It seems fitting that at the end of “reward august” I spoke for the Foundation of Young Australians at Unleashed to hundreds of young social change makers. It was fantastic and so was the building!
After my speech I met a really bright kind writer and journalist who pointed out the creatures in the fountain looked like dragon fish. I liked the idea of dragon fish.
Everyone feared Dragon Fish. Dragon Fish was a master of both water and fire. Fish would cower in fear and insult him in the coral city streets. Dragon Fish didn’t understand, he used his power to create spectacular floating fire shows. But no matter how hard he tried to convince other fish of his gentle nature, they always feared him. Angry, he put on the most spectacular fire show yet. He created a terrible fire monster. It terrorised the city. But in the last moment, Dragon Fish fought his own creation off. The city fish heralded him as their saviour, and no one cowers from him anymore.
Something is in the corner of her eye. It’s been there for days. She can almost smell it, it’s name is on the tip of her tongue. In its spare time it seems to enjoy setting butterflies free in her stomach and distracting her appetite. She feels it move and rubs her eye. With a squelch, it falls out onto the floor. Whatever it is, it looks like it’s having a midlife crisis.
“What are you?”
“Nerves,” it says proudly. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing, actually sorry but could you stop playing with my appetite?”
“Appetite can’t help it that I’m irresistible,” it chuckles. “Look I’m sorry I’m here, but you’ve got an important occasion, and I don’t like to miss a big do.”
“Well, can you at least get rid of the butterflies?”
“You wouldn’t deny my pets. I move around a lot, they’ve gotta stay somewhere.”
“Look, I’m what gets you through. I’ll administer the adrenaline when you need it most and heighten your senses. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“What are you doing in my hair?”
“Just a bit of nervous sweat, nothing too bad.”
She had to admit Nerves did help sometimes, but it was a bit of a dick.
Inspired by the nerves that are gradually taking me over as I get ready to fly to Melbourne.
Just a few days ago I was asked to give my TEDx speech again for the Foundation for Young Australian’s festival “Unleashed“… which is on Sunday… in Melbourne. This month has been all about reward, and this is a pretty big reward- I’m very flattered. However, I can’t help but feel like I could return to the nervous wreck that I was a month ago before my TEDx speech. Last time I was speaking in my home city and the audience was only about 150ish. This time I’m told there will be over 400 people. Doing these speeches is also making me wonder… what happens after this challenge is over? The other day Michael asked me to write a story based on One Day’s new album “Mainline.” It’s a hip hop record with a lot of reflective spoken word. So today I am reflecting on my future through a bit of poetry- if someone sends in a beat I’ll rap it on another day and put it on youtube.
21 and didn’t know my place
Just knew stories were the base
Of everything I love, every single case
So I write everyday
Life on display
But am I wandering astray?
Now I’m a writer
My future’s looking brighter
But my stomach twists a little tighter
What happens at the end?
Is it just a trend?
Scared I’ll just blend
Into the wall
Without this site my writing’s just a scrawl
Messy and small
When aliens landed no one greeted them, no one even knew they were here at all. I would sit gazing at the stars wishing to meet one, never knowing I had one in my stomach at that very moment. I didn’t notice the increased tummy rumbles or think twice about my sudden cravings for custard (aliens love custard). Eventually we found the parasites sitting in our stomachs. Some people live happily with their parasite, even learning to communicate with it. Others have killed themselves in the process of trying to get rid of them. Me? Well, it turns out my alien also loves aliens. We watch sci fi together and it tells me stories about the stars.
Kate had a rumbly tummy and asked me to write a story about the monster inside her.
JK asked me to write a story about his new Mr T haircut. I could see only one connection.
Geometrical hair loss?
Did you know that shortening your name without the use of vowels can increase your risk of contracting hair gardeners?
Hair gardeners are responsible for over a quarter of all hair loss. Hair gardeners love symmetry and neatness. They are attracted to humans with short neat names especially without vowels, and people who wear too much metal. Once attracted, hair gardeners are difficult to get rid of, and mowing hair into neat hedge like patterns.
Don’t be a fool! Stay protected, love your vowels.
This has been coming for a long time I think. I don’t have many hair accessories, but I do have clips with little men on them.
They are one of my favourite things in life, I’ve even named them: Rick (on left) and Larry (on right). Today I had my fringe cut and the hairdresser started laughing really loudly- she’d just noticed them. It reminded me that they deserve a story. I decided to make up an old norse style myth.
Rick and Larry were the happiest couple in the city. Everyone adored them and wished for their own Rick or Larry. But the goddess Freya was terribly lonely, so she rode into the mortal city and stole the the couple hoping they could share some of their happiness. The lovers awoke separately in a blonde desert of sand dunes. Divided by a large expanse of fringe the two men were stuck, entangled in the long strands of Freya’s hair. It is said they only see each other at night when Freya finally takes them out of her hair to sleep. The people in their home city believe the warmth of their kiss each night is what keeps the nights so cozy.
This morning I was trying to put my hair in a bun. I explained to my dad that my hair says to me “No I don’t want to be a conformist” as I try to tie it up. He laughed and told me that stories were taking over my life- seeping into my speech- I couldn’t help but make them up. I was chuffed with this observation. Which gave me an idea for a story obviously…
The stories fell out of her
Most would writhe around on the carpet
Gasping then slumping
Piling up on top of one another
Occasionally one would stand up
She’d watch it nimbly stepping over the others
Watch it walk out the door
Perhaps it would even make it into the wild