FARRAGO

Murder and general mayhem sound just like your good old-fashioned fairy tales, something left behind in the myths and legends that belong in forgotten derelict book-shelves. Beware sensationalism but the reality is that it’s all just life, kids.

The first time I encountered Victor was on a bleak, foggy morning exactly one year ago today. I find it fascinating that one can innocently tug at a single thread and accidentally unravel an entire garment.

Maybe the internet is a history machine. Much under the surface. I remember clicking a page of one-on-one RPG blogs: two friends/writers for Something Awful documenting their campaigns for lulz.

Here I am with love seeping out my pores again, sticky hearted always, sticky date pudding, B tastes so sweet. Teeth so crooked, my butterfly boy, freckled chest so sweet, smells so sweet, familiar, way he walks, so sweet, can’t stand it.

The University of Melbourne’s Creative Literature and Writing Society present The Remarkable Quests of Raddish and Quill, a collaborative column for Farrago.

The scariest part of a dream is knowing the terrible things that are coming… because you’ve had that dream before. I feel that the moon is going to collapse in 3 days. In 3 days, the moon will fall and crush everything… I’ve been here before.

The whole world has somehow bent; the sky is fixed and dull, and slants hugely towards the earth, as if a single, immense piece has cracked and fallen loose.

So. Emily Dickinson—who may not resemble Emily Dickinson—is closing her eyes in the garret she rents from her boss. We agree there’s nothing much in her room. A bed. A chest of drawers and facsimile crucifix. A chair—the dress she arrived in slumps over its back, caked in sewage.

Murder and general mayhem sound just like your good old-fashioned fairy tales, something left behind in the myths and legends that belong in forgotten derelict book-shelves. Beware sensationalism but the reality is that it’s all just life, kids.

I have stroked their egos, dressed up for them, painted my face for them (((FOR FREE))) for far too long. Only now, in this employment, am I rewarded for my efforts. Only now am I compensated for the endless, thankless task of Making Men Feel Good.
My only question is: where’s my goddamn backpay?