الأحد، 20 مارس 2011


the days, i forget...alot has happened, the sunny afternoon, the birds started talking to me, as i smoked on the patio...Ahmara's mummy, glad to see we're married?

"We're married? I am a girl! We are married, already!?"

It was just put, it was just her, flying to my part of the house, she was no more than ignored...I wanted to teach English. So, anyway, Nan told the typical, when she was  a baby, and then how Afghanistan fell, she said it fell in soul, wehat she actually said; it was when jew's cried them to soul, so that; "And we all, fell...."

So, i spent the day, reading a hard book, a hard book about Afghanistan, a very horrible story...it wasn't the book that made me appear, someone made me think it was time to give a little more soul, to the guys crying, strange english; "It contains nuts." in an east london accent.

She didnt get as much chance to wash as me.

Was wasnt I hearing?

I began this strange, 'you touch me, i catch a disease.' So, desevrdly when I jumped oput of my bed to meet dad downstairs, and put a few things in my holdall bag, with a large rip at the bottom, 15 yrs old that bag. I felt ill. The staff-woman, who had really begun to piss me off, because she never stopped talkign and had lately taken to arguing with me, forced warm tap water on me, i sipped it a little...Cried she was a bitch in the car,a s my whole body, felt faint, weak, and very hot, with bits of puke promising to show up. So, what i've been delibrating that I wont die, well, holy. I will screaming bitch like in the car. Cancerous lungs. Cigarettes. Tune yourself, to paintings, drawing, reading....I started a few pages of sketches, in pencil and paint, quite a nice style as well, drawing in the dark under lamp-light, just shading, where the shadows fell on my face, adn leaving out detaisl, but the dark parts showed, chins, noses etc, then i painted some more, attempting to re-create the pencil drawings, and then hung on that book.

I didn't blame her for the disease, just said it too many times. I listened to her mum weeping, had to show I was listening by laughing.

"I caught two sentences, ok, ok.... I'm surprised you are glad about this, quick...

The book, with the terrible stories on it, taught me about moslem marriages. The bride and groom sit together and hold mirrors, they are meant to look into each others mirrors, before that, in the engagement party they eat sweets...or was that Eid? Taught me some Afghan words.

The disease left.

Something else happened, at night-time, as i jumped back into bed with the book. I began with this, "I ahve light from Satan to make an alternative heaven, becasue I was too white, but still Satan...." Because for some reason, she had started crying out she had fall, and that was the night, I attempted to defeat the Taliban, by cutting a hole through each heart, but Allah, put the knife through hers, but why wasn't she in Heaven?? That is the thing that would make you very ill, if you thought you had cursed someone into falling out of Heaven, because of your own doings...very sick, in the mind.

Then in bed, I heard Shaytan, I heard it call out from under the floor, and i just sighed, I've heard it so many times. So, I said, "I am in Love. I want..." I wrote this to a class of arabic girls: I flew what was happening, because I was actually screaming for help ...and when I threw it completely into my soul, it screamed, I had given 'God-bed', and I worried, "When did I give Allah, bed? Did I go to Heaven?"

One of the girls, said in an Asian -East London accent...(which is a special accent, it's cool and sexy..she's the one who gives me laughs, because she pretends she is very stupid, to make up for my stupidity, and says things ; like; "What if you were dead, and you didn't even know?".)

"Shaytan said, she gave Allah, bed, and Allah said; "My Wife is King!!"...I thought I would DIE, if she was bonk...I screamed and thought, you are going to die!! Then God said, I love Jews."

The teacher wept; "Your wife is King!" a small voice, and a pretty voice.

"Man, It died, sick."

It died sick, because I threw its voice through my body, and it cried out I was Him. And then, it sort of collapsed into itself, and made a large noise like flatulence, and it burst and died. Everyone giggled. They were amazed that I called, and that, ..."...if you love Him you're lighter than Hate..."

I wasn't sure about writing this.



You ate, fruit bread, four slices after another with chocolate spread, a whole pack of jammy dodgers, at once, dipped in bad tea, cheap bags and not enough milk, follwed with a half eaten pack of prawn cocktail crisps. You hoped she wouldnt see, when you wandered down for a mint and chocolate mousse, and back for cuddles, rolling around telling her to leave , because I am back trying to  hide under the duvet with a chocolate easter egg.

You have to write something wise, because the last post, you forgot soul. In the last post, so this is about Afghanistan:

The photo of her was taken 25 years back, that means as she hit teens, i was still a baby, at that time she lived in a refugee camp.

The first time, you held her you carried mountains. My body felt like it was spinning, Nothing like that before, pyhsical force of flying round and round...I was holding mountains, they made a face like a king, a long, straight white nose, a black-straight haired beard, and hanging moustache.

you shouldnt listen to music, and you shouldnt eat.

