I have an obsession with abandoned buildings and post apocalyptic literature. Last night I was walking through West End and said to my friend "Gee the floods were awesome!" and then realised how insensitive that statement was. So many people lost loved ones, their homes, were displaced, lost sentimental possessions. I was fortunate. My propensity to live on hills served me well. I attempted to explain why I loved the flood. The flood to me, in a snapshot moment was tearing down ann street in the valley, on that hill as you head off the story bridge and towards the city. I'd had a couple beers and was tearing down a 5 lane road at midnight and it was dark - no lights and deserted, not a single car, not a single soul except for me and Alister. And I remember yelling out with pure adrenalin filled joy and thinking "remember this moment. This is a snapshot of youth." And I have held that moment with me. So every time I think of the flood I remember the view of my hands on the handle bars of my bike and this swelling feeling of excitement and adrenaline in my chest. This was as close to post apocalyptic literature as I could get. Well I COULD get a lot closer. However, this was nice, safe, strange adventure.

So ... I don't know why I felt a need to write this. I wanted to update this blog. I will now leave you with one of my favourite images of all time.

Paris flooded 1910, books spilled onto the streets