الأربعاء، 11 أغسطس، 2010

Making Music 2

(beware of this post if you're frummy)

If you seek Amy tonight...Sister gets a free million dollars, and discovers my favourite club, in a white tunnel, through the big doors into an auditorium, with small doors into a movie area, full of horror films, and art-horror films...the last time I tried to get to the club was by a magical underground tube station route...I'm in a dark city area, but the frum (jewish girls in skirts and headcoverings ) -girls want me to pray with them, I want to go to the club, I wake up...and go to the station...still in the dream

"Now they're closing up the club..." It doesn't make any sense does it?? But I discover on the way, she's bought it out, my sister, with the money I gave, and it's been closed down..."Ohhh..."

Amy always disappearing on her benders...They are people standing in our way, on the way to see a concert featuring Amy, the Britney chaperone tells them to clear the way, because I'm a unpopular boss in Heaven...I turn into a man...Rehab, Summer 08 or 07...she calls me in the garden, I'm high on a mixture of red pill medication and things from Heaven needles I put in my hand, I dont want to talk, we last met in a karate match...Aunty is a big afro-haired nerd, very tall....she has a monotonous voice...I recognise it..."Can somebody, take me home?" Now we allllll know Amy's favourite drink...I turn into a family guy...

In A Place, was a soul song, an awful attempt at honouring a family who wanted me to marry their little daughter...it was the first family...it contained an F chord...to B...to an Eminor...magic that I found the chord sequence...I even sang it...

the paracetamol event went on for about 2 weeks, that's two weeks of taking magical MDMA.



There is also, the Wibbly-Woof, of Planet Jesus, light blue dust,, silver trees, one mental disabled trip out to a park, I was taking drugs every few steps...say 200 yards...I took;

Ezquitar Dime; gold dust. That makes me sing in fluent Italian...

LSD (acid) a pile of dark blue stuff...american stuff...that made all the trees become more trees, dark blue dusky trees...

I was wary of Dabalien Evil, (a grey dust, a dark grey the colour of Hell)

The black liquid stuff, a type of acid,

I was also walking and writing a book, with someone taking down my lines...

In the hospital, I took a whole night...I took some of the blue stuff...the next morning I had  blood/or rather a routine urine test...they found

Heroin

that was surprising, because I had only taken LSD, and too all accounts, because I couldnt leave the premises, I was taking no more, than other peoples tobacco...

There was a horrible night too, when I lay in bed, and men flew to me, and injected me in the body with about ten needles, I had to call Amy, and told her...she sang to me, and said cool...I managed to fight the drug, and got up ten minutes later feeling OK...I didnt tell what happened exactly...then a long time later, I thought maybe she was with bad men, who had been put "Into her FLY"

One day she told me she was on the way to church...I was fighting Satan, there was a hugely obese monster man outside the window, made of shit, actual faeces for flesh...I killed it...I encountered a black hound with big firey red eyes lurching at me, as I stood outside the doors with mum and dad, smoking...I grabbed a very silly, giant sword made of neon blue fire, and sliced it in half...I kicked the bin.

Now I know the obese man wasn't Satan but an old aquaintance...a very sick man...flying to our car, with the baby sister inside, and telling us:


"Chicken Liver balls, chicken liver balls..."

And other things as recounted here: PJ HARVEY (be prepared for bad lyrics)...who in fact I think I have always forgiven since I heard the song...particularily the sick, the fact that I have been fighting this pervert for along time...and that he said those things to my sister just turned 11, and did more...

I want him dead...

IS this six with a piddopile, how many times have I cried him to HELL...cried Hell, and the first fly, was when I thought I was calling friends...it was becoming, years more of Hell...see-ing things he did, see-ing him

well, this recount, is ...perhaps you find it funny, but there hasnt been one day in four years, when I haven't died and screamed and fought, and think, also, that he would fly to the kid-sister...

he keeps making a man in the house, call out "small penis." over and over... and what are you supposed to make of that?

I just left her, I've left her alot..why? why? why? perhaps I don't understand...look; red:

God...this is anonymous...I think writing things like this is trouble, VENGENCE, a silly word...Now I'm cursing now I'm praying for a girl to see him Hell, not lovers...if I reveal things she will never recover, so why cant somebody just make her think NO?

"May Father Hell him Foul" This man who used to repeat disgusting words, because we? I thought he was in white man Hell, and even on lotssssss of cannabis began to realise they were seedy men, sitting in a cab with two them and suddenly calling out loud they were peddles, and then the all the magic, old men appearing, knowing in Soul to get the Hell out of there, running to a police station see-ing everything turn to night...discovering there wasn't any fight with God or Satan in him...getting sick on them appearing at the house every-day...hating, screaming making such a fight that I smashed windows, hated in the end see-ing his handsome face, whacking him with the nearest item, a curtain pole, bang straight into his forehead, the creepier men appearing talking about the invention of concentration camps,

being called, a "Holocaust Boy."

Ran...

Then wanting him to know I was King...

Ran screaming. And every day fighting Hell...see-ing Foul

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