Eye rain.

Sydney. The rain never scared me. What is fearful about wet toes and slick hair? It’s just water; the same water that you scrub your body under; that you gulp hastily after a run (probably cleaner than the water you sweat from said run); you get wetter and colder when you dive into the icy…

Hopeful disillusionment

Temporary dwelling. The light leaves my head like honey oozing out of the bottle Replaced with the vinegar of your sweet voice The trinkets that danced in our peripherals during Friday afternoon art classes Have gained a prepubescent arrogance They jeer now, feeding on the disillusionment of growing up 2am is no longer late, where…

The Non-Superlatives

In and around Melbourne. As a collective, we are obsessed with superlatives. The prettiest, the most expensive, the fastest, the best. Life then becomes the most predictable. In this series I explore the mediocre. What is more reflective of the everyday, the realest, those ordinary sights you see. Small, overlooked, but often packed with more…

Things are hazy

Torquay, Australia. As I sleep his entity hovers just above my consciousness, fingertips nudging me away from the dark brink. Yes, you’re entering my thin veins like the most intoxicating drug, but your predecessor sobered me up. A gap still lies between, a pale grey blend of lost time and tantalising mystery.

Wreckless

Burleigh Heads, Gold Coast. Don’t you dare chase a particular feeling. Pursue it, but let it come to you. It will.

Chaotic

The fourth dimension, Melbourne. To the girl I was, Hey it’s okay. I’m trying to cry for you, and I want to but I can’t. It’s nothing on you. You’ve just grown so well that I can’t do anything but thank you for the decisions you made. For the experiences you shared. I can’t believe…

Renascence

Southbank, Melbourne. The glittery lights drag me in Brush my hair, tie my shoes. My mother is displeased, I can see the pucker in her lips, But lemon always has that effect. The dusty vehicle doesn’t take me far, Of course, where’s the next servo? Is the authority sufficient? Will the interrogations stop? Find my…

The elusive gap

Essendon Station, Melbourne. We traverse the gap so many times it becomes automatic. We forget it’s there. Stepping down from the train is no trouble, but what about those running to chase the train, and if in the wrong place at the wrong time, miss it altogether? The gap widens. Remember where you stand in…

I’m trying, honey bee

Up in the clouds, Australia. The world isn’t made to be seen or heard. It couldn’t give less of a shit. The world is simply there, living and breathing and nurturing and prospering and growing, but it couldn’t give less of a shit nonetheless. To it, you could be dying, weeping, drowning and the world…