Saturday, September 20, 2008

You Will Never Know

I live life to stare into your eyes; to randomly give you those hugs I give you; to give you piggy-back rides that make you laugh; to call you 'til we're too tired to even speak sense.

I love that little pony tail you have when you work; the way you scream when you are absolutely stoked; the way you worry about everything; how you are better than most.

I wake up in the morning happy knowing that I will be seeing you soon; ecstatic to be visiting you at work; hoping to bump into you somewhere; to see if my phone blinks blue with a message waiting from you.

I listen to your voice because you have something worth saying; to songs you tell me to download; to songs that put what I feel for you into rhyme; to just relax.

I go to work hoping you come in for free chocolate; to work an entire shift just to watch the windows for your beautiful face; to sleep at night just waiting for one more message.

I like you for the person you are;
I love you for the gold you hold in your heart.

Friday, September 19, 2008


Late last night I found myself receiving luck from all angles; yet this afternoon I left the hospital with only my mother.

Hospitals are a generally depressing place, drab choice of paint colors and a scent of anaesthesia and death, but how about the death of feelings, the final gasp of misconception? From the point of admission to the time of discharge, you finally know who just cannot give a fuck about you any more.

The worst feeling was probably walking out half drugged expecting my mum to be speaking to my best friend that only lived moments from the hospital and the girl of my dreams to have now come and gone due to her exam at one, but she was alone and had been since I left, and slowly but surely, my successful day surgery had just transformed into the evident death that comes with anything of this nature.

In these situations, you don't deal with death well, what I thought at eight o'clock walking through those doors was not what had happened walking out of them. I told them not to fuss, that the surgery was going to be nothing but they insisted on coming, but without the warning I deserved I had to find out the hard way that they, indeed, did not make the fuss.

Been home since two, laying here sipping a chocolate protein shake, trying to keep my tears from falling into it, next to a full packet of Mi Goreng noodles that had been promised to be waiting here for you when you said you'd be here with me because I needed you, but the noodles are lonely...but it isn't a surprise because so am I.

I don't know what changed with you guys in the chunk anaesthetic stole from the life of Ryan somewhere between eleven o'clock this morning through to one o'clock this afternoon, but what I do know is it's left me in bed alone for six hours with nothing but this phone you broke the news to me with and you out having fun, only a one dollar fifty bus ride away...but you guys will never spare that loose change because something died in that theatre today, and it certainly wasn't me.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

I Won’t Go Down In History, But I Will Go Down On Your Sister.

The reasons I watch Californication:

Oh, and this next one is just for Harb.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Robbed of Principle

When people see me, I like to think that they see me as someone that tells it like it is, pretty much the type of person that wouldn't do this.

So, let me explain first, for most of this year one of our very trusted Max Brenner supervising employees, Joan, had been pocketing large sums of cash from our Parramatta store, everybody that wasn't apart of the managerial staff were aware of it and some all of us even played an unintentional part in it. Now, I never had a part in it, but when you stop think about it, yes I did. At the store there are about thirty employees, including myself, translation, at the store, there are about thirty employees that spent nine months of this year with their mouths closed.

Now that you know the story, there is one big question I have to ask myself, did I totally misconceive my ability to use my mouth? While sitting with Mum for hours on end bitching about the bunch of cowards I work with that had assisted, which, in the initial process, are the ones that handed the money to Jo as business hours commenced every night and, more importantly, had no intention of ending the cash flow funding her new digital camera or her trip to L.A. a few months back, I became one of those cowards I was bitching about. Coward isn't all I was, we were all sheep, strung from Jo's fingers, all made to look like fools, a place I always promised myself I would never get to. For the last nine months, I worked so that Jo could pay her PDA's phone bill, and all because I consistently kept my mouth shut, all that I had to say was three words, each no more than two syllables, they were 'Jo is stealing', but not even one of those words left my or anyone else's lips for that matter, and that's why the Parramatta store of Max Brenner is no longer the functioning team it was this time last year, now we're nothing more than a bunch of idiots.

Last week she got caught. Now, I am not too clear on the details, like how she was caught out and how the company is dealing with it legally, all I know is that she obviously will not be working with us any longer. So, when Almog, our area manager, comes down from head office and personally asks me 'Why was nothing said for so long?' What is it that I am meant to say, that I wasn't the person I thought I was, that I am just as bad as everyone else that wore the logo while this robbery was happening, that I had my eyes stretched open but my mouth sewn shut, because up until now, I wasn't that person that just stood by and watched events go down, so how come I let this happen for so long? Maybe I am that person and just never knew it.

You see, I never helped Joan steal the company's money, but I certainly had a hand in it, and that makes me just as much a criminal as she is; that goes for the rest of us that remained silent. So, finally, a special thank you to Joan and the voiceless staff of Max Brenner, especially the ones that continue to hide in the shadows to this day; believe me when I say that nothing will please me more than leaving this fucking job as next year progresses.