Monday, 17 September 2007

Reincarnation dream led to suicide, Thai daily says

The following story was taken from the website below

Asian Political News, June 21, 1999

BANGKOK, June 18 Kyodo A 14-year-old schoolboy who hanged himself last Sunday, had told friends he wanted to die so he could return to life as a Japanese game designer, the Nation reported Friday. The newspaper, in a front-page story, said Withit Khamphirarak kept telling his friends and relatives he wanted to die so he could be reborn in Japan and work as a game designer.

In a suicide note, Withit began with "My Last Night," the opening phrase of a song in the highly popular CD game "Final Fantasy," with which friends and family said he was obsessed. He went on to tell his mother to keep his savings and to give his toys to his three cousins, the Nation said. "Withit's mother, who asked that her first name be withheld, said her only child had recently demonstrated the extent of his obsession after watching the science-fiction film 'The Matrix' in which the main character infiltrates a virtual computer world to fight villains," the Nation said.

Withit, a ninth-grader at a Catholic school, hanged himself late Sunday night using a rope and a door frame, according to the daily. "He was last seen drawing Japanese comic characters as well as acting blind, like one of the characters, after watching a television program with his cousins," it said. His mother was quoted by the paper as saying Withit started reading Japanese comic books four years ago, then began playing computer games, before starting to create imaginary characters on his own.

He named them all in Japanese, based on those in the books and games. Withit's mother added her son had also told relatives and school friends he wanted to be able to speak Japanese, and had asked them how to make a living in Japan, how to be reborn Japanese, according to the daily.

A classmate of Withit was also quoted as saying the boy had suggested a few months ago that they jump off a building together in order to be reborn in Japan and work as game designers there.

COPYRIGHT 1999 Kyodo News International, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2000 Gale Group

Sunday, 19 August 2007

Epilogue - Part Two

"You may find it hard to swallow the notion that anything as large and apparently inanimate as the Earth is alive. Surely, you may say, the Earth is almost wholly rock, and nearly all incandescent with heat. The difficulty can be lessened if you let the image of a giant redwood tree enter your mind.The tree undoubtedly is alive, yet 99% of it is dead.The great tree is an ancient spire of dead wood,made of lignin and cellulose by the ancestors of the thin layer of living cells which constitute its bark. How like the Earth, and more so when we realize that many of the atoms of the rocks far down into the magma were once part of the ancestral life of which we all have come."

James Lovelock
The Ages of Gaia

The end is the beginning and the beginning is the end (see prologue part one). Following on from the last post regarding the idea that we are all currently in a game, well basically I have discovered that yes we are in a game, a very complex game that we call life.

Yes thats right folks life is a game, its official, God told me last night. And you might be thinking well so what, we know that, its called Second Life, but if you thought that, you would be wrong.

You see I think that we would all agree Second Life has nothing on First Life or real life, I mean if it was using the number two to indicate its similarity to real life well that would be problematic, for in reality at this stage in its development it would be more appropriate to call it Five hundred and seventy sixth life, because while it has some amusing simulations of reality, fucking seems to lack a certain something in Second Life compared to real life. Anyway getting off the topic again.

Nick Bostrom from Oxford University wrote an article that proposed the idea that we are all living in a computer generated reality, read the paper here. While information at provides further detail on this idea.

You see I have been wondering and wishing for the answer to this question (is life a game) and then out of the blue what do you know but God, the bearded bloke appears, grey hair, white gown, halo the usual shit. Anyway, so he says "You may have already realised it but yes I am god, and you see son I have come here to answer your question about the keening, I mean, the meening of life, and yes life is a game. In fact this is Earth version 4.2, which is marketed in this part of the universe as, 'A crazy fucked up game planet where all the most sordid bullshit imaginable is available to you all, yes thats right souls if you want chaos, debauchery and action of all sorts be born on earth and have a hell of a time,' so you can see that earth is about as rough as it gets in this part of the universe. "

I was shocked could this be true...........well God was here so I begged him to tell me more. At which point his shape began to change and his skin went blue and suddenly he had on all this jewellery and he looked like Krishna, then he began to change again, and shifted onto the ground legs crossed his belly began to grow and his skin turned back to a more normal colour, he was Buddah, he shifted again, he became a she, hanging on the cross, blood oozing from her hands she was Jesus, he was Mohammed, she was Mary, he was Zoroaster, Abraham, Moses.................................

