Jackson Hodge


SHIT (Our Doilies Have No Holes)

with foreword by Natty Dread.

“I have the authority to appoint anybody a Discordian Pope because
I’m a Discordian Pope. You are all now Discordian Popes.”


Hello, how are you?
I’m good thank you, but anyway… Welcome to SHIT.
SHIT is a journey into the concept of insanity and a complete analysis of the mind and was sporadically written over the month of November while I was traveling Cambodia.
I had no intention of doing this nor did I think I had the ability to, but never the less it is something that did happen. It seems to be my documentation of the world as I see it, or saw it within the writing time frame.
Towards the end everything sped up like a exploding mushroom cloud, I barely knew what was happening. It was like the last straw of society yelling at me so i began to write my way out of it, creating a reality, manifesting synchronicity all in the name of fun.

If you have any questions, I probably can’t answer them…
…It’s intended for interruption, it is now your jigsaw puzzle.
You’re responsible for your own perception.

Foreword by Natty Dread
A fore word?
An introduction?
A brief explanation? You want me to give an insight into the written world of the perceptions and observations of Jackson Hodge’s seminal creation “SHIT”?
Well I’m sorry I can’t. It’s not that I don’t want to.  I am trying to help here, but it’s just not possible to physically define abstract concepts….  that’s what makes them abstract concepts.
However if you are able to forestall your concrete beliefs in the absolutes of reality you will find this “book” to be a delight.  A genuine feast of word treats for anyone willing, smart enough or foolish enough to eat the black berries, dance the forbidden jig and descend to the depths of the rabbit hole. Map be dammed!
Jackson’s “Shit” is a foaming, smiling, howling, honest call to all.
Retuning the frequency, like cotton  wool between the teeth.
Remember that we are all responsible for our own perceptions. Whatever anyone may find inside these pages is their own creation and consequently their own fault. Jackson Hodge may be writing his own universe and manifesting reality to suit his purposes. But aren’t we all?  Who are we to stop him?
If you’re looking for structure, narrative, protagonists or any other literary preconceptions, then you will have to find them for yourselves. There’s a shit ton of ‘em in there.
– However this is an unmade jigsaw, or maybe a half written crossword, and like it or not the outcome is entirely your responsibility. Just like in the “real world” – perception is parallax.
Good luck, and enjoy.

hey(Picture of a happy jellyfish) JELLYFISH TOWN (picture of a happy jellyfish)

Some fucking drug addict cut my cocaine with saniflush.


Hateful wrath, I’m gonna make a list alright. Sit down, now listen, I’m gonna list everything I hate about _____________, alphabetically.

Spell Wrath
Spell Albatross

– I hate the rolling stones, Keith Richards, Mick Jagger.

‘What’s your opinion on anything Keith?’ derderderder.

I can’t escape these fucks, they’re worse than coca-cola.

– I busted my elbow getting my washing out of a dryer. Fuck you dryer, why don’t you follow the mechanics of the situation and your purpose and not be a prick. (Jump 27 days into the future, I just had a run in with a Korean prick…)

– ‘No fish taco? Why not?’ English women want their tacos mayne. With bacon.

–    American money is funny money. The Illuminati. Fuck you cigarettes.

•    −    Three car loads of sand, lugged up three flights of stairs. That’s a lot of sand.

•    −    “I’m from America and I make the rules”. Yeah you do but we don’t fuckin’ listen.


I have never been led through so many shops, willingly or not.
Then I walk.

Paging all the customers, all the custards

I’m paging all the custards, all the custards going to New Zealand.
New Zealand, New Zealand, New Zealand, shut up New Zealand you talk too much about things that don’t concern you.

{I did get to get on the plane first}

“There’s moles
There’s moles in holes
There’s mole in holes with inflatable dolls
Looking for love in their entwining souls.
There’s trolls
There’s trolls with bowls
There’s trolls with bowls on lovely strolls,
And then!
They fall in the mole’s holes.
Now the trolls with bowls
and moles in holes (and their dolls)
become acquainted with some foals
who live far away on grassy knolls.
Now the foals knolls were under Attack!
Oh no.
By a guy named joel who was looking for coal.
Joel was on the dole before getting into coal
and now he’s being mean to those wonderful foals.
So the foals told
the trolls and
the moles and
the dolls and
The trolls with  their bowls got some poles
and beat up joel.
Hooray for moles in holes with dolls.
Hooray for trolls with bowls on strolls.
Hooray for foals from grassy knolls
and joel – Don’t be a prick.”

Why does everything contain guns?

With their phallic sexual innuendo and their shitty generic watered down pretend violence.

Let’s go and appreciate real death, for it’s the reward, the transition of life.

Don’t let something beautiful and melancholy become sterile.

{The Killing Fields}

I’m going to the Killing Fields and I would much prefer to go and see a site where tens of thousands, millions, were killed and a gut feeling for something other than watching another shitty Brad Pitt movie, shooting people in the head.

Try explaining day light savings to foreigners and then you can realise how stupid our concept of time is.

{Toilet lines, ay}

And we all think there’s a God.

Someone or something watching us in private, a constant audience.
Fast cars, hard liquor, hot women.

The streets, with the masses, no matter where we are
we’re back in those toilet lines.

We don’t believe in God, but the idea’s planted inside the mind, in a place that you have no control over.

Some other being than us is in control.

Or maybe not

Toilet lines ay

If the lines moving to slow and you’re about to bust just remember,
    in toilet lines or in death
    in the end we all shit in our pants.

{Left Side}                               {Right Side}

Two lines,                                Two lines,
red and green                         yellow
parallel and fade away            parallel, linger, fade away

Both sides create a three dimensional box.

Skeletal square neon red green yellow.

The virtual reality world man

No Pac man

Littered with teeth
Dust particles settle and rebuild but since there’s
no moisture, there’s no life.
There is however vegemite
Black yeast tar dripping
Five dots Blue Red Purple, Purple Blue
We’re all plugged in, luckily we’re all connected
rows on rows, tiers on tiers
People        staring        blankly
Being fed by the machine
make yourself sterile and clean
and don’t feel the effect of the chaos.

I spoke to the woman sitting next to me on the plane:

“Time & money are the same thing. You either have lots of time and no money or lots of money and no time”

I don’t know how much I agree, I’ll think on it.

−    We did invent both money and time
−    In a sense you’re either making money or spending money. Giving or taking I suppose.

{Day 1 – 1/11/13 – Bangkok}

This is possible the funniest thing I’ve ever done. Travelling around Asia with big boots and dicky socks.

I found out about some tours. I can pushbike ride around the slums and I can go and see some museums. One museum is of mummified serial killers, one is a torture museum and one is a dildo museum.

