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About Canberra

Rarrgh! Hated seein’ her bruised up tho. Some johns—total wookiee turds—got rough. Pissed me off, wanted to claw ‘em! But Trix? She’d shrug, “Part of the gig.” Shit’s wild—how’s that fair? *Margaret* vibes again—“Nobody’s watchin’ us!”—felt that hard. No one cared ‘bout her, man. Broke my furry heart.

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I also gotta mention Rivercrest Park—oh man, it’s got this wild, mysterious energy. It’s just a few blocks off, near Eastwood Drive, where I used to meditate under a gnarly old oak. Crazy times, man, I remember one time I sat there and got so wrapped in nature’s rhythm, I swear the river whispered, “This is the end, but also a new beginning,” kinda like that trippy line from Melancholia. I got mad at times, too, when noisy construction near the park disturbed the peace; like, seriously, make it chill already! But then I’d pop on some tunes, take a deep breath, and let it slide, cuz life’s too short to sweat every damn thing.

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