My first view of SINK was a derogatory experience; a shaming light shining down the darkened path that is my exile. Forgive me for my hate infliction, but I’m banished to the Sunshine State and (ironically) the grass seems greener in the concrete collaboration that is Sydney.
I’m here crouched in front of my Macbook, with Neighbours feigning entertainment to my right… the poor performances and slice of life approach mock my own impoverished thoughts. However, I force the fake tears out of my computation and write my first submission to a magazine that (thankfully) inflicts a ravaging sliver of hope upon the weighing condition that is my “blessed” banishment.
I’m away from the torturous 6am walk home through King Cross, away from the scathing eyes of rental junkies offering me head at a discount price and dealers offering me the time of my life. Though the sickeningly sad truth is; after years away from Sydney, I long for the soft embrace of a looming dealer, or the jittery temptations of a terrified junkie.
I solemnly smile, my girlfriend/wife is sitting 78 centimeters away from me; completely content in her blinded vision of our perfect happiness… she must not know. My bastard son, which I might add I love more than myself, is sleeping silently… ignorant of how his father really feels, blissfully unaware of what life can really do to a man.
How did this happen? Well… bluntly – I didn’t wear a condom. Esoterically? Well that’s a concoction best saved for a fearful Freudian.
I’m sorry, but I won’t be dealing with this scenario right now, that requires me to dive in deeper than a Tuesday night of cheap wine will allow. I’m simply not prepared to pull out of this swirling abyss just yet… four more years anybody? Eighteen perhaps?
TV ads blaze in my left ear and raze my ambition, telling me to try a better dandruff solution, and my frantic fingers slow to a halt… I am hitting the end of a word purge. Like a Hemingway guppy swimming in a bowl-full of it’s own dissolution.
I look at my kid… my girlfriendbosswife and the dipping palm trees outside and I start to beg inside my head… Praying that I will one day be granted access back into the city of Sydney, hopefully with my kid in tow.
So while I figure out the next step, I’ll leave you Sydney readers with a piece of advice… Wear a condom – not matter what she says, wear a condom.
In Exile,
Maddox Heatley
Quite compelling Mr Heatley.
A chilling insight into the life of those in exile.
You have my sympathy. It’s well known that while Queenslanders will (in less graded moments) acknowledge the existence of states other than their own, the idea of actually living in one of these “other states” remains totally abhorrent.
I once expressed distain at Queenslanders fundermantal bias towards anything Queensland. Only to have one shocked individual responed by asking ‘Why would you want to live anywhere else?’
Poor guy didn’t realize he just answered his own question.
Come back.