The 1989 Disney film The Little Mermaid follows a young mermaid named Ariel who dreams of living among humans. After falling in love with Prince Eric, she makes a dangerous deal with the sea witch Ursula, giving up her voice for a chance to become human and win his love.
What I love about this movie is that it contains a classic Disney "I want" song. By that, I mean a song where the main character expresses what they long for — something they dream of, usually because they feel their current life is lacking in some way.
Part of Your World is about Ariel, the film's protagonist, feeling out of place in the world she was born into and longing to be part of the human world she has been observing from afar. She collects human objects, dreams of walking on land, and wonders what it would be like to live freely among people, even though everyone around her expects her to be content as a mermaid.
At a deeper level, the song is about yearning for a different life — wanting to belong somewhere else, to experience things that seem out of reach, and to become the person you feel you are meant to be. It is less about Prince Eric and more about Ariel's desire for freedom, discovery, and self-determination.
She sings, "What would I give if I could live out of these waters?" and later asks, "What's a fire and why does it — what's the word? — burn?" before pleading, "When's it my turn?"
What I love about this song, and songs like it in Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin, is that the lyrics were written by the brilliant Howard Ashman. Ashman was an American lyricist, playwright, and producer who helped revive Disney animated musicals in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Working alongside composer Alan Menken, he wrote the lyrics for many beloved songs in The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and Aladdin.
Ashman believed songs should reveal a character's deepest desires and move the story forward — a philosophy that helped shape what became known as the Disney Renaissance. He died from AIDS related illness in 1991 at the age of 40, but his influence on musical theatre and Disney animation remains enormous.
You can watch Part of Your World below.
I remember watching Oprah interview Meghan Markle. She spoke about the criticism and negative press she experienced after falling in love with Prince Harry. During the interview, she recalled watching The Little Mermaid and identifying with Ariel, who falls in love with a prince and ultimately loses her voice. It was clearly a story she felt reflected some of her own experiences.
I have to admit; I didn't feel a huge amount of sympathy. Whilst I appreciate that the scrutiny they faced must have been incredibly difficult, it's obscene how much time they spend talking about their struggles when they enjoy a level of wealth and privilege most people could only dream of.
I remember watching Harry and Meghan being interviewed in South Africa and finding myself shouting at the television as they spoke about their struggles. My reaction was, "Why don't you step outside the compound you're staying in and ask the local people how hard life can really be?"
Anyway, when I didn't hear back from Peter about the bright red VW Beetle, I started to draw a comparison between how I managed my love for the judge in Sydney fifteen years ago and my love for the Beetle.
When I first met the judge in an anteroom between two courtrooms in March 2011, I fell instantly, deeply and unequivocally in love with him. Like the car, in my opinion, he looked as though he wanted someone to pick him up.
After a few months of working with him, I was certain it was a done deal. When I spoke to some friends, they advised me that the only way to seal the deal was for me to initiate something. So, I wrote a Post it note and left it on his bench.
On the Post it note, I wrote:
"Dear Your Honour,
Your courtroom can be very thought provoking.
Kind regards,
Me"
At the time, I thought it spelled out what I wanted, but I wasn't being clear. There is almost an air of youthful arrogance about it. I seemed to think he would somehow understand exactly what I meant without me ever having to say it. Before I had the opportunity to explore it any further with him, I had been let go.
That Post it note is much like the first message I sent Peter about the car. In my mind there is no doubt that I wanted it, but in a sense, I was acting coy. Rather than saying exactly what I wanted, I hinted at it and hoped he would work out the rest.
I ask so many questions, but I never actually said, "I want your car more than I have ever wanted any car in my natural born life."
"Hello I am interested in your car. I just have a few questions. Is the vehicle currently registered? How long have you owned it? Do you have service records? Has the timing belt been replaced? If so, when? Are there any known mechanical issues? Are you happy for a mechanic to inspect it? Thanks, Me"
If I had my time over with the Judge and with Peter, I would have just cut the crap and got straight to the point. I want what you're offering, and what do I have to do to get it? I have always been a believer that the person who controls any relationship is the one who cares the least. And Peter cares the least.
