All my dirty dishes are half full glasses.

These days move faster than Alex in a Durango.

Night skies are gone before I can even adore a star.

The birds fill me with rage equal to burning feathers.

I wipe my dry eyes.

Precision. Extract it out of that meatbag, haired skin n bones, poor excuse for a human body that you rest in.

Beat that lump of organic mass until it coughs up some form of dignity, pride and honor.

There. You got it.

I build my brain back into the eyesore of a wall it usually is.

The cigarette helped.

Now, I sit... watching frail smoke rings get eaten by a cheap oscillating fan.

I gather my new thoughts.

Things always look to be changing.

From a young age, I've thought that you shouldnt rely or depend on anyone in life but yourself.

So far, I have had to break this rule a few times. Every time I did, I regretted it.

About to get back to my old hustle. I figure why the fuck not? I aint doing shit. I can't get normal work thanks to my criminal record and finger tatts, so yeah... caution to the wind and warnings to cyclones.

Not much time left anyway, not that expect anyone out of my loop to understand that. Nothing Mayan either.

While talking to a friend the other day, I realized a lot of my friends had given up smoking weed and doing drugs this year. Hanging up their lungs. Which led me to think that if breathing was equal to walking, then smoking was like running. I'm never going to stop my Olympic training. WORD TO ME.

I should probably be a whole lot more angry/emo at life. Why though? What's the point? I know I'm calm and I look for the positive in most situations, but that's a commodity that never changes, and when everything seems to be in a constant state of change, you really need to know what your load bearing pillars are. I am well reinforced.

I'm a good person living a bad life.
Right place, wrong time.
Dirty dishes. Half full glasses.

Bite The Bullet

I figured it out!



I should stop trying to figure it out.



I should leap before I look. At all times. Life is too short for looking. Plus, what the fuck am I even looking for? What are any of us looking for? Neon signs with arrows?



I say fuck it. Let's fuck it.



Dilly Dallying is just a silly British sounding term so fuck doing that.



Instead, I'm going to wear my sleeve on my heart.

I'm going to throw caution to the wind underneath my wings.

Instead, I'm going to go.

Greed is Good

1997. I'd been doing housebreaks all year with no remorse. In fact, I remember being somewhat full of pride for crime statistics in my area. Pretty sure I managed 5 in the space of less than 5 hours one day. Anyway, I digress. I had walked across the road into the suburb of Nollamarra and had 2 friends following for lookouts and extra baggage handling that might or might not occur.



I see a house. I knock with my newly thought out plan of sizing up if anyone was home or not. Someone answers, I ask if they've seen my mythical pet dog. No one answers? I knock harder. No one answers still? I walk around into the backyard and start wedging screwdrivers into window frames.



So no one answered but I can hear their neighbors in their own backyard doing gardening or something. I make sure to watch my every step so as not to crunch any wayward leaves or other obstacles that would make them suspicious to my trespassing. I find a back window. I begin cracking the window. Slowly so the neighbors can't hear. I push my screwdriver over the cracks, directing their breakage for minimal noise and maximum spacing.



After getting enough window broken and out of the way so I can get through, I get through to a teenager males bedroom. Laser disc player in bedroom? SCORE!!! VCR in bedroom? i can get 50 bucks for that VCR! SCORE! Rockford Fosgate Subwoofers?? SCORE!!! I walk into the rest of the house, like a kid in a candy shop mixed with a bull in a china shop. I notice another VCR in the lounge room. SCORE!! Fuck grabbing TVs. They're far too heavy and it's summer. I start looking for bags to put the VCRs and laser disc player in. I get them and situate them and both VCRs in the initial room I entered into from outside.



I hadn't bagged shit up yet. I got to thinking. These people got cash. They have just got to. Either that or gold. So I decide to start looking harder in spots people would hide shit in, i.e under mattresses, under bottom drawers, that kind of thing. While doing so, I hear a noise come from outside. I think nothing of it. Then I hear a more pronounced noise. A car door. That was definitely a car door. I immediately head for the teenage males bedroom that I have the bags and electronic equipment in.



Now, the hole in the window wasn't immensely big. I was focusing on quiet n quick, not comfort. Climbing through on the way in wasn't easy because I was trying to be quiet and the small size. Needless to say, sound was the least of my concerns exiting.



I do a superman head first leap through the hole in the glass.



