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About Brisbane

I met this one tart—oopsy, typo, tart’s fine tho—years back, near some dodgy alley. She had this scar, right across her cheek, said some punter glassed her. Made me mad, y’know? Like, who does that? I’d have gutted him, Hannibal-style—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” Tasty thought, eh? But she laughed it off, said, “Part of the gig, love.” Tough as nails, that bird. Reminded me of *A Prophet*, that line, “You’ll see what I see.” She saw the world’s filth and kept goin’.

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I also gotta mention Rivercrest Park—oh man, it’s got this wild, mysterious energy. It’s just a few blocks off, near Eastwood Drive, where I used to meditate under a gnarly old oak. Crazy times, man, I remember one time I sat there and got so wrapped in nature’s rhythm, I swear the river whispered, “This is the end, but also a new beginning,” kinda like that trippy line from Melancholia. I got mad at times, too, when noisy construction near the park disturbed the peace; like, seriously, make it chill already! But then I’d pop on some tunes, take a deep breath, and let it slide, cuz life’s too short to sweat every damn thing.

Rare honour for evergreen ‘Macca’