With the Judge, I first sent flowers to him and his associate after I was let go, and his associate called and told me the Judge loved the flowers and invited me into the courts for a coffee with him. I said I wouldn't go. This didn't happen with Peter, but with the Judge it was a mistake not to go and meet him for coffee. I see that now, but at the time I was deeply humiliated by the way I was let go from the courts.
Then things got weird, both with the Judge and with Peter. I wrote the Judge an absolutely insane letter about Jesus, the Bali Nine and the journey sperm goes through to fertilise an egg. It was absolute madness. I asked the Judge to call me.
And with Peter, that's when I behaved in a delusional manner. Really, after he didn't respond to me, I still asked him to call me as though nothing had happened at all. Then, with both of them, I corrected myself. I sincerely apologised for my previous correspondence and then I laid it all on the line.
After not hearing from Peter, I could physically feel the same pain I felt from being separated from the Judge. I also felt exposed, desperate and, most of all, I felt like such a fool. I think the chances of finding a bright red VW Beetle with 120,947 km on it for just under $7,000 again are very unlikely.
But it got me thinking. What if I flipped VW Beetles? There is one on Carsales.com for $2,200. What if I bought it, did it up and then sold it again? What if I bought multiple VW Beetles and parked them all up the street? Incidentally, there is a bright pink VW Beetle a couple of houses down. My street could become a hub of VW Beetles.
And then I realised that my way of processing lost love is the same for animate and inanimate objects. For me, it was much like the movie Red Dog. When Red Dog's owner dies, the dog travels all around the Pilbara and Western Australia looking for his owner, refusing to believe he is gone.
It's like what I did when I wrote to all the judges of Australia and the world, searching for something. I'm still not exactly sure what that is, but it's the same principle as the VW Beetles. I'll never find another one like the beautiful red one that stole my heart. But as a result of that, I want to surround myself with VW Beetles because they remind me of the one I love.
I really think there's something in that. When I didn't hear from the Judge or from Peter, I found myself inventing excuses for them. Maybe they hadn't received my letter or message. Maybe they were busy. Maybe there was some genuine reason they hadn't responded. But eventually I would think to myself, who am I kidding? He's just not that into you.
I thought that was the case with both of them, but on Saturday I was shocked to receive a message from Peter:
"I will not be home until Monday."
Now, I personally think he is pretty rude. That was a rude response to my four messages, and it was also rude that he didn't respond earlier given that it was obvious I was stressed about it. Nevertheless, I responded immediately with an offer. He is asking $6,888 for the car and I offered $7,000. He saw the offer, but he didn't respond.
Today is Tuesday and I sent him the following message:
"Hi, I'm just following up on the Beetle. Is it still available? If so, I am still interested.
Kind regards,
Me"
To his credit, he responded in good time.
"Yes, still available."
He did not mention my offer or invite any further discussion, so I immediately sent the following two messages:
"I've made an offer, is that okay with you?" and "If it's okay, I can come and pick the car up tomorrow. Does that suit you?"
Peter has seen the messages, but he hasn't responded. This is quite possibly the most painful online interaction I have ever been a party to.
A picture of Peter has begun to form in my head. I was thinking maybe he is intellectually disabled. I don't mean that in a derogatory or demeaning way. I genuinely found myself wondering whether he has some sort of cognitive impairment because I have never encountered anybody who communicates quite like this. Every response arrives days later and contains only the absolute minimum amount of information required to keep the conversation alive.
Then I started thinking that maybe I was being unfair. The advertisement describes the Beetle as having been owned by a "cautious grandma driver". What if that grandmother was his wife and she has passed away? What if he is genuinely torn about selling the car? I really don't know.
What I do know is that no person in their right mind would put an advertisement online, receive an offer from an ultra-keen buyer, and then drag the process out for nearly a week unless there was some reason for it. Whether that reason is grief, poor communication skills, indecision, an intellectual disability, or something else entirely, I have no idea.
Whatever the explanation, I'm not sure how much longer I can dance this dance. It is seriously annoying me, but when I think about how much I want the car, I suspect I am just going to have to ride it out.
