if i’d written all the truth i knew for the past ten years, about 600 people – including me – would be rotting in prison cells from rio to seattle today. absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity in the context of professional journalism.

hunter s. thompson

tingle, pringle, shingle…

boys/men. call them what you like, they all mean the same thing. troubled times. 95% of the conversations i have with my girlfriends are in one way or another connected to a problem in relation to that theme. they consume, disrupt, suffocate our lives and (unknowingly) leave us beaten and bloodied while doing so.

just who do they think they are? at my ripe, young age, i have no worries about not being attached to one of these all-consuming specimen. why is there any reason to complicate a life that is so perfectly uncomplicated? there is no point in forcing, squeezing, scheduling into your life someone who will ultimately only create less of an ability for ease and freedom. (that said, i appreciate the nature of fate and fully support all those serendipitous moments which come along now and then to remind us of the ways of the sneaky universe.) yet so many people decide to rush into relationships with their eyes closed for fear of “running out of time”.

those women who place so much of an emphasis on their time constraints in bearing a child are dependent leeches who need to understand that your choice in having a relationship should not be bound by age. biology tells me i have until 40, 45 tops before i start losing my green card on the baby clock. but the baby clock is ticking with, or without a man, and if that is my only reason to prematurely induce a relationship then i am more than happy to find other means of creating my spawn. there is too much technology, too many scientific discoveries, too many other options, to chance love and contentedness in return for securing a man purely as an amenity more primitively useful in facilitating the conception of a child.

i have no problem with being single and will be for my entire life if i choose to do so. i would rather that than something forced and contrived where my true happiness hangs in the balance. if children is what i want, i can do it on my own. 

there is no reason other than love to be in a relationship. and there is no reason to rush into one because your girlfriends are, you get lonely, have “needs” to be met or want to have children before it’s too late. these excuses are all fixable without men. yes, even children. life’s too short to be wasted on wasteful things.

my two friends

i might have more than two friends. kendall and katie are two, though. kendall cut her hair, katie hurt her knee – a while a go now, but it scares me nonetheless. i worry for her. i wonder how i’ll be with my kids. kids. that scares me too. i don’t want to grow up…

dreaming of america

last night i dreamed of america. i am planning a trip there soon. all through the states and into canada to visit the friends i made at uni. three months max. it will be filled to bursting point with adventures, places, attractions, people, stories, photos, culture, food, memories.

maui, california, vegas, boston, nyc, new england, delaware, baltimore, new jersey, miami, orlando, toronto…more, more, more. i want more. 

tattoo who?

questioner: would you ever get a tattoo?
matt brunoli: would you graffiti the mona lisa?

rain, rain, go away

it’s raining today. it’s wintry. it’s still autumn, go away. 

driving today. two-and-a-bit hours to meningie to watch a football game. and it’s raining. the rain doesn’t compare to the rain in the place i was. it’s cold here. it’s piercing. it makes your skin sore to touch from the horrible freezing sting of it. 

jed shakes more in the rain. he smells too. wet dog. but he isn’t unhappy. not like me. i miss the humid rain. when it got warmer as it fell. 

but the football. it will be freezing. down by the murray river where the air skips off the water and takes the icy temperature with it. 

we’ll sit in the car though. i’ll wear two pairs of socks. i’ll bring a blanket and drink hot chocolate from a thermos wrapped in hands wrapped in leather gloves.

it’s cold.