I had tacos for dinner & the waitress’ sister has been to Australia before. Next to the taco restaurant was the

SPERM shop.

At the taco restaurant, I ate all the sauces. I gave the waitress a tip because she was giving the ‘thumbs up’ to me, which was pretty hilarious.

No matter where I go I can’t escape the rolling stones, those fuckin’ bastards, I hate the rolling stones.

I can’t escape YOLO (You Only Live Once) either, even the fuckin’ Germans have it.
I saw a shirt that said ‘Where’s the Beef’.

I also got complimented on my manners. Manners are good, and easy, and I like them. I use manners and working in childcare I teach kids to use manners, but if I didn’t use manners and told them to in a ‘do as I say not as I do’ kinda way than I’d just be a hypocritical bastard and we all hate those bastards.

It’s very hot in Bangkok, or at least humid, and I’m glad I’m traveling solo because if I was with anybody they’d have to listen to my constant bitching about weather & t shirts.

Why the fuck did I come to Bangkok and eat tacos?

The traffic lights have a countdown to give drivers a time frame.

Green light is twenty seconds
Orange light is three seconds
Red light is eighty seconds.

I like the traffic here. Everybody’s just doing their own thing and are aware that everybody else is doing their own thing and isn’t concerned about it, just observant of it. It’s the ‘you do what you want without fucking with me’ attitude. There also seems to be less horns.

Drunken backpackers laughing like hyenas, thinking they’ll be safe wherever they go.
Maybe they should try being a woman.

Then again I’m a drunk so what’s the difference?

It’s hot.
Why is it hot?
When it’s hot, I get irritated
and when I’m irritated, I like irritating.
It’s hot and it’s humid
I suppose there’s worse types of hot
There’s the “OH MY GOD I’m being electrocuted” hot
There’s the ‘I’m smoking cigarettes in forty degree weather’ kinda hot.
What about the ‘there’s too many people in this room with minimal ventilation and someone’s gonna get headbutted soon’ kind of hot.
Not all hots are negative though.
What about ‘this is amazing sweaty sex’ hot.
That’s a good hot
Hot food, hot towels, going to the beach.
There’s hot hot curry hot.
What about the funny faces dogs make when they’re hot…

Now the Jellyfish really like playing sport. It’s healthy for them, they get to be social and meet other jellyfishes they previously didn’t know, and it also burns up energies so they never fight because all the jellyfishes have put their energy into something fun.

A very fun game the Jellyfish play is football. It’s nothing like the western football or soccer, it’s just like volleyball but with feet and your head, see the jellyfish don’t have hands so they have to use their feet and their heads.

The jellyfish do heaps of kicks when they play football. They do roundhouse kicks and spinning kicks and twirly kicks and dropkick and they even do the MC5 song ‘Kick out the Jams’. They do headbutts, headbottoms and head bums but under no circumstance can they use their face, only their head, because otherwise that’d be silly.

There’s no competition in the jellyfish sports because they’re only playing for fun and to jollily tease each other, so they don’t take themselves too seriously. They also wear these funny dicky shorts of all different colours.

C’mon, dicky shorts are quite funny.

The dicky shorts are the only clothing the Jellyfish have though and they all get taught how to make their own shorts when they’re little.

The Jellyfish don’t have any other clothes because that would lead to fashion, and we all know how ridiculously evil fashion is with its hierarchical elitist branding of the soul.
The Jellyfish don’t like any of that and they also know it’s bad for the ego, self-image and psyche.

So they’ve stayed away from all that and it’s working out pretty good for them so far.
The Jellyfish are also slightly opposed to imposed cultured, the idea of having a certain aspect done in a certain way. The Jellyfish like to be open to anything as long as it doesn’t impose on others.

The Jellyfish are critical of imposing, and opposing.

What the Jellyfish do is they like to get influence from everywhere, anywhere and nowhere.
It helps them understand ways of life and ideas they would have never thought of if they did it only one way.

{Day 2 – 2/11/13 – Bangkok (still)}

I woke up very early and it was very hot and sweaty and sticky.

So I had a shower and went for a walk to see what Bangkok is like early in the morning when everybody’s hungover.

I didn’t have shoes on and my shirt unbuttoned, I feel like I was at home but there was less broken glass on the street.

A guy on a motorbike randomly yelled out “Hello!” to me, I saw a funny green bus with unicorns painted on it and a gay thai man smiled and slightly ripped me off when I ate baked beans and coffee.

There’s these funny little short haired cats that play across the road from the hostel.

Two of them are bright star white.
They all look slightly diseased.
Nobody wears sunglasses.
I was wearing sunglasses and a different foreign woman was wearing sunglasses but nobody else was.
Only foreigners wear sunglasses ’round these here parts.

Sirija Medical Museum

Preserved babies. All the babies are wrinkled & covered in a fine layer of hair.

•    −    Anencephaly – Female with a penis at the belly button.
•    −    Harlequin type ichthyosis
•    −    Life stages of the foetus – the jump from 9 weeks to 12 weeks. 12 weeks looks more humanoid than tadpole like.
•    −    Homozygous twins.
•    −    Dicephalus dibrachius dipus
•    −    cyclopia with proboscis
•    −    Thoraco-Omphalopagus – joined at the stomach.
•    −    Gastroschisis – internal organs externalised.
•    −    Sirenomelia (Mermaid)
•    −    Thoracopagus Conjoined twins – black insides exposed, showing joining stomaches, organs, dead.

Halved organs.
Lungs Brain (hyper tension) Heart – Valvular heart or heart defect.
Cast of coronary artery.
Breasts (cancer) & arm (elephantiasis maybe)
Shriveled penis looks like rotten wood. White and black.
Liver and lung cancer.
Leukemia – pale pinks cells, a few light blue. Leukemia is dark blue cells scattered though out the pink.

Skulls and bones
You were once alive.
Some were old, some were young
All are dead.
Pelvises and scalps
Suicide attempts with blade cuts
Suicide success, amputate cut left wrist
Stab wounds multiple stab wounds multiple head stab wounds
Hand grenades molotov cocktails broken beer bottles
Car accidents train accidents small plane accident.
Contact double barrel shotgun wound.
That’s the pictures.

Preserved skulls.
Unidentified male beheaded in car accident
Skull with injury due to burn.
A whole skeleton, but I’m bigger than it.
Babies still in the womb, exposed through an opening to see the world from a jar.
A baby with a big head, bloated stomach twisted little limbs would walk with spinal bifida.
Instruments and vices
People running from tigers and dragons on tablets.
Thai cobras, you wouldn’t fuck with them with bullets and grenades.
A brown white Centipede the length of a ruler with 40 legs.
Drowned babies, death in utero. Some look alien and some look like leather.
Two heads, faded skull still holding on to the shriveled womb that’s in the jar with it.