God continued to change shape and from his mouth came this message, "That which is Below corresponds to that which is Above, and that which is Above corresponds to that which is Below, to accomplish the miracle of the One Thing."

(All material copyright © GR Klein 2007)

Friday, 27 July 2007

Epilogue - Part One

"By law of periodical repetition, everything which has happened once must happen again and again -- and not capriciously, but at regular periods, and each thing in its own period, not another's and each obeying its own law."
Mark Twain

It would seem as if I have finished the first draft of my novel. I have been working on it intermittently for about 4 years. Just before starting work on "The Meening of Life or Dave Didnt Sleep Well" ,I had received the first hard copies of a new non-fiction title I had completed, and was quite elated to be holding my first published books in hand.

They were generally well received and I have just completed a second edition of this title. However, the point is that while working on this non-fiction title I realised that I had a story that I wanted to tell. A very personal tale about my struggle with heroin addiction. Getting my non-fiction writing published gave me confidence as people seemed to like my style and it was just the thing I needed to kick start the novel writing process.

I had copious notes and diaries with ideas I had been working on and I decided to compile them on the computer and finally get down to writing a novel. So off I went thinking it was going to be so easy........Two years later I had published another non-fiction title as well as writing articles for a range of publications. However, the novel was still a work in progress.

Another couple of years slipped by and I was progressing but at very slow rate. It was emotionally draining digging into my past to recall all the shit I went through and stupid things I did, and I found in the process I came to a number of points in the story where emotions overwhelmed me and I had to cease writing.

But I persevered and now feel like the first draft is completed. Originally it was just going to be a story about the drugs but then I realised that there was more to this drug caper than meets the eye. Everyone can see what drugs do to people, they can see how they act, how they look and how they sound, but you cant see how they think. You don't really know what got them to that point. Just like everyone else they were once an innocent child, what happened to bring them to this. It also got me thinking about the nature of reality, life after death and yes that great old cliche, "what's the meaning of life?"

So I took my real if experiences and mixed them with my musings about reality and the meaning of life. To ensure success I have heard the often quoted rule, "write what you know" and in this case I did just that. Like many authors before me Orwell, Greene, Hemmingway, Vonnegut, Bukowski and many others I would use my life experience as the basis for this my first novel. Sure names were changed, locations altered, people deleted and experiences exaggerated but the essence of what I experienced is the basis for this work.

I have always been an avid gamer, starting way back in the dark ages of computing with the clunky Atari 2600, proceeding on to the sleek Spectrum 48k, and bounding forward with the great machine that was the Commodore 64. Still love my games today and regularly find myself respawning in the deserts of Iraq in Battlefield 2. Since my teens I have always been fascinated with different religions with their varied explanations for creation and their diverse sytems of dogma. So in this story I thought I might combine two of my passions and employ them as tools to tell my story.

While I love my games today I am certain that the games of the not too distant future will be of the totally immersive style (as discussed in Chap 7 Dreams - This is a game Planet). So I thought why not mix the concept of RPG gaming with the concept of life on earth, because they have a lot in common. When you are born you are a stranger in a strange land, and spend many years learning how to use your skills and navigate through this place. When you enter an RPG game you spend some time learning the interface and overtime become more proficient, and begin to acquire the knowledge, skills and networks to advance in this world.

The gaming system that I describe in my novel can mimic any environment or situation and hence this offers infinite possibilities, but it also presents us with a few conundrums. What is more real the experiences in this rendered world or those in your 'real' life? Do allow you 'real' body to become emaciated and completely addicted to gaming, while you experience bliss and triumph in cyber space?

We all crave experiences that are not readily available to us but with this technology we will potentially be able to have any experience we desire.

Why do some junkies die and why do some get clean and survive or even prosper? Well I guess everyone may have a different story or a different reason or excuse or situation, but there are commonalities.

Anyway I will continue to work on refining the content. I sent a draft of my novel to a publisher and they said ,"Chapter 24 is the greatest example of your writing....", which at first sounded good and then I remembered that there were only two words in this progress. Also the content in chapter 41 needs some further elaboration to enable this concept to be fully conceptualised, and yes the whole bloody thing has holes in it, I know and it is driving me nucking futs..................oh the humanity!!!!!!!!!!!

Also I am very aware that there are a number of continuity issues that need to be addressed, a line edit needs to be done, parts of the story need work...........So I am not really finished at all, just a like a mirage as I get closer to the end of this book it seems to slip from my grasp.

