Today I worked at Pica. My shift started at 11 am. It took about an hour to get there. It’s in the Port Lands sorta area of Melbourne, just south of the CBD.
I really prefer work where I don’t have to get up early. Tomorrow the Jim’s Mowing shift starts at 7:30 so I’ll be up at 6 so that I can have breakfast and coffee.
The guys I was working with today were really nice. The boss guy is really upset that I’m leaving in a month. They keep talking about how I should stay and work for them. I don't they understand that I can’t stay, even if I wanted to. I have to leave. But it’s definitely flattering.
It makes me think that I’d like to do similar work in New Zealand. I really wanna work where I’m around girls my age. You don’t really get that with the labour jobs. It’s always guys.
Today is my second day of not drinking. It’s funny because today I could have gotten wasted for free if I’d wanted to. We were basically just moving cases of beer around. A lot of it was being thrown out because it was recently expired. One of the guys I was working with must’ve had like 8 beers while we were working. He just kept cracking them open. He was even taking beers that weren’t expired. The boss guy didn’t seem to mind.
They took me out to lunch and bought me a panini. I thought that was really nice. The boss guy sorta reminded me of David Brown from the Fox. Like David mixed with Jayme from next door in Toronto.
I feel like as I travel I meet different versions of the same people. Like similar people in different bodies.
It’s Sunday night. I’m sitting on the edge of my bed in Melbourne. I’m working tomorrow at PICA. It’s my second time working with them. It’s probably good experience.
I’ve been drinking so much lately. Almost everyday. So many cringy memories. Some fun moments, but most of it is just cringe.
I always seem to ramble about cringy things. Like trying to explain to everyone what the meaning of everything is. I become so cocky. I just feel like I have all the answers or something.
Maybe that’s not true actually. There’s moments that are fun for sure, but the whole thing is just insane. I’m completely destroying myself and my life. Everything that I care about quickly falls away. I just become perpetually hung over and tired and buzzed.
I really can’t believe I was sober for nearly 3 years. That feels like this amazing time that somehow got away from me.
I have some sort of gut feeling of the little things I’m supposed to do. The daily routines that are good. I used to run every morning. I used to write something and post it everyday. I don’t know if that stuff made me happier, but it did feel somehow right and like it was good for me in some larger way that I could just sense.
I’m gonna try and commit to writing everyday again. I want to post things again but I feel scared. I guess because it’s been so long.
Today, though, is day 1 of being sober from alcohol and weed.
The tiny house was just sitting there. So many kids threw rocks at the windows. Nobody respected the old thing.
The strongest of the kids was always getting laid.
I built the world just to see it end. It hurt me to do this. I have tried to come back again and again. I’m always met by some random opposition from the other side. Even if I didn’t burn, I’d still be disemboweled by the rebels.
The ship was installed with a navigation machine. It steered us into a cloud. We saw blues and greens swirling above the masts. The smell of sea entered our awareness. I coughed and laughed.
Mother Russia was ahead of us, just over the horizon. She signalled us forwards.
I saw an island full of birds. Millions of them. They flew through the darkness in slow motion.
I got drunk with the cabin crew. We played poker into the early morning hours. We ascended the steps. Everyone on the deck was dead. The gulls pecked at their eyes.
“What happened here?” I asked.
The sun set over Asia. We found our way into a great whirlpool. The continents battled in a great war. The land was burned. I watched my family burn.
The towers of New York were erected during the night. The sun rose and there was orange light. The streets below were blanketed in a type of darkness.
A cab pulled up to my office. I was whisked away. We entered the grid.
A yellow table cloth was laid out in the universe. I had been here before. Our taxi followed a straight path. We hurled through the cosmic grid for one million long and colourful years. The sun stayed just above my head. I was terrified.
The Gods were sat on their thrones. They watched us approach. I was sure that they would smile. I believed that they were related to me somehow.
The circus began to power on its lights. The shoplifters waited in the bushes. The rebels were behind the hill, oiling their gear. The Princes were in the ocean, swimming with their wives. The moon shone on all.
The tents were erected and allowed the European nations a place to rest. We ran inside and laughed like we were five.
We used hammers to win money and to knock out the teeth of the peasants. I thought I would pass out from over-stimulation.
I was flying over the ocean. The waves were blue and purple. I knew that the sun was in me. I had argued with priests for too long.
I set sail towards the centre of by being. I collapsed into a vortex of sand and ashes. Everything was begging and crying.
The gulls took control of the ship. We were steered back towards Greece. The hills were alive at night. The warriors played trumpets. They eagerly awaited our arrival. We would all be executed. We were all going to die.