Evidence from dead body in a murder case.
White collared singlet. Brown Dress with a golliwog duck holding an umbrella. Blue leather belt. Empty glass bottle.
A knife. A diary – January 1959. 1st Thursday, 3rd Saturday.

Dead Body with natural mummification. Black and pruned with the nose press up against the glass.

Si Quey – See Ui
Eyes open, two teeth showing.

All the mummified bodies are standing in bain-marie dishes. Brown grease with black dot chucks.

Rape murderer with Death Sentence #1
Lots of grease and covered in wax.

Rape murderer with Death Sentence #2
No grease, shriveled with mite.
Top teeth rest on bottom lip.

A pink shirt with lots of black dried blood.
I can see one stab wound.

(I’ve copied a picture of an anime like bunny rabbit smiling, holding a bottle with a bow near the ear. ‘HOW ARE YOU’ is written vertically next to picture.)
Bunnies and kittens and bears on a shirt ‘FOR YOU’
Another stab wound maybe.

Tongue trachea and right lung. Looks like penis and testicles.
Skulls in car accidents and dragging
(I’ve drawn a picture of a skull cracked in three directions. It’s not a very good picture.)
Skulls aren’t this oblong though.
Smells of dust and old air conditioners.
Amputated arms and feet from car accidents
Split bones and entwined nerve endings.
Heart with holes, broken hearts, from gunshot wounds.
Mummified hips pelvis and legs to the knees.
A funny hunched alien dripping sticky saliva.

Wat Bang Wuang
Investigate all deaths of unnatural cause
Two forensic pathologists and an assistant per body.
Everything catalogued.
1011 cases sorted in a week.
Debris and dirt embedded in the wound.

{How to survive a tsunami.}

Fish crabs shrimp eels stingrays horseshoe crabs
Scrotum of a patient with elephantiasis, it’d be twice the size of my head. The length of my torso.


Venomous snakes of medical importance.
Spiders, centipede, bees, wasps, house dust mites with teddy bears, caterpillars, ants.

Different strands of viruses
Malaria’s red circles and cucumbers
Naegleria fowleri are funny blue squids
Trichomonas vaginalis pink squids upside down
Balantidium coli are blue capsules.

Now I’m really fuckin’ hungry!

I got a delicious pizza from the Wang Lang bakery.
There was lots of officials at the museum and the hospital.
Standing at every door, gate or opening, all in hats and they do wear sunglasses.
The foreigners and the authorities are the sunglass wearers.
The authority also seems to do a lot of traffic work.
There’s green lush plants everywhere, lining every street.

Noises. Colours. Smells. Smiles. As you transcend through the streets with high-rise above and the wheels below, freedom takes you slowly by the backdoor to the river. Cross between colourful long tail boats and small freighters. Then  on the other side, quietness and tranquility await except the sound of the frogs and cicadas. Go by small concrete tracks through mangrove and past stilted houses and laidback life with a glimpse of the urban beyond.

The television blanks out people smoking fat dick cigars so instead they just hit themselves in the face with transparent rectangles.

On other televisions they show cats sitting at tables eating plates of food while people have commentary voice overs filmed from the studio.

And over here is where the ping pong shows are, if you’re into that kinda thing…
Oh not really, I’m more into the macabre density of transmitted consciousness that crosses time space and dimension. But thanks anyway.

{Day 3 – Bangkok (still, why I don’t know) }

Last night, myself and an Englishman named John went to Kho San Road, the fuckin’ hellhole that it is with drunken foreigners, delicious food and the invitation to a ping pong show is lip sucking and smacking.

I did too get clawed by a fuckin’ neurotic cat.
Staring it directly in the eyes telling it it’d all be okay (if that’s a lie or not I don’t know) but it was too far gone.

Yesterday I met a Dutch girl who studies art, lives in Shanghai and has to leave Shanghai every 90 days for some reason. She also spoke 4 languages and we talked about hats.

This morning I was up and be gone. For breakfast I had corn, but they gave me too much corn, and while I was looking for the building I was going to a lovely tuk-tuk driver who slightly reminded me of a pimp gave me directions.

If you walk around here with no shoes on, it’s just as weird socially if you walk around Sydney with no shoes on, but everybody is a bit more curious and wants to know in SouthEast Asia.

“What happened?”

“Wanna buy some shoes?”

“It’s more comfortable inside” (indicating to carpet)

I found myself saying to people on the street

‘It puts strength in the feet’.

We got to go on a river boat tour. Myself, a Dutch girl whose name I can’t say or remember, our guide – who was a funny cheeky woman – and our boat driver – who had immaculate boat driving skills.

When we first got on our rainbow coloured boat the fear kicked in cause I thought I’d lose my bag in the water. It’s always good to have that tick or nerve to keep perception highs. I found out the funny guide lady had fallen off the boat only once which to me is a good track record.

We got out of the open water and into the canals. The water was 3 metres deep as we passed through some orange gates.

The canals were a Venice type environment as everybody was welcoming as we traveled through.

Looking at the water. Thing floating in the water, animals, plants, waste, rubbish.
It doesn’t matter where you are it’s everybody’s water.

A ‘Welcome to Thailand’ attitude, as opposed to Australia’s with its ‘Fuck Off We’re Full’ attitude.

We pulled up at a temple. I forgot the name of the temple though but it was very fun.

People there were fishing, not the ‘hey I have a fishing rod’ kinda fishing but the ‘let’s chuck shitloads of bread and corn puff things in the water and just pull fish out’. So many fish, Oh My Buddha, you wouldn’t believe it.

At the temple there was a building size golden Buddha sitting atop a three headed white elephant standing atop a black world eating demon. If you’re born on a Wednesday night you have to give the demon special gifts that are colour black, black coffee, poppy seeds, black jelly and other black stuff.

There is a different Buddha for everyday and Wednesday night so 8 Buddha’s in all but there’s so many more believe me.

We got to hit gongs, we saw buckets of fish and a man who puts his foot on a hot iron and then massages people with his hot foot while he hangs onto a pole.

We got back on the boat and back down the river, on our way to a lotus farm. Apparently the lotus is the first flower that existed.

In the Terrence McKenna view of things plants created animals to move seeds around, a very yang solution, So using this logic we are here because of the lotus.

I made some tuna sandwiches at the lotus farm with the most fluffy amazing loaf roll thing I’ve ever had. It was meant to be for the fish but the flappy rolly catfish didn’t mind.

I did hit a catfish in the face with bread which was pretty funny.