But just one more thing, are we in a game now................................................Ok so what if we are or not, I mean what difference does it make.........................................or does it?

(All material copyright © 2007 GR Klein)

Tuesday, 24 July 2007

Chapter 42 - The Leaning of Mife

"Live so that thou mayest desire to live again - that is thy duty - for in any case thou wilt live again!"
Freidrich Nietzsche

So here I am again, in the water, is it the womb or am I in the kolto tank gaming again, is it a respawn or am I alive again, did I ever die, or will I just spend my days going around and around and around again, just like the ouroboros, eating myself I am born and eating myself I die, all the while I know the that hitchhiker was right, it is 42.

The wheel of the universe turns and with it comes new life, we are born into samsara.

Well so they say anyway, I mean who the fuck really knows what happens, but one thing is for sure we will all find out soon enough.

Wednesday, 18 July 2007

Chapter 41 - We are all in this soup together

“A miracle is nothing more or less than this. Anyone who has come into a knowledge of his true identity, of his oneness with the all-pervading wisdom and power, this makes it possible for laws higher than the ordinary mind knows of to be revealed to him.”
Ralph Waldo Trine

Traditional science taught us that in order to understand something you reduce it to its component parts, in a process called reductionism. Systems thinking challenges this notion by showing that there are no smallest pieces rather it is how the systems work together that is the most salient factor to consider.

Furthermore, maybe there is no smallest unit of creation maybe as you go down to these smaller levels you find that there is endless regression. When you get two mirrors and face them against each other you can see an endless series of reflections.

They say that the microcosm is a reflection of the macrocosm. In each cell of a human being exists the complete DNA that is required to recreate that person.

Neutrinos are particles that are so small that they can pass through what we consider to be solid objects. As we go down to the quantum level there are no solid objects and there are no borders, everything is one. There is nothing that separates us all but our thoughts we live together in this soup.

Which reminds me of a conversation I heard between Jessy and Raj.

Jessy was sitting in the lounge playing some guitar, on the floor around his feet were dozens of nitrous oxide bulbs. The ones you get for cream dispensers anyway if you fill the cream dispenser with the nitrous and suck it out you get a great buz and from the looks of it Jessy had been indulging himself.

Jessy had done everything. He was a charming fellow, very intelligent and had an outstanding memory. He could quote extended passages from all sorts of programs but he spoke incessantly and was a very poor listener.He mentioned once off hand that he had been diagnosed with Aspergers, which kind of makes sense.

When I first met him I was suspicious – there was something wrong – something that didn’t quite match up. He mentioned he had been an army officer, completed two degrees, had been a journalist, a scientist, musician in a successful band and a range of other varied roles, all by the
age of 28. Because he spoke continuously you never had a chance to ask him in detail about these experiences. He spoke with confidence and authority on most topics but would often expose gaping holes in his knowledge about particular issues which would lead to an argument in which he steadfastly refused to listen. He spoke with an English accent, he had lived most of his life there.

“Oh yeah, I was in the army alright, did 3 years in the infantry and ended up as an MP. Oh yeah, Yes sir no sir and lots of it. But I tell you what I was one of the top soldiers in our unit. But I mean hey we were workin our assess off. Ya know wott I mean, yeah we fuckin worked hard but hey, you know we were soldiers and all so you kind of took it in your stride, know wott I mean “ Jessy said

“Yeah I love it all, know what I mean, its like they brought in the biggest load of shit you have ever seen and dumped it all on the parade ground, mate these blokes were in the shitter, know wot I mean”

“So what did you study at Uni?” , Raj stopped tinkering with his car radio.

“Me, study, well I have a done a few things really, know what I mean, I did my journalism degree first and then went on to do Physics, we were working on the technology for mobile phones, know wot I mean” But then I thought maybe, he wasn’t lying, maybe he had done those things, but not in this timeline, maybe he was aware of the alternate worlds and thus spoke with such authority. Or maybe he was just a liar.

Raj was paranoid. He was certain that he was being watched by undercover cops. Raj had been awake now for 3 days solid and his nerves were fried. Every time he started to wind down he would have another blast of speed, and away he would go. He was convinced that they were bugging his car, and so he decided to dismantle it piece by piece just to be sure. He was sitting in the living room holding the chasis of his car stereo, completely dismantling the unit, this was the only way that he could be safe. Raj had a cleft palate, or hare lip, he was a great guitar player, and had a stripper for a girlfriend.