I was holding mountains, i was lying under a mass of rock, holding it up with only my shoulders.

"It is 1432, in 1264, the heathen year, Nanny said, the heathen year, it was, a girl landed in Spain, an arabic girl, and met a hebrew boy, adn tehy flew away to the north, and they arrived in the Emerald Isle, which means it is green, like you...and so, that is nearly a thousand years ago, 1264, which is what year is that? some 800 years back, i work it out, i am in 2011...and mummys name is Danu, and there was a king, who married into greek, because the Aryan tribe travelled further and further north, you dont know arabs were in Ireland. And i see another nanny in my eyes, with long curly hair, run out of a building on fire, with a baby in her arms, becasue of the vikings, like germans, Vikings are big and blonde. And i saw this in Robin Hood, because I thought, I want to see Fael, which might be my dad's Irish name, we have all different names, so many names, and so I call grandad Fael, and he was a King of ancient Ireland, and watched this film, in the castle, a castle is like a palace, but it is fortified, and European building...wolf-hounds, i own those...so, i wanted to see what my ancestors look like, ..."

Black, Sell for eating food before someone like that...

Speaking Afghan or Farsi or whatever came quickly...she still wanted to learn English, but i didnt know where to start with showing her.

I covered her with my duvet, to keep her warm, but i dont think she wanted a duvet, and so I tried to pray at the same time, anything bad would just turn away and walk away, there should be lots of love.

The night before, I took a knife. If the knife went through her, thats can only be God. Imagine; I was trying to destroy a whole army, at once...

السبت، 12 مارس 2011


We drove across half the country in the darkness. I was in agnosing pain. I was already dead, when she screeched I was too much to order, "When are we going?" I sat on the stairs, and nearly cried, i was crying quietly: "I don't think I want to go now, I've changed y mind...". Djamphirs and Svetochas, Pashtuns and Hazaras (chinese looking Arabs, wives taken, villages burned), in Afghanistan:

"It is half-price!" said the refugee.

She had followed Mum to the shops.

We exchanged cigarettes. Lots of cigarettes.

We reached the city.

She had followed the mum, because her friend had these amazing bright green eyes, glowing from under her dark red, robes and scarf, on the cover of New International. That was some years ago now, I found the magazine in her kitchen.

We always exchanged cigarettes, because I hung on her cigarettes.

What the girls are doing now I don't know. They had even sat together calling out,

"It contaaaaaaiiiiiiis nuttttts!"

In my lower country accent.

Barbra Striesand

Gomez. She is the Gomez now, because she stared in a dream that created a Fear and Loathing dream. Hips on adrenal beds, and large black moustache, and Yoko frizz hair.

And a banal, steeeeeeelll way of mentioning my mental health.

I walked from the patio to the kitchen through the hall, to the coded and locked thick door to the office. I spun against the walls carrying a divine book, I was taller, I wore black suit, I wore a black fedora, I was still a girl, and I had long ringlets hanging over my ears, around me crowds of similar looking women danced, alot of Yoko frizz, mostly blacks, in long silver dresses and robes, up the stairs in crowds on the walls, spinning and singing.

We didnt go out, all sunday, I was mildly pissed, I had a lot of spots dug into little caverns on my cheeks, the spit from my bed covers I forget to wash, lots of times I wasnt even brushing my teeth, but my lips were especially bigger and redder, perhaps they were after taking a round of Gingko Bilboa for a whole week. I spent the weekends, in minds, different kinds of minds. When it was sure we werent even going to leave the house to watch the city on Sunday...I cooled. I got cooler and cooler and I cuddled the cats, and I actually thought, In between the sudden joy, I stuck on some films.

I watched the Bogart film together, half sleeping on the little sofa, and then, when alone,  I stuck on Clerks...

It was hideously stupid.

It had always been my favourite film, I would say.

The jokes were disgusting and disgusting, but then I remembered the first time was when I had seen it was in a haze of cannabis smoke, and so it was my favourite film. I killed her there, because she was on the computer, adn I said: I attempted sick, because I was still sick, but spring was glancing the air, and I could still kiss...and I was getting bluer, I was turning light sky blue!!!!!!!! When I think, I can time my laughter to the conversation around me or to the radio, because then they dont ask me why I am laughing.


"Boids," she said, with a little kiss, leaning against a fence in the dark, perhaps a huge tent overhead. I'm not sure what she was doing exactly then, probably looking at a nice boy...

Organic milk, and sweetness.

Until I went out into the garden after watching Revenger's Tragedy (shakespearian talk, a play by ???)...lots of 'gay' brothers all trying to kill each other, some nice silk jackets...