At the lotus farm there were lots of lotus and the boat driver had a nap. It also became apparent how efficient the Thai community is with nature. It’s very ying and yang and everything has its function. Leaves that are used as sand paper, banana leaves are used as wrapping paper, weird sticks that can become toothpicks, these people are geniuses.

Or very simplistic – but it’s the same thing.

After the lotus farm we floated through the back alley of community. People in their back porches on a river living.

It reminded me of back alley Newtown. Art and making and people doing what they do with tourists coming through and photographing.

The people let us through their homes, of course they sold us stuff but the welcoming and generosity was amazing. I let people in to my house, wherever I am at the time, but it’s generally homeless people or goddamn hippies.

They made us delicious ice coffees and the dutch girl and I hung our feet off their balconies into the river. After Bangkok the dutch girl was going trekking and then to hang out on the beach and read. It sounded great.

So many adventures happening.

We also saw some lizards, big monitors, swimming in the lake with just their head about water or if they’re really big you can see their fat bellies and backs.

With the adventure talk, there was a couple from Missouri USA, right in the middle, who had been in India studying elephants eating popcorn. I met them after the hectic medical museum.
We left the wonderful people who let us in their house and we headed back to the mainland. More temple time.

We got off the boat and said byebye to the driver (we also got to drive past his house and wave to his daughter and wife.)

Back on land, we headed to more temples. I also bought a great hat. I’d been looking for a hat for two days and hadn’t found one I liked. The Dutch girl and the guide lady helped me pick it which was great because I get quite indecisive.

Temple #2

The story of Rama painted throughout the place. Amazing stories about monkey warriors who become bridges to get people across gaping gullies, stories of love princesses rooster warriors, sky fighting dragon demons, the main warrior demon was green.

Silly demon *shaking fist* Why don’t you stop being silly.
Rahul, the world-eating demon.

There was also a story of how one of Rama’s monkey warriors whisked away the green demons daughter, who was a mermaid, and they had a child who was a monkey mermaid warrior hybrid and Rama had to amputate the mermaid out so that the bastard child wasn’t evil.

I hadn’t drank water for a while and I had to wear long dicky blue flame dragon pants in the temple so I was acting a big green demon silly. There was also a girl walking around with very see through pants and I saw her underwear. It was white and she had a white bottom.

The left the Rama temple, got ice cream and

Temple #3

The Buddha’s.

So many Buddha’s. Like 370 odd Buddha’s who became bigger as you delved in. The funny guide lady kept taking photos with the Dutch girls camera, being a cheeky bastard about it which was the cheese on the cake. She also tried to take a shortcut through a construction area that alerted the authorities to stopping us. She gave them cheek too. It was nice to see that all over the world people have a joke with the authorities. It’s not too serious, it’s only life and only systems.

At the Buddha temple there was a standing Buddha, which was two stories high, a sitting Buddha which was even bigger and a resting Buddha who was laying down inside a building and it was fucking massive. It took 27 years to build and had kaleidoscopic elephant print feet.

We walked through the space and heard about Rama 9 who had 67 wives and 112 children or something. That’s impressive because I find constant people hard. Maybe he did too.
We left, got a tuk-tuk and had some lunch. There was no Pad Thai left and the people who got the last of it didn’t even finish it! Those bastards. Me and the waitresses laughter filled the pier, and then we were put on a boat.
Byebye funny hilarious weird tour guide lady, lovely to meet you. Stay outta trouble. I love you and have fun.

At the temple I got to wish all the Buddha’s with fun. Those Buddha’s are gonna have the greatest time (so much fun).

On the boat at one of the stops was a guy in a swimming cap and an umbrella yelling at people ‘HURRY UP, HURRY UP!’ and that was his job, and I’m sooo envious.

What a great job, yelling at people ‘GET YOUR ASS INTO GEAR MOTHERFUCKER’

We got off the boat, byebye Dutch girl it was lovely to spend that day with you and now I’m at the hostel, and I’m doing my washing. I’m staying in my room while I don’t have a shirt on. I could sit downstairs with no shirt and everybody could see my cool tattoos.

But everybody who gets tattoos is a dickhead and I can say that – because I have tattoos too.

Corn. Delicious corn. Oh my god why don’t I eat more corn?
Alright corn, that’s enough. No really.
Oh no too much corn.
I like you corn but c’mon now.
Has this ever happened to you?
Have you ever had too much corn?
Creamed corn, corn cobs, cornbread or strawberry corn cake.
Lots of corn. Too much corn.
There’s never enough of that delicious yellow corn.

Do you know how stupid hotdog eating competitions are? It draws a crowd.

{Day 4 – Lets go. Bangkok – Siem Reap.}

Last night. Chinatown, food, walking everywhere, no shoes. No threat. Got drunk and got some sleep.

I’ve met two 25 year old Englishmen on bottom bunks.

At 6:30am I’ve got a funny stripy shirt (red & yellow) staff guy with bolt cutters on the move.

After 10 minutes I found my keys and his bolt cutters were irrelevant and I was a dickhead.

The people I’ve been seeing about don’t like being scammed by taxi’s tuk-tuk’s or anybody else.

They’re angry about it. I, however, don’t mind getting slightly scammed for two reasons.

1.    I’m a white male – if there’s any type of person in the world who should get scammed it’s white (devil) males.

2.    What’s (dollar sign, I couldn’t find it on the keyboard )2 to me? Really? I’ll spread everything around and make the world a playground. Give and let people do some taking – whatever you want you can have and we can all play the game together.
A lot of the people (not really, just a few English people) I’ve spoken to all hate things about other backpackers and travelers, e.g…

“I hate when people come to Thailand and eat McDonalds”
(McDonalds probably shouldn’t be eaten anywhere)

…instead of liking things about the place they’re in and just forgetting their society and culture for a while. It’s still hanging on.

The world isn’t this evil place. The world is a great place and people are good.
If somebody feeds into ideas you don’t like that’s fine.

Everybody’s different like everybody else (Joe Buck Yourself taught me that).

I hold a lot of tension in my back, neck and shoulders so what to do about it?

Get a massage.

Well, I thought it’d be appropriate to get a massage after the crazy foetus museum. *sigh* It didn’t work.

I got led into a room with 5 dirty mattresses on the floor and room dividers.

“I think we’ve had a miss understanding here”

‘You’ve got to have a shower, over there’

“Nah, I’ve already had a shower, too much effort, byebye”

And I left without a massage, but the last thing I felt like doing after hanging out with severed limbs was having sex.

A German was telling me that a taxi driver was asking him if you could have sex in his country (Germany) without paying and was dumb founded to find out that you could.

Imagine the mental toll that would take on your mind.

