rebooted and now it can't see the network.
> 
> plus. halfway through typing this, my ssh session froze.
> it's all so stupid it's funny :)
Message sent to  'modestyb' at 1 location!

2000-04-30

We were driving up Dandenong Road. "Hercules painting service", said the sign. A small hercules doll was attached to the roof, waving an Australian flag. There wasn't much need of that since the car was a Holden Kingswood, the legendary vehicle of 1970's Australia. I remember riding in other people's Kingswoods back then - the shape of steering wheel, the vinyl seats, and the general feeling that you were riding in the car that made Australia great. Well. Not that I'd really know it to be true or anything, but it's easy to fall for that kind of stuff when you're young.