Not The First, Not The Last

The setting was idyllic, young love’s a beautiful thing,

Crossed paths at uni, since then inseparable, day by day googly-eyed at one another,

If the love is real then consider yourselves lucky, passed the game of love already,

While others are breaking up and making up, distinguishing the real from the fake, riding on that rollercoaster of emotions ubiquitous within the game,

Y’all can sit back and smirk at ‘em, but the tectonic plates were awakening,

Slowly began to shift, the resulting shake left one of you blindsided,

It was a bolt from the blue, struck you while you were gearing up for mid-terms,

A Dear John letter that pulled no punches, sent via text message for good measure,

It sure was unexpected, but has a right time ever existed?

One month of bliss had come to this, all that time and commitment wasted,

Hit him back for an explanation, clinging onto faint hopes of reconciliation,

For half an hour y’all went at it, you even wished him all the best, ‘til he’d had enough and bailed, left you glassy-eyed on read.

Keep your chin up, Girl, it ain’t the end of the world,

Happy endings ain’t guaranteed, might have to go through different suitors ‘til it’s achieved,

One and done’s an exception for the most part, could take time to find they that deserve the keys to your heart,

The dude quit on you, and by cowardly means, too, so don’t even get hung up over that fool,

Take all the time needed to get over him, shed all the tears required,

But do make an effort to move on, like the proverbial phoenix you must rise from the fire,

How can you find the so-called one otherwise? Can’t attract the new unless you de-clutter,

A brighter future lies ahead, you need only to turn the page and start a new chapter,

Now you’ve loved and lost, others would say you’re a better person for it,

A learning experience or the start of the fall, on which path will you be treading?

Stateless On Campus

Born overseas but moved to the Land of Oz at six,

Confused and bewildered but over time found my feet,

Language barrier was a problem, cultural clashes were inevitable,

The resourcefulness of children underrated, to go with the flow seems second-nature,

Fast-forward ten years, ya boy well and truly made himself at home,

Sadly at the expense of the identity forged in the South East Asian nation he came from,

Learned some valuable lessons along the way, the good and the bad,

That folks are generally welcoming but others preferred you’d stayed in your own land,

‘I come from The Land Down Under’ but not all were offering vegemite sandwiches,

Even fellow transplanted compatriots weren’t above hazing and pettiness,

Such was the case in high school, a setting that was equal parts jail and something kinda tribal,

Your place within the hierarchy seemingly beyond control, affecting how you’ll win and influence people.

Can’t forget those days, a mixture of highs and lows,

Idyllic beyond school gates, it was a stable life at home,

Befriended mostly denizens born and bred, fairer-skinned and speaking with perfect Aussie accents,

Some on the strine side if not borderline bogan but such is life in Sydney’s wild wild west,

Wasn’t well-received by aforementioned fellow transplanted folks,

Up in arms over why I ain’t riding with my own,

The dude did try but was met with the stink-eye,

Tenuous grasp of the mother tongue had y’all branding him ‘acting white’,

While others griped I was too traditional, too similar to those from the motherland,

Better to move on now than tear my hair out to the last strand,

Am a hip hop head now but back then was a punk, alternative and heavy metal fan,

Perfect genres to voice out anger but deemed counter-cultural said the kababayans,

Can only bang against bricks for so long before that skull be cracking,

Friends and allies don’t come easy but thankfully found some that were willing,

But just ‘cuz you’re accepted don’t mean that you belong,

To others born and bred this outsider was a disturbance to them all,  

Wearing that bullshit on their sleeves, you know exactly what I mean,

‘Cat and dog eater’, ‘skin tone same as poop’, ‘Flip’ and ‘Gook’, jokes ‘bout small appendages, too,

Should’ve cracked the fuckers with minds stuck in an era before ‘73,

Would’ve meant suspension if not expulsion, at the time I’d sooner hang than self-destruct for their amusement,

Can’t lie, though, a generous serving of punches would’ve been well-deserved,

Smack ‘em til their faces broken, maybe a few limbs and ribs, too, for good measure,

Dunked on by both sides over identity politics, how the fuck did it come to this?

