We played cards and had drinks, beer with tomato juice, palomas, drove downtown. Adele was on the radio. The streets downtown not my streets for walking, were lined with cars, we circled to find a park. We went in a plain wooden door to a bar with an open air central chamber overhung by an orange tree. We had a house drink, a mezcal cocktail in an earthenware cup. In the crowd met a Mexican hipster who had lived in Melbourne ‘between Fitzroy and Brunswick’. The moon was full in flat, luminous clouds.
When the bar was closing we went to the downtown house of two men we’d just met. The house was an open air corridor with rooms opening off. The toilet was leaking. The roof of the lounge was white and flat with black beams across it. A sat on the arm of the chair beside me. They were playing music from the computer, smoking. The girl M arrived after her bar job, D signaled something to the cousin, explained to me when pressured that it meant M is into him but tonight he’s not so much. The cousin went to sleep on the couch. M and D called ‘chaperón!!’ to the cousin. Twenty years ago it was commonplace to take a younger brother on a date as a chaperone. We drove a French man home and had quesadillas just before 7 when there was light in the sky.
It was a carnivalesque space, where things out of the ordinary may happen. We were unknown to each other, but companions. I wonder if it was wasted. I’m not thinking of what might happen soon, and which I don’t understand anything about.
And there’s no need to clutch at stones. There is a church nearby I will look for one day, we hear the gong and fireworks. Today, sleeping and sitting by the pool, which is tranquil and blue. The lesson is to go back and use the lesson again. To also be sidetracked. I love to observe animals. On the way home one day I went into an aquarium shop and looked at the fish and turtles. There is life, independent to my own. And even the days or feelings that seem a repetition, nothing is for sure.