There's a first for everything

My brain feels like it's deep fried in an unwashed pot
with really unhealthy, hot, hot oil
it feels crispy and greasy and it will probably give birth to many new pimples
there are still bubbles of oil attached to it, making sound close to silence 
In a few hours it will be soggy and damp with cold oil 
and it will be completely mute

I stood in the middle of Bourke street today at 12:15 a.m.
saw the entire glass of a phone box shattered all over the ground so exquisitely,
the phone box looked unbearably naked after dedicating its part on street art
that's true art, i thought
here and there there were cops in yellow vests
looking bigger than they actually are,
in front of a bookshop that no longer showed a sign of life
there was a couple sharing their temporary peace with their lips
it was a strangely balmy night for winter
the street was warmed by drunk people's breaths

I stood in the middle of Bourke street today at 12:15 a.m.
and cried.

Now that's a new experience
and it's refreshing to know that I've still got a first for something when my brain is already  fried irrevocably
I wondered how many firsts I will be encountering from now
and got calmly excited.

[Black and White photography. experimenting in the dark room with the 2 photos of my dangling feet and of the ocean]