Who's this cowboy....?
Since starting back in the rat race, the 9-5 world of pre packaged sandwiches and semi fresh California rolls with too little wasabi, I've felt a void left unfilled. I felt that something was amiss. Something just wasn't quite right.
Know what I'm sayin'?
Well, today, this morgen, just then....I was invited back into my past, I was pushed into the vortex of what was once was quite the norm.
I took on the mornings overcast and slight drizzle with contentness oozing from within me. It felt beautiful to be walking in synch with the droplets beating upon my glasses....Even if it was difficult to see properly. I didn't care though, I was loving it like a Bagel with Cream Cheese.
I approached the next block of buildings at a sturdy pace, little did I know I would soon be running for my life....ShitSTIXX
He emerged from the bushes in his normal full regalia....Caramel cowboy boots, high waisted jeans, purple top and a black vest.
The second I saw him, it all came flooding back to me.
I first saw this man....Lets just call him Cowboy, near my old house in St Kilda, near the tattoo place on St Kilda Rd....He takes really long strides and scabs cigarettes, all the while screaming randomness at people and no one in particular. He used to sit out the front of this building each and everyday at the same time I'd leave, I swear at one point I thought he was either stalking me, or he was some kind of constant reminder to be pure and true and stuff.
So Cowboy emerges from the bushes, carrying shopping bags and I know I'm screwed instantly, "Fucking cowards, stupid migrants, you know I'm right, come ere?!"
Shizzle be nizzle ma grizzle, I took to a quick pace instantly and almost crapped ma dacks because I was smoking and no one else was around....weird arse for St K's Rd @ 10am yeah? Twilight Zone yo...."ah no! He's gonna scab, he's gonna scab.....he's coming for me....he's gonna talk to me...." Just a few examples of my thought pattern at this point in time.
He puts his arm up into the air and starts waving it around, anyone who hits up Bananarama actions at 10am in the morning is either @ REvolver or mentally unstable....two of the same really. But anyway....He picks up his pace and instantly my ears get that feeling, you know the one when you just know someone's going to hit you, or someone's talking about you, or you did something wrong and think your gonna get busted. . . . or , or , or, wotevs?
Yeah, that one....I start to jog at the point of...."COME ERE MIGRANT!"
F*ck me, I never realised how Euro I look......But then again, I suppose if I was still tripping on acid I purchased in 1964 I'd see migrants everywhere too....(Seriously though, thats one bit of acid that lasted 40+ years....wot a super investment ING yo)
Then the arm starts jerking around violently, as if he's a puppet on a string or sumfin, he was almost convulsing.....By THIS time I'm running. I flick my cigarette to the grassy nole, almost hitting the Americana Embassy yo, the security guard no doubt had more info to jot away on my profile....(More on THAT another day....lol!)
Finally, peace, freedom and solidarity.
I was safe under an umbrella, although I was shaking like a leaf and in the fetal position before one of my coffee boyfriends came and took me into his arms, and then into his establishment.
Oh Lordy.
ODE TO COWBOY:
You took acid
I feel for you
I really really do
But when you chase me
You scare me
THE END
Know what I'm sayin'?
Well, today, this morgen, just then....I was invited back into my past, I was pushed into the vortex of what was once was quite the norm.
I took on the mornings overcast and slight drizzle with contentness oozing from within me. It felt beautiful to be walking in synch with the droplets beating upon my glasses....Even if it was difficult to see properly. I didn't care though, I was loving it like a Bagel with Cream Cheese.
I approached the next block of buildings at a sturdy pace, little did I know I would soon be running for my life....ShitSTIXX
He emerged from the bushes in his normal full regalia....Caramel cowboy boots, high waisted jeans, purple top and a black vest.
The second I saw him, it all came flooding back to me.
I first saw this man....Lets just call him Cowboy, near my old house in St Kilda, near the tattoo place on St Kilda Rd....He takes really long strides and scabs cigarettes, all the while screaming randomness at people and no one in particular. He used to sit out the front of this building each and everyday at the same time I'd leave, I swear at one point I thought he was either stalking me, or he was some kind of constant reminder to be pure and true and stuff.
So Cowboy emerges from the bushes, carrying shopping bags and I know I'm screwed instantly, "Fucking cowards, stupid migrants, you know I'm right, come ere?!"
Shizzle be nizzle ma grizzle, I took to a quick pace instantly and almost crapped ma dacks because I was smoking and no one else was around....weird arse for St K's Rd @ 10am yeah? Twilight Zone yo...."ah no! He's gonna scab, he's gonna scab.....he's coming for me....he's gonna talk to me...." Just a few examples of my thought pattern at this point in time.
He puts his arm up into the air and starts waving it around, anyone who hits up Bananarama actions at 10am in the morning is either @ REvolver or mentally unstable....two of the same really. But anyway....He picks up his pace and instantly my ears get that feeling, you know the one when you just know someone's going to hit you, or someone's talking about you, or you did something wrong and think your gonna get busted. . . . or , or , or, wotevs?
Yeah, that one....I start to jog at the point of...."COME ERE MIGRANT!"
F*ck me, I never realised how Euro I look......But then again, I suppose if I was still tripping on acid I purchased in 1964 I'd see migrants everywhere too....(Seriously though, thats one bit of acid that lasted 40+ years....wot a super investment ING yo)
Then the arm starts jerking around violently, as if he's a puppet on a string or sumfin, he was almost convulsing.....By THIS time I'm running. I flick my cigarette to the grassy nole, almost hitting the Americana Embassy yo, the security guard no doubt had more info to jot away on my profile....(More on THAT another day....lol!)
Finally, peace, freedom and solidarity.
I was safe under an umbrella, although I was shaking like a leaf and in the fetal position before one of my coffee boyfriends came and took me into his arms, and then into his establishment.
Oh Lordy.
ODE TO COWBOY:
You took acid
I feel for you
I really really do
But when you chase me
You scare me
THE END
posted by Jelkie at 5:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home