“So Raj where are we now dude?” , Jessy asked with a mischievous look in his eye

‘What do you mean?”, Raj was fiddling with a small screw that was stuck

“Well if someone asked you where you are right now what would you say?’

“Oh so you mean, like ah I’m here in Brisbane, yeah.”

“So you’ve got the idea, where is Brisbane?”

“Well its in Queensland

“Yeah and where exactly is Queensland?”

“Well it’s in Australia of course, this is stupid man, I need to find these fucking bugs how much longer does this go on for?|", Raj was looking annoyed.

“Just a couple more questions then we will be done, Ok so where is Australia?”

"The Southern Hemisphere."

"Where is the southern hemisphere?"

“Well its on Earth I guess.”

“And where is Earth?”

“Its in the Milky Way Galaxy”

“Great so where is that, where is the Milky Way?”

“The Milky Way well I spose its in the Universe”

“Yeah spot on, now my last question is where is the universe”

“The universe is, its ah well its in the …..damn well must be in the universe. “

“That fucks you up doesn't it, you see it really challenges our notion of reality...........or something" Jessy, giggled like a school girl, while Raj just shook his head and kept looking for the bugs.

Chapter 40 Game Over

``If patterns of ones and zeros were ``like'' patterns of human lives and death, if everything about an individual could be represented in a computer record by a long string of ones and zeros, then what kind of creature would be represented by a long string of lives and deaths?''
Thomas Pynchon

December 2035

I came back to reality, I had completed the game. I realised I had been in THE GAME and that I must go back to my real job as a consultant at the sleep disorders clinic.

But I got some great ratings, in fact it looked as though I was the best in my pool of players which meant I could go onto the next round. Furthermore, I had been asked to appear in a new GAME based on a movie called “Midnight Express” which I was keen to do, although I did not want to get typecast as a drug addict. I mean sure it is interesting but when people see you in the same game over and over again it tends to limit your options. If someone offered me a slot in the GAME conversion of "Trainspotting"

I would relish the chance but at the same time feel concerned about where this heading.

But despite this I was elated a winner, needed, recognised and applauded what more could I want for, but I didn’t sleep well I was excited about what tomorrow held in store.

December 2005

When I woke in the morning I was quite surprised. I found that I was strapped to a bed in a small white room with padded walls. There was a fluorescent light on the ceiling that flickered on and off, its life fading. I watched the rhythmic flashing and wondered, I knew that it was good to wonder, that curiosity lead to insight and discovery.

I read in the paper that , “A fallen businessman who made millions out of internet pornography has been injecting $4,500 worth of heroin daily, a Brisbane court has heard. Greg Shiraz Lasrado, 35, of Kenmore Hills in Brisbane's west, was released on bail after a brief appearance in the Brisbane Magistrates Court charged with possession of a dangerous drug.”

“Now David, have you come back to reality yet? Or are you still focused on your delusions about THE GAME?”

“You know Dave you were right, it is a game inside a game, inside a game………………………………………………… infinitum”

I turn on the TV and watch a bloke who is speaking , “The whole event is an illusion created in your mind, a game inside a game inside a game, that’s what life is a never ending fractal of events, like so many Russian dolls one inside the other”, the power faded and the TV screen flickered and then faded into black.

There is no GAME, I am in Walston Park Psychiatric Hospital. The doctors are trying to eradicate my persistent delusions, as I lie restrained in a straight jacket and dressed in a white gown, what the fuck.

I cant handle this shit, after weeks restrained I escape and take a jump from a 5th story building head first into the concrete, GAME OVER.

The Timeless zone

"So little soul what did you learn from your time on earth? ", God asks.

“Yeah, life is a game inside a game inside a game”, I said.

I paused for a moment and then continued, "The universe is a universe, within a universe, within a universe, within a universe, within a universe……………………………Life is an illusion, drugs are an illusion, within an illusion called reality. The end is the beginning and the beginning is the end, like a lotus flower within each petal of a lotus flower. "

“Not quite, but shall we say, you are making some progress, what else did you learn?”, said God.

