taptpatarumtarum, mum mum mum mum, and nanny mum is Isiah line, she swears we're royal Stuarts:
Ha, the Tate Modern, went there Tuesday, after the bus from the blood test unit, stopped halfway on the route, next to nothing, so I got the number, 8, to Canning Town,
'ooooh, will there be lots of charity shops for me, there, I still have a fiver in my pocket with change..." , even after two coffees and a packet of choco-raisins, so much cash left since I stopped buying books for family, and leaving change in boxes, also because of change I had for a very cheap, bad bad, rubbish camera, (now a christmas present for sister)...
The bus stopped at a gigantic bus station, under a bridge surrounded by roads and industrial developments.
'Oh. stupid...' I wandered through London Bridge, and took the wrong turning, I stopped in the middle of a university complex, and rented students flats, wearing a hoodie covered in paint, a filthy coat, and smelly piss trousers, and a hat...I found a cafe, and bought an expensive cup of tea; It was the morning, early for me, I arrived at the blood-test an hour late, with the Indian girl, who likes so much to ask me the same question over and over, even after I can be bothered to answer her, so I had to go to the other unit, because the guy there just pin-pricks the arm, and out comes the blood, not like the stupid nurses, who wiggle it, or try different view two or three times...and I had to buy a coffee, and have a smoke, before I quequed up...and the queque was long, so she left me there, we had been ordered to go back together, but after looking for her, I left for the cafe across the road, and bought a tea.
for the past few months, I have had a terrible fear of flying.
Appearing over Dad or above a live camera, as I sit in the toilet, so, my options have been, to place my hand over myself, and shoot piss over the bowl and onto the floor, because I can't sit over it...or, to pee, in my boxer shorts, maybe wear them backwards, so the key-hole can be pissed through...ha! bloomers, fitted with a tube.
So, I go out, like this, covered also in deoderant spray.
And! To continue.
And do I shit? Yes, the diet is mainly chocolates, I shit my paints, the poppets fall all over the floor, and I clean the floor twice with wipes, adn wash my hands thrice.
I got lost in South London, for 11;00 to the bus, arriving?? 2 and a half later?
I needed the toilet, but when I found Waterloo, the toilet stopped, and saved me 30p.
I found some oddly placed shops, by the riverside...just about missed standing on dog's poo on the gras, wiped that foot, on the mat at a gallery entrance.
The first painting was shit...blue background and regular chunky flowers, colours mismatched, I paint rarely, and have started painting just this year, the pictures take about 45-50 minutes to stop, just a little before, they need finishing...
I'm trying to get to what I saw: what gave me a hunger to leave the Tate,Bacon, Francis.
The first painting was his ------I forget---- and that moment I could SEE!!!!!!!!! how he did it;
A quick light red watery wash for the background, and THEN, loose brushstrokes of one colour, Grey, for the clothing and the sitter, the shadows, were just one stroke, (2 min left) er: the use of colour, the colour was simple!!
so here's two of my 45 min paintings:
blah
THANK YOU AND GOODBYE!!
THE END, back in the fall, give it three...
When I got on the tube, I needed to pray, I can't remember why, but I huddled against a post on the edge of a seat, I started to move back and forth, gold lights appeared, I looked around giggling, there was a gorgeous man opposite reading, also giggling, he was dark, and I checked his eyes;
green!
"Oh my God! You love me! Too good-looking, and I don't like men! See the future that won't happen!" (green = true love) I cut my hair, two weeks ago, I had lice, I cut it with scissors to the scalp, and then tried a weak razor, I had bald patches, and long bits at the back. This was showing under my damn black skullcap.
Then there was a woman opposite me staring, she was about late twenties, she says 31, dark hair, thin bones, big eyes... She laughed.
"Oh my God!" I turned round; "You are beautiful, are you both Jewish!? I don't want to sit here looking at too-good looking Jewish."
---
Then last night, like the buses, women appeared much, I was just resting on the bed in the dark, because my bones and eyes ached. She appeared and lean't her head on my belly.
Then another girl appeared.
She was from the future!!
She lay there cuddling and telling me about;
school.
How, I hold my brushes differently...her name...I knew her name because, (I think/hope) that I predicted her...I had to go...because the poor baby had been sssssoooooooo upset, and then she heard me talk about God.
"Mummie Lars, you talk about Love!" She hadn't heard me try to talk before, but now, last night, I have a little demon, that keeps making me go nuts.
I punched Saul. He was hurting a woman. I saw him try to touch me, I punched him through the chest and ripped out his heart. Then I announced it. And that made the ride home with Auntie, terror, because boys started to do the same, I freak, I stopped them, kept them down, because I knew they would hurt someone innocent, I have a family to protect.
