Earlier on today, over his birthday drink and lunch, my friend suggested I write a book. Not knowing why he would suggest such a thing, I later found out because I am "dramatic and insane", and apparently this would look good on paper.
So, here I am. It's 15:15, a drowsy looking day. Sitting in front of my computer like every other bloody afternoon; and thinking what it is I should write about.
Welcome to my memoir.
Coming home to your straight edged mother smelling like a burning marijuana bush and eyes red as sunset is not the coolest way to end your day. Coming home to her freaking out because she found filters all over your bedroom floor, and thinking you turned into a junkie (I admit, that was so funny - I mean, she thought I used them to aide in shooting up... And it took her a while to understand that people can actually roll cigarettes. No, mum, not all come pre-made.) and having to hear her endless shouting and whining all night is definitely not the greatest way to end your day.
Not turning up to school and spending all day, every day getting high, drunk, running from cops - having fun and just not giving a fuck.
Needless to say, growing up, my parents had severe trust issues with me. And I never realised why, until now.
It's funny how you can turn out.
Present day Boat = no drinking, no smoking, no drugs. Going to TAFE and rocking the shit out of it. My life has become boring. Is this what it's like to be 'grown up', because, if it is - I don't want a bar of it. Well, except the TAFE bit. That's too cool to give up.
I hate not having any money.
The tree.
One of my favourite places to be in this world, a safe haven if you will, is my own backyard.
Half of it is just concrete, and the other half is grass, scattered with fruit trees and an old asbestos chicken coop, just fading away in the far corner.
My old, falling down rental and it's backyard has a history, has character, and unfortunately - an ant and rat problem.
You can't miss this beast of a tree. Even if you were blind, you'd walk straight into it's embrace.
This thing is MASSIVE. Probably, one of the oldest trees still standing in this town. It's easily a good four stories tall - though I wouldn't be surprised if it were taller. The canopy of it is amazing. I conclude that my writing will never do it justice - so here are some shitty pictures.
This thing is majestic. Magical.
There are certain things in life, that give you that feeling... I don't know how to put it... orgasmic? Not in the sexual sense though. Things that make you feel high, elated.
She is one of them.
(Yes, my tree is a 'she.')
Reading this all back, makes me think that I really have no idea on what I'm on about.
I don't know how to write in order, titbits make sense - so that is what you'll get.
16:21. Why is there dub step playing on my laptop? I never put this on...
So, here I am. It's 15:15, a drowsy looking day. Sitting in front of my computer like every other bloody afternoon; and thinking what it is I should write about.
Welcome to my memoir.
Coming home to your straight edged mother smelling like a burning marijuana bush and eyes red as sunset is not the coolest way to end your day. Coming home to her freaking out because she found filters all over your bedroom floor, and thinking you turned into a junkie (I admit, that was so funny - I mean, she thought I used them to aide in shooting up... And it took her a while to understand that people can actually roll cigarettes. No, mum, not all come pre-made.) and having to hear her endless shouting and whining all night is definitely not the greatest way to end your day.
Not turning up to school and spending all day, every day getting high, drunk, running from cops - having fun and just not giving a fuck.
Needless to say, growing up, my parents had severe trust issues with me. And I never realised why, until now.
It's funny how you can turn out.
Present day Boat = no drinking, no smoking, no drugs. Going to TAFE and rocking the shit out of it. My life has become boring. Is this what it's like to be 'grown up', because, if it is - I don't want a bar of it. Well, except the TAFE bit. That's too cool to give up.
I hate not having any money.
The tree.
One of my favourite places to be in this world, a safe haven if you will, is my own backyard.
Half of it is just concrete, and the other half is grass, scattered with fruit trees and an old asbestos chicken coop, just fading away in the far corner.
My old, falling down rental and it's backyard has a history, has character, and unfortunately - an ant and rat problem.
You can't miss this beast of a tree. Even if you were blind, you'd walk straight into it's embrace.
This thing is MASSIVE. Probably, one of the oldest trees still standing in this town. It's easily a good four stories tall - though I wouldn't be surprised if it were taller. The canopy of it is amazing. I conclude that my writing will never do it justice - so here are some shitty pictures.
This thing is majestic. Magical.
There are certain things in life, that give you that feeling... I don't know how to put it... orgasmic? Not in the sexual sense though. Things that make you feel high, elated.
She is one of them.
(Yes, my tree is a 'she.')
Reading this all back, makes me think that I really have no idea on what I'm on about.
I don't know how to write in order, titbits make sense - so that is what you'll get.
16:21. Why is there dub step playing on my laptop? I never put this on...
