Art Gallery

When I walked off from Her, I kept saying:

"Bitch."

Bitch, Bitch, from the garden to the bed...I had been calling women bitch, out loud, knowing, there was a man in the shadows, somewhere in the mind. It's gross, some silly people, think they have to send words, which look like lines of different coloured light, into my skull, and into my brain, which, sorry, have exactly no, ears to hear you with...

There was screaming...at the art-gallery: A couple walked out from the restuarant into the smoking garden;

"Oh! Sweet, that woman's dressed as a nun!" They went to sit with some rich germans beside me...I started to notice.

"OK, the robe is leopard print..."

I kind of forgot that leopard skin is very rude material, so I was glancing back, thinking, OK, thats meant to be sick...prostitute.

A woman screamed, and screamed for a long time after I had gone back inside, walking over to a big picture that caught me with traditional hebrew writing...

"And a big gay head!!" A picture of a gross looking queer, then to my left, a creamy, slimy, plastic flesh coloured swastika...

"Well, I expect this..." The screaming continued...I started to feel dizzy and sick...the couple, the Nun, was carrying a bottle of something, and the man was wearing plastic black robes, with silver-studded crucifix, and a klux hat, with a platter, of bacon..

"If that bacon is uncooked, gross...you cant eat uncooked."

Something made me giggle,  a very tall model, with brown spiky short hair, a sheepskin jacket, falling off one shoulder, a blue shirt, extra long legs, holding hands with a small dark-haired teacher looking woman...

The art was inspiring because lots of it was bad...