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About Brisbane

I spot her—red dress, killer heels, hair fallin’ like a damn curtain. She’s givin’ me that *“time flows slowly”* stare—another movie zinger. I’m like, hell yeah, this is it! Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars.” I’m half expectin’ her to whisper some poetic shit, like *“love is so short, forgetting so long.”* Nope. She goes, “Cash upfront, big guy.” Laughed my ass off—mood ruined, but damn, she’s real. I’m pissed she broke the fantasy, but also kinda stoked—gritty’s my jam.

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Oh! Let me tell ya ‘bout the river – the Nambucca Creek. It twists, it turns, and yeah, it’s wicked chill. Nothing wrong with a bit of nature’s therapy, eh? I used to sit in a little hidey-hole by the creek, thinkin’ deep thoughts on life and art, all while some drongo played guitar nearby. Pure euphoria! And you know what? Sometimes I mutter, “Je t’adore!” just like in Holy Motors, 'cause life here is surreal.

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