I make it through cleanly except my foot. Stupid shoe catches it. Glass breaks more. I land on hands n feet like a cat and keep on moving. By this time, I am positive that I have been noticed. I head around to the side of the house, away from the driveway, from the back. Shit. A mass pile of broken dead branches n shit. Shit. There's no turning back. In a fit of instinct, I launch myself towards the tight massive pile of sharp, pointy garden refuse.



Somehow, I manage to flick myself over the fence from in between a branch and the house while running at it full steam. Now I'm in the neighbors front yard, full of momentum. Shit. Neighbors have a dog. Turn into Carl Lewis and zip past it and then jump the neighbors front wall into the street, all without missing a beat.



My nikes hit the bitumen. I hear the front security door of the asian place I was trying to rob. No rest for the wicked. Keep running. See lookout and additional hand. They give me a puppy-like sideways confused head look. I yell at them to run. I look behind me to see an asian male in his late 20s, early 30s, trying to catch me as hard as his little legs could possibly go. We easily lose him as he isn't willing to leave his house all open for very long and plus we weren't going to let him catch us, one way or another. After wards, all pissed off, hot from the heat and chase, I find another house to break into. That one was successful.

Look where your tukus took us.

Dropped off face n had to run while puffing a cig to make the train to the city. Made it. King me. Now I wonder if it was worth it. Die regaining breath infront of lifeless people while listening to a song about a persons ending. My head is starting to hurt from my lack of train tickets. 12 mins til the thornlie train leaves. Everyone scurried like rats. I concurred. Make it on that train, lazy eyed and hazy brained. Sit across from an indian version of zelda n other mythical creatures. Just another weekday.

You Flaming Mongrels.

Dark Rooms, Bright Lights.

know the margin.
it exists.
an invisible barrier yes.
but to cross it is never a good idea.
lines are drawn in the sand.
habitual line steppers appear everywhere.
a repellant there is none.
rampant biting occurs.
i sit wondering.
life.
why wont it stop dropping a dime on me.
pick one up for a change.

a fistful of quarters was one of the best documentaries ive seen in a minute.
im on some fuck billy mitchell, go steve wiebe type shit. for sure.






1.watch king of kong.
2.realise billy mitchell is a douche.
3. ??????
4.join team steve wiebe.

Warming up to the idea of being cold hearted.

around 3 months ago while riding in a friends car, i saw a guy get run over by a car.

i once saw a car accident between a toyota FJ60 2 door 4wd utility and a shitty hyundai once years ago. it was like slomo and i remember it quite vividly coz i quite close to it. i think i was waiting for a phone box at balga bazaar coz i just got a 500 dollar loan from cuntrelink.

balga. its a strange place. i had a friend once upon a time. lets call him ronald. now the time is about 1996 and ronald is only 13-14 years old. ronald had a sister. she od'd when someone gave her heroin while she was already passed out on it. at the time heroin was everywhere. all my friends from school were using it. i saw quite a few of them od and need ambulances. ronald was with me and another friend in staying away from using needles and just smoking weed and taking any and every thing else. ronald was doing well. he was quite brazen for his age and his love of fast driving and cars aswell as dirtbikes just added up to him stealing all kinds of vehicles and bringing them back to wherever people he knew where at so he could show off. we ran into him walking in mirrabooka one day and he started bragging about how many cars hes had lately and how many police chases hes lost. we tell him to bring one past our house and go back home. within 2 hours, just as the sun was setting, we hear sirens. walk outside for a cigarette. we hear an engine revving very hard but sounding like its in vain. i look right. i see ronald. hes driving a beige 1986 ford laser and theres smashing noises coming from his backseat when he takes corners. haha. funny guy stole a car with plates in the back. he proceeds down the street followed by 2 paddywagons, a marked car and 1 unmarked chase car. we were pretty amazed with what we just saw and started instantly talking about. we quickly piped down when we realised that we could hear the chase if we were quiet. it was all tyre squealing, engine revving and sirens wailing. then it dawned on me. it was getting closer. he brought the chase back past again, the exact same way he came before too. he had also gained more of a buffer over the chasing police cars, of which there were now 3. amazingly, he did this 2 more times, making it 4 times past our house with one chase. we saw him 2 days later. we asked what happened afterwards. he tells us that he got forced into a culdesac in a newly developed area. when he went to hit reverse, a cop smashed the drivers window and tried stopping the car. he said that he just stabbed away with his flathead screwdriver that he used to steal the car with. he thought he was sure that he stabbed through that cops arm, but he ended up losing them and getting away. later on down the track, ronald ended up using heroin too, using needles and whatnot. it was sad to see. i think the only reason he started using was because all the other top thieves were junkies and he had alot of money sometimes from stealing that i guess, it was a way to celebrate when he got it. anyway, moving on. i used to know another lil dude around the way back then.....