I failed, the punch went through her, I sat there at the front of the car, checking checking checking.
The kids called me. The answer was a huge scream.
I said; "Lets see what you can make in Heaven...the colours, I see the colours silver and dull red, you made a room!!"
This demon; "I don't want the room!! Take it away! That red is sins! I will punish sins!" I wondered why, it was because, I've lost, lost the Holy War...because, the red light went through, and shook me, my soul was screaming and my head was twisting round and round.
She nearly had a heart attack in her soul at the computer, a little thump. There's a new thing and an old thing, a demon.
There was a demon hanging onto a woman for three years, and I couldn't see, I saw it last night.
I saw another woman crying for God, she was being dragged along, with a knife to her neck. She wanted me to save, I only thought, touch her and let her die.
It took me a while to calm, I stopped the heart-thump gently. I kept screaming that the baby wanted to talk, I think we forget she is so young. She said;
She wasn't hearing Love. That's what she said;
"I am God!" Her voice was sweet light, her soul awoke.
I was sick. Angry. Mad.
I left the girl (I know her name, I said this time travel will kill) "And when you paint, you laugh! You say; 'Great!' It's painting souls!"...to sit with her in the kitchen. I went back upstairs
"Mummie Lars, come and watch this TV!"
If I'm her real Mummy, just another Mummy; I remember the pregnancy, Mum was a little black, and this is brutal to a growing child, when I touched her belly, just for the one time, I gave the baby green light. Black is thunder, she stayed in white...
Everyone is still sleeping, and I'm screaming;
Where is she? Where is she? The demon said, make her fall, it's a woman, it's squeaky.
The pikeys, the pikeys that used to go to a heavy metal club with me, they are trying to kill the family, they are brutal sick Devil, they try to bed my girl, they say sick about Dad, they get through the door. You think that's cool, but see what they say, how they look,; dead, evil..ugly old men, filled with maggots, souls like monsters, not just guys on drugs or a little skied with want, because you see her look, and that is wanting.
Yesterday afternoon, I sang two Surahs...I cried death of goat. I ended the prayer with Amen, and had to cool down.
You have to know when to drop, and when to slam, to be clear and free of sin, when you send up your request, send it up to the highest heavens, and beware of telling other people, just keep focusing on Allah himself, flow through, sing the sweet harmony as you relax, which makes the prayer, bow, and bow to keep the song, ask whats wrong, recognise the freak (something I could have mistaken for sick was shown to me, to stop, doing...also I have Nanny chatting to me from on high, so she got an arabic reply, show who you are, sign language, I kept hitting the front of my forehead, (see it!! You have a seal there, and it is your sacred holy Heavenly name (so, you have a Jewish name, you are Jewish, BUT, your soul name is different, and obviously Hebrew; Nanny's are watching YOU, Nanny's meddle in time...)) and cry you singing Lord...Only to Allah
Muhammed wrote down these words. I sing it like nonsense, but I speak in english, I make the words!!! YES! I wrote it...and I wrote it together with the singer, or rather while the singing was there, I stoppped after two, because the prayer stopped, switched off the record, on that, Amen.
Right; When I sing, I soul...this soul sing...the light is timed to keep you high...Allah, talk high...I became Allah, I cry...I wanted fortune, and it's time...My fortune is SING...We always sing...others sing...we have decades of writing...it's only when I'm in Koran and Islam, that I sing for my soul...A special place for prayer, where everything else goes, and I'm here...I'm clean. I sing nonsense, but they are holy words, they are made like Shakespeare, they take a little of what I think, and Damn! I even swore, I said fuck, but elongated the word, conducted the singer until the word translated as something else. Help??(I dont know)
Someone asked something that is never allowed, he was forgiven but I heard the request and I heard the reply...
I got a headache. I sang out loud, because I played them on record. The headache, was a red light in my mind and I could hear explosions, I think that was the death of the goats. And the Nephillim, (who men believe are the blood of angels) are reallly what is made when Angels get sick, that's all I know. I know we need to defeat them.
I need the pikeys down. They have no other soul, but Devil. Be aware of what meant devil-soul.
The mummy in me is a freak, I worried her so much, and I wanted to help. When PJ had a car-crash, I went walking after screaming and weeping all night (there are parallel universe, and the are different levels of Heaven) I found Mum walking her to school, down through the copse I sitting in, when I saw her face I died, she woke up looking dead, I thought we had been helled.
Please believe these 'pikeys' are sickos. Very sick.
ليست هناك تعليقات:
إرسال تعليق