Seems the universe saw it fit to assign me the role of the picked-on-kid,

Stateless on campus, marooned on Point Nemo,

Ain’t nobody worth trusting so the struggle was mine alone,

Friends came and went, had to fend for myself sooner or later,

Such was the case by high school graduation, frowning in that picture for a reason.

But fuck it, it’s in the past where it belongs, no point crying ‘bout it now,

Gotta move on to level up, it’s been done and dusted about,

Might as well forgive and let go, but for the target it’s hard to forget,

Great insults last a long time, should there be a reunion these eyes will serve to remind them.

Another form of hustling

For the longest time, the hustle life’s been lionised,

The tireless worker with eyes on the prize, iron will and iron mind,

Good things come to they who work their asses off, the magnitude of achievements only as good as given efforts,

No rest for the weary and sleep is for the dead, slackers can only live in prayer if they wish to get ahead,

No respect for the ones sitting on their hands waiting for the grim reaper,

Out on the pitch and barely scoring, wouldn’t even cut it for second or third-stringers,

Can’t conquer new worlds if you don’t venture out to sea,

But easy to judge, too, from afar without knowing the full story,

Are you familiar with ‘em? Or just judging the cover sitting on the shelf?

Why not pick it up and leaf through a few chapters? Might learn you a little something.

Illnesses of the mind on the rise, been many years now and counting,

Possible aftertaste from society’s definition of true hustling,

On the subject of dreams the masses are wont to dismiss others’ as bulldust,

Is it any wonder why too many are closed books and apprehensive to the concept of trust?

Depression and anxiety spreading like the plague, insecurities and jealousy more than tripled,

Felt by all at some point or another but for many more such symptoms are everlasting,

Chase and conquer’s where it’s at, be it work, play and even relationships,

Staying in’s for losers and the cowards, days are made for seizing,

Dare to stumble and you’re written off and starting again’s a folly, rest and self-care exercises in sloth and vanity, that’s what they be saying on the daily,

Not all plans go accordingly, won’t always reach success in one go,

Multiple attempts might be necessary, just need to go with the flow,   

But where there’s passion there’s a way, just gotta find the right one,

But if possibilities yield nada then a fresh start never hurt anyone,

The ones that y’all judging could be such persons, taking new directions after the previous turned out to be failures,

Sitting, planning and plotting, that’s another type of hustling, perceived lack of actions could mask a mind working twenty-four-seven,

Then there are those taking a load off to catch their breath, gather their bearings and their senses before taking the next step,

Others in deep meditation, floundering against the haze in order to gain clarity,

Can’t do that on the move, clearly, bet y’all would sneer and call ‘em lazy,

Then there are those at war within themselves, the assailant unseen and persistent,

Faith in their abilities non-existent, the lingering scars are insurmountable obstacles,

Or maybe they’re on the straight and narrow but choosing to operate within the shadows,

Why does it only count when they’re crowing from rooftops? The silent achievers, too, more than earned their props.

Good on you for thinking that you’re killing it, but who are you to label ‘em?

Who permitted you to sneer at all others? Some might be thriving without your knowledge,

That work ethic sky high, enough to put yours to shame,

There’s always someone better, Friend, regardless of age, gender, background or race,

Hustling harder than you ever could dream about, eating up most of their twenty-fours,

Seeds sowed before the fruit’s grown, the resulting harvest maybe even greater than yours,

So what if they cultivate from their hiding place? Away from shiny tall buildings that you call a working place?

Better check yourself, fast, before what comes to light makes you look a total ass,

Think before you judge, there’s more than meets the eye,

That so-called fool that’s wasting their life could very well be serious hustlers in disguise.

Mirror Match

To anyone that was a fan of fighting games in their youth,

Passing many hours mashing buttons, innocent fun though the content’s uncouth,

Mirror matches were an eventual occurrence, when characters faced off against themselves,

Worth thinking ‘bout the scenario in real life, namely battles in the mind,

Close to a real-life mirror match as can possibly be,

Something sinister ‘bout an assailant felt within the self only,

External rivals come and go, temporary problems at best,

Different story when you’re gaslit from within, ain’t no way to run from yourself.

