izett and greville streets, prahran. my my, how you’ve changed over the years. gone are all the familiar haunts/second homes of mine - octave records, hardware records and rhythm n soul records. no more picking up shipments on a wednesday. no more laughing at jason rudeboy’s accent and no more “shit, almost forgot to pick up a ticket to the next hardware party at shed 14”.
peoplewatching a little further away from the once was musical heart of prahran. a little cafe in windsor. burnt coffee, quietly wishing this was 1996 but then i wouldn’t have met all the awesome people i know now.
why am i here? too chicken to rock up to the court jester, half expecting someone i kind of like to be there.
shhh. being inconspicuous here. go away.