I was first diagnosed with depression when I was sixteen. Clumsily, by a doctor who may as well have been doing a sudoku during the consultation. I went in to complain about not sleeping, which I had already self-diagnosed was caused by the medical anomalies of thinking too much and having complex sexual fantasies set in the speech & drama costume room. Next thing I know I’m being threatened with questions like “Have you ever felt sad?” and “Do you worry all the time?’ I said I had and did, but denied any suicidal thoughts. According to Super-Scientific-Checklist-Beard that …
Category Archives: StruthBeTold
A Story No Blogger Should Miss (Frankie – 2008)
August 6, 2008 – 9:53 pm
(This piece originally appeared in Frankie #23)
Dear Blog, Today I did this and said that and made this private joke and generally my grammar was terrible and I got myself into a situation with no dramatic tension or character arcs and I guess you had to be there. *SUMBIT*
Sound familiar? Yes, tickle me Qwertyuiop: it’s blog-o’clock! Enter the literary dark ages as a million volume omnibus of misspelled first drafts and textual healing is spammed out of Generation-Why? keyboards quicker than you can Yahoo! ‘line breaks please!’ Hey, don’t get me wrong, this influx in self-narration can only be good …
Wearing Pop’s Clothes (Frankie – 2008)
August 6, 2008 – 9:52 pm
(This piece originally appeared in Frankie #22)
After my Pop passed away last year I found myself wearing his clothes. This was nothing new. Back in 1998 when I first discovered op shopping I realised I had an exclusive treasure trove right under my nose. During a regular weekend jaunt to Nan & Pop’s I asked politely if I could inspect their wardrobe, and with the excitement of one passing through the ‘Staff Only’ door at Salvos, initiated a gangly, late teens version of dress ups. Whenever a fellow second-hand droog complimented me on my retro jacket it was with great …
Hair Today, Gonged Tomorrow (2008)
August 6, 2008 – 8:25 pm
There’s never a more vulnerable time in one’s life than when they step outside the door of the hairdresser’s. As a guy, the thought running through my head is almost always the same – ‘TOOOOO SSHHOOOORRRRTTTTT!!!’ Having abruptly cropped hair leaves your big goofy head exposed, like your face’s version of being caught with its pants down. With the central HQ of a fringe and straggly side bits gone, there’s nowhere for your forehead and ears to hide. You are destined to wander the streets, cheekbones freezing, trying to subtly peer at yourself in shop windows and jiggle your hair …
Dream Analysis (2008)
August 5, 2008 – 8:27 pm
It’s 7:13am Monday morning and I’m sprawled in my warm blue sheets having a dream. My girlfriend and I are sitting outside a beachside café while an aerial battle is going on. Two squadrons of about fifteen planes a piece are locked in frenetic oscillation, their khaki green bodies murky against the pale sky. Like the jerky direction of a Hollywood film, it’s hard to tell who the teams are. I sit entranced as they swoop, spin and somersault around each other, bullets and missiles cannoning in all directions, leaving wisps of grey morning smoke.
I pay attention to one …
Fucking Tinittus (2008)
August 4, 2008 – 8:30 pm
By the hammer of Thor! I have tinnitus. The alarm bell of my vulnerability is ringing in my ears. I’ve let the team down. I’ve hurt myself. I’ve quite possibly permanently damaged one of the most precious and valuable parts of my body. I’ve fucked up. (This is me being positive.)
A friend gave me a good analogy of Tinnitus. In some dormant volcanoes there are trees that grow inside. When the volcano blows, the trees are flattened, and never grow again. Inside your ear there are thousands of tiny hair follicles that pick up sound. When you are exposed …
Welcome To Mario Kart (2008)
April 16, 2008 – 12:20 am
They say when you’re lying on your deathbed thinking back over your life, you won’t be worrying about what job you had or how much money you made, but about the people you loved, in particular your one true love. Failing that there’s always your greatest races on Mario Kart 64. Such is the divine fun of what I am calling the greatest console game of all time.
Firstly, I’m not a gamer, but could have easily been. The last console I owned was an Amstrad CPC 464 green screen when I was fourteen that loaded games up on cassette. …
Greywater (2008)
April 15, 2008 – 12:19 am
I tip the last drops of water into my mouth and rinse out my glass, steering the tap lever up and left. Fluid thunders out of the pipe like tubular ocean – the Amazonian sound-spray filling my ears. The weight of a hundred micro-storms splice over my hand as if my knuckles were river-rocks. I stare into the black drain-hole as the raindrop tapestry pours like a dragon-wound, sluicing in with dish grit, and dissipating like a star. It’s been eight earth seconds and only now are the artificial cogs of man-churned electricity effecting the water. Gradually the temperature rises …
Food Slap Club (2008)
April 14, 2008 – 12:22 am
Who hasn’t watched Fight Club and thought: “Yeah – maybe if I smacked my friends around a bit I’d alleviate some of this pedestrian, inner-city tension. Maybe I am getting a bit soft. Have I ever even been in a fight? When was the last time I tried a ninja kick at book club, or a full nelson at Friday night drinks?” Naturally, you’d never follow through. Fighting is, as the aforementioned movie realistically depicts, quite bloody. We’ve all got work and school tomorrow, who can afford the black eyes and savaged teeth? No, Fight Club would just never work …
Fireworks, 1942, My Spiritual Checkpoint. (2008)
February 11, 2008 – 5:05 pm
For a change this year I spent New Year’s Eve on the foreshore of my hometown Burnie, Tasmania. While the lengthy stares from primitive locals and a muddy mix on the Bon Jovi cover band (Bad Medicine) were downers, the midnight fireworks were a plus. It doesn’t matter where you are, geographically or mentally, fireworks are always a good idea.
The ripe whiff of gunpowder and atomic whip cracks send your spirits down a psychedelic wormhole into the victory lap of your childhood. Pixel grenades paint bomb the dimensions in rainbow basted electro pastels. There’s a synergy in the synapses, …