"Well God, I guess the final lesson for me in this game is that earth is seriously fucked up. I mean they are fucking destroying the planet, slaughtering the animals on mass, polluting the water, killing the trees and becoming obsessed with most inane bullshit. I mean at present on earth they have this thing about sex and like whether you like to screw people of the same gender or the opposite gender, and they kill each other over that. They fight wars over who really knows god and has his ear, and they all say that killing is wrong yet everyone of these religions has been involved in war at some time.

“Sexuality poorly repressed unsettles some families; well repressed, it unsettles the whole world.”
Karl Kraus

In their society sexual activity between women and men is exciting, sex between two women is damn fine, sex between a bloke and two or three or four or 20 women is fucking hot , but sexual activity between men it is threatening, perverse and likely to provoke violence.

There is no more effective way to provoke a straight man than to question his sexuality. So men live in constant fear of being tainted, for once touched they are forever defiled. Bloody mad isn’t it. This irrational fear that men have constrains behaviour in many ways.

Men who have never had a homosexual thought in their lives are afraid of being thought of as gay. Sexuality is not a one way street, it as Gore Vidal noted an adjective and not a noun, sexuality is dynamic and fluid. The idea that a sexual act becomes an identity seems absurd, its like classifying people based on the type of sweets they like, “Oh he’s a chocolate, us icecreams don’t associate with them, I mean come on chocolate how disgusting, I think all chocolate eaters should be shot. “

The profound terror most men exhibit when faced with homosexuality is absurd to say the least. I was But in order to fear something you must know it, you must have felt it, thus all men who exhibit homophobia have felt attracted to other males at one time or another. Validating the idea that in essence we are all bisexual.

A phobia it is an irrational fear, and the reaction of men to homosexuality reflects this. In my experience growing up it was often expressed in my peer group that it would be better to die that to be gay. This was a thought I absorbed, fortunately I was not successful in fulfilling it, although I tried.
Its common to see lesbian themes presented to women and all of the women I have been with in my life have enjoyed lesbian fantasies. They were not gay, they liked men, but were comfortable imagining or participating in liaisons with other women.

“All things come out of the one and the one out of all things”

“There is only one word, there is only one person, one place, one food, one idea, one movie, one song, one book, one medicine, one plant, one animal, one sexuality…..”


“The Eternal generates the One. The One generates the Two. The Two generates the Three. The Three generates all things. “

- Lao-Tzu

“Yeh I get the idea alright, so your saying that There is only one password for everything, yeah well I’ve got so many fucking passwords now you know, for the email, my computer login, database login, dating website login, gaming site login, isp login ………………………. ………………

“No what I am really trying to say is that there is only one sexuality and depending on what you focus on and your social environment will determine what you decide is erotic. People who choose what we would call a homosexual orientation are sexual rebels, maybe they have a high sex drive, maybe they are simply unconventional, these people are willing to step out side of the sexual dictates as established by our society. Imagination, stimulation and

“Admittedly, a homosexual can be conditioned to react sexually to a woman, or to an old boot for that matter. In fact, both homo - and heterosexual experimental subjects have been conditioned to react sexually to an old boot, and you can save a lot of money that way. “
William S. Burroughs

If you get a gay bloke, blind fold him and get a chick to suck his dick and tell him it’s a male, he will probably get off, get a guy to lick a lesbians pussy and tell her it’s a girl, sex occurs in the brain, what we imagine in side is the most important aspect of sexual interaction. What occurs in the brain is based upon our highly unreliable system of perception. Everyone is capable of being stimulated by touch and tongue.

"Work sucks … School sucks … Life sucks … What else can I say?" he wrote. "Metal and Goth kick ass. Life is like a video game, you gotta die sometime."

Kimveer Gill the 'angel of death'


Saturday, 7 July 2007

Chapter 39 - Nimbin Again

"Synchronistic events provide an immediate religious experience as a direct encounter with the compensatory patterning of events in nature as a whole, both inwardly and outwardly."

C.G. Jung

April 2005
Its been nearly fours years since I got out of gaol. I made some massive changes in my life, got off the heroin and found a career as a career counselor. They say those that cant do teach and it seemed very apt that someone so confused about his career should become a counselor to others. But the deeper reason behind this career choice was to find my purpose, why was I here what did I have to offer, what was I called to do.

Elliot Smith committed suicide or was he killed. No one knows for sure he was stabbed in the chest by someone, maybe he did it, or maybe he was innocent, whatever the case he wrote some nice songs. Baby Britain was a favourite of mine as was miss misery.

