Dear Palace, I miss you…
I miss you.
You were host to some of the raddest times of my youth.
There was the time I nearly got crushed to death in the Cradle of Filth mosh in 2001. Earlier, Conor and I had been drinking beers on the doorstep of some nearby church around the corner (I hid our one remaining beer in a bush, to retrieve after the gig). Later, we walked to The Paladin on Bourke St and danced at Abyss, one of Melbourne’s best and last goth nights.
There was that other time in 2003 where you were so cold I decided to leave my (faux) fur jacket on, and later passed out from heat exhaustion/dehydration/vodka in the middle of the room just before the final song of a Placebo gig. I got dragged out by Renee and some guy and Ren and I got free bottles of water which I remember being really excited about.
I could continue but I just get too sad.
I remember the day you burned. It was July 2007. You had already been left for dead, but the horror at seeing you engulfed in flames from my then-boss’s 18th story St Kilda Road office window was almost too much to bear.
Still, time does heal, right? I thought I was over you, but I was at St Kilda beach today and I realised there is a hole you left that can never be replaced.
Here is photographic proof:
That space on the left is still rather empty.
But still evocative of so many memories.
x Kitten of Doom
PS. I miss Bass Station!!!