Sydney Diary #2

Gaining employment is hopefully a good side of a deal for losing certain freedoms, I’m finding purpose to each morning and settling into routine quite happily, but that also limits other investment opportunities, so I make a shopping list but as yet fail to make time to shop. 

My british obsession with weather has been a useful ice breaker with new colleagues and a headline for reporting home, but as the weather improved this sunday I was delightedly content to speak to barely anyone.

Anywhere in public you’re a guest in someone else’s conversations, and your timid politeness affords you a performance in exaggerated enthusiasm. Cackles of laughter and responses of disbelief to tall tales make it clear how much everyone is enjoying themselves within a 5m radius.

Looking for accommodation I’ve learned that Bondi is a permanent state of temporary. A couple hold hands on their sofa while I inspect their flat, they tell me he’s moving back to the states and she’s moving down the road. It’s like they accept their stones are rolling away from each other. The only investment people here have is in each day’s sun. 

Here your mirror doesn’t point out your physical inadequacy, it runs circuits around you and gorges on disgustingly tempting nourishment, which, given the rumours of 5am beach boot-camps, they’ve definitely earned.

Everyone here is beautiful. This shifts a standard and accepted social order to one that (hopefully) prizes personality over good looks, and now I must dig deep to find something interesting about myself at any moment’s notice. 

I’m surprisingly calm with my continued state of flux, this month I’ll move house 3 times and by now I look forward to change with an amazing optimism that reminds me of a desperate Tom Hanks in Castaway. 

Underlying this tradition is the practice of signifying, or the obscuring of apparent meaning; in the process of signifying, ambiguity is prized, meaning is destabilized, and gaps between the literal and the figurative are intentionally exploited. This practice, along with rap’s dense slang and penchant for imbuing words with new meaning(s), makes it especially susceptible to misreading and misinterpretation.

…these stereotypes ignore the importance of rap music, which not only is a global, multibillion-dollar industry, but also an influential and recognized form of artistic expression. With audiences dwarfing their traditional literary counterparts, rappers have introduced the world to a powerful new poetry – one memorized and recited by millions of people – that has given voice to communities of marginalized people and, at its best, has served as an anthem of resistance in the face of injustice.

Explaining rap music to the Supreme court
What the shit is this

What the shit is this

theonlyjarose:

If u got thick thighs I got heart eyes

(via cutely-perverted)

lumpyspacelion:

what the actual fuck

lumpyspacelion:

what the actual fuck

(via beauti-fuldisaster)

totally rad (at Bondi Beach, Sydney - Australia)

helloyoucreatives:

Technology changes how we film more than you think. 

twerkspotting:

donteversayrocknroll:

mvgl:

The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air 2x09 - “Cased Up” (November 11, 1991)

fuck

TOO REAL

(via first-things-first-imsurrealist)

Male / 29 / Manchester

An astute analyst and pundit, a lyricist compassionate and callus, a reckless hedonist and disaffected malcontent.

twitter.com/adamhutcheson

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