Darlinghurst Days #3

The growl of the gravel truck, lumbering through empty city streets. Hydraulic brakes screech in the hollow night, broken glass spits over the tarmac... Police sirens puncture the two seconds of silence... black dogs prowl the edge of tranquillity... night horrors...

Time to take the road heading north. 

Bringing dark thoughts into the bright light

As I have documented elsewhere, most notably here, I have had personal brushes with depression and it even got to the stage where I contemplated taking a final and fatal route.

That has changed, it is off the table now.

The reason is twofold:
1) I have found new strategies to cope with dark days (which still come by the way) and they help to avert tumbling into a whirlpool of morbid self-reflection.
2) A friend of mine recently could not find a way out of his own particular maze and sadly ended up taking his own life. Such a desperately sad loss. But it is a loss that must have a positive legacy and it will...

More to follow.

The Eton Rifles

They are coming for you...

I was looking for a job and then... #4

Funny how CV's can invariably work against you. Just when you thought you'd got the right qualifications and experience... you tip over into "over qualified, too much experience". In other words, your potential line manager regards you as a threat!

Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200...

I was looking for a job and then... #3

And so... the online job market goes a bit odd on a Friday. Nothing happening.

So, I spent the day reading another one of the very fine 33 ⅓ series. This one was on Colossal Youth by Young Marble Giants. A beautiful album and a lovely book too. Reading about how Stuart, Alison & Phillip created one of the most wonderful records of all time. They relate to various different ambient musical/childhood experiences and it immediately evoked sounds (and visions) of my childhood that I hadn't heard (or seen) for decades.

The album's clicks, melodies and melancholy still allow me to drift beyond the first time I heard it to a hearth, a beach and a garden...

It's the weekend tomorrow, no jobs for the wicked, no blogs for the weekend*.



*Now there's a subtle link to a future post....

I was looking for a job and then... #2

My email inbox is bursting with a thousand jobs, none of which are in the slightest bit suitable or relevant. But I suppose it is good to know that there are jobs for other people out there.

The sun has shone for most of today and despite the slight chill that accompanies these dry Sydney winter days, overall it is very pleasant. I scan the bookshelves in front of me, wondering when I will have to start selling off some of the rarer editions I have managed to collect during the years. I'm working backwards, deciding on which one will be the last to survive. I suspect it'll be either the limited edition Bukowski or the ltd edition Billy Childish.

Of the older more regular books, I'll be pulled between either The Outsider or A Happy Death. Camus has always been a touchstone for me and I already feel comforted by the knowledge that he'll be with me until the end. As for music, well most of the stuff I know own is MP3 but of the vinyl, goodness knows what I'll keep. I've already had the horrendous experience of losing my treasured box of 7" singles (including a signed Tin Soldier picture sleeve) back in 1990. I won't be able to do a runner with a bin bag and a couple of adidas holdalls this time. But, who know by the time this train reaches the end of the track I might have jettisoned enough crap...

I keep glancing enviously at the drinks cabinet, wondering how long I'll give the two bottles of Jameson a wide berth. Meanwhile, I am trying to make friends with the local Magpie family. I was attacked by one on Sunday whilst out riding my bike and am trying to make amends before the whole thing blows up into a full on feud. I'm not sure of the best approach really but I'm starting off with a bit of friendly banter. Although I suspect food would be a better bet.

I've been unemployed before and I'm starting to remember the overwhelming joy that small glimpses of security bring amidst the crushing disappointment of a regular day. This is not going to be easy but then again nothing ever is, is it?

Until tomorrow...

I was looking for a job and then... #1

The marine clock chimes 11pm. the Tour of Wallonie is showing on Eurosport and in the background on my laptop Stewart Lee & Alan Moore are having a conversation. In essence the pair of them are trying to subvert the marketing process for Stewart's new book. And they are succeeding.

I have recently gravitated to Stewart's work. He challenges a fair few norms, despite still making a living from being a stand up comedian. I have tried to do that too in the professional consulting space but I have failed (so far).

Being unemployed and of an age where I might never get a job again, is on the one hand very liberating and on the other it is quite fucking scary! I have some money but not enough to buy a house, to live and never work again. I have some money, I don't need much more but I do need more. I am happy to work. I am by no means stupid; my voting record, record collection, reading list and dress sense prove that! But I might have been pulled back into the pack. I was previously in life's peloton and then in the foothills of my 30's I made a break and I got ahead of the main group. I took King of the Mountains points on that stage but it would seem that I went too early...

Stewart Lee and Alan Moore are now talking about 'Moby Dick in Outer Space'. I should really be listening to them but I have committed to a daily update on this blog until I either get a job or die. However, upon looking back from that full stop I realise that I have already written my first post and now is the time to sign off.

Until tomorrow...