I want to have sex with everybody but I don’t want to turn it into a service, I want to have fun and we all know what Cyndi Lauper says about girls wanting to have fun. Let’s all have fun! (and sex).

Petrol is the same price in Thailand as it is in Australia. Wherever you go petrol companies want more money.

This is a fun minivan ride, very comfortable. And we stopped to poop.

It’s taken me 3 days to get used to the heat and I now no longer walk around like a fuckin’ pool.

{Poi Pet.}

Money talks and fast tracks the process to everything.

Like Burroughs, I feel like an agent from the unknown waiting for orders, unsure of orders.
Like Bukowski sitting at a bar, however I don’t think Bukowski was in Siem Reap.

(Welcome to the Mad Monkey… It’s funny looking back through time as I write this knowing the cause and effect now)

They play the B52’s and Nirvana, which is quite funny and better than the other shit. That disco shit.

Parasitic culture in the form of Americano.

Music money and advertisement, everything for a profit especially Western Interzone.

Where were the armies of horses when a Cambodian regiment was killing Cambodians?

(Why did only Jello Biafra mention it?)

Too busy playing with their fuckin’ dongs and killing Vietnamese in squalor.

SouthEast Asia, where everybody is open and friendly, as opposed to Australia where nobody gives a fuck really. People just seem happy to hang out around motorbikes and crossing boarders are easy if you’re willing to give people a bit for their pockets, which is fine, which is the process.

Fast track for me, generosity for others.

When I got to the Cambodian border I had the previous paranoia instilled and thought people were after me so the hesitation was there. I gave some guy my passport and thought he’d stolen it but he came back with a visa. Then I thought he and them scammed me but only in retrospect did I realise they didn’t.

They just hang around a border crossing, the duty free land of casinos and cheap whiskey and help people get to where they’re going. They also set up a funny guy in a hat to get me from Pot Poi to Siem Reap.

I had to get some money out so he used that as a good excuse to see the pretty girls at the casino, without a tourist they don’t let him in. He must be a bit of a pest.

I hung out with him for about an hour and he just joked with everybody else who hung out and he told me with money and a good car you can have many girlfriends.

I haven’t eaten really and I’ve spent times on minivans and minibuses listening to Hank III.

{Siem Reap.}

I got a tuk-tuk ride off Sol who was this amazing guy in a NY purple hat with a hairy mole who just wanted me to enjoy the time I spent in the place he calls home.

Now I’m at The Mad Monkey with the parasitic culture in the form of Americano.

There’s a synth pop song with the only lyric being Tuesday and weird nana cat sounds.

You have to be deranged to come up with that kinda shit, and for me that’s where the hope lies.

There is also Geckos here. Fuckin’ Gecko, near sent me crazy.

Living alone in a crack house and like clockwork as I was trying to drift off the sleep there’d be a crazy fuckin’ shriek that I thought could possibly be a death rattle.

After 2 weeks I thought I had lost my mind, until a friend said ‘it’s only a Gecko’.
Well didn’t I feel the fool.

Sweet little innocent Geckos at the primal level are the manifestation of schizophrenia.

Guaranteed to tickle your taste buds, & get you wankered!

Jose Cuervo, Triple Sec, Lime Juice, Sugar Water
Choose between Classic, Strawberry or Melon.
House specialty, you won’t be disappointed…

Espresso Martini
[editor’s note: I also thought it was Expresso]
Absolute Vodka, Kahlua, Cacao liquor, Coffee
Not a fan of Red Bull… The classier way to kick start your night.

Jack Daniels, Raspberry liquor, Fresh Lime Juice, Sugar, Fraise, Cranberry.
Sexy and sweet, but certainly not innocent…

Love Hug
Jose Cuervo Tequila, Fraise, Fresh Lime Juice, Brown Sugar, Passion Fruit, Sugar Water.
A Love Bar favourite, rimmed with honey.

Passion Fruit Mojito
Mint, Bacardi, Sugar Water, Fresh Lime Juice, Soda
(not the Primus album Pork Soda though)
Passion Fruit.
Don’t miss out on this seasonal treat.

When I was little and living in Mollymock my friend Mitchell Lemon nearly set my head on fire, or tried to. I don’t really remember but my mother does and according to her, Mitchell Lemon’s fathers reaction was:

‘well boys will be boys’

I could have suffered burn wounds.

Later, in high school, I nearly set my friend Meg Lye’s hair on fire, or tried too. She had hair colouring done at the time and she could have suffered head burn wounds.

I do remember this and I got my shoelaces thrown on a train station roof as reaction.
That’s pretty good.

Flood Lights – the genius of society. If you ever need people to find you, shine a massive flood light over the whole city that spans kilometres and space. Let foreign bodies know of your whereabouts and don’t let authority spy, smack them right in the goddamn face and yell at them


The pop group TLC made it quite clear they don’t want no scrub (something’s off about that linguistically grammar) but what the fuck is a scrub?
They explain it’s a passenger who wants attention but no TLC, wrong.
Scrub is the bush and what you’re talking about are losers. Call them losers.
There’s enough losers around for them to know you’re talking about them, don’t mask it and alter language for a bunch of fuckin’ losers.

I wonder when people listen to acoustic pop songs about lost love or pop disco songs about being the sexiest bitch in the joint if they think the singer is singing directly to them?

I have 4 different types of currency, Australian, American, Thai Baht & Riel, red nail polish on my left hand, blue on the right and looking up at the stars wondering how the view of the sky works.

Different places geographically see different stars cosmically. Try figuring out why. Different revolutions on a sphere watching the universes patterns.

Who wants to go to Bondi? That’s right, nobody.

Do you know how much of a pain in the ass it is to get to Bondi by train, car, bus, boat, pushbike, walking or however else people travel. Planes, canoes, tuktuk, minivans, rolly polies, skipping, jet skiing listening to Tupac, kicking your way through bed bugs, no matter your way – going to Bondi is a pain in the ass. And who wants to listen to foreigners anyways.

The band The Beards have killed beards.

“Why don’t you have a beard you unfashionable piece of shit, we have beards and you don’t, what are you a communist, or a fag? Get a beard hippy. It’s movember you unpatriotic dickhead, people died for your beard FREEDOM!”


Ain’t a damn thing change boy, protect ya neck. When it comes to influence and parasitic culture, Ol’ Dirty Bastard should be the master. I make more noise than heavy metal.
I’m always hesitant about peoples pompous pretentiousness and hipster status. The idea of cool, and then, Wu-Tang. Fuckin’ Wu-Tang. Clan Ain’t Nuthin’ Ta Fuck Wit’. Accommodate for all.

After a while the pop comes back but I’m satisfied with the few Wu-Tangs.