I tried to take my life. I leapt from the ship and hit the ocean waves. The bubbles were around my face. I squeezed my cheeks.
I waited for my soulmate. She promised that she would meet me halfway. I sank into the darkness. Then it was dark and cold.
The storm destroyed Europe. I kept falling. I finally found a secret passage. I sank into it. A bomb exploded over the snow.
I died in the arms of my mother. I drank from the stream of my ancestors river. I was burned. I was buried. I was drowned in myth. I was erected five thousand years later. A red oak was burned for me.
My son was taken back to Egypt. He was placed atop a round beetle I was asked to call forth the seas and reinvest his spiritual power into the hearts of man. He was pleaded with. He ran away into a cave.
Beetle Pimp was blown apart by massive guns. He hit the ground rolling. His teeth were badly shattered. “Take away my pain,” whispered Beetle Pimp.
The village mothers came looking for their collective child. They searched the rivers. The scrounged through mud flaps. They dug up wooden carrots.
“Who was taken our trust?” Asked a peasant woman.
The Tsar descended from heaven atop a nude headmaster. “Taketh me into your ass,” ordered the spoilt Tsar.
The peasants could not trust. Not after what they had been forced to witness. The holy books marked this day in red letters. It was immortalized as ‘Deep Depression December First’.
My family found my writings. They laughed for a little while. Then they turned sour. They became angry. “He writes like a little beggar!” Screamed my makers. “His bold potential is left on the cutting room floor!” I tried to appeal. This proved distasteful in their minds. I was sent to my cell, naked and alone.
I get so fucking angry when I can’t spell properly. My poor fingers can’t keep up with my heavenly mind. It is fucking infuriating. I wish that I could just speak my words onto the page. Same with music. I hate being pulled out of my flow-state.
Everest is atop a lantern, which is inside the mouth of a dragon. The granite emerald tablets are scattered across the floor. Little kids were drowned in the waters.
The serfs were brutally beaten. The landowners began to allow their children to attend university. Everything changed after that.
Those rich families began to trade in armadillo meat. The powerful European continent was shaken to its core. Nothing would ever be the same…
A similar development was underway in America. A young man had walked into a trap. For this, there was no redemption. He was shuffled off to court. He was badly beaten by the big book of the law. The towns people had always said he was naughty.
The man, his name being Mack, was trolleyed off to prison. He was shown little compassion from his cell mates.
A beautiful Bluejay came to visit Mack one night. He whispered into Mack’s ear. Mack learned to float.
The sound of thieves filled the air. All around were flames. They’d broken into the pantry and grabbed the lettuce. I lay in bed, completely terrified. I dared not move a muscle. I wanted to die so that I could know God. I wanted to understand reality.
God came to me in a dream, in the form of a dove. He explained the the basics. That we are all connected. We are one. Reality is not the end, there is more. More than one could ever imagine. This is a temporary experience.
I still don’t understand why, though. Because I always hear people say that on the other side we already know everything. We are everything and we’ve been everything. So doesn’t that make learning irrelevant? They always say we come here to learn and to expand our consciousness. How can you do that if you’re already everything?
Tiny Tim was hiding beneath the floor boards. There were trolls in his house. He dared not move. He was shaking with fear.
“Where's the boy?” Asked one of the trolls. “I’m hungry! It’s time to eat!” “Maybe he crawled under the rug?” Replied a troll with a long nose. The trolls entered the living room. They destroyed everything and tore the walls down. “He’s gotta be here!” Tiny Tim felt a sneeze coming on. “Oh fuck me,” he whispered. “They’re gonna know I’m here!” Tiny Tim let out a horrendous sneeze. The entire house shook. The trolls raced towards the source of the sound. “Who’s there!” They demanded. “Leave me alone!” Begged Tiny Tim. “I’m just a young lad! I don’t want to be around you guys!” The trolls began ripping up the floor boards. They grabbed Tim by the ankles. The poor boy shrieked in horror. “Let me down!” The trolls took him over to the kitchen and chopped him up. They cooked a fine feast. They even followed one of Gordon Ramsay’s cooking tutorials on YouTube. “What a wonderful smell!” Squealed a troll. The hideous family started a fire in the backyard and enjoyed their feast. There was so much love.
The cattle had begun to crowd around the orb. The ball was glowing and emitting light. All the animals watched in awe. They started to grow spiritually.
Up in the clouds was a man with six toes. He was humming in the air. His colleagues were below on the ground. They were in the city streets, on their lunch break.
“What’s going on up there!?” Screamed the boss.
The man in the clouds just closed his eyes and went back to sleep. He was tired of having to explain everything.
