Where was I.. No
It was a few years later.. Nup
So I was walking through the..—Definitely not
Oh my oh my, how the time flies—nope, too generic, no one in the history of mankind with any semblance of reality starts a sentence with ‘oh my oh my’…
The countless times I’ve tried to begin this fucking saga of sorting out what to write, even where to begin, is ridiculous. It’s better to just hit the ground running, even if it means stumbling a few times while I try to find a rhythm. So I must ask you to bear with me, you’re going to be witnessing a live rebirth of a voice I’ve largely blocked away for the last few years. Panic by the Smiths is on repeat as I sit, stare and ponder, slowly adjusting to a quieter pace. Time is unforgiving enough without the subtle reminders that two years is a goddamned long time to be away.
It’s been just over two weeks since I landed back on the unfamiliar tarmac and clicked resume in Australia. The thrill of returning was exemplified as I was walked through the arrivals gate. I saw my ride immediately, a brother I hadn’t seen for two years. The perfect remedy for culture shock as the first words he uttered to me were ‘hey mate, you need a lighter?’ The drive was filled with catch-ups and jet-lagged logic. I was getting the skinny on everyone I had left behind, and it was just as I imagined. The old world had moved out of home and began it’s life . He chuckled at my surprise. Nothing (and no one) stands still, nor should it. Everyone moves one minute at a time— and missing 1,051,200 minutes is quite the story gap.
Trying to simply resume everything the way it was is not possible. Seeing some familiar and forgotten faces in the local area that haven’t altered a single atom is a stark reminder of the dangers of trying to hold on too tightly. Upon my grand return to the local dive, I crossed eyes with a bloke who gave me my first proper threat. It was thirteen years ago and he did it over the phone, so I wasn’t too surprised to see his drunken gaze slip right by me. The tired manner in which the security kicked him out later that night seemed to suggest that not everyone changes as much as I thought.
I don’t know.. Jesus, it’s just— inevitable to grow up for most of us. It’s a strange phenomenon to see it play out in front of you, involving the cast of characters you know so well from simpler times. It’s impossible not to feel that innate sense of not quite fitting back in. Now that I think about it, why would you.. It’d be a depressing damn world if everyone was exactly the same as they were. But the inevitability remains the same.
I suppose the best way I can describe it is it’s like skipping a few seasons of a TV show you were once familiar with. The characters you’ve come to know so well suddenly have different voices, different loves and sometimes different actors portraying them. There’s no way of easily dropping back into it, nor is there an answer to the riddle of how to feel less lost in times like these. It’s emotional whiplash at its finest. Even looking up is enough to feel a little bit smaller. The clouds are further out of reach here, the sky seems just a little bit higher. It’s not an original sentiment I know, that feeling of disassociation with the once familiar terrains. Ludicrously maudlin word choices there. Hell, I wasn’t off fighting any great war, no traumatic journey of self-awareness, but there was that unshakeable monkey on my back. That innate feeling of quiet.
I gotta say, it being 1 in the morning on a Tuesday.. there is a danger to overdosing on Youtube videos discussing Existential Nihilism and the Philosophy of Film. Don’t fret, I cannot even fathom the possibility of regurgitating the lessons here. Just stating the ingredients that are in this particular wordy cocktail.
Anyways, moving right along..
Hindsight memories are much prettier, once you realise that life is supposed to be fleeting. Accepting that you’ll never be able to recreate the same nights, the same stupid naivety, the same loves or the same blind spark that led so many tales before. Accepting this knowledge is a double edged flame. It won’t burn out if you see them as beautiful singularities in time. If you expect to light the same matchstick twice, you’ll be burned instead. Ah! Now we’re finding a rhythm— bittersweet, but never bitter.
Ooft…Don’t pay any mind to the lost ramblings of a confused traveller, the concept of ‘home’ will never be justifiably explored on a Guinness soaked Tuesday. For now I can share the feeling of confusion is definitely not unique to myself. An adventurous Aunt, an old friend and an array of ex colleagues have all shared a similar feeling of disillusionment upon their own returns.
So, now we get to the belly of this proverbial beast. What now?
Well, to distract from the quieter evenings I’ve begun to compile the stories I can remember that have a remote resemblance of relevance for others. Let’s be honest, a lot of our stories are subjectively relative. Everyone wants a story from the travels, but the devil is so deeply in the details that my anxiety addled mind can only string a few quotes and scattered flashbacks in the heat of the moment. The trick is writing it down for this mind of mine.
Since this is the inaugural post of a new page— I feel I can start with a slightly prologue-esque warning of the things to come. After all, everyone stretches and sculpts their own reality on the inter-webbed highways. Every snapshot you see has been carefully selected, crafted and framed (Oh yes, my particular love of socialite media will come to pass) .. So I’ll warn you, while every word you find on here came from yours truly. The truth is there but the facts may not always be verbatim, a story is a story after all.. Some names will change for legal reasons, hell, no one is exactly who they are online are they, and it’s probably safer for me to keep a low profile in some cases. Speaking of, I may need plenty of legal advice before this is over. Luckily, a few of the characters that have grown on are lawyers—one in particular definitely fits the Gonzo profile…