Info

by kilaheem

15 September 2013

Glasgow, Scotland.

Yesterday Tom and I caught the bus out to the country, there were lush green rocky hills covered in animal shit. Someone owned the land but there are no trespassing laws in Scotland. We were looking for magic mushrooms.

I stood on the perimeter walls and noticed a Ram had fallen into a narrow channel of water and died. I showed Tommy and he staggered over, slipping on some of the rotten remains and almost falling in. I started laughing, he was so drunk. “If A’m drankin I’m drankin ya knoo?” he said.

He insisted he could sell the rams head to a local pub for 30 quid and fished it out by the horns detaching it from a mass of bones and rippling wool. There was a lump of white matter at the base of the skull which was obviously brain and spinal contents. I imagined it to reek of high hell and Tom kicked it off with his boot. I was laughing uncontrollably like that felonious cartoon cat while picturing this unashamed drunk tramp trying to get on a bus swigging a bottle of wine and carrying a stinking rams head.
I encouraged him, I wanted him to make a scene, carrying on like he does, I wanted people to look at us because life is fucking boring.
I took a photo to capture the mild luncay on Tom’s face as he tried to stuff the rams head in a plastic bag which wouldn’t fit, he hid it in the bushes so noone would take it, covering it with leaves.

We found the Whiskey Distillery he was moaning on about and creeped out a few trail walkers. There were mushrooms all over the sloping pastures, I picked hundreds of them right out of horse shit and started eating them.

Tommy smoked another whole packet of my tobacco and I had to pay for his bus fare home after losing his ticket.
He repeatedly told me not to lose mine on the way here. I was a bit pissed with him as we stood in the bus doorway looking in his pockets detaining all of the passengers. “Nooh nooh don’t take this Australian’s money, I’ve got it, I swearr.”

Before we got on the bus I ate a whole tube of pringles and a packet of biscuits. Tom fell over backwards in the bus shelter darkness like a helpless 80 year old pensioner. I fucking laughed at him, he is so funny sometimes. I could see why he had so many eccentric friends and people liked him. But now he has flaps of skin hanging under his eyes, his face is always flushed and he repeats himself constantly. I find myself competing with tales of my own adventures, feeling dirty after each one.

I’d been learning to play guitar and Tom told me not to worry about the “Horse with no name Shit” and learn Nirvana. It fucking cut me because it was the first thing I’d learnt to play and I liked it.

 
At Karaoke later that night I wanted to sing something I knew and suggested to a mangled tom (who had been asked to sit down by the host before hurting someone) that I sing horse with no name. He screwed his shadowy face into a grey unshaven disgust and said Fook thaat as he turned away.
My chest and arms tingled as I pondered knocking him right off his stool onto the floor. He then spilled half a beer allover his brown bag and looked up in bewilderment. I laughed, I enjoyed it immensely.
KH
Tom if you read this your my hero.

Here’s some more stories with Tommy…..

Trainspotting (I’m in Scotland)
The Trap (Favourites)
Something in the way (Couldn’t leave Tom’s)

Inspiration for this post came from the recent development of a roll of film.

Being a pervert is easy.

I take a quick glance as a girl sits down near me on the train, she appears to look back, instant pleasant feelings, she has a glowing face with smooth olive skin, bright eyes, black ringlet hair and a thin frame.

I’m tempted to indulge in previous habits of analyzing available data to see if she is attracted to me.

But………

1. Now I have a girlfriend who is the best.

2. I used to be a pervert.

I think most men are perverts, am I right? Fucking ANIMALS more like it. And yes women can be single minded too. I used to watch porn and jerk off everyday, develop rapid fantasies about girls I just met and fall in love with checkout chicks. I was lonely, and even though I used to get casual sex from time to time and feel like a player, the loneliness would always return.

Slowly I started to hate the intoxicating lust I felt for women and their bodies and set about changing it.

