Can anyone remember that Cat Steven's song, Remember the Days of the Old School Yard?
Fuck, I use to laugh a lot.
Brendan’s older brother was truly a freak.
He went to special school.
He was tarred with that ‘different’ brush.
I adored his freak antics.
I couldn’t get enough.
He always had an audience with me.
He’d vomit down the plastic slide.
Vomitted.
Just conjured it up.
And down the slide it went.
It was filth.
It was the kind of menacing delinquent behavior you'd only see in a Stanley Kubrick film. It was my A Clockwork Orange.
His sickness went down the slippery slope to divine.
I don’t mean to glorify his sickness.
And that’s what it was.
Always a hard act to follow.
Another glorious moment was when he belted up his brother Brendan to red welts.
It was better Brendan getting the bashing than me.
Some how I felt Mark pandered to the camera.
I was his camera.
And I couldn’t get enough of this delinquent.
He was a class act.
He didn’t deserve to die young.
He apparently killed himself.
I’ve not been back in a lifetime to verify that.
I hope he made it out of childhood and became a real Ned Kelly.
His mother was a prostitute, who I adored for her tenacity.
His father only had one eye.
And his sister was fucking hot.
They were the O Brian’s who lived down the road.
I was also tarred with the ‘different’ brush. I was an orphan living in a foster home.
It went in my favour.
All the hot girls from the ‘normal’ families wanted to date me.
Dam. I was still a virgin.
A peck on a girl's cheek seemed a monstrous act back then, when there were better things to do, like watch Mark vomit down the slide of the new playground in the old school yard.