Journal writing to freedom (for one night)


Almost every entry in my personal journal begins with so. They tend to read a lot like this;

So I fucking hate/love (there is no grey in my world of passion) … insert rant or rave here ⇓

One of my favorite journal entries looks exactly like this ⇒ So it was an interesting day today.

So it was an interesting day today.

A single ambiguous line with absolutely no context. I happen to actually remember my reasoning at leaving a single sentence like that on a page. I was feeling as though my life at the time was so utterly boring, without anything note worthy happening in not a single moment of my oh so utterly mind numbing monotonous existence within the same four walls day in day out, that the word “interesting” would be all the prompting I would need to remember the events of said day. I didn’t even write the date!

Clearly I was feeling oh so very sorry for myself. Tinged with a smugness at my having an interesting day.

“Take that future Kylie… In a week or two, when you stumble across this entry, you will see just how amazing that day was, hope your boring life is even more sucky now biatch!”

Anyway, the point i’m making is that stumbling across the journal entry of ambiguous vagueness, spanning one entire line, a whole complete sentence fitted with grammar and everything, made me realise… that… I… need…


One night off from being a 24/7 single mother, who has exceptional routine keeping skills!

Tomorrow morning I am going to drop the kids off at their Nanna’s house (she is not my Mum tomorrow!) I am going to come home, and I am going to get dressed up, high heels, make up, the whole she-bang. And I will – for the love of god – enter a licensed premise, you know…the ones with those people standing behind a bar waiting there at the ready for the sole purpose of making you any alcoholic beverage you desire with as much speed as they possibly can!

You know the places, they have taps, like the ones water comes out of at the sink with a twist of the tap handle, yeah they have those but BEER comes out of them!!!

Aghhh I feel so god damn excited! I am going to leave my home, no kids in tow, and head to an adult only venue, to drink adult only beverages, with other adult humans!


So excited! And a tad nervous!

© 2018 Controverse Sunrise



Lonely quote

Loneliness is heavy

It is paradoxical

A lone singular

~Controverse sunrise 2018



Sacrificial lamb sacrificed Happiest age for the most The spine stands tall Backbone matures, guile Numerological masterful Essential discovery, life & its meaning Leads the way Paves the time Colouring … Continue reading 33

Writing on writing

I want to write about writing. Mainly because I just read a blog post and it inspired me to write about what I really want to write about. And I want to write about writing damn it!


What about writing though? I have no clue. Maybe I will write about structure.

Sometimes you can write a piece that is littered with grammatical errors and might not be edited as much as needed, but if the structure is there, along with a logical flow of ideas tied in, the writing is going to be pretty darn good either way.

How does one have good structure?

Always have an introduction, main body, and conclusion. Each paragraph must contain one main point. And each paragraph should end and the next begin with a linking sentence.

The only way to adhere to structure restrictions is by knowing roughly what will be getting said throughout. This requires an outline. I always write from an outline. Ok that is a lie, I always write academic texts from an outline.

Creative writing usually springs to mind more organically. Sometimes I think of something simple, like a particular emotion, that I want to convey, and then begin writing. Other times I have written an entire poem based around my desire to use the work ‘fuck’ over and over although in a way that makes the usage seem necessary and not over done. I had no idea how or what or who I was going to use to convey the story, nor did I even have an idea in mind apart from wanting to say ‘fuck’. I must confess that an idea followed quite quickly but still.

Lately, though, I have nothing!


It is frustrating me.

I am frustrated, and I just want to write. I want to create. I want to feel the aliveness that always fills my chest and mind after reading over something surprisingly okay, that I feel a tinge of creators pride over.

Amazingly I may have actually forged my desire in this post. Without an outline. That was meant only as a rant…




Then – Poem to Remember My Father Who Died 20 Years Ago Today

I just stumbled across this poem and had to share it. Enjoy!

Robert Hilles

My Dad on Smith Farm 1940sMom and Dad 1957Four of us in River Hills 1957Picture 001

My father, Austin Edwin Hilles (Micky) died 20 year ago today  (July 16, 1995). He was the inspiration for this early poem of mine and the last lines in particular are an homage to him. I have written many poems about him over the years but this poem in particular recognizes what he tried to give me. I wrote this poem 40 years ago now.

The poem, Then, from my very first book, Look the Lovely Animal Speaks, published in 1980 by Turnstone Press. I wrote this poem in late 1975 with a pen and paper. Did not even have a typewriter yet. Seems a long time ago now that I wrote this (I was in Chris Wiseman’s creative writing class at the time – he is a master teacher and poet).


poverty teaches no one
it’s just dark and small
like a revolver.
always ready to…

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