The only way I can articulate the change is by becoming aware of what I don’t want to be and by disciplining myself not to let my mind wander into old undressing habits. I think the final catalyst was making a new female friend who I could see much valued our platonic connection, unfortunately I was calculating the whole time how I could make her fall for me and jerking off over her everynight. Didn’t matter if she had a boyfriend, if she was my best friend or even if she was 16 years old (I’m exaggerating for effect on the latter but I don’t think it would have been out of the question).

It troubled me profoundly and probably stemmed from the dynamics of my childhood, marketing and most certainly by our group at high school who ran a competition to see who could fuck the most girls.

Women somehow held the key to my self confidence and it’s all I thought about. I read books on how to pick up women and experimented with the techniques, exalting those around me with manicured looks and big statistics.

I knew it wasn’t right because I felt disgusting every time I hooked up with a stranger and I’d usually have to get drunk off the face of the earth to do it, dying a little death every time.

My aim became to be objective with the opposite sex, equal, not intimidated, not calculating and marginally disassociate sexual gratification with someone I’m not romantically involved in. Some have said it’s impossible, that it’s human nature to perve, each to their own and this is what works for me.

And it is, I have female friends who I can actually relax around because all that other shit that used to pressure my masculinity into believing I was a faggot because girls I spent time with weren’t lining up for me like Luke the great silver tongued misogynist Alpha Male.

The more I flex my egalitarian muscle the less it is an issue, obviously there has been significant changes to many areas of my thought processes over time and it’s not just as easy as ignoring the impulses (I’d say especially for sex offenders.) And that’s a whole other story but I have to say I understand how it happens, this world can twist you if you don’t have the right tools.

A frequent test of fortitude is when your downloading music and a naked women pops up on the side of the screen with her head banging against the wall and mouth open, obviously being dominated from behind and appearing to like it.

I’m not saying don’t watch porn but don’t watch porn.

We all know that dude we just met in a circle who stops mid sentence to perve on a girl walking past with his tongue hanging out, making comments about what he’d like to do to her, like a dog. He’s only doing what many of us are doing internally.

It lowers us, limits us, opresses women, depresses men and perpetuates unnecessary division between us.

So for now I honour my girlfriend and slowly wash the slime from my epidermis by looking straight ahead and knowing I’m making a difference. If that deprives me of possible interesting interactions so be it. I’m sure what’s meant for me won’t go by me.

Cheers

I am not special. I don’t identify with anyone being special or talented. Show me a person who is selfless and doesn’t hate, kill or judge, that’s special, not a musician who can play or sing just like 50,000 other “talented” people. There are just people doing things which make them feel something as a result of their influences. But what was the impetus? Without influence there isn’t one, It’s a womb. Art is imitation.

Realising I’m not interesting is when I become interesting, and not for the sake of being interesting but for the sake of realising the truth.

Don’t you think it’s ridiculous that it’s acceptable for adults to lie to children about santa claus and easter bunnies? How does lying to kids benefit them ever?

What am I contributing to downloading all this pop music for djing? How long will sex be comodified and women villified in it? When will saying Nigga 30 times in 1 song become passé?

Does the world really need another aspiring musician? I don’t need to do it even though I think about it alot, it’s environmental, it was the last thing on my mind in the bush and I was convinced I was done with it and sold all my equipment to keep travelling.

I’m only doing it for the skate rink, those kids make me so happy having fun. I enjoy the connection. I just want something to do, I’ll just sit there otherwise.

If I look back am I proud of all that time I spent downloading music and barely djing? No. I am however proud of the time I’ve spent away from the laptop screen and the countries I’ve been to and how I did it, quite extraordinary really which seems like it never happened now.

I’m thinking more about taking off again. But why? Because I’m treading water, and learning more about the world would have to be the best thing I could do if everything was pointless right?

I’ll get back to travel in a sec.

Sometimes I understand life perfectly, being worthless and weightless, a part of all other life, just a consciousness without a cause. The purity of nature is what’s beautiful. Feeling that makes time vivid and still in those short moments, I can continue living knowing nothing is important because I can’t make a difference, I don’t make a difference. Other concepts are forming and become alot clearer when I don’t poison myself, but they are still very hard to describe. I spoke to a women at the Kalamunda magic shop the other day and she understood me. It’s all much much less about “I” and more about “this” and “is” and “ok”.