Watching people play beer pong and I remember playing cricket once. I was bowling and synchronicity clicked, my mind and my body had the same point and became one to get the ball to hit the stumps. It was raining and overcast and when I got the batter out cause my mind body knew where their mind body had the bat, it was my turn to bat.
It broke the spell and that’s the end of the memory.

The connotation of words.

‘Hate is such a strong word’ while everybody throws around love like sour air.
I’d much prefer to use hate than the news speak double talk of dislike, unlike, double-un-dis-like.

I forgot what I wanted to say.
And what it was was the White Devil.
I’m embracing the White Devil.
Don’t deny what you are. Don’t like the negative aspect drag, take it on and be whoever you are, and I’m the White Devil and my mind’s full of sharp steel.

The excessiveness to life.

Void money and become the want. For me, it’s the numb or the consumption that leads to it. Alcohol, cigarettes and minimal food when it’s readily available.

In Sydney, you can’t go hungry, there’s just too much, but if it’s that easy, who wants it?

The Grenade

The deadly weapon. I’ve seen pictures of kids bodies shredded apart, mutilated beyond extremities with white exposed cartilage. However, now we’re speaking about the beverage.
Jagerbomb with Tequila shot… Do it for your country!!!

{Day 4 & 5 (it’s all the same)}

I went to a bar called Angkor What! With a guy named Aam. Aam was an American whose parents are Indian. His dad moved from India to Texas of all places by himself in the 70’s.

What a fuckin’ mad cunt.

At Angkor What! Bar there was pictures on the walls of pumpkins and ghouls, the remnants of All Hallows Eve and someone had written on the wall ‘I am scared of Fuck Horse’.
Dollar beers and people shouting everybody shots. It was insane how willing everybody is to get fucked up drunk.

I was kissing a girl named Edith, which was quite fun and then somehow crazy shit happened. Edith, her Friend and I were walking near a river and suddenly dead weight

BANG, Friend hits the ground and is out cold.

We try to help her up but she’s gone dead to the world. Tuktuk drivers descend on us left right and centre.

‘We need to get her to the hospital, I don’t want a dead girl on my hands…’

Now we’re in a tuktuk and we all get taken to a medical centre, two beds in the joint with one bed already filled with a guy who looks like a motorbike accident.

They hook Friend up with IV’s and tubes and she’s still gone. After about half an hour of sitting and watching and trying to lighten the mood I realize ‘Hang on, I don’t have my wallet… shit’.

Let’s go and have a look, so now, once again, we’re whisked away back out onto the street in search of a wallet.

It wasn’t a big concern, only a bit of cash but it was definitely a foreshadowing event of things to come, and it was also a good excuse to get away from the back alley hospital vibe.
We retraced steps. We go back the way we came. No wallet and all the pubs are now closed so no people either. They all cleared out very quickly. Everything’s closed and now we have to wee.

After we wee in the street we realize ‘Hang on a second, we’re fuckin’ lost… shit’.
Where’s that back alley abortion clinic that Friend is housed in when you need one?
Two and a half hours we walked around for, Edith was pissed off and it really amused me actually.

Now we’re walking around, no money, no idea geographically, no people and no cigarettes.
More tuktuk drivers in a gang, maybe they can help, we saw heaps earlier so they might know.
“Hey we took a really drunk white girl to a place and now we don’t know where the place is…’

After some deliberation, conversation and group delegation a very kind tuktuk driver took us to the place free of charge. Thank you tuktuk driver.

Friend’s still out of it but at least now she’s visibly breathing.

We watch some horrible soap opera neighbours style music videos and I get yelled at ‘Television is great, watch more Television’, even if I wanted to, if I had the inclination I couldn’t because I don’t have a Television.

Sleep time now.

For $5 we sleep upstairs at the hospital in a funny little bed.
At 6am, after about 45 minutes of sleep we’re up again and back downstairs.

Friend wakes up now as well, the first question being ‘Where’s my bag… shit’.

Unlike me and my wallet, her wallet is important.

Passport gone, banks cards and the all the monies gone, and we have hospital staff telling us that they need $200 for goods and services.

None of us have any money, we have to leave and go and get some but they think we’re going to do a runner.

Once again we leave Friend to go in search of cash.

Firstly, I go and check out of my hostel (which irritatingly is just around the corner, literally around the corner), then Edith gets medical bill money and we got back to the back alley hospital, where they’ve called the police on us.

The Cambodian authorities in plain clothes and funny belts are there waiting so we give them cash and fuck off quick smart. Now we’re off to the tourist police to let them know what has happened and that somebody is passport-less.

The tourist police officer was a thin guy with tight legs who wrote everything down very slowly and very delicately.

More time, then we return back to the girls hostel. I thought of food and sleep, however me and Edith go out again and meet another one of her friends at a coffee place nobody knows exists.

The new friend has been in India and is now working in Cambodia for a while. She was very nice and we went to a Mexican joint for lunch with tacos and burritos.

It’s funny how I can be completely racist, in the name of fun, about places I know nothing about.

“Mexicano Mexicano with the tacos and the burritos. Se’ Por Favor Se’.’

After lunch I did get a nap which was good and at the hostel the funny Cambodian guy who showed me my room wanted to know if I wanted to smoke a joint with him.
I said no, I wanted sleep.

When it rains here it proper rains. Pelting watered bombed from the sky.
I’m getting the night bus to Phnom Penh and I considered canceling, but the rain stopped.

Heavy rains. The sustenance of the universe (sometime) and the laughter of the Gods.
Should we be abandoning the idea of God for progression?
Maybe we should but all the stories could, would and will bring me, the satisfaction of a story.

And that’s all we can want for. A good story, told from another place.

Steam mushrooms with rice next time we steam rice.

You know about the monsoonal (moonsoonic) rain that traps you inside. It’s to the point of embracing.

The food aspect. A massive part to society through the medias image of sexy and peoples justification of it from the alien source. Even when I eat, in public at least, I try not to eat too fast. In the Chuck Palahniuk book Rant, there’s a bit about if a woman goes on a date with a guy and the guy scoffs down his food he isn’t a good ‘root’.

This is the influence that holds me. I think people are watching me eat and I think they’re judging me from that on my sexual performance.

However, nobody is watch, nor caring.

All external factors are are internal judgments… or…
All internal judgments are created through external factors.

Explode! with the pen
like a bullet
Shrapnel from the other world
Here I stand and
there you stand and together
we can love
everything in the world.
Becoming iridescent of life and the soul.
For I am you,
You are me and
together we are everything.

{DREAMTIME 6/11/13}

Vivid colours and very bright.

