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About Canberra

So we talk—me leanin’ on a lamppost, her smokin’ a fag. “Memory is a curse,” I say, nickin’ from the movie. She nods, like she gets it. Life’s beaten her down, but she’s still kickin’. I exagerate in my head—she’s a femme fatale, playin’ me like a fiddle. Ha! As if. Truth is, she’s just tryin’ to eat.

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The streets here, like Mayes Street and Lancaster Crescent, pulse with character. I hang out at the rough ‘n ready junction right where the old brick store meets the new cafe – scene so gritty it reminds me of those covert moments in The Lives of Others – “Maybe we’re all just hiding behind a mask” kinda feels. The little park near Browning’s Pond is my fav – totally underrated and perfect for a quiet brooding moment. Braking too many rules is what I do, mate!

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