Gough Whitlam our 21st PM was active about resource rape, consumption and capitalism in the early 70’s and what difference did it make? We are still expanding, consuming and destroying the place with increasing determination and efficiency. John Lennon was a huge peace activist and educator and we are on the verge of war right now. You might be able to provide some temporary intellectual entertainment, save a few lives, make some social reforms but it’s nature’s way in the end rectifying the imbalances like tsunami population control. We will destroy ourselves someday, but we have some catching up to do to China!

Travel….so……..wandering the streets with wet socks and a dirty backside is horrible. The cold is horrible, being lost is horrible, having no support is horrible, and I have that here. Maybe it will be different this time, cleaner, more planned….

There’s a few important things to spiritual health which probably doesn’t exist but for the purpose I think they are….

Safety.

Support.

Stillness of mind however you get it.

Movement.

Stimulation.

Some nutrition.

Giving, in no order.

Despite the security, I’m still unsettled, my identity is constantly collapsing, which is rapturous and torturous at the same time.

Has travel helped me as a person? I don’t think so, the same emotional obstacles would have challenged me without leaving the house, I’d just have different observations to recall. Your so abasing. Thanks.

Remember I know nothing only think some things and what is wrong or right is largely based on perspective.

People can say whatever they want without actually doing anything, like being an environmentalist yet using a smart phone, driving a car and using rubbish bags.

Love outpouring.

hitchmoth

9 OCT 14

Babies are like pigeons in a park, but if they land on your arm and love you they become special.

I just sat with Kailey at mum’s, I held her, fed her and burped her. She wanted to cry but I fixed it. She just stares at me. What do her thoughts look like if she knows no words? Feelings.

I said, I’m your uncle Chris, and a wave of emotion washed through me leaking out my eyes. I’m always going to be there for you, ok darling? She looked at me in wonder with her little wet mouth and smiling eyes, shoulders up near her ears slipping through my grip under her arms.
I don’t know if it was sadness or happiness or that her stainless spirit was reaching out to mine and saying that everything was going to be ok.
The cat looked up at me intensely brushing against my leg. They know.

