(no subject)
Today in my Reading Sexuality lecture we watched a documentary on John Holmes. His rise into porn and his descent into drugs and crime. I sat there watching it, just thinking how much John Holmes reminded me of Damo. There was just something in his eyes, in the way he spoke in interviews. That same slightly awkward, yet completely confident, way of misdirecting questions so as not to give too much away. That very sexual mystique that leaves you wanting more. The way friends of his described him cowering in a corner clutching an ice pipe.
When the documentary got to the part about the murder that he facilitated and watched, I just couldn't stop myself from thinking of Nathan. They showed police photoes of the scene of the crime. The bodies and blood splattered across the room, The violence and the desperation. It just brought all the memories flooding back. All those moments that I'd thought I'd managed to block out and ignore. That image of Nathan lying in the morgue.
I left the lecture theatre, and decided to head home. I only had a tutorial to go and didn't think I was really in the mood. I sat on the bus and buried my head in a book in an attempt to distract myself. I could feel the tears coming and there wasn't a lot i could do about it. I was up the back of the bus so noone noticed. I pulled myself together a bit and walked home in search of a hug. Noone was home so I just lay down for a bit. The tears wouldn't come anymore, just memories.
I can't believe I'd allowed myself to forget him and the whole situation. I just went on with life and pretended none of it happened. I guess there's times when you just can't pretend that life is good, that bad things don't happen. I wonder if anyone else in that lecture saw the pictures of those robber's bodies and saw a friend lying there. I wonder if any of these preened and perfect Sydney uni kids have ever lost. I think that I'm tired of putting on the smiling face and trying to pretend that I'm one of these people. I don't think I am. I don't think I want their life.
Watching interviews of people discussing John Holmes' change in personality as he became more and more addicted to drugs. As he became abusive and violent and the crimes and people he became involved with. Watching that i think i realised that what i want out of life is to be one of those people being interviewed. Being a part of, watching the rise and fall of those close to me. Looking back in retrospect and seeing if there is something that i could have done. Not being the one rising or falling but being there for those who do. I want to love and be loved by the addicts and the downtrodden, not by the sanitised elite.
Life is filthy, it is dank, it is dark and it is lecherous. Behind every false smile lies a waiting hand ready to scramble over you to get ahead. And sometimes, behind the dead eyes of a photograph lies a confidant and lover who has never really passed. Who's smile was always true and who would hold you in his arms and accept you for what you were and everything that you aren't.
I wonder if Damo's alright. I need to know more about his world and the people in it. I feel the urge to live his life and to know the things he knows. I know that the life that I'm leading now is taking me away from that. Leading me up towards the light and away from the dankness. Yet I have no more reason to trust the light than I do the dark.
I need something to happen more now than ever. Something that shall shatter my world and guide me into a new future. Stagnation means death and I've been too frightened to move for too long. What hope for the future, I wonder? When all we can really look forward to is death. What am i doing now to make my life worthwhile, and is it enough? Why plan for a future that may never come and why forsake the here and now for its sake? You have to wonder if it's all worth it in the end. I wonder if Nathan could tell me. I hope that one day he will. That we all will.
When the documentary got to the part about the murder that he facilitated and watched, I just couldn't stop myself from thinking of Nathan. They showed police photoes of the scene of the crime. The bodies and blood splattered across the room, The violence and the desperation. It just brought all the memories flooding back. All those moments that I'd thought I'd managed to block out and ignore. That image of Nathan lying in the morgue.
I left the lecture theatre, and decided to head home. I only had a tutorial to go and didn't think I was really in the mood. I sat on the bus and buried my head in a book in an attempt to distract myself. I could feel the tears coming and there wasn't a lot i could do about it. I was up the back of the bus so noone noticed. I pulled myself together a bit and walked home in search of a hug. Noone was home so I just lay down for a bit. The tears wouldn't come anymore, just memories.
I can't believe I'd allowed myself to forget him and the whole situation. I just went on with life and pretended none of it happened. I guess there's times when you just can't pretend that life is good, that bad things don't happen. I wonder if anyone else in that lecture saw the pictures of those robber's bodies and saw a friend lying there. I wonder if any of these preened and perfect Sydney uni kids have ever lost. I think that I'm tired of putting on the smiling face and trying to pretend that I'm one of these people. I don't think I am. I don't think I want their life.
Watching interviews of people discussing John Holmes' change in personality as he became more and more addicted to drugs. As he became abusive and violent and the crimes and people he became involved with. Watching that i think i realised that what i want out of life is to be one of those people being interviewed. Being a part of, watching the rise and fall of those close to me. Looking back in retrospect and seeing if there is something that i could have done. Not being the one rising or falling but being there for those who do. I want to love and be loved by the addicts and the downtrodden, not by the sanitised elite.
Life is filthy, it is dank, it is dark and it is lecherous. Behind every false smile lies a waiting hand ready to scramble over you to get ahead. And sometimes, behind the dead eyes of a photograph lies a confidant and lover who has never really passed. Who's smile was always true and who would hold you in his arms and accept you for what you were and everything that you aren't.
I wonder if Damo's alright. I need to know more about his world and the people in it. I feel the urge to live his life and to know the things he knows. I know that the life that I'm leading now is taking me away from that. Leading me up towards the light and away from the dankness. Yet I have no more reason to trust the light than I do the dark.
I need something to happen more now than ever. Something that shall shatter my world and guide me into a new future. Stagnation means death and I've been too frightened to move for too long. What hope for the future, I wonder? When all we can really look forward to is death. What am i doing now to make my life worthwhile, and is it enough? Why plan for a future that may never come and why forsake the here and now for its sake? You have to wonder if it's all worth it in the end. I wonder if Nathan could tell me. I hope that one day he will. That we all will.