Some form of loneliness will likely always live within. A site such as this - and there are many - only makes it louder. Whereas a sky scratching black cockatoo above a feral black dog, yesterday in the bush, makes far more sense. All the best.

First day of the month and my foolishness is finally flagrant, hidden no more behind fermented scented masks.

JG says he has been going through a ravenous reading spell of late, and brought his latest batch of books he's ripping through along with him on the road. I did most of the driving. He's not the best with a manual transmission, much preferring an automatic, which he believes better suits his aristocratic bearing. Some of the titles I saw: Hitch-22 (a memoir by the late Christopher Hitchens); The Quantum and the Lotus (something to do with physics and buddhism); the poems of Emily Dickinson;…

The doctor’s observation, after ruling out various possibilities, was that: The more contact a person has with the media, the more he complains of feeling lost and isolated.

Certainly that could be so. We’ll see how it goes. So far there’s been a significant withdrawal from the perpetual digital noise and chatter (there are enough voices scrapping for prominence in my head as there is) but the sense of feeling lost and isolated still persists, and can easily be found in the so-called…

JG asked me to make a delivery and pick-up today, up in north Katoomba, near what’s called Minnehaha Falls, which makes me feel eleven again and wondering whatever happened to that Minnesotan maiden I met and mindmarried two weeks before her twelfth birthday, way back when.

I had to drop off an unwanted computer printer (pristine box, bubble wrap and all) and pick up, from the lady in the lovely old miner’s cottage, amongst other things: a large jar of black olives, a jar of homemade…

If a man calls himself by initials, you can assume he has been asked why that is so on more than one occasion, so what's the point in asking again? It's the same with a scar I suppose. So let's move on. My housemate calls himself JG. Jay-Gee. That's fine with me. If you say it enough times it sounds like a foreign name you've just not come across before. Before Christmas we met up by chance in the city and went about Glebe drinking Czech beers and Scotch. He was due to meet up with someone…

Leeches were feasting on my calves. That's how muddy it was out there in the bush today. They were only first noticed when I was getting in the shower. Somehow they made themselves up my trackpants leg. They're not something you see much where I come from. They were smaller than I would have expected, the leeches. What I would have expected was something you might have seen in the movies. Like that one with the boys out in the bush in search of a dead body they'd heard about. Only I don't…