Kailey-Grace

I NO LONGER NEED THE ATTENTION I ONCE CRAVED, I DO NOT NEED THE LIKES ANYMORE, THERE IS SOMETHING MUCH GREATER WORTH WORKING FOR. THE TIME IS NOW, THERE IS SERIOUS CAUSE FOR CONCERN ON EARTH. THE THREAT OF A 3RD WORLD WAR IS EVER INCREASING, WE ARE CONSTANTLY EXPANDING, DEVOURING THE LAND AND KILLING NATURE. THERE IS MORE TO LIFE THAN SEX AND MATERIAL POSESSIONS. HOW MANY PAIRS OF SHOES HAVE YOU GOT? I KNOW BECAUSE I WAS THERE TOO. MAYBE ANOTHER WAR WILL HELP YOU REALISE THAT YOU ARE SURROUNDED BY THINGS YOU DON’T NEED AND SPEND MOST OF YOUR TIME CHASING THINGS YOU DON’T ACTUALLY WANT. IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT, YOU HAVE BEEN MANIPULATED BY A SYSTEM OUT OF CONTROL WHICH CAN ONLY BE SUSTAINED BY CONSUMPTION. THEY NEED YOU TO CONSUME AND THEY GET YOU TO DO IT BY WATCHING THE TV, READING CORPORATE MEDIA, LISTENING TO POP MUSIC AND WATCHING HOLLYWOOD. WHY DO SO MANY CELEBRITIES KILL THEMSELVES? BECAUSE FAME, FORTUNE AND CONVENTIONAL “SUCCESS” IS NOT WHAT IS MISSING IN OUR LIVES. IF YOU WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL DO IT FOR PEACE IF YOU WANT TO WORK DO IT FOR PEACE, WHATEVER YOU DO, DO IT FOR PEACE. BECAUSE LIFE IS LOVE AND LOVE IS PEACE. IF YOU DON’T KNOW THAT THEN THERE IS SOMETHING MISSING AND THAT IS WHY EVERYONE IS HOOKED ON DRUGS! BECAUSE THEY KNOW THAT SOMETHING IS VIOLENTLY WRONG WITH SOCIETY BUT CAN’T FIGURE IT OUT. OHH THOSE BUMS!! STREET PEOPLE!! THEY ARE THE EPTIMOE OF A PEOPLE WHO CANNOT COPE WITH THIS FABRICATED EXISTENCE. I WORK HARD!! I PAY TAXES! I DESERVE! I’M NOT A DRUGGY! OH NO? HOW OFTEN ARE YOU GETTING PISSED? SMOKING CIGARETTES? WEED? PILLS? PRESCRIPTIONS? COFFEE? JUNK FOOD? JERKING OFF? GETTING ANGRY AND BEING BAD TO PEOPLE? DO YOU NEED THAT FANCY CAR OR ALL THAT SHIT IN YOUR HOUSE? IT’S ALL MEDICINE! DON’T CONFUSE ME AS SANCTIMONIOUS I HAVE DONE IT ALL AND MAY POSSIBLY DO IT AGAIN BUT I. AM. WAKING. UP!!! YOUR SAD BECAUSE YOUR ADDICTED, YOU’RE ADDICTED BECAUSE YOUR LOOKING FOR SOMETHING, AND THIS IS NOT IT!!!
SOME OF YOU WILL DIG THIS AND SOME OF YOU WON’T BUT I’M PUTTING IT OUT THERE FOR THE LAST TIME AS KILAHEEM BECAUSE I DON’T NEED TO BE THAT ANYMORE. CHOOSE LIFE. GOOD LUCK MY PEOPLE…..LOVE

I was taking my brother out and wanted James to meet him.
Scott always goes to the movies with mum and wanted to go tonight but I suggested we do something different.
He decided on Sizzler.
On the way I heard him mumbling to himself on the back seat and asked who he was talking to.
“Josh Henderson,” he said, his friend from bowling.
James and I both asked Scott to say hi for us.
Walking toward the Sizzler entrance, Scott flapped his arms and made high pitched sounds similar to the ones I made before picking up my Reebok Pumps when I was 11.
In the queue a child sitting on the floor stared with round eyes and an open mouth as Scott continued his conversation with Josh.
The 3 of us sat down.
I took a plate.
Scott stood up again, took a plate for himself and placed one in front of James.
I watched his short fingers release the plate as he looked out casually across the restaurant floor.
He held his cutlery patiently as we typed on our phones.
Scott brought back spaghetti, so James got some too.
“Are you getting desert Scott?” I asked.
“Yes, but I’m waiting for James.”
We then went to Dillons in Scarborough, Scott took many pictures and asked Dillon’s step son if he had any flipflops.

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24 July.

Woolomooloo, Sydney.

Scented candles are burning while I digest the chilli tortillas Brock’s lovely girlfriend made us for tea, he tunes his guitar and talks about music I know nothing about.

I used to be in the navy with him and feel like I know him better since he showed me a 10 year old VHS tape of him and his mates overdubbed with classic rock and punk, skating in their home town, before his hair fell out, in baggy shorts, heavy set, landing tricks with increasing finesse as the years went by.

I experienced some recent windows of intense defeat before he took me in from sleeping in my car. Withdrawing from months of sugar binging, cold, alone, confused, looking for a way out with dramatic conclusions and trying to run in opposite directions.

I haven’t intentionally consumed any sugar for 9 days now and together with having a friend and a bed everything seems easier, fun even.

Ellie has offered her place to house sit for 2 weeks incase Brock gets sick of me (but I think he’s having a good time too,) and I remember that everything works out in the end, you just have to wait sometimes.