i first met nathaniel* when i was 14. i was ditching high school down at the quick stop lunch bar in mirrabooka. he was only 11 then and mad short. aboriginal kid. wearing adidas and nikes. all dirty n shit. i was trying to get people to buy me smokes out the front. he asks me for a smoke. i tell him what im up to. he asks, if he helps ask people, will i give him a cigarette. i agree. while waiting he asks if i want to buy some jewelry. i laughingly decline. he tells me about driving stolen cars while sitting on a double stack of yellow pages. no one had mobile phones back then. so after i got cigs, i bounced, but over the next 3 years, i saw nathaniel around a bit. he used to hang around ronald alot. after my housemate and i found a few stolen cars in row, which i will get to later in another story, peeps like ronald and nathaniel looked up to me and my friend. we used to call nathaniel our lil gangsta. then, one day i broke into a house, and got 2 weed plants, 400 dollars, 4 model cars and some gold chains. i was happy keeping 2 model cars and 2 chains out of the 4 i had, and nathaniel told me his uncle that he lived with could sell them easily for weed/cash. we were like yeah, whatever but didnt tell them others what we had. long story short. his uncle didnt come back with cash. i ask nathaniel about it. he tells me that his uncle always takes whatever he steals and sells it to buy alcohol, tab betting slips, cigarettes and drugs. when he tries to stick up for himself, he gets beat up for it. he reminded us of a few months earlier when he had a black eye. that was because he asked. i wanted to go there and punch dude in the face hard. but nathaniel told me he has swords n likes prison. he wasnt worth that. so instead, whenever we went out stealing, we brought nathaniel along, and always made sure he got his cut. we told him to put some in his sock so his uncle wouldnt get all of it. he ended up accumulating quite the little saving fund til he blew that on cartons of stinger drinks and bags of weed. i once saw nathaniel throw a rock at a kids head, close range and connect... blood, kid crying like a girl and nathaniel loose in verbal rage, forcibly being ushered up the block. it happened at sunset. that same night, i was riding a diamond back bmx through a red light at high speed at peak hour. cops pulled me up for reckless riding. i didnt even know that charge existed. they let me off coz they had another call over the radio. something about a bunch of youths gang bashing a guy at the local video store. it was a thursday night. i later see the gang doing the bashing at my house later and they shout me weed. good times.

i was a career criminal. i know this because i used to seek methods to stay awake at night to steal. i once took acid. it wasnt a very smart move. i started out at around 1am, when i bolt cut a bike lock at the mirrabooka bus station. now portable, i thought to go spend the night/morning breaking into cars and seeing what i could find. first car, bike waiting on stand in next street. i use my screwdriver to pop the rear quarter panel window. no prob. i look at the house.
i coulda swore i saw the curtain move. but instead, i convince myself that its just the acid and that the curtain didnt move at all. then all of a sudden, the front door bursts open and some big burly guy is rushing at me yelling obscenities and im running like the wind towards my bike. i get to it but i cant jump on. hes too close. plus im off my face. hes right on my tail as im running with the bike. i let the bike go without remorse. it ghosted n stacked, right infront of the guy chasing me. couldnt of timed it better. i just kept on legging it down the block and across the road until i could hide or find something else to get my hands into. later that night, after several failed attempts of criminal activities, i find a stolen 1985 ford laser or as we used to call them, a bubbleshape. it was go fast red. there was 3 cans of spray paint in the car so i drove it down to the bus station and sprayed the whole joint. it was just daylight. like 5-6am. i then took it to a massive grass oval and did burnouts n shit for a good 20 mins then drove it out to the industrial area in malaga and did burnouts for 10 mins or so. i was thinking, i could maybe wake up my housemate n partner in crime up for a morning joyride. he wakes up, we jump in. less than 1 min into the ride, we see a police car drive past us. they double it back. we hit a side road with a park on it. i jump out while the car is still moving. i forget my shoes in a backpack with a bunch of screwdrivers in the car. my friend who was driving, had his door jam, causing his departure from the car to be not as speedy as mine. in the long run, he got caught. i had run down 1 street on the other side of the park and was hiding under a mister whippy van. i see the cops drive around looking for me with my friend in the back of paddywagon. it was around 8:30am by that time. i remember running past a family of 20 walking down the street.