Bereft

I spent most of the day today in my sanctuary (my room to others). At some point during the day, I put the needle to the record of my favorite LP and listened to a song. WOW COOL BURGERMAN is what you're all thinking, but I'm having more formidable manifestations. This song is a brooding 15 minute track of intense dark and sinister atmospheres. A track that crafts its way through hypnotic soundscapes forcing the listener to negotiate pernicious realms of infinite despondency and damnation. Word wanks aside, the track finishes with a hypnotic plodding of rhythms, and a voice bellowing from the deep south:

When the grand, imminent bereavement
Leaves me suddenly bereft
...bereft of a dominion
...bereft of air and voice
...bereft of my piss
...bereft.

Ok so I listen to some pretty unconventional music, but it occurred to me that this week I have been all of these. Yes I have even been to some extent bereft of my urine. So here's an explanation.

Firstly this blog has been bereft of updates. Turns out my computer has a virus more sinister than the song I was listening to and I couldn't update my gallery. The next narrative reflects the opening round of the World Champs series in Sydney over the weekend, and following events. 

I arrived in Sydney to a 5 star hotel a week ago last Friday. I remembered when I was in Sydney about 6 years ago as a juvenile spending almost all my money in this record shop called Utopia. So instead of enjoying the 5 star luxury I was entitled to, I caught a bus which I hoped would eventually take to me back to this wonderful abode. Too bad the obsolete compact disc format is still the preference of Sydney residents. How behind the times can you really be? Not many LP's to be found.

Nevertheless, 5 star hotels in my mind really only equates to a few extra TV channels. I don't watch TV, so I spent most of the time outside enjoying the sights of such a beautiful city with partner in crime Strong, Josh McHugh if you prefer calling him by his alter-ego.

We had an early start on race day at 7AM. The race, while being probably the most awe inspiring race in the history of triathlon, didn't go as planned for me. So what do you know, bereft of a result was young burgs. Turns out in my potters around town during the previous two days I had picked up a virus which surprisingly left me bereft of energy.

This is where it all gets fun! After the race, I had a nice surprise from my girlfriend Asha who came up and kissed me. I had no idea she was coming to watch the race in Sydney, I kind of actually thought for a second I had my first female groupie. I was also befallen by an old friend I call Goof who lives in Sydney. I grew up with Goof, he helped me find my wings in high school. Anyway we went as a trio to a chilled bar on the water and had a few beers. After we parted ways, a sickness began to rip through me, and Ash had to pack all my bags back at the hotel. After check out, I sat there immortalised as stone in the fetal position, I could not move I felt that bad.

Vomit/poo session 1 soon left me bereft of breakfast. Vomit/poo session 2 left me bereft of my underpants. Vomit/poo session 3/4/5 left me bereft of internal organs. This was all while I was waiting for the plane back home. When it came time to board, they wouldn't let me on because one of the coaches told the staff I was sick. Turns out our plane was delayed by 2 hours anyway. I eventually made it out alive, staggering to the car without my bags like a drunken sailor. I got home, got into bed, and after a restless night's sleep I woke to my 21st birthday. Overnight I had lost 4kgs. Weight loss is something anyone would normally embrace, but in these circumstances it's not so desirable when the weight lost accounts only for your vital organs. I was now bereft of a 21st birthday as I lay in bed all day in solitude, only getting out of bed to see if I had any birthday cards in the mail. My bottle of 21 one year old port that Dad bought the day I was born is still as virginal as it always has been, and my Dad, always with something wise to say offered me a consolation. He told me of his 21st birthday, the day he had his tonsils out. I should ask what other fun traditions he has in store for me.

I didn't eat anything for the next 2 days, and when I regained health, I had to look after my family who inevitably met the same fate as me. And if your wondering where the 'bereft of my piss' lyric fits, its because  my fluids were discharged elsewhere. Peachy!

Nevertheless, life is still looking up. Last night I got to catch this crazy character live at the Tivoli!

Keep it real, Josh