Jane and I had an argument and I had to walk away. We were walking in the street near grass and a blue sky. When I left I started gaining speed to the point where I was flying along the street. I took a wide turn and I was in a crowded street where I spoke to a man with a beard. He was in a band and others recognized him but I didn’t (I really did but for the sake of my attitude and the image I wish the convey…)

Under a freeway, me and two others, and we’re planning on killing ourselves by drinking diesel. I started shoting diesel with chaser of diesel again (and beer). I never felt sick but I realized I didn’t want to die. I though the diesel would eat my stomach away so I decided to go to the hospital.

{Day 6 – Phnom Penh}

It’s too early in the morning for salad, but at Sunrise Tacos it’s never too early for tacos and in Phnom Penh it’s never too early for Genocide.


I wonder if they laughed, I wonder if they found it funny. The sickest people have the most warped sense of humour.

Or was it just a goddamn job?

If so, the people who delegated the tasks are still there, blaming others.

One day those sick cunts will get what they deserve.

A strange sense of Deja Vu looking at the photos of some places. I feel I’ve been there in a dream. Flash image.

Faces of the dead look back, look through.

I find Phnom Penh very BRAH!

Siem Reap is a more of a hello kind of place. Welcome to Siem Reap, we love you, whereas Phnom Penh is ‘Hi! Hi hi hi hi what are you doing? Hey what are you doing, you yeah you, what are you doing?’

At S21, I’m pretty sure a Cambodian student, around my age, told me to hurry up with my genocidal journey so I could teach him english.

I’ll cut it short here and go to the beach instead, maybe they won’t play sterile generic pop music there.

I’m the White Devil
Let my mind annihilate you on another level
Put you in bric a brac cells
with constant bells ringing and ringing in your face
Chain your arms down in a bucket, lift you upside down, you drown
Before I displace all your limbs,
tools from my medical suitcase.

The most expensive place here is the trendy hostel. They’re amazing if you give them more money and that’s the same with everybody. Just a bit more extra cash makes everything so much easier, relaxing and convenient.

If every action is done ‘by the metre’ than you’re just being a tight ass and you’ll probably get scammed and inconvenienced. Share some generosity through cash smiles and hands and they’re all your best friend.

They also think you’re funny in nail polish.

I connected with a kid today. I went to the bottleshop looking for a toilet.

“Toilet? Do a wee?”, it’s out the back. This kid that’s hanging out in the bottleshop leads me there.

‘I’m 8 years old’

“oh that’s good, do you like Angry Birds?”

‘Yeah, Angry Birds, I like Angry Birds, the toilet’s here.’, he opens the toilet door for me, ‘you can lock it here’ and he points to a lock. As I leave he asks why I have painted fingernails?

“For colourful. Colours.”
he finds it very funny and I leave, bye bye. I remember being a kid growing up in a pub, spinning out on all the strange characters walking through, wondering why they do what they do.

I got asked if I was from Israel because I look like Jesus, Jesus is my friend.
The song lyrics playing in the background was ‘love me or hate me that’s the question, if you don’t like me fuck you.’

None of these people want me to draw happy jellyfish anywhere. Silly people not listening to the silly jellyfish.

My first thought when picking up a glass ashtray is cracking somebody in the head with it.
Not anybody in particular, probably just the personification of society.

Walking back and forth back and forth with tuktuk drivers telling me 8 times in a few hours they’ll see me tomorrow.

“Dude, I’ll see you in about 3 minutes, I’m coming back”
Nobody wanted to give me change for $100 but wanted me to buy shit off them.
‘Have you had lunch? Have you had lunch?’
“I know you’re cleaning my room but I’m trying to have a nap.”
‘Yeah but, have you had lunch?’
“No, I haven’t, I’m trying to have a nap”
‘Mangoes, want to come and eat mangoes with me?’
“No. No, I don’t”
‘Have you had lunch?’
“Fuck it I’m up now, yes I’ll go and have some fuckin’ lunch.’

The red hot chili peppers are another shitty band.
At a party I was asked by some lad
‘if you could see and band at any time, who would it be?’
At the time I thought I was going to see the Jesus Lizard at All Tomorrow’s Parties in Melbourne. So the answer was
“The Jesus Lizard, I get to see them soon and they’re great… and the Melvins. I know they’ll be back soon” (I get to see two Melvins gigs in about a fortnight)
I realised I like just as many people now or at least my favourites are still going, as opposed to living in the past, kicking your parents for not birthing you for Woodstock ’69.

So I asked him, what about you?
‘I’d see the red hot chili peppers’
He could of, they were in Australia a few month prior.
‘Oh no, I would have seen them in the early nineties, when they started out’
“Dude, the red hot chili peppers started in the in the late seventies”
‘No they didn’t’
You’re right, stupid backwards hat lad at a party, what the fuck would I know.

The rain is so thin
A soft blanket of nature as water.
Giving itself sustenance
Caring for itself
Why can’t we do that?

Remember when Obama was running for president the first time and everybody was watching excitedly. I was, a black president, how great equality and change will be. The Tupac song Changes was used as a slogan and we thought true.

We were all distracted by the fact he was black that we forgot about the fact that he’s a politian.

As Paul Mooney said, the American black man is the most copied group of people there is. Go to any culture of white people, SouthEast Asian, or anyone who thinks they’re cool, all playing this weird gangsta California Love type music to “party” too.

Believe me, I know all the words like everybody else.
Warren G, Fat Joe, Tupac, 50 Cent, they love it like 2007.

Everybody’s Different Like Everybody Else

I don’t know if I find people hard, hence I drink or since I drink, I find people hard.
What a cycle.

It’s nice meeting people while traveling, discussing where you are all going.
If you have been to a place they are going you can get excited or dismal for them and their goings.

Completely unknowing in yourself, a place they have been to feel and advise you on.

Let’s film a TV show. It’s very educational.

Let’s get 4 fat white American men with moustaches and one African guide to white water raft after crocodiles and hippos. It’ll be really good for National Geographic.

Beg your pardon?
No it won’t be us infecting you, it’ll teach and educate.
What about? Well clearly the ignorance of people against nature.
Don’t worry, we’re experts.

No mirrors in the bathroom
No retreat to Vanity
Wear your skin untainted as it it’s yourself
and feel yourself pulsate through your skin.

A packet of twenty cigarettes for $0.65, that’s $0.0325 a cigarette.
A packet of twenty cigarettes for $16, that’s $0.80 a cigarette.
Besides healthcare, what’s the difference in cancer.

Where’s the scat man?

Or the scat cat for that reason.

I don’t really like OddFuture or Tyler the Creator but I was talking about killing bruno mars and I found out they were rapping about killing bruno mars so there must be some similar connection.

All we can do about it though is kill bruno mars.

