Fingerprint dust

You would be surprised how hard it is to get fingerprint dust off a laptop.

I thought it would be easy, and for the most part it was, but these stubborn splotches of crime dust remain after a semi vigorous scrubbing gave way to a sense of apathy.

Perhaps its fitting that the white clings to the dark shiny plastic, clinging like a boil on an otherwise glorious piece of mans ingenuity. It perfect mirrors my dark mood on what can only be described as a glorious sunny day in Sydney.

My house got broken into again yesterday. But this one has really put a new slant on things. A couple of junkies kicked down our front door. It was a brazen act, between 11 and midday on a bright day within metres of the local shopping centre and a park with blissful children bouncing around on the rubber safety surface.

Redfern is a strange place to live in, and it only got stranger. Our new flatmate mark was home asleep, oblivious to the banging which goes on incessantly in our old house which predates electricity and indoor plumbing. It is complete with a winding web of plumbing and electrical conduit darting in and out of hastily crafted holes punched gleefully into the walls.

The kitchen ceiling sags with tired housewives that have spent time eeking out an inner city existence. The drains are clogging with disturbing regularity. Stubbornly refusing to clear. The door hangs loose in the lock, clicking with the wind, a testament to its recent shattering history.

The incident has scared me, has put me on edge. It has built on the fear and anxiety that has been brewing inside me for a few weeks now. The quiet despair that I had been managing to push away and ignore for most of my life. The constant fear that we all fear, but nobody can share.

After smashing the door, they proceeded to creep through the house like a bad dream. I can only imagine them making a deft leap up the stairs, heading straight for my room. They have been here before. They remove the plastic wrapping from the unused laptop satchel, and neatly pack the computer and charging cable with a calmness and purpose that can only come from one who has long ago forgotten what it was to have something to lose. There was no fear or excitement.

They place the package on the bed, ready for collection. Meanwhile, his friend returns from my flatmates room next door, new camera in tow, box and all. They meet downstairs to discuss some further ransacking.

All this coming after that slow descent into sadness that occurs when you realise that your dreams are not coming true. That your hopes and dreams are falling to pieces. That you have not achieved, that you have not spoken. A slow grinding of the soul that builds with every frustration. With every fear.

Its the land of frightening realisations, the truths that are plainly clear but pushed to the dark recesses of consciousness. Keep your mind busy, or make it fuzzy. Stop the thinking, stop the pain.. make it go away. Its not that bad.

So our groggy flatmate hears the voices and opens the door to find two people in the living room. Stunned he questions them, they mumble something about a girl who they followed, and casually stroll past the splinters and bent screws. Back to their life.

Meanwhile I was staring at the oversized screen of the brilliant new uber mac, dealing with the frustration of crumbling systems and overarching annoyance. The constant frustration and denied elation that has characterised my most recent attempt at being all that I can be.

I want to blame the place, the people, everything that is bad about the world. But I know it is probably me, still drifting endlessly in the sea of addiction and paranoia. A world of small ups and mighty downs.

I stared down at my phone as it rang. Swiping the silent button within a second, pondering of the need to answer. Then the sinking feeling as the story unfolded.

I didn't lose anything except a shattering of the bubble that surrounded me.

It's only three days until the nightmare is over. The door rattles in the wind, the sink is blocked. Cockroaches continue to encroach, the place is a mess, but nothing compared to my mind.

I want to find that happy sunny place, where nothing will wipe the smile off my face. The land where I have energy and spice in my step.

The dust is settling, but proving hard to dislodge from the frail skeleton of the life that once was.

A taste of crime

Our little house in Redfern isn't your average, or so I thought. Sure it has had its fair share of.. police activity. It has always been something that has flowed over me, never really affected me too much. Then a simple act of a child thief climbing through a first floor window has brought a certain sting to experience of recent times.

Not so long ago I was driving home and noticed a more than normal amount of people congregating on the corner and a lot of shouting. As I stepped out of my car without much of a second thought, arguments and shouting in are not uncommon around her, my attention shocked my senses an almost comical scene for a sunny afternoon.

A portly, balding man in in a cardigan steps forward towards another aged who is gingerly backing away. The cardiganed gentleman is brandishing a large kitchen knife above his head, shouting and threatening the bestpectacled victim. Immediately my heart is thumping around my like a shoe in a dryer. I don't claim to be a brave person.


As they come towards me I back away, and the shouting of the old Greek wife, I assumed, of Mr Cardigan Kitchen Knife. She is walking behind him screaming all kinds of extended noooo's, followed by some Greek that I could not quite catch. Its an image seared into my brain, and makes me wonder what had happened. But nobody knows.

I ran inside, drawing the curtains as the shouting roved around, with the Steel Cardie beginning to threaten pretty much anyone in the crowd of people that had formed. The call to the cops was rather useless, as I am sure they were already on their way. However it was a strange experience to relay information to the person at the police station.

That was the second time I have ever called the cops. Except to report a missing phone. It makes me wonder whether I should be living here. If I should be living somewhere 'safe'.

And... then... yesterday... someone stole our laptops. 2 were under a week old. What a shame.

Colin the Whale.. EPIC FAIL

Today the radio, Internet and television is abuzz with the news. Colin the whale is dead, he has been "euthanized". Why do we care.

How far have we gone from understanding the world we live in. If it isn't Vegans proclaiming we are 'past' eating meat, its the whole of Sydney letting out a collective gasp as this precious little whale slowly starves to death. We now have Wildlife activists confronting National Parks and Wildlife officers claiming that more could be done to save this "precious creature".

Not only this, there were vets giving hourly updates of his condition, plans to spend thousands, possibly millions towing the whale out to sea. Feeding plans, hairbrained schemes. There were even reports of a costs of up to $2 million being considered to rescue 'Colin'. Some of these using the Royal Australian Navy, who are supposed to protect the inhabitants of Australia, not to interfere in a natural process.

This is yet another example of why I am pro whaling. Kill the little fucker and drag the carcass out to sea for the sharks. Add him to the food chain so other animals may live.

Can we please stop focussing on a stupid fucking whale. This is nature, this is life.

Animals live, animals die. There is no such thing as a humane death in nature, that is for sure. I dont see anyone protesting the tigress when it takes down a deer with ist powerful claws, half kills it, but leaves enough fight in the Bambi look-a-like to teach her cubs how to kill.

Its a disconnect with reality, with the way things are. A mental disease. A blight on our society.

It causes hordes of 16yo to become vegetarian for a year. People protesting fur, and getting taken seriously. And mulesing is to be "phased out" due to a bunch of whingeing retards./

Enough of this folly. Please.

Take a reality check and realise what the world is. You wouldnt protest a mountain or a cloud. Why would you protest other parts of nature?