Teenage Anarchy

Hiiiiii. My name’s Rebecca. If anyone with a lanyard asks I’m eighteen years old. *wink*

Currently on my gap year at the moment and, like, I’m really trying to find myself. What’s the meaning of life? Where’s my porpoise? Why are you here? Why am I here?

I wasn’t sure where to go so I googled quiet places to visit in Australia and Adelaide came up… Sooooo here I am and here you are. Excited to meet me? You totes should be. *wink*

Anyway. I’m gonna be throwing this four and a half day Slumber Party at RCC. Come if you like. Whatever. Before you ask why I’m even doing it, because I’m Rebecca and I want to. Obvs!

So. I thought I’d give you a journal entry I wrote. I’ve been totally going all vintage and writing with pen and paper and then posting photos on my Insta. It’s like really cute and retro. Before you ask, no I’m not a writer but I guess I am now.

Woah. It’s a bit emosh. *embarrassed but proud face*

AHEM. That’s me clearing my throat.

Why don’t you understand me? A poem by Rebecca Xanthe Pollard

Dad.
You are never there. You have golden hair.
Your tie is always wonky. Your thighs are pretty chunky.
You left when I was two. And now I’m sniffing glue.

Mum.
You are never present. You look like you’re a peasant.
Where do I begin? You’re always on the gin.
Your love feels very forced, ever since you got divorced.

 

https://www.adelaidefringe.com.au/fringetix/slumber-party-harry-clayton-wright-af2018