Sinister: only slightly, only slightly less than i used to

[David Hewitt]

GREETINGS

Hello there Sinister.

Contact from me has been sporadic at best recently, which is (I suspect) 
just how you like it. Still, I’m overtired and feeling somewhat 
contemplative today, so I thought I’d drop you a line. Just for the heck of 
it.

WHAT'S YOURS?

Someone said something about Sinister feeling like home. I thought that was 
interesting. I’m not sure I agree with them entirely – perhaps it feels a 
bit more like the local. Except, you know... bigger.

I seem to think of and refer to Sinister interchangeably as something, 
someone and somewhere. If it were really one of the latter two, I dare say 
many of our lives would have been a little less confusing of late.

NEWS

What’s new? I’m in a new city, in a new job, living in a new flat. I have a 
girl with whom I’m involved newly living with me, who’s new to the country. 
So, in summary, a fair bit.

CONTENT

Fairly obviously, I haven’t any. I’m not particularly sorry, but I can 
pretend to be, if you like.

CONTENT?

Sometimes I think about happiness. It doesn’t make me any happier, though.

You know, I’m pretty sure I can remember a time when if you’d have asked me 
what I needed to be happy, I’d pretty much list off all the things I have 
now: a place of my own, a decent job with decent pay, and someone to love. 
Despite life having been strange, unpredictable and bumpy of late, things 
seem to have come together surprisingly well. I wonder, then, why there’s 
still so much to worry about, and still so much left to do? Does anyone ever 
‘get there’? I could convincingly describe myself as either a reasonable 
success or a dismal failure, depending on my choice of terms. Some nights I 
can’t sleep for worry, and tear myself apart for all the things I’ve done or 
haven’t done. Other times I stop and look around me, and feel this quite 
genuine thankfulness for what’s there. I don’t suppose this is either 
interesting or unusual.

Think of when you’re running an errand for work on a sunny day. You dash 
past the people in the park, the people sitting outside restaurants sipping 
at things. How nice to sit there in the sun and just rest, you think. And 
you envy them. Then on your own day off, you sit and watch the people pass 
by, and your head is full of the things you have to do, and how far behind 
you are, and you shuffle in your seat and look at your watch, your diary, 
your phone. And you go. Or you go and drink.

You wish you were doing less, but you wish you’d done more.

EXCUSES

Sinister’s been sort of quiet lately, so I thought it’d be okay to ramble a 
bit for now. I’ve been head down, bum up in this new job (no, it’s not THAT 
sort of job, you dirty perve), so I haven’t been pestering you lot very 
often, or hanging about being foul-mouthed in #sinister all that much 
lately. Things have changed an awful lot around me, but you know I still 
read your messages every morning. Some of you make me think, some make me 
smile, and others make me grind my teeth. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

MUSIC

I ordered that Polyphonic Spree record about a month ago, and it still 
hasn’t arrived. Bugger. Has anyone heard the new Delgados or the new Apples 
in Stereo? Are they any good? Someone said that the new Reindeer Section 
record was good, but I don’t believe them.

SPORT

I think every pub in Melbourne has a Galaga machine, but I'm yet to find one 
with a dartboard. Has the world gone all topsy-turvy? I'm not dissing 
Galaga, mind, but I've got a hankering to drunkenly lob sharp projectiles 
across a crowded room, and without the proper facilities, that usually ends 
in tears. Mine, admittedly, but tears nonetheless.

SHOUT-OUTS

To Stevie T and Mark C (ask them about their new neighbour), and to Will 
Porter. Just because they're a bunch of handsome devils.

Bulk love,
-Vanilla Flavoured David.

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