Bleak

I can never quite fathom why I consistently throw my eager self into the dark, deep black hole that is the Central Coast Social Scene. It could be the hidden desire to prove that I can belong and be square with what is considered the 'norm' around here. But mostly I assume its because the select bunch of kids I class as cool do, and I dream that one day we can and will out number the common fools. And I am always courted by the potential horseplay and good times to be had on the noble dance floor. To put it simple; the prospect of whipping my hair back and forth is far to jolly to pass up.

 Generally speaking, going out on the coast is the same movie played times over, until finally the film burns out leaving a distorted concoction of visuals and dialogue to capture the dull and too often reality show material storyline. However, the conversation need not be heard anyway because it is so staged and pretense it merely consumes valuable breath and words, that could be put to far better use....say on my personal blog/ thought chamber. Eventually the scenes get old, and people move on to search for something more fulfilling, like Paris.

Now no one holds a gun to my head come Friday, Saturday, Sunday and even the odd Wednesday. The choice to take part is mine, and I take pride in the hardly any time I spend waste primping and prettifying as it justifys to myself how little I care about what this elusive scene thinks of me. If the standard consensus is wearing tight short dresses with heels, i'll chuck on the first pair of shorts that come to hand and a t-shirt that looks well worn with army boots and a haun super dry to kick ass in. The drive to be different comes from the moments of sickness I feel when being surrounded by the wrong kind of people doing the wrong kind of thing.

"the world is a stage, but the play is badly cast",- Oscar Wilde

The finale act of a typical Saturday night in Terrigal lately screams violence.
In an instant two separate unfamiliar souls feel the need to physcially harm each other, over what I can only imagine is absolutely nothing. I steer clear of the negativity, preferring the cool comfort of the dance floor and my good, clean, fun peoples. However recently this turned sour when the fight started on none other than the jolly, high traffic dance floor, sending innocent dance enthusiasts like me flying and scrambling all over the shop. It seems like a single punch , wether accidental or intentional caused an animal like frenzy in which anyone and everyone wanted a piece of. I had to evacuate, because after half the club was booted (well half the club did participate so fair call) I could not stop looking at the remaining occupants as though they were animals. Pigs, wolves, bulldogs, bears, tigers, deers. The whole lot of them were potentially as wild as animals.

And when I finally did leave, I'm struck with the continuation of what broke out upstairs, only worse.  And this time police forced to physically beat the animals with batons to stop the wild violent frenzy. A pack of wolves could of been better behaved. In that moment I felt so ashamed and embarrassed that this was indeed my own kind acting in such a savage and In humane way. As the wounded calf lies on the ground in a neck brace, having potentially done some serious long term damage, The rest of the herd is being rounded up like brainless sheep and thrown into the 5 surrounding paddy wagons.

Bleak. I don't think any amount of words can communicate what that looks like to innocent by standers. I like animals for the reason they possess so many human like qualities. And I can appreciate the animal characteristics that humans show. The light hearted play, the hunt for food, the survival of the fittest, the beauty of companionship, and the shared general goal of living. But this animal behaviour has gone way to far in terms of comparison.


It seems that after thousands of years of civilisation, we have not forgotten where we evolved from. Tis a shame.

Humans, animals ; not so different after all.