It’s been busy here in Melbourne, although I’m struggling to write this dairy at the moment as recently I’ve found myself worrying about what people might think of me, rather than writing anything honest or real. I don’t want to be dishonest, yet I fear to present an unsatisfying narrative – because as I have said before, contentedness doesn’t make for a particularly riveting read, and content I am. And so I generally compromise and write nothing. It’s a strange thing I find myself doing now, then: posting an article into a very public sphere, with an introductory caveat explaining how very shy I feel. An odd dichotomy indeed, but there it is. Olé! Continue reading
backpacking
Melbourne: I Ruined Christmas
Christmas struck Melbourne last week, much as it struck the rest of the world. Of course, it went tits up. Continue reading
Melbourne: The Secret Wardrobe Piss
Good DAY to you sir,
I say, it is quite the downpour outside. It is positively tropical, and it is certainly very noisy as I sit here alone a-typing in northern Melbourneo, because I live in a converted warehouse, and the roof is made of tin or some other noisy metal; may the lord protect us if it hails. My bedroom is steadily flooding from some unseen leak as I type this and I do not know what to do so I have evacuated to the kitchen table, which has a marvellous view of the Queen Victoria Market and the skyscrapers of the Central Business District. I ate a bacon, egg and sausage sandwich for breakfast. I have not been drunk or had a cigarette in two days. I am doing tremendously, old chap. Continue reading
Melbourne: Just… Just Going Absolutely Mental, Really
Right I’ve had me morning coffee and I intended to start writing this immediately after – because when I’m all mad post-caffeine tends to be when I write the best – but I got distracted going through old photos for about an hour and the rush is wearing off, so you will have to forgive me if every single word henceforth is fucking crap. Continue reading
Australia: Pig in the City (that’s a Babe 2 reference by the way, I’m not dubbing myself a pig, shhhh)
Hello you sparkly bastard,
I’m afraid today’s must be a short entry only, for I am quite preoccupied with this hectic business of carving a life out of the sandstone that is Melbourne; I say sandstone over any other rock because, like sandstone, it’s seems the case that the moment you get it hewn into a satisfactory shape, it falls apart. But let’s start at… oh, I don’t know, the beginning, shall we? We can adhere to convention just this once; it’ll be our little secret. Continue reading
Australia: South of Eden
What? What? Don’t look at me like that, you. I know I haven’t been writing much recently, and I’m sorry, alright? I am sorry. I’ve been dreadfully busy fluctuating between absolutely smashing life and being absolutely smashed by life. I am in Melbourne now, apparently. Not sure when that happened, but there you go. Continue reading
Australia: A Relaxing Day at the Beach (Alternative title ‘SO MUCH BLOOD’)
Everything is changing again. Continue reading
Australia: Shipwrecks and Acid Trips
Hello you handsome bastard. It is I, Daniel Scott Hackett, first of his name, come to teach you a lesson. And by teach you a lesson, I do of course mean tell you of each and every silly thing that has happened to or around me for the past fortnight. Continue reading
Australia: Mount Warning
I’m leaving the farm! I’m leaving the farm! Calloo, callay, I’m leaving the farm! Continue reading
Australia: Unravelling
I have now been in Australia for two months and three days. Work has finally begun on the blueberry farm, which means that, although I am far from moneyed, I am no longer trapped. Eventually, whether it be a week or a month, soon enough I will be continuing with these slapdash adventures. Continue reading