The girl from orchestra who can’t play:
the one with the pink bubblegum at orchestra
i think she had bubblegum
she lied to get in
I love that bitch
yeah she had bubblegum. fucken hell i love that little fuck.
her friend introduced me too her last week, even though we'd already met, and we pretended to introduce ourselves again.

there was this girl at uni. she said "are you in the modern epic class now?"
i said "no im in yesterdays class."
she said, "it's hard, having modern epic right after will's class isn't it. i love will's class. but modern epic is so pretentious."
i said, "i really love modern epic."
she said, "oh."
i said, "so you're screwed now, right?" coz she looked embarrassed.
she laughed nervously.
i said, "is your class too quiet or something?"
she said, "yeah, really quiet. is yours?"
i said, "no. it's really busy, talkative. because my regal arrogance reigns supreme. that's why i like it."
she smiled and said, "oh."
then she weirdly gravitated towards me for the next five minutes until i saw someone i knew who rescued me. even though i was a total bitch to her.
she seemed nice and bland.
i love thwarting nice bland people.
I lie. I wasn’t a total bitch to her. I kept talking to her. Actually I was helpful to her. Overall. Chatty and kind and helpful. Reassured her about where she was meant to be and the fun she was going to have.
I want that for a job. To stand around reassuring people who are going to have a bad time that it won’t be too bad, knowing it will be.
Institutionalised insincerity.
But was i not horrible? and yet she loved it. it is just my rule to be incredibly honest about ebverything. and see what happens.
I need to think about this.

Yesterday I thought how I am saying, what the hell are the rest of them thinking about all the time if not these questions that plague me/you and I?
And I thought, maybe they’re thinking about other people, and how to help them, and practical things they could do to make things better for others.
Ha!
I only thought that to be cruel to myself, and vindictive.
The park was full of birds this morning absolutely full of birds and birdsong, small birds everywhere in all the trees, and currawongs.

Yesterday:
am caught like shrapnel in a frozen blast between moods. i want to swallow myself.
my voice works today. it hasnt for months.

This is a pathetically appalling way to try to preserve myself.
It’s gone, gone.

OMG yes devoto is apeparing in a musicakl i think my dad told me,. no wait, i think he was bullshitting. he said something like "howard devoto is appearing as captain von trapp in a new production of the sound of music."
He was lying.

i never wear makeup
and sometimes i suspect
i must be some sort of
asexual fucking insect

my dad walked intoi th room yesterday, and said "i think we can all agree that permafrost is the greatest song every written, don't you?" (wrote this yesterday. Yesterday of yesterday)

the days all come in order they oughta be
randomised (I wrote that a couple of years ago).
It just came true for me again.

Yesterday (1, 2, 3)
i know, the insect thing just came out. when i woke up this morning, i thought, "hang on, make up only comes in white, beige. what do black women or really tanned women wear?" then i thought "they dont need to."

i drink fake tan
i drink fake tan

i was glad my dad said that. i remember at the petrol station when i was about 12 he had that song on in the car and i told him to turn it off because my mother was purselipped.

i see the influence. he was the biggest influence on my bad teenage poetry. which is the name of my third album, 'bad teenage poetry', btw. the use of repetition.

Written Sunday:
this morning my dad tells me when i woke up i sat up and said, "well that hardly follows, william. i don't see how bread that was stale yesterday is going to be any fresher today."
&
i think i have been turning into an ogre ovr night without knowing it, my body getting up and wlaking around beating this hurting itself, then going back to bed and waking up wondering why so exhausted.


remember, weeeks ago:
you'd make a poor medusa william (throwing the liver treats)

**

a couple of weekends ago we stayed on a farm near robertson there were animals, nothing around no habitation just the fence the field the moon and the cold. so beautiful.

evacuate, evacuate!

You are made of soapstone
A tomb lily an Etruscan mausoleum
Rose. Standing waiting,
Granite, in a hard vase, unwept
Unkissed. Always to stand and wait
Encrusted with your own
Petrified pollen – the accreted filth of ages
So obstructionist and cruel
You are the vacuum and the cul de sac of family history

Because the hymen was never broken
Nothing so dramatic:
It was simply worn through.


She clapped her hands together trying to trap time between them like a fairy.
‘Unbridled enthusiasm for the moment succeeding this one.’
Her face fell to the desk.
If I could stop a moment and stand on it. If I could just stand on one single moment, and see it below, and say, here is the moment I am at. But it passes, the moment you realise. It’s past. Was.

~Swimming Tragedy~

P.R. Comm and U.S. Yang were matched in the 200m freestyle. The starting gun fired with a flash and they were off through the water, moving at an incredible pace and picking up speed and yet hardly making a splash until they torpedoed with a final thrust to the finish line. Yang beat Comm by four thousandths of a second. Comm felt he had no choice but to shoot himself in the head. It took him 2 weeks to get a gun license, but thanks to new easy approval laws, he was eventually able to do away with himself.

His dear friend Litany made the funeral oration. Unfortunately she became tongue-tied with nerves and sadness and when trying to explain his death she was reduced to a very limited vocabulary, saying over and over things like, “Credit rating… Cable… Cable, ISP… Credit Rating… Provider,” until finally she was steered away by the bereft mother, who was finding it difficult to show her grief thanks to her recent Botox injections, courtesy of Boral cement.

Litany caught the bus home feeling depressed, and ran into her friend Disco.

“Hey, Disco,” she said, managing a smile, and then brought up her favourite subject: “Clothes! New, new! Make up and clothes. New, new style!”

Disco sneered at her, and rebuked her with a single word: “Retro.”

“Retro! Retro!” Litany shouted, converted, and then Disco sold Litany her own old sneakers for fifty dollars worth of discount coupons. Litany had sold the shoes to Disco the previous year in exchange for 50,000 CreditLine Promise Points.

Litany walked home in the sneakers, and found her brother Chip at the computer in the study. He had music on, some amazing high-pitched techno thing with chilled machinic rhythms.

“Whoa,” said Litany to Chip, “What’s the CD? It’s great.”

Chip rolled his eyes at her, “CD? That’s just the computer. That’s the noise it makes. The hard disk’s fucked.”

stay

stay

don't leave me bereft!

the whole world will evaporate with your last breath