GUARDIAN ANGEL

Lockdown was great for my introverted side and destructive to my extroverted side. Once I finished my Master's degree, I had the space to face some of my newly formed addictions: dexies and success. I considered doing AA but got cold feet. Instead, I took on acts of service to focus on being a problem solver for others instead of working on mine. Big mistake. It's time to focus on what I do best: writing. I love it, but it hates me. I need help, so I crack open a copy of ‘The Artists Way'. There is a freehand writing strategy inside called the 'Morning Pages' aka ‘Brain Drain’ that helps to unlock ultimate creativity. I got my pen license decades ago, yet my writing looks like shit. How is this artistic?

I am yearning for the physicality of things. I remember the pure joy of the Scholastic Book Fair and our family trips to Video Ezy, Blockbuster and Movieland. Without the immersive cinematic experience at our disposal, is the future of entertainment just a digitally fragmented streaming system? Is this progress or regression? I rewatch some episodes of Kath and Kim, which is a mirror to the suburbia I know so well. Is comedy simply an analysis of the mundane?

I am Post-Instagram and I am okay. My Therapist once asked me to timeline the milestones that define me. I subconsciously outlined my different social handles. Do I really love the internet or is this Stockholm syndrome? My recent viewing of ‘The White Lotus’ has me questioning the economic landscape of the Byron Bay that was and the post-Hemsworth Byron Bay that I find myself in. It is wedding season in town. We have two different weddings to attend next weekend, so naturally, I do my research via a screening of the classic comedy ‘Bridesmaids’.

It’s raining in Byron Bay. I’m at The Roadhouse overwhelmed by a creative blockage. ‘Unpublished writing is still valid’ is my mantra for today. As I analyse my creative process, I wonder if my formal training in media and marketing has stopped my ability to play. I’m struggling to tune into one of the many ADHD radio stations in my mind. Something is particularly off right now. And then I realise: it’s Instagram. Again.

On my walk to the dentist, I digest the landscape that shaped me. The suburbs are still the suburbs, but the energy has shifted slightly with the construction of freeways that did not exist in my youth. Freeways and the internet create freedom. I wonder how different I would be if I were born today. Seeing the places that haunt me is strangely comforting. Serenity now!

I’m coming down off the high of my travels. I sit in my parent's house in a mess heap, thinking of the seemingly perfect life I left behind. It has been months since I pulled the rip cord on stability to chase the greener grass of creative freedom. I’ve reached the other side now, but the green grass I’ve yearned for is actually mud. Was my old life built on mud too? If everything is mud, can I just feel content already?

I am in Seattle after a three-day train trip to pursue my lifelong dream of visiting a place both wonderful and strange: Twin Peaks. The Lynchian madness is undeniable upon entry into this town. I make necessary stops by The R&R diner, The Great Northern Hotel and The Waterfall. An unexpected Twin Peaks meets Gossip Girl fanfic crossover occurs when Taylor Momsen stops by Seattle to play with her band 'The Pretty Reckless'. Welcome to my Tumblr fantasy.

I have arrived in New Jersey. I am nowhere near the shore or the countryside - I'm in an attic above a house inhabited by a woman named Barb. The Airbnb isn't rural at all, it's actually in the deep suburbs of West Orange. I recall Tony Soprano being from around the neighbourhood and am happy to find that I am a short twelve-minute Uber from the Soprano family home in Caldwell. Naturally, I drop by to pay my respects to the notorious Mr Soprano.

Day two in DC. I’m feeling fearful. I tend to feel nervous around wealthy neighbourhoods. I’m yet to find the hardcore scene but I have stumbled across some sick record stores. Maybe the scene is in the suburbs? And what’s the deal with every monument being under permanent construction?