But now as I find myself going through the process of breaking up another relationship I find my self thinking of Nimbin and oblivion. Pamela and I have been together for four years, we have had our ups and downs, and this year we became parents to a beautiful baby girl. The sexual fantasy party four years ago was a distant memory.

But I am not working, I resigned from my job due to personality conflict, wrote some books started my own business and let it fail and now find myself registering for unemployment.

After Hannah out baby was born I lost my job and spend most of my time smoking dope and playing Battlefield 1942 a computer game. It was the only thing I seemed to be able to control, I escaped into the game world to escape the reality of my failure to succeed, in reality.

Spawn camping, capping flags, and getting frags, an orgy of death in an online fantasy world, I escaped into this world where I could be a winner, where victory could be mine, it was clear and unambiguous.

I became one of the disappeared. It happens to all men when their partners give birth. The child is the centre of attention, the man is pushed out of the picture to the extent that he disappears. Is the mum ok, hows the baby is she alright……You have to agree that the baby is of prime importance but this does not deny the fact that as men we feel rejected.

But it just made things worse, Pam and I stopped having sex, I slept in a separate bedroom, playing games into the late hours of the night only emerging for more cones and food. I was totally disconnected from my real life, a life that had failed, but while I was online I was winning.

We have just broken up our relationship died a slow death, like cancer it gradually consumed the ties that bound us. I find myself thinking of ways to deal with the break up, and my mind goes back to memories of the past. Thoughts of heroin fill my mind, its been 4 years since I had a hit.

I pulled over and parked the car outside the Nimbin Centrelink office in the main street. Standing outside was a lightly built guy in his late twenties with a sparse beard, missing teeth and a hat. It was like he had been waiting for me.

As soon as I got out of the car our eyes met and I walked over.
“You wanna score some nice buds?”
“Nah I wanna get some harry”
I can see him thinking, he glances into space and then “Yeah no problem, what do you want?”
“Ah just a fifty”
“Wait here I’ll be back in a sec”

He comes back a couple of minutes later and tells me to follow him up the main street. A few tourists stroll down the street, people sit in the Rainbow café drinking lattes and smoking joints. We go down into the car park and he gives me a little tiny plastic bag with a quarter of a gram of heroin sqashed up into a ball. We shoot up in my car and then Ben and I have a beer in the pub and he tells me a little bit about his life. We chat for a while and I head off to do some exploring.

In the park I see Tonto near a park bench, he seems to be working on something. I walk over to have a chat with him, its been a few years since I last scored from him. The heroin has removed any sense of self consciousness and so I casually stroll up to him like an china plate (mate).

“Hey Tonto how are you dude?”
He looks at me suspiciously, not sure who I am or what I want.
“I met you years ago dude, you scored for me remember,…”
He continues to stare for moment then lowers his gaze and nods weakly, “Yeah I think so, whatch ya up ta?”
"Just in town hanging out and scoring drugs the usual......"

We have a long chat about drugs and Tonto tells me his life story...........

“Yeah I was adopted, they told me when I was young, they said ya know your adopted son, but they were alright, strict, dad was a builder.”
“You got kids Tonto?”
“Yeah a boy, but he’s in gaol, youth detention you know, fuckin drugs and the usual bull shit, haven’t seen him in years.”
“I came to Nimbin about 18 years ago”

“You play guitar man, we should have a jam sometime yah know…I love ta jam, I got heaps a mates that fuckin play all the time, been jamin with em heaps.”
“Well funny you should mention it but I have my guitar in the car.”
“Fuckin great man, we can go down to the café at the end of the street, theres a mate of mine there he’ll lend us a guitar to jam with, come on man lets go”

I went to retrieve my guitar and met Tonto at the Café on the edge of town across from the local primary school.

I sat down and tuned up, Tonto went into the Café and I could see him chatting to this guy who was quietly strumming on a 12 string.

“What can ya play?”
“Mostly play lead, do some rhythm for me mate”
Tonto began to play the first few bars of Wish You Were Here, I joined with him and together we filled the cool evening air with the melancholy sounds of the Pink Floyd classic.
Although we were both pretty wasted it sounded good, although I wasn’t in a fit state to judge, no one at the Café seemed to complain so it cant have been too bad, but we enjoyed ourselves, drifting into the groove.