The difference between the Judge and my interactions with Peter over the Beetle is that Peter eventually got back to me, even if it has been in these excruciating little pellets of information. The Judge never got back to me. I think in both instances there is another similarity. Peter may have no apparent ability to conduct a normal conversation with another human being, but I am not exactly a master of mainstream communication myself.
Ariel longs to be part of the human world. Well, so do I. I long to communicate without freaking people out. I long to hold down a job. I long to study successfully. I long to have a large group of friends, a husband, and all the other things that seem to come so naturally to everyone else. I want to be part of that world.
Someone else who I feel like has lived her life as an outsider is Josie Murray. Josie is a 75-year-old transsexual woman who is the grandmother of four-year-old Gus Lamont, who went missing without a trace on 27 September 2025. He was last seen playing outside the homestead at Oak Park Station, a remote sheep station near Yunta in South Australia, about 320 kilometres north-east of Adelaide.
It's as if this poor little boy simply vanished into thin air. The police initially thought he had wandered off, but on 5 February 2026 SAPOL declared his disappearance a major crime. Josie Murray has been declared the main suspect, while Gus's parents have been ruled out. Police have said that aspects of Josie's timeline were inconsistent with those provided by others.
The Superintendent who I am making the Book of Police Oaths for has been heavily involved in the case, and I think the way he has managed the media surrounding Gus's disappearance has been impressive. On Sunday night, Spotlight aired an interview with Josie and I was very surprised they were allowed to do that.
The framing of the program was that SAPOL had discriminated against her because she is a trans woman. I was watching it thinking, couldn't this prejudice a jury if it goes to trial? Surely there are laws against this sort of thing. Mum, having worked in media, said that because the matter isn't before the courts it was allowed.
Josie seemed matter-of-fact and slightly cold, although she did become emotional at times when talking about Gus. In my opinion, the interview was a very strategic move and the way the discrimination issue was framed may work in her favour if the matter ever goes to trial.
Watching the Spotlight special, they discussed the possibility that an eagle may have picked Gus up. I remember thinking Mum was being incredibly unrealistic when she first suggested that theory shortly after he disappeared. But it appears investigators have taken the possibility seriously.
Josie seemed to think that Gus was abducted and could still be alive. I hope that is the case. Whatever happened to him, it is difficult to imagine the anguish his family must be experiencing while they continue to live without answers.
The last I wrote, I was going to attend the Media Make Up Academy next year and study special effects makeup. The plan had been to complete a Bachelor of Journalism online at the same time, but I've finally cut the crap. At the end of the day, when it really comes down to it, I want to be a conceptual artist.
I don't know whether I will ever make any money as a conceptual artist, but I have to try. I just have to. To do that properly, I need to go back to university. I need to go back to art school. So I withdrew from everything else I had enrolled in and re-enrolled in the Bachelor of Fine Arts at Adelaide University. I am not going to change my mind. I start in August, and this time I am simply going to sit down and do it.
I know that if I can master some technical skills, I can create meaningful work. But first I have to give myself the opportunity. For years I have talked about it, thought about it and planned for it. Now I am finally giving myself a chance. That's exactly what I am going to do.
The Little Mermaid gets interesting when a violent storm hits Prince Eric's ship. The ship catches fire, is wrecked, and Eric is thrown into the sea. Ariel rescues him from drowning and drags him onto the beach. As he begins to regain consciousness, she sings to him about what she would give to live near him and be where he is. When one of Eric's attendants approaches, Ariel retreats to a rock in the water and watches as he is led away.
This is the moment she makes up her mind. She no longer wants to be part of his world; she is determined to become part of it. The longing that defined the original song transforms into determination. She climbs onto a rock and sings the reprise of Part of Your World. Disney should probably be ashamed of how much they sexualised this character, but the sentiment behind the song is powerful.
She sings:
"I don't know when,
I don't know how,
But I know something's starting right now."
And then:
"Watch and you'll see."
You can see the reprise of Part of Your World below.
I want to be normal. I think that's everyone's world except mine.
