The story starts in Coogee. I had three close friends from when I was born. When I was around 9 or 10 one of my friends had a bunch of older female friends that she hung out with. Her older friends (maybe 13 or 14) would sit me down at this tender age and do funny erotic dances. I mean it was all just fun but there was a bigger story.

Bikies put on a fun fair in Coogee and some of these girls were introduced to stripping, hard drugs, soft drugs and later I heard how some were working in the Cross. My friends from this stage of life never got caught up in this culture; there were just associations. When your friend’s, friend’s brother is a drug dealer and the no money culture lures the innocent you can sometimes have good luck.

The story is disjointed but hang in there because when I eventually left home I lived in share houses with no furniture but a mattress. Some mattresses I found on the street. I would arrange my clothes neatly folded on the floor. Sometimes I would find a desk on the street and normally you could find chairs. I would make a library shelf with old bricks I found and pieces of timber, mostly old discarded fence palings.

The funny thing is even though money wasn’t in abundance I was quite happy. I didn’t really manage to afford furniture (I bought it at charity shops or found it on the street) until I was 27 years old. I just worked random casual jobs and when I was 27 I actually got a full time job. I can’t tell you how happy I was and I basically knocked up my girlfriend and was ready for a family.

Not long before this I met a young lady who I was trying to court but it wasn’t really working out. She had a full time job and an apartment in a nice area. She had furniture that looked new, she had a bed with a bed base. I felt like I was punching above my weight and she treated me pretty badly. I basically told her to stick it and I didn’t want to see her again but she manipulated me by saying she was genuinely interested in me.

I believed her and she was the mother of my first child. In the long run things worked out in that she shacked up with her girlfriend and I did the same with my girlfriend. Kids popped up and I was focused on working. What I wanted to say though is eventually when I managed to have a little bit of money I had furniture but mostly it was off the street and charity shops. 

But I do proudly own some IKEA bookshelves and I have some stuff. Yet I am quite happy not having fancy stuff. I learned to live without. I realised that I didn’t really need it. Although now I have a Chinese made television and washing machine. They were cheap and did what they said on the box. I guess having experienced mental illness and low cash situations I feel like an absolute rock in that most stuff I see people chasing to me is a joke. 

It won’t help you grow, it won’t make you strong willed. One of my Indigenous friends was joking that people today will freak out if they get the wrong type of cheese in their meal. I totally got it when he said that. It is just a joke but so is capitalism.