It's going to be a couple of weeks until I can get a decent mp3 recorder

but I really want to make that phone call now. Aside from not having a decent recording device, my only real problem is staying anonymous to this person. I guess posting a blog about it isn't really going to help, but I think I should make this call from a payphone in the city. If I'm completely honest I'm still more than a bit paranoid about it all. I'm not sure how to record the earpiece and my voice at the same time either, so if anyone has an idea on that let me know.

Given that I get paid monthly and my cousin got married last week, I won't be able to buy a decent mp3 player for another couple of weeks.

Instead, I'll tell you about a story I only remembered because of an off-hand comment my dad said a few days ago. He was talking about boy racers waking him up at night. Everywhere I go there seems to be a different name for these kids, but I'm talking about kids that will spend $5000 on a second hand honda civic then spend $15000 "improving" it. Then they'll find a carpark in the city to show off their fully sick subwoofers and shitty new turbo exhaust. UHHNNNNNTSCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. UHHNNNNNTSCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. You get the idea.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I was woken up at about three in the morning by a boy racer in the alleyway behind my house (which I should show you more of now that I think about it - it's all connected to shitrag block), who had pulled over just so he could rev his car as hard as possible. I don't even think there was anyone in his car that he was trying to impress. The mind of a boy racer is a complex one.

I heard a few of my neighbours shouting at him and he was shouting back, so I got up and went out to the balcony to see what was happening. By this stage he had got out of his car and was just kinda shouting at the sky as five voices shouted back. I heard him shout "What the fuck are ya gonna do about it?", so I went inside.

I went to my fridge and got a couple of eggs. I only got a couple because I wanted some eggs for breakfast. I like eggs. Eggs are versatile.

I went back out and chucked the eggs at his car, one hit the windshield and one hit the doorframe. I stood there for a minute as he looked around wildly to see where the eggs had come from before I realised that I was naked and it was cold. I heard him shout "WHERE THE FUCK DID THOSE EGGS COME FROM?" and I was tempted to yell back, but I didn't.

I went back in to get some pants because I was awake now and needed some closure before I could go to bed happy. I got back outside to see one of the greatest moments of mob justice I have ever experienced. There were eggs flying from at least eight directions. Someone chucked a whole carton. This dickhead was just standing there screaming at the sky. It was a perfect moment where time almost stood still. It was serene. Eventually the eggs stopped and he shouted "I'm gonna call the cops".

Someone from across the alley shouted in a voice that hurts my throat to imitate, even quietly, "WE'VE ALREADY FUCKIN CALLED THEM YOU LITTLE CUUUUUNT". It's really hard to convey in text just how much venom there was in this guy's voice. He sounded like he was choking while he screamed. I can honestly say that I am not capable of shouting like that, and I'm a pretty loud person.

Boy racer just got back in his car and drove away. Quietly.

I guess I didn't remember it the next day because I slept so well afterwards.

It's been a while.

I have to admit that since I stopped feeling threatened by it all, I've lost a lot of my drive to solve the mystery.

I still wake up in the middle of the night with a whole lot of questions running through my head, I just don't feel like I have to do anything to save my life now. I'm comfortable again.

I've had a couple of leads from the wall, but as one reader put it, "That wall is like a rosetta stone for methheads". The main lead is the most obvious - "Barton St". I don't know of any Barton streets near me so I had a look on google maps. There are five different Barton streets in Sydney, plus a mysterious one. Obviously I have a predisposition to explore the mysterious postcode 2150 first but I'll probably only visit one place per weekend and I might not find anything worth talking about.

Anyway, there has been a small development down at ground zero:


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I've hidden the number because I don't want whoever did this to get the veritable FLOOD of phone calls that might originate from readers of this blog, but there are a few things about this that make me think it might all be a part of the same thing.

- It was written on luggage
- The brick shed on shitrag block seems to be blocked in with garbage
- I took the photo on a quick stop in at home to drop some things off, and when I came back out about ten minutes later the bag was gone

I'm going to call the number and hopefully record it for all of you. Maybe I can get some answers.

I'm sorry if I caused any undue concern.

I'm ok. I've been on my mission, and I've got some interesting photos. I've come to realise that I'm not in any real danger so I've relaxed a bit. I forgot to mention it here, so I've had some very concerned messages. I had no idea that so many people were concerned. Thanks.

It was a pretty easy mission. It was a really bright day so I decided to walk rather than taking a bus. It was nice to just put my headphones on and go for a walk. I don't do it enough and walks like that make me wonder why.

When I got into Newtown I decided to grab a coffee. I used to live nearby so I knew where to get a good one. I got a takeaway and kept walking, headphones on, smoking a cigarette while I drank it through the lid. It was the best feeling I've had in a long time. Even before the shitrags.

When I got to the park, I knew that my search would be worthwhile:




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I was expecting a wave of horror to flow over me. I thought that I'd be stopped dead in my tracks by what I saw. I finished off my coffee and started giggling. HERION=EVIL.

I wasn't scared any more.

I followed the wall around a couple of corners, and the graffiti just got more and more fascinating. I felt a small connection with whatever it is that's trying to communicate with me. I was supposed to be here. It felt good to have this connection. It was almost like I was coming home after a long holiday.