I ran into Rusty he is gone grey now but has maintained that same intensity.
“hey Rusty, its me Dave”
He stares at me as though he doesn’t recognize me, “Oh yeah Dave, welcome home mate, its been a while.”

I see Michelle sitting in a café, she looks the same, but a little pale I haven’t seen her for 8 years. She is sitting with a group two other girls and guy intent on their conversation. I don’t want to talk to her, but I do, I am a little confused. I have never bumped into her since we broke up years ago, it seems strange to cross paths again today.

Tonto asks me”You heading back to Brisbane now, ya reckon ya could give us a lift to Lismore, I’m gunna catch the train to Sydney, buy some fuckin rock and bring it back ere.”
“Oh, I dunno man “ I have a quick flashback to the day I met him 15 years earlier and our little journey from Lismore to Nimbin.
“Look I ‘ll give ya shot of speed, yeah, its good man, come on dude, do it for an old mate…”
“Ah alright, lets get going hey, you got some picks?”
“Nah we’ll have ta stop at the hospital.”
So I drove up the street about 100 metres to the hospital that was in the same street as the pub and all the other shops. Tonto hopped out of the car and hobbled in his soiled rags that hung from his body, his matted long hair cascading over his drooping shoulders.

We booted up the speed and he was right it was good shit. I was awake alert and ready to go.

After what seemed a very quick trip from Nimbin I pulled into the train station at Lismore and Tonto says, “Do ya wanta drive me ta Sydney, we could make some tidy cash mate, I’ve got more go-ee here it’ll get us all the way, I’ll pay half the petrol and well score some wicked smack when we get there, I know this chick shes on the game, but she’s pretty fuckin hot ya know, well anyway, well be scorin some rock from her. Bring it back to Nimbin and double our money, no worries, just sell a few fifties they’ll be gone in a day easy, come on mate it’ll be a fuckin blast.”

His enthusiasm was infectious and the speed affected my judgment and at that moment a drive to Sydney seemed pretty manageable so I said,” Aright lets do it!”. He gives me some speed for the drive and off we go. We shoot up more speed as we go, I feel like I am flying, driving to Sydney, fucking no worries.

“The cops just think I am the town drunk, and fuckin dero, but little do they know what I’m really up to.” , Tonto hiccups, looks at me and grins, displaying his bright red gums and black gaps where his teeth used to be.

During the whole trip Tonto keeps telling me when we are going over the speed limit. He replaces the bulb in the headlights that has blown.

We pick up two hitchhikers one is a young murri guy and other is a chubby guy in his early forties. Tonto insists that we pick up all hitchhikers, it seems like a good idea.

Driving through Grafton we do a loop around the gaol and he tells me “they look after me in there, yeah I got plenty of mates inside, not like that for other people”

We eventually arrived in King’s Cross, its about 5am its cold and dark. By this time I had come down, being in Sydney didn’t seem like such a great idea, I just felt burnt out and vulnerable. I began to think about getting out of there. While Tonto went to the ATM I went to a newsagency to find a street directory, I knew that I would need help to get out of Sydney alone.

Tonto went to use a pay phone to call his contact. I watched him as he fumbled with the phone, his filthy fingers struggling to find the right numbers, he paused and stood there, nothing happened and then he put the phone down. “No answer, its pretty early though, we’ll go score off the street and then wait till she’s on.”

Tonto staggered down the road and wandered up to two dark figures, a scrawny women with frazzled bleached hair and bloke in a black trench coat. The coat looked cheap and he was wearing worn joggers.

After chatting for a moment to them Tonto came over to me, “This chick can score for us, but we need to go for a drive. “
“The chick can come but tell her boyfriend to wait, only room for one”

I didn’t like the idea, all the bravado had been sucked out of me by the speed, now I was just a weak lost little boy, with no fucking idea, I didn’t like driving with people I didn’t know, but scoring seemed like the next logical step.

So we drove round the block, she used my mobile to call her dealer, and within about 2-3 minutes a dude appears up the street, wearing a sweatshirt with a hood, he moves with a steady beat, he looks fit. They call him the boxer.

He walks over to the car, “150”, he says
“For a quart, no way man, you said 130, “, Tonto looks to the women in the back of the car, she looks stressed

“Just fuckin take it, he won’t fuck around”
“You want this or not”, the guy in the hood doesn’t wait for an answer and starts to walk down the street.
“I fuckin told you, you should have just paid him, its fuckin rock man.”The women shrieks
“Go after im” Tonto hands her the money
She glides out of the car and scampers after the disappearing figure. She catches up to him, he stops they exchange things, he continues on and she heads back with a bounce in her step.

