"Please Help....Lars has SOUL...he needs work, he will touch Light...I want Light...See Her...my name is Michal..."
The naughty dog, sits outside the empty Synagogue, now, for two days a week, you can bet I called everyone; that; I'm in Hell...
The naughty dog sits outside the extra building for 'women only' prayers, in the doorway, smoking a cigarette, with a scarf hastily wrapped round the head...the men here are "very conservative."
"I am too, I'm sick of see-ing men..."
Another girl in my class smokes too...she's married and Asian, everyone in my class here to learn Arabic are Asian...
"Where was I born? I'm a white girl!"
Continually crying to God, and then, not even listening to the white cloud in my eyes, is making me slow and stupid, I spend 45 minutes praying, when I should know vowels, and how to join letters and not mix them up...I just laugh far too loudly, I throw my laugh over the fence seperating us, I wince and sigh and worry when the Adhan starts, and the teacher bends to pray, I make him say, "tha's Good." when I read out the letters, it makes me sick, I hate the use of power that makes people speak, at the lowest level, which means, my english, if I think in English, I'm pretty well-developed in Punjabi, yet I guess the flow of the words I speak, is nonsense; like I've just invented the language...it's hard to stay in silence...
...I jump in peoples beds for Help... I cry
"I'm the guy in the crown, I'm crowned Cohen..." I have a hat, alot like this,
but sometimes it's deep purple (sorrow) sometimes dark green (true love), much like, the first time I saw myself in that hat, I was lying across the floor, and being given a magical hat, rubbing the skin of my face all-over the ground, cut on stones and dirt (mourn Israel).
Then I Hell-Fire, talk, I repeat what Satan did. I have failed everyone, and mostly created nervous breakdowns...
Then I get confused, very confused...
"Are these women real? Who was that man? Who made that happen, I mean a man who thought he was a king and that I was a new wife...and that I swore to kill him, because of everything, and I cursed and cursed him...and that knocked me down...and then I see it was'nt even real..."
Then I don't want to be King, because I have a huge deep black face, for King.
I sat in corner of the station by the pub, in a pool of piss. "Oh well, that's ok."
Then I thought I could kiss this wife, on the train.
Then, I got home, I went to the couple in bed for help...my neck ached because my head was being thrown forward, and my arm went funny, because, I was ;
"Going through a change, they are forcing me to turn into a man, I not your Jesus!! STOP CALLING! I'm a girl...I hate your Jesus..."
Then I was screaming and growling and cursing, and having a fit on the floor. I couldnt get away from the couple, and when I saw him kiss his wife's shoulder, I went nuts, rolling on the floor, and those wings, becoming like a little tree-bush, that kept screaming and fluttering all round my face...And I screamed and cursed them, and vowed to curse them everywhere...then I calmed nad sat on my chair, cross-legged, wearing a crown of thorns, the spikes in my forehead, and I heard voices, and voices that were killing. And I stayed there, for a very small amount of time.
Jo Daemen cover designs
قبل عامين (2)