Too many fucks given or not enough, maybe oscillating between them both,

Insidious and vindictive, impeding the achievement of goals and personal growth,

Carried on for so long with nary a belief in one’s self,

Head clogged and hazy by the clouds of doubt and loathing, it’s a special type of hell,

Uncertain when the seed was planted but damn it the tree’s sprouting,

Different gardeners did their part, should’ve kept them out from the start,

Sleepwalking but never dreaming, had little faith they could be achieved,

Probably fuck it up irreversibly, all roads pointed to that direction constantly,

Any semblance of happiness and joy short-lived, pain seemed everlasting,

Maybe that’s just how the script was written, but fuck it why won’t they change the channel?

The praises from the masses for good deeds falling on deaf ears,

Goals achieved written off as mere flukes, been like this for years and years,

Maybe since childhood for your boy if you can believe, ain’t paused to reflect upon it, might’ve started when an inevitable death became common knowledge,

Warning signs of sorts reserved for the masses, ‘Stay out’ and ‘Keep away,’ best they keep their distance,

Give ‘em a challenge or proposition, watch how quick they go a different direction,

Predetermined assumptions of the outcome being the main reason,

Ain’t fishing for no pity party, this is just straight facts,

Nothing hurts more than accusations of the former, do yourself and them a favour and try to understand them,

Maybe some can relate, maybe others can’t, if you’re among the latter better consider yourself blessed,

But where one area’s lacking another’s been strengthened,

Might not hold themselves to a high standard but guaranteed that iron will’s been tempered,

Still plugging along and trying, could have caved in from the beginning,

Defied the darker forces tricking ‘em into the ultimate submission,

Takes lots of courage and even self-belief to get up from a beating,

Some days worse than others but damn it, they’re still standing,

Maybe they’ll find their calling, even if better late than never,

One foot forward all the way, the odds don’t even matter,

Such voices may be hard to silence, some days the noise is deafening,

Battle through it anyway, be defiant and not a victim.

One Call Away: False Dawn

One year post-upper secondary education,

From behind school gates, out into the real world, been quite the transition,

Barely any feeling-out process, overwhelmed being the new default setting, pressure mounting from both internal and external sources, fucking up’s not an option and too old now for excuses,

Grades achieved are useless, those academic accolades meaningless,

The real world don’t give a fuck, Amigo, it’s deadly serious business,

To find my place in the world, it’s easier said than done,

What to study and where to work, a gap year sounds fun, a paradox of choice that don’t come easy to some,

‘Rents been both a blessing and a curse, their brand of motivation not-so-low-key pressuring with expectations,

Nevertheless the love and support remains, gotta give credit where it’s due,

Helped me land my first gig and tertiary education too,

TAFE the first step to that coveted uni degree, just a detour of sorts, couldn’t get to the kingdom via the HSC,

Accepted into a government gig in early July, didn’t take up too much time,

Four hours a day with solid pay, finally made it to paradise,

Last two years were forgettable, the previous one in particular, this must be my reward, the spoils must surely go to the victor,

Toughed out that rough start, here’s the happy ending, finally hit the open road, Mom and Dad, look at me I made it!

But what goes up must come down, turned out to be a temporary high,

Job turned out to be a temp, three months later I was waving good-bye,

Felt like several steps backwards, in a game of snakes and ladders got bit by the largest serpent,

Plummeted back to the start, like the last three months had never happened,

Nevertheless added that experience to the CV, but searching for new lodgings won’t be easy,

Will I find a role as straightforward and convenient? And with handsome rewards, too, for good measure?

That’ll allow the education of yours truly to run smoothly? They say one grows through adversity but surely I’d earned the right to be choosy?

Ain’t never been a big spender, got plenty of money in the bank,

Enough to tide me over while the near future looks dank,

Then there’s the rumblings behind the scenes, not gonna air out dirty laundry,

But a civil war appeared imminent, thankfully there was safety between siblings,

Stuck together for now though uneasily but at least we remained intact,

Concerns growing louder over how much longer it’ll last,

Christmas came and went in a hurry as did the party at NYE,

So there you have it, a year divided into three, an awkward start and inglorious finish, sandwiched a trip to the mountain peak,

Hoping for better days in the next one, the train rolls on,

Little did we know then, a derailment was on course…