I miss the place where the real me can exist with condemnation.Without the stares, the finger pointing and the out right rude comments to my face. No I won’t grow up, no I did not get dressed in the dark.No I am not a want to be Emo,,I am a GOTH.From the age of 11 or so I knew what I wanted to be like.I was sent to a strict Catholic Girls High School and the torture began.In the early years I smoked enough pot to not comprehend other people’s shit or I would drink before school.My liver was fucked by 14. I had ulceration of my stomach lining and spent a lot of time throwing up blood. Any way back to home,,The Hunter Valley, the vines the beaches and the common man.No wankery no class issues, just people getting along with their lives and surviving.Skegs, Goths, Westies, Punks, Metal Heads we all get along.I miss a real custard tart, smut man misses his vanilla slices from the bakery in Newie.God I miss the Rock Shop.
March 24, 2011
I miss my home..