bone machine

the best thing about being away is having a boy at home telling you he misses you. and/or being able to tell that boy that you miss him and really, really mean it.

and suddenly 100 hundred suburbs don�t seem that far apart compared to 500kms.

it�s nice to feel something again. even if i am being a bit clingy. my poor phone bill. but sometimes, at night, i just wanted to hear the sound of his voice.

i look up from the copy of spin magazine im reading and see the signs about zipper merging painted on the road. welcome to the australian capital territory miss trigger-cut! the act is a fucking wasteland. how anyone can live in this baron, flat, hole is beyond me.

and it makes me think of canberra boy, for the first time in i don�t know how long. i want to jump out from the back seat, grab the wheel and head to his house. sit on his bed and listen to his copy of north 6th street, let it calm me. thank him and then walk out, back to sydney.

because, me and this guy, even though we haven�t spoken in months, we share something special. we stood together and talked to matthew caws, and discussed songs like robot, mother�s day, river pheonix, and hollywood with him. with the person who sings these songs. holy god.

the architecture in the snowy mountains is ugly as hell. we throw around the word chalet and pretend all the snow we ski on isn�t man made and we build these ugly houses that are pea green with steep roofs for all the people who live on the north shore have somewhere to stay every weekend when they drive their shiny, untouched by dirt 4wd�s down the hume and the monaro highway towards the australian alps and pay massive amounts of money to go up and down all day on ski lifts.

16/07/2004 22:59

light | love