I don't know how much time passed while I was just standing there, taking it all in. I was interrupted when someone's labrador tackled me to the ground and started licking my face. Normally I would have been pretty pissed off by that, but I was in a good mood. The grass was soft.

The dog's owner came over and apologised. She was pretty cute. We spoke for a minute or two about how awesome all of the writing on the wall was. I noticed a pram a little way behind her - the dog was standing next to it, almost guarding it. We kept talking and I was thinking I should ask for her number. Single mothers are great. They don't have time for bullshit.

Then I noticed a guy walk over and start playing with the baby. She blushed, said goodbye and walked back to the pram. He looked like the kind of guy that sits around in a yacht all weekend. He was wearing pastels and white shoes and had a jumper tied around his neck, even though it was a beautiful sunny day. I felt a sudden flash of anger at this perfect bitch and her perfect fucking life with her quiet kid and her awesome dog and her meal-ticket fucknut of a husband. I was about to shout after her and chase them down the road before I realised that I came here for a reason.

I tried to get a long run of photos of this wall, but my phone was running out of batteries. I got all the important bits (I think), and I might go back another time. It was a pretty sweet walk, after all.

I have a few theories about what these pictures contain, but I'd really like to hear what an outsider with an unclouded mind has to think about them.

Here are a couple of pictures so you know what I'm talking about, the rest are available as an 8MB zipfile.





If you have any ideas, let me know by leaving a comment. It'll really help me to get some fresh perspectives here. I'll try and cover off some of the last few weeks to give you all a bit more context, but to be honest I think you're better off looking at these without knowing. I need to see if it isn't just me finding all these things.

I was hoping that I could tell a lot more of the story before I got to this part.

I've been hoping for a lot of things, but enough of those hopes have been dashed in the last few weeks.

Everything I've posted so far has been about three weeks in the past. It's taking me a while to process all the events that are unfolding around me. Almost a month has passed since I first smelled shitrags and if I knew where I'd be at right now, I would have moved to another country.

The last few nights I've found myself staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, trying to decide which country I would have gone to. Guatemala always comes to mind, but I've never been there and reading about the place makes me think I'd have a hard time making much of a life for myself. I just really like saying it. Guatemala.

Maybe I'll come back to what's been happening in the last few weeks later. Maybe I'll write all about it. Maybe I'll "die in my sleep" tonight and this blog will be the only clue anyone has when they find me 6 weeks later, starting to melt into my bed, stinking of shitrags.

Suffice it to say that I've been through a lot more than I can handle. I don't want to write every little thing that I'm scared of because I don't want to just lay all my neuroses out on the table like that. I might be wrong about more than a few things. For a while there I wanted to prove that the shed was an entrance to an underground city. I guess I just really wanted it to be true. That was the first time I really questioned what was a reality and what I was imagining. I'll leave that to another time and get to the present.

I know where I'll be able to find some answers about all of this. I have followed Johnny Homeless on more than a couple of nights. I don't want to post his pictures right now. It would be a really bad move for me if I did that.

The place I need to go is the Camperdown Memorial Rest Park:

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I will explain why on the weekend, I just need to make sure that if I disappear before then that someone, somewhere will try and work out what happened. For the record, the shitrags were over here:

View Larger Map

I've spent a lot of time looking at this. There were cars when the picture was taken. I've never seen cars in that place. All I've seen there are shitrags and Johnny Homeless. I've been paying a lot of attention to the place for a month now.

I have a mission this weekend and I hope to post the results. You will understand if I manage to get there. Like I said before I don't want to put my paranoia on show for all the internet to laugh at, but if I haven't posted anything by Monday expect the worst.

Allow me explain myself before I detail my adventure.

I can understand why people might think I'm being a bit weird here. If me from last month had a conversation with me now, he'd probably walk away. I can't expect any more from you, so I think I should clear up any confusion about what my motivation is here.

The short answer is that I'm curious. Really, really fucking curious. There is a small building on this vacant block:


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I have a few questions about this building:

What the fuck is in there? I guess this is a pretty obvious question, but it's a driving force for me so I'm including it.

What's that giant satellite dish all about? I mean really, it's a small brick shed with a massive satellite dish on top. And a couple of air conditioner units that aren't plugged in to anything. There's something that just isn't right here.

I've been waking up in the middle of the night with this question going through my head. It's starting to affect my work.

My third important question (there are plenty more, but I'm trying to keep things readable here): What's that metal thing on top? I got another photo, but it didn't come out very well. I get the shakes whenever I stand around there now. More on that later.


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Looking back over my posts, I realise that I've failed to mention the homeless guy I've seen scrabbling about in there. I'm starting to think he sleeps in that metal thing up there, but I haven't seen him do it.

I've had more than a few moments where I've just thought to myself that it's an old block that maybe had satellite tv and air-con at some point and there's just some homeless guy that filled a bin with shitrags then forgot to peg down his tent. I like to think this, it calms me down. Sometimes it makes me giggle.

I probably would have believed it too, but there's something sucking me in. I can't help but think that this block is just a facade for something much more sinister. I've said it before, but someone or something is trying to communicate with me here. I can only think that the shitrags were just a way of getting my undivided attention. They succeeded.

My family has a history of depression but I've always been fairly stable. I hope I'm not losing it.

I just don't know any more.