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459 Fitzgerald Street
North Perth, WA, 6006
Australia

Melancholy and the Infinite Cactus

The Amber Fresh Chronicles

Melancholy and the Infinite Cactus

Andrew Ryan

pos vibes. that’s what the world lives on. but at the moment i ain’t got enough flowing through me.

from the outside it might have looked like a good day. i tapped that little snoozer alarm a few times to wrestle a couple extra minutes in dreamland, wrapped myself in a big coat and bundled into the car in my pjs to talk on the radio, and in between talked off-air to the kind breakfast host about beautiful things.

sailed out to the suburbs to a lovely girl’s house to get my hair cut, which i always used to do by myself until i found this girl and looked into her eyes one time and i knew it could be a nice thing to not cut my own hair, and then it was. she fed me honey and orange cake and we talked about plants communicating with us, and our friend kucka’s music and big shoulder pads and recycled hair dryers and other greatnesses.

and i made some new guitar parts with my hands and fingers and an amplifier and sent them off to friends in voicemails, and posted cds with pretty pictures on them, and found the BEST, SWEETEST postcard in the mail from paris, sent from one i love with kind loving words and a romantic picture of a man feeding a small red fruit to a woman.

and had pretty memories in my mind of the things that happened in the week – playing the show at the bird where enough money was raised to buy an ECG machine for a hospital in sri lanka. the girl who organised it, a stranger, gripping my hand tightly on the dancefloor that only consisted of us actually dancing, and holding it gripped like that forever. the boy who organised it handing me a homemade terrarium, a hairy snake cactus weaving itself into a brain in the centre of the glass jar, the cactus brain surrounded by toy squirrels and fake gemstones.

and memories of the following night, shivers and tears flowing out of me while watching joni in the moon playing, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the floor with velvet voiced david craft, and cherry voiced skye groenveld, skye’s voice quietly joining in the songs from the audience, audible only to my desperately listening, shivering self.

somehow, though, all these things weren’t enough tonight to keep me from being sad. but i share them with you, as small rhinestones of life, hoping that you will feel some goodness in them.

* *
(update: went and saw velvet voiced david craft play at the moon, and ate chips, and got hugged up in the air at the counter, and the pos vibes returned)