“Lets go have a taste,” his face has changed, he is clear and energized.

“I cant do this again man, I wont do it, what the fuck am I doing in Sydney. I don’t want be a fucking junkie, Oh god what am I doing,” the reality of my situation dawns on me, as the first rays of light illuminate the dirty bodies sleeping on the church steps.

With reluctance and in a mild mannered yet forceful way I said “I have driven you to Sydney man, now I need you to get out of my car…”
Tonto looked at me, with an incredulous expression, he hesistated as if he thought I was joking with him.

As Tonto steps out of the car he says “Now don’t make yourself a stranger, we could make beautiful music together……”, the absurdity of his comment fails to brighten my mood.

There was no way I was going to do it to myself, all the memories of pain and despair came flooding back, those dark moments in gaol, alone, I could never go back, I had to escape.

So after spending about 30 minutes in Kings Cross, I panicked and spent the same amount of time trying to get out of the city. Even with the street directory I had purchased I could not seem to navigate. I was caught in a vicious circle of one way streets, that seemed determined to capture me. My brain was fried and would not compute, error, beep, beep, beep. An all pervading power took over “Alright get him out of there the system has broken down, hes fucked up, lets get him outta here.” So they did.

“Pam its me”, sob,” I am in Syndey?”, tears are flowing down my face
“What are you doing there”
I didn’t want to admit my mistake I wanted sympathy support and so I said “I tried to kill myself with an overdose.” Maybe it was a subconscious suicide attempt.
“What! How did you get there? Are you OK?”
“Yeah I am now”
“Christ Dave, what are you doing to yourself.”

When I got back from Sydney there was a note on the table, “Dear Dave, I am sorry that I cannot be here for you, but I am concerned about the safety of myself and our child, I have gone to stay with friends love Pam”

I had mixed emotions about the note, I felt deserted and outraged, as if I was a threat to anyone other than myself. I was horrified that she taken our child and refused to tell me where she was.

Four days later she returned while I was smoking cones in my room.
“Oh you are still here, you said you were going to leave.”
“Yeah I will, but it takes time, you can’t just turn up here and demand I leave.”
“I told you I would be back today and you agreed to be gone. “
“Well I will but I need more time.”
“I want you out now, for mine and our child’s wellbeing , your not in a fit state of mind Dave, you know that”
“Well you are going to have to wait, I don’t have anywhere to go or any fucking money.”
“Dave get out now or I will call the police.”
“And say what to them, dob me in for smoking pot, I am not doing fucking anything, I am sitting here on the computer smoking pot, with the door closed and you come storming in here demanding that I leave.”

The only form of interaction I received from government was a child support form while I had no income having yet to receive sickness benefit. So distressed by the break up I could not work.

The Red Cross rang I got a job, its nice to have time to myself again, and my publisher likes the book maybe its going to be ok.

Sexuality is created and molded by society to suit the prevailing trends of the time. I feel at ease with myself most of the time, I don’t want to kill myself because I have an ambiguous sexuality by today’s standards, but other people might wish to kill me because I bore the shit out of them. But really I have now come to see how truly distorted and depraved are the popular conceptions of sexuality that are promulgated by the media.

Furthermore, I accept and embrace the fullness of my desire and if I shall wish to bed a woman in the morning a, transsexual at lunch, a young man in the afternoon, a couple of lesbians in the evening, then settle down for a snooze with my mistress, perhaps including a horse for afternoon tea and a small hamster on the weekends then that’s just fine so long as both the horse and the hamster are fully consenting adults. But really, animals dont do it for me, they may be cute, they be fluffy but thats where I draw the line, but hey I don't mind if you people out there get into this stuff its just not my cup of tea ok, so yo know cheers.

The following quote refers to a concept that allows us to move beyond a straight dichotomy of sexuality to a continuum through which we can all move at any time.

“Pansexuality (sometimes referred to as omnisexuality) is a sexual orientation characterized by a potential aesthetic attraction, romantic love and/or sexual desire for anybody, including people who do not fit into the gender binary of male/female implied by bisexual attraction. Pansexuality is sometimes described as the capacity to love a person romantically irrespective of gender. Some pansexuals also assert that gender and sex are meaningless to them.”

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