7:15 am – ensure I am up to welcome the sun mother’s gifts by ingesting a heroic dose of shrooms the night before. Stare directly at the sun for 5 minutes while repeating my daily affirmation, my housemates won’t ask me to chip in for bill money today!
8:00 am – like our ancestors once did I hunt and forage for my breakfast. Find a delightful-looking beetroot & quinoa salad that one of my 18 housemates must’ve made. Pick out all the good bits and leave the rest for them. I’m a socialist when it comes to other people’s food.
8:30 am – quick chakra recharge session in my crystal room. Position my Himalayan salt lamp towards my door to send out positive vibes to whoever’s food I ate.
9:30 am – now fully charged I thank Gaia for providing for me. Time to cycle into South Freo to meet my first client – a 60-year-old faux-spiritual rich lady who pays me $150 to read her aura.
10:45 am – successfully scammed, I mean, serviced, I turn my mind to myself. Time to make a series of Facebook posts asking where I can find exotic items and services. Ignore any advice I’m given, I just want people to know I am looking for an ayahuasca shaman to guide my next drum circle.
11:45 am – lie to Centrelink about why I wasn’t able to attend any job interviews this week. Let them know that when the universe wants me to get a job, a job will get me.
1:00 pm – beat some rough sleepers to a good dumpster dive spot. Take all the fancy yoghurt and leave some mangy-looking vegetables for the desperate. Make a lengthy Facebook post about my charity.
1:30 pm – cruise down to the park to do some slacklining. Mooch all this French backpacker’s weed while he whines about being moved on from South Beach in his van. I gave him a crystal as compensation for the green.
3:30 pm – arrive home and someone in my commune asks to borrow my bike. Demand $20 and reject their offer to pay it in good vibes. Only I can use that currency. Deflect their negativity when they say I still owe $1500 in rent.
4:30 pm – the ugly demand for monies owed has thrown my chakra out of whack. I must seek out the services of a local healer and realign. Receive full treatment and pay them in Kombucha I stole from my housemates.
5:30 pm – armed with clarity. I request a house meeting via a drum circle. I take the chance to air out my feelings about the negative energy being directed at me. Mother nature doesn’t ask its creations for money so why are all of you?
6:00 pm – once again write a love letter to Pete Evans using my own period juices. One day he will accept me as his wife.
6:30 pm – jump on Bumble to find a dinner. Write a quick social media post about the health benefits of activated goat radish before I set forth.
8:00 pm – I have found myself in the back of a disgusting van again after finding his plans to join Sea Shepherd irresistible. He doesn’t believe in deodorant so the van is pungent with tantric funk. Head back to Hami Hill.
9:00 pm – do my best to wash his stink off me before bed. Collapse onto my floor mattress and annoy the living shit out of my housemates with loud chants as I thank my dream catcher for staving off the employment forces of the universe.
11:30 pm – one final raid on the fridge to secure the best produce for myself. The perfect crime.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?