You usually see the question on social media sites: if you could go back and say something to your younger self, what would it be? Well, since it’s coming up to my 21st, I thought I’d write myself a happy 18th birthday card – since a lot has changed.
Sex, drugs, and alcohol are all gonna hit you like a train! And not just a Queensland Rail, a fucking しんかんせん. You’re going to see things, pierce things, meet people, and look at the world in a way you never thought you would.
Soon, you’re going to live in Brisbane, and that in itself is a Wizard of Oz story. You’ll play music, see music, be in theatre, see theatre, know the people in the know, and are still learning to be a bloody good journalist (if I do say so myself).
Some friends will slowly eventuate into nothing at all. Frequently. So don’t despair when it does. It’s apparently okay, so people tell me.
Along with a lot of happiness and hurt,
you’re going to feel like you’re going to die. But you’ll come out of it the other side.
And when you do, you’ll realise that you’ve been with real friends all along. From what I see anyway, it will be the most wrenching but the most relevant thing that will need to happen to you.
And as a twisted reward fate has in stall, that musician that you’re listening to on repeat? You’re going to be live with him. He’s going to think the world of you, you’re both going to be in love, and he’ll probably even know you better than you know yourself. Isn’t life strange.
Happy birthday, you prude. See you when you get here. 😉
(PS. The next Melbourne Cup winners are Fiorente, Protectionist, and Prince of Penzance. You’re welcome).
Featured cartoon: “Asylum Seekers”, Kemii 2014©