Do it publicly if need be but he needs to be dead to better the world.
The last thing we need is people promoting laziness.

Who has a ‘girl of their dreams’?
Not the girl you like at the coffee shop or a beautiful woman down the street, but someone that visits them in the other world.
Different faces but the same being.
I know her from my dreams, if she’s a she, if gender really matters I don’t know, but maybe, who knows, she might exist in this reality.

{nelly the Rapper.}

‘Hey Boo, I’m gonna become a rapper’
“Oh hey Garth/Cornall that’s a great idea, you’re good at talking about how women leave you.”
“Yeah Boo, it’ll be great and I’ve come up with a really good name too… Nelly’
“Uh wait.. what.. Nelly? Where the fuck did that come from?”
‘It’ll show the bitches how compassionate I am’
“Alright, ummm… Listen Garth/Cornall, I don’t think we can be friends anymore. I’ve realized you’re a Fuckwit and I’m gonna end the relationship here.”
‘Oh Boo you can’t do this to me it’ll break my heart’
“Good, you’re a Fuckin’ Idiot. You’ll make money probably but it doesn’t deny the fact you’re Dickhead”

‘Oh no, my girl left me, I better write a popular “hip-hop” song about it.’

If you braid your hair – you’re weird
If you paint your fingernails – you’re weird
If you walk around the street with no shoes – you’re weird
Everybody is curious about the weird people
Maybe we’re always inclined to be different
or maybe society is stuck in its straight structures
Either way – that’s okay
Whoever is weird, whoever is straight is still just whoever
Who’s Ever?
You are Ever, I am, Everybody is, the trees the stars the bees the cars, We are all an Ever.
Never living, never being born, never for judgment, never dying, just being Ever.

I smoke too many cigarettes.

I don’t mind my alcohol consumption but I smoke too many cigarettes.

WhatEver it is that possesses me isn’t looking out for my best interest like a bad friend.

Notice how the blame is shifted. It’s either me or them. My consumption is them, Their pain is Me.

They’re after me, they’re trying to infect me and I’m trying to attack them on all fronts. I want to know why I’m in a battle but I also want to know who started it? Them, Me, apparently someone’s to blame who and why are covered.

How did it start?
When did it start? (a long time ago).
What has it started?
The journey I travel is influence by the War.
Luckily or karmaically, I have good people around me.

Why do you get to pour your own beer?
Do you work here?
The thought comes and I realize what fuckin’ business is it of mine.
You do what you do, I’ll do what I do and there won’t be interference, unless you start intruding on other people’s business out of the Hate, out of either personal or alien device.
The Thought.
The Idea of your own mind.

The Eternal Consumption Engine.
I consume through heavy alcohol consumption and cigarettes.
Other buy shoes, shirts, food, drugs, plastic bags and/or media.
We all consume the media though, it could be a different aspect from the same cloth.
We want or we give. You can make money or spend money.
I spend money on alcohol, bills and tax. The bills and tax seem unavoidable, but at this point…
I hate the consumptive aspect, the desire to spend but I feed into it like most others (all others, we all consume  food air water social interactions and compassions)
I battle my urge with satisfaction and guilt, which are the fast track aspects to an early death.
Well, everybody else is doing it.
Bukowski was 74 (odd), Burroughs was 78 (odd), my pop was 82 and my father’s not dead yet.
I think of a change, through a life partner, but how much pressure is that for them.
They can always love me but how can they change me away from me and why do I feel so open to it?

Who knows. Let’s smoke and think about the next idea.

Comparatively, and that’s the only way to hold a judgment, the Backstreet Boys don’t sound bad to whatever’s happening. Remember the descent. I actually quite like Alanis Morissette.
‘Do you think about me when you fuck her?’

I will build your decent for you.
However far you fall, call on me, I know.

I’m drunk, but I’m not a threat. Unless I’m violent or imposing you shouldn’t be able to say anything.

If people are loud to the extension impose violent dickheads or Irish, I should be able to get as drunk as I want.

No threat from me to others just the ability to shell. To not be one of you.

Beer pong is popular, which is good for the economy and beer sales… So am I!

At least there’s a productive aspect. Sure, they have a social aspect but lots of people don’t make something good.

It generally taints the experience, unless of course it’s getting drunk, which is very very easy.

So don’t hold merit in drinking, hold merit sustenance.

Ascertion is a good word
Avuncular is a good word
Alphabetically is a good word
Systematicist is a good word
so is Zebra.
Quantum leaps from horror to sex to language to death to rap music.
All I have to say is Snoop Dogg and Eminem are dead and there’s enough people around to take their place.

Looming blue curtains shut us in together
a very quick swift in music and atmosphere, luckily nobody minds.
Not minding the claustrophobic-ness or that the rain really puts a damper on the night, you can’t really go out in tropical storms/downpours.
Luckily I’ve been drinking all afternoon and sleep is a commodity at 9:30pm.
We’re also back on TLC scrubs argument, met with whoops.
Luckily it’s bed.

I can’t help at this time, I’m sorry
There’s too many barriers in the way at the moment.
If I could console you, together we could better ourselves.
But alas, not.
Until we learn to speak the language of it, it’ll just be dead air and a stare between us.

I have to get the fuck out of this place.
The whole thing seems like a sick twisted joke, but it’s on you.

Icecream for breakfast will be delicious, but it always puts an un-satisfaction in the day because whatever happens next, nothing can top icecream breakfast.

{DREAMTIME 7/11/13}

I went back to Sydney for some reason, a family thing or something. I got pissed off with my sister about moving back and forth between countries.

All my family and I were at what seemed to be Sydney Harbour and we were leaning on gates and everybody was swimming.

I jumped in the water just as we were leaving. I jumped and the force took me to the bottom of the water.

I opened my eyes and I was suspended in the water, with a bright flashing jellyfish in front of me.

I grabbed hold of it and floated back to the surface. I showed some family member what I found.

A plastic SpongeBob Jellyfish Toy.

Two white men sitting at the back of the bus, getting along like a house on fire.
They’re both in their mid-fifties and traveling alone.
One is a White South African, the other has a possible Russian accent.
They’re getting along a bit too well.
I think they’re pedophiles and they’re found their own kind.

Staring out the window and it’s raining.
I am the rain and the rain is me.
The bus is going slow and is rocking steadily, like a boat.
The sky’s sea is wavering from above and the vessel
I’m in is so many differences.

Don’t think too much, it makes you old.

At the Grand Palace, all these Tadpoles live in big stone bowls under lillypads, but where are all the frogs?

I’ve seen thousands of tadpoles and only two frogs.
As we walk out the palace doors, there’s fried frogs being sold at a stand.
“Oh, that’s where they all go”
Curiosity satisfied.