tales from an ordinary world

2003-05-10

I'd be a fool to suggest that I have the slightest idea of what's really going on right now. I've learnt a lot in the past week, but it's only made me realise how far away I am from a general sense of understanding the nature of things. There's a Four-X sign in sight of where I'm staying. A train line, a few bridges, and a pile of one-way streets. As an old friend used to say, "I'm a lonesome cowboy, so far from home." My boots have no spurs. I fight for love, not war. These are the days, the days, the days. Well. My stupidity, my mistakes, my failures, they're all there to see - it's hard to see past them but fuck, I'm trying, I'll give you that. I've walked into JB Hi Fi trying to buy Beck's Sea Change on two consecutive days, only to be stopped by other forces, but maybe tomorrow, maybe that'll be the day. Maybe that'll be the day that I die.

2003-05-12

I have a new backpack. It looks like the future, all moulded and sleek and minimally coloured. The brand name's done in a square, oblique and ultramodern typeface. It's got a million pockets inside. This is my holiday indulgence, my present to myself.

I have a new hat. It reminds me of Grant McLennan in the video for Cattle and Cane, but my memory may be faulty. This is my other present to myself, I suppose.

2003-05-27

It's always five minutes to midnight in the Bluestone - a desperate hour, perhaps - clutching at the last minutes of a dying day, hoping to turn it into something memorable. Or is it five minutes to midday ? Ceiling fans whirl lazily, pretending they're somewhere warm. Soft light and dark wood abound. The music rarely fits but it's only a background hum, masked by morning conversations and brass fittings. Coming here less often makes it seem more like home.