 

 

image

Was sleeping in my car right up the end of that street. Wilson St Woolomooloo.

Was sleeping in my car right up the end of that street. Wilson St Woolomooloo.

Social Security Office – seemed like a nice guy

urban frontier

Day 6 no cake.
I should be using this time to finish writing my resume and get some work, since my friend Brock has taken me off the Woolomooloo street for a few nights.

I know I say I want to be out there living ascetically in my car, but when everyone who walks passed can see into your bedroom as you brush your teeth, it takes some adjusting to.
I wish I was happy with nothing, living under a tree, but it’s too cold and I’m hungry and oh look 360 is on the front cover of Rolling Stone Magazine.

I know a lot of my stuff is emotional and I think some readers must think I’m a lazy, attention seeking, insecure wimp and that there’s something wrong with me for having a 19 year old girlfriend, or maybe that’s just her family, who I know read this and may not be my biggest fans. I feel like saying, well you know what? I flew her over here from London and took care of her for 2 months showing her more of Australia than most of it’s citizens ever see, then I flew her home again safe and happy with that colourful experience under her wing which you tried to stop happening and you know what else? Her man hasn’t even had a drink this year, or a smoke, or a pill or an anything, big deal? YES IT IS! She might do alot worse than me!! So give me a FUCKING BREAK!!
Well I guess I did just say it.
Don’t write blogs when you’re angry.
It’s awkward knowing that certain people are reading this and I’m ambivalent about disclosing my whole life and insecurities on the internet because we are such a cruel species from the comfort of our arm chairs, me included, but I do, like a transparent emotional washing machine, so you can all watch someone face their demons and feel better about yourselves for not being perfect.
It takes hard work to realise that regardless of whether you were born disabled and walk the streets of Newtown trying to talk to people with your tongue hanging out, or you’re a dark 6’2 footballer with 3 investment properties and a side part, noone is better than anyone else, we all suck, WE ALL RULE and we all just want to be loved.
Ok, I feel better now.

 

    

 

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THAT ACTUALLY FELT GOOD.
CATHARSIS.
IM JUST SO ANGRY AT MYSELF FOR NOT BEING GOOD ENOUGH FOR PEOPLE BETTER AT THE THINGS I WANT TO DO.
IM ANGRY THAT IM NOT POETIC ENOUGH,
HOW MANY VIEWS IS ENOUGH?
I DONT KNOW WHAT TO WRITE OR DRAW,
UNLESS ITS ABOUT MY FUCKING FLAWS.
IM MOVING TO ACRYLIC,
I WANT TO DRAW.
I WANT TO PAINT.
I WANT TO TELL STORIES THROUGH THE MAJESTY OF SONG.
IM EMBARRASSED.
WHERES MY GUITAR THAT I CANT PLAY?
YOU ONLY WANTED IT FOR FAME.
YOUR SUCH A SOOK,
ALWAYS WINGING IN THIS BOOK.
LETS NOT FORGET,
THIS IS DAY 3 NO CAKE,
THERES BOUND TO BE SOME THINGS TO FACE.
THIS DOLE CAN PAY ME TO BE AN ARTIST AND ILL STUDY THE REST OF MY LIFE.
YOU WANT TO DRAW, DRAW
SING, SING.
CREATE, MEDITATE,
YOUV’E GOT IT BETTER THAN YOUR MATES.
NO RESPONSIBILITIES,
WOMAN WHO LOVES YOU,
REASSURANCE WONT DO,
YOUVE BEEN WRITING THE SAME SHIT FOR 10 YEARS.
NOTHING EVER INTERESTING,
ONLY FORGOTTEN GLIMPSES,
GUSTS OF WIND BREAK THE SURFACE OF THE WATER SWIRLING,
LIKE BAD DECISIONS.
I KNOW WHY THOSE MUSICIANS
DO WHAT THEY DO,
FUCKING ATTENTION SEEKERS,
COZ I’M ONE TOO!

