thinking of thinking

Everyone Starts to Close In

I am thinking of thinking more. Today's weather - a chill setting in across sharp late-summer sunlight - had me remembering other times when I had stood at the crossing on city rd, barely watching the speeding traffic. It often seems to me, in reflective moments, that our whole lives are distraction. Distraction from bordom, from the process of aging, from the passing of days into nights and summers into winters.

everyone starts to close in. there are less club nights and regular ones become quieter, more subdued. but party girls still roam the city in little dresses, wrapped tight in big furry coats, waiting for love - or a little taste.

couples get fatter and sleep more but have less sex. the music gets darker and deeper and only the true believers are to be found pumping and throbbing beneath the ground, scurrying like roaches when the clubs close and the heat wears off. we all grow smaller, close in, make new internal worlds not visable to the outside. we grow murky. we coocoon ourselves.

I never close in. I resist the change of season, resent it. I push out. even harder in the cold. I hate everyone and everything for being quiter and more subdued. I hate the winter for being like sleep, like death.

This Year I Resolve

I am thinking of thinking more. learning to enjoy the quiet, the nights at home, when no one comes to call and I amuse myself. becoming more self-sufficient. this year i resolve to enjoy the winter, and not just for the fashion.

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In Other News

Jorja and I are going to Luna Park tomorrow, I am so excited.

not for some time...

Hello anyone

It has been a long few weeks of too many pills and too much little powder and lots of hard work. Manacle is the best and worst job I've ever had. It lifts me up to drop me on my arse again. During the week my life is calm and progressive and I feel so in control. Like I am growing up. Some readers may not know that I am now teaching (tutoring) two classes for a first year English subject. This is great and has done wonders for my organisational skills already. For some reason, once they start paying you, you feel as though you need to get properly organised - like with files and lables and everything done on time and put away properly, etc. At the same time as I am undergoing this change, my weekends (particularly over Mardi Gras) and decendign into a calculated madness:

MANACLE

Waking at 5.30 in the mornings and making my way to Taylor Square like a zombie. Dodging various vagrants and drunken-ramblers on and around Gilligan's Island. Having my brief morning chat with the guy in the seven 11 as I buy my daily breakfast drink. Running through the outside crowd and past whover may be pissing in the gutter to get downstairs into the dungeon where they heard the gays like cattle, to keep them out of the sun. And through the morning onto afternoon - g drops, tears, drunks, baggies and g viles, queens, pinned faggots, raver dykes, endless bottles of water...

stumbling out at the end of the day, feet burnin with pain, exhausted but wired, clutching an envelope full of money that will probably be spent on more drugs and more drinks. Coming home and wanting nothing more - than to get back there, to be in the managerie. The unconscious life. The life fantastic.

A double life. Unsustainable? I am curious as to when it will all fall down.