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As if it’s not hard enough! LoL

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16 july 14

At least they’re reading again, but I haven’t written much in 3 months so what can I expect, people forget you and you have to get their attention again.
But that’s exactly what I wanted so I turned off and sat quietly trying to release my need for attention, get back at those who don’t give me enough and minimise societal influences running around my mind while I float through the black space eavesdropping on the truth within.
I believed that all my public expressions were obstructing my path to egolessness and the technology used to create them on (which is made from mined resources) was not conducive to the sustainability of the planet, that myself, everyone in the arts and most people fixed on achieving, were on a treadmill naively seeking validation for their own existense, like a drug masking the emptiness that can only be filled by realising that society’s boundless consumption and infinite desires are the reason the planet is dying, that we should live off the land like native aboriginals, wandering without posessions and sole importance being on earth, people and spirituality. Then I remembered that aboriginals dance and sing and paint pictures on cave walls.
 
 
There is no doubt we need to consume and want less material NOW! but how will the message get out if we all sit in corners?
 
So I’m back again realising that I still have issues and just because I’m an egomaniac, it doesn’t mean everyone else is and that there are many people creating for the benefit of the human race.
 
I’m still trying to figure out Kanye West though.

Quote in image taken from Tom Cornwall Glasgow.

As I lean out the car door sideways pissing into the pool of toothpaste I left on the road, I think of plush carpets and ocean views, that $60,000 I had in the bank 2 years ago and dinners wearing a $200 Armani shirt.
I’m registered for Job Seekers allowance now so I get $450 in 10 days from the government. I KNOW people will feel angry about my handout because they’re working their arses off to support me with their tax dollars, and all I can say is…Fool on them. How many pairs of shoes have they got? Tell me they’d keep doing what they do if they got rich, bullshit! They’d do something they love, and that’s what I’m doing (until I need a shower,) even if I am unstable. But seriously, the government have plenty of other avenues to steal money besides tax and how much of it is squandered, imbezzled and misappropriated anyway? Wouldn’t looking after our brothers and sisters be the best thing we could do with that money? People say I deserve the money because I served the country, crap! Everyone deserves it.

I have $280 in my pocket. I was going to stay in a cheap hostel for $200 until Tremaynes wedding but then I saw a picture of my friend (bless him) on the internet wearing a suit, looking business and riding high on investor confidence. I don’t want that. If I go in that hostel I’m a sheep just like everyone else, I may as well go join the navy again, secure my future and get a homeloan.
I’m living basic, I’ll make money when I’m ready, I’ll contribute to my people, there’s 2or3 hotels I can stay at for nothing with a reference from Centrelink but I choose to be here, in my sleeping bag parked on Bathurst Rd in my foggy Camry. Everything’s going to be alright. Just watch. Plus, I gave up cake today. :D

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14 July
Katoomba, Blue Mountains.

 

Lastnight alone in the darkness, on that cliff in Blackheath, I made a healthy fire and cooked potato and leek.
potato & leek

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Then drew a bullant.
ant

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

I’ve overcome my recent disenchantment with blogging. Not that they are being viewed as much as the 2013 wanderings, but I find publishing candid glimpses into my nebulous cerebral processes, regardless of the reception, defragmenting, if only temporarily. Also preparing material for others to read forces me to improve my craft and has facilitated catalysts for others trying to articulate their own inner contemplations. I just wish I could say what I really thought, but nothing is sweeter than the sound of one’s own name, and one can be very very sensitive about it.

 
 

movement
I applied for Newstart today (jobseekers allowance) and didn’t go into the trendy looking vegetarian cafe and juice bar on the main street, incase someone tried to talk to me.
 
I haven’t meditated much since Flo left, probably because I can whenever I want. I have no responsibilities now and am free to be an emotional wreck.
 
I visited the handsome Katoomba Cultural Centre and on this occasion was happy to pay the entry fee to the art gallery.
I noted the language orientated titles of 2 pieces named, “Sanguine” and “Sanctum.” There was a projection of images onto a suspended pillow conceptualizing the Aboriginal “dreamtime,” and a painting illustrating a response to the reports of early Blue Mountains explorers Blaxland, Wentworth and Lawson, that these areas were uninhabited during their expedition. Leanne Tobin wrote “The first three explorers from a far away place did not travel through this land unnoticed.”

 
 

Unexpectedly I enjoyed the heritage museum alot. “The mountains offered them respite in their dark and uncertain days.”
Every time I see the word “dark” or other language I identify with, my senses arrest slightly, “He was a reticent and intensely private person.”
 
With the history of the regions native inhabitants, white settlement and the magnetism of creative minds, I formed romantic desires to stay and follow the multicoloured enigma hanging subtly beyond the untrained eye, uncovering the sanctums of poets and inhaling the blue eucalyptic mist of earth and artistry.

 

Photo courtesy of my mum

Photo courtesy of my mum

 

I drove around all day yesterday looking for paradise, living only off cake, combusting my few dollars between the pistons, every destination agonising me, stopping, starting, oscillating, crunching the sugar granules between my teeth, one of them aching, ignoring my conscience and growing more displaced with every bite, fearing people.

He’s a junky. Besides the initial euphoria, he becomes withdrawn and less affectionate overall. He ignores his friends then reconnects with them a month later feeling foolish. I wouldn’t do it with him if he didn’t get so damn excited about it.

Minimalistic ideals, a home without speed cameras, traffic jams, parking tickets or corporate hypnosis. Close to nature, 1 pair of shoes, letters to friends, no goals. I’m here and I’m leaving. Don’t sell my dj gear yet it’s better than working in a supermarket.

I’m coming back to Sydney.

I think.

Ill just pop into the bakery first.

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I’m back in the Blue Mountains, my girlfriend returned to London 6 days ago and I’m sleeping in my car. I have places to stay but I prefer not to talk to people, although I usually enjoy it when I do.
I need to be in Sydney for Tremayne’s wedding in 3 weeks and I’m not sure what I’ll do til then seeing as I have $350 left and no job (not that I wan’t one). I could make that last if I sat still, but I find it impossible, there’s always a reason to keep moving, keep looking – but looking for what? If I learned anything travelling it was that you only find what you’re looking for when you stop looking. But you have to look to learn to stop looking. Even when your meditating for 12 hours a day trying to be with the breath and the body in the present moment your still trying to achieve something, your not happy with what is so your still searching.
And this is the paradox of Zen.
I don’t want to be here,
I don’t want to be there,
The only place to be is nowhere.

I bought a $1700 Toyota Wagon and we left Perth heading North on Wanneroo Road.

camry

So were driving and jiving, it’s good to share music with someone who actually gives a shit.

We saw great dunes of sand in the distance that looked like snow juxtapositioned against green shrubland. I said Woarr that would be sick playing in that and took the next turn off which said Wedge Island.

sand

At the end of the road was a sign indicating the entrance to Wedge Island shack community. We followed the white tracks past little tin shacks through to the beach.

The sand felt like magic dust between our toes, there was a group of people with flags flying high on their 4WD’s, they were drinking beer and throwing balls to little fluffy dogs.

We swam nude in the ocean. I thought about sharks most of the time.

On the way back the group called out to us, we looked at eachother and walked over dubiously.

They are all locals and meet on the point at 4pm on sunny days.

the point

Unk took a liking to Flo.

unk flo

Chris invited us to stay at his shack for the night.

chris shack

It was sandy, messy and perfect. I sacrificed 2.5 months of vegetarianism to show my appreciation for Chris’s kindness by eating a steak dinner he cooked. We felt super lucky.

sandy messy perfect

The community started in the 60’s as a camp for crayfisherman, people started building there own shacks on the land without having to buy it.
In 1972 the ranger came along and stamped every shack with a numbered disc outlawing the building of anymore.
All the shacks are self sufficient running on solar power, generators and water from rain tanks.
We have been welcomed back anytime.
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