"Friend...just told me, you are finding it hard to concentrate..." IN that fat-white-woman-pyschiatrist up the street-cow, accent, that keeps appearing to 'wise' me, in her speech, every fucking time....Somehow I decided Grandad had done this, long-distacne to kill me, and he was still finding prostitutes....somewhere in purgatory...it had to be someone with a bit of magic, I decided it was Grandad, 95 yrs old, nearly blind, and alone for some of the time in a flat, you have to walk upstairs to get into, where Nanny died...Nanny who was the one who would, get me to help her, make my own bed...

Inner scream..."I'm not even speaking to her, and she's on facebook..."

When it got close to pub-time, I had died in bed upstairs, I was suddenly too tired, and I was prepared to sleep in teh house why they were gone. I got up, and we all walked there.

When we got to the back entrance of the pub which was at the top of the road on the corner, we heard screaming, I spotted a black coat, on the pavement some steps ahead...a beautiful woman in high heels, and very short skirt, was punching the Pub's back-gate with her fists, stepping backwards, screaming loudly, and then slipping into a western accent when I 'observed that she didnt have an accent, use an accent...

Then she began bashing the wooden gate with her skull. That woman who can headbutt, started to stumble towards me, past the open boot of her car, as I quickly and slowly walked over  to the other side of the road, to cut her at the pavement and get away...She looked at me for a second and ruffled up her hair, with a dreamy blind smile...When I said, No, she turned and stumbled back towards the wooden gate. We got in the pub. Friend, had attracted very fat men with glasses at the next table.

"Are they pids?? These men are perverts, you can see this, they look normal, but what are they ???"

Then I noticed how gorgeous she was, a true blonde, straight bob, and big funny goggle eyes, and a clean clear white face, she's  a vegetarian, even straight for the organic milk, which I was ordered by the fat-woman not to touch...

"What am I then to this family??" My first show of desperation...

We walked home, fuck, I dont know where we walked, because I was Cola, and then friend had bought me a pint, which I drank so quick because I was cold and tired. When we somehow gathered , oh no, because someone had to find that woman in the streets make-up which they were bending over and staring at in the dark, and I heard; sick; a discussion about how they were gonnna say i had gone nuts again, etc, very intelligent evil talk, so I staggerd back tot he road, no-one could pronounced. It was the night before, I forgot the whole day, blood...I made a magical thing, when I passed my hand over my womb,a dn

transported an egg to any belly I wanted so I transported this egg in the street, adn got happy , grabbed a waist...

We stoppped at a stamp=collecters mall. I bought Republic of Iraq, stamps...I walked ahead, and turned, danced backwards clicked my fingers. In sleep I came back put the hand on the belly, and zapped away the egg...

She was still leanign against a pole in the tent, staring and smiling tiny:

"I vant to put."

She bended in bed and cried; "Black bitch~! Black bitch!"

Then She said: "I vant."

الجمعة، 4 مارس 2011


write jewish soul

she is like light. she gives me depression, highs, and shaking screaming, bothers, heated necks and buzzing brains. death. then, at those moments, i dont know whats happened. and I dont know what happens when i'm soothed. It's not drugs, that i think are making

me sick.. And then i saw it happen. So, it was saying, "I love thee..." Even if the lover isn't in the room, even very far away.

Someone prayed the damned Hell, into something resembling sweetness, i think there is a rule, somewhere that says dont pray for the damned. But we pray, them short, and we pray them lazy. We have to keep them resembling a bit of light, to save others.

She came back, on the dya the other one came back...

Elton John.

"How many people did you call to God here?" Dangerous,

"How many converted?"

There's some problems in this battle. Like having a sense....of hearing. Something enormously yellow and yellow ochre, flew over the bedroom ceiling.

I adjusted to Spirit, when I feel sick, I wave a hand over my head and say Kosher!

"It works it works! I feel well!"

We complained. Someone let in an evil day-sleeper. I am intent on killing again. I clap my hands. I clap- like thunder, spark my hands,d raw a melting burnign crucifx into my hands, and BAM!!!!!! every evil man is dead.

I just rest. Something fell out of our bed, It was a tiny creamy white bald man with a wrinkly face.

Sorry, but it was Elton John a homosexual. It turned, that she had called him, about God, and about being a Queen for God. He heard her, he cling onto her soul, and I am crying out: Bad Hashem, Bad Hashem to our souls!!

It was funny he said something freaky, but he had planted himself there for a long time... it he said was gross, but it was funny.

Then I can hear evil voices this time, on the radio I carry about the house...It's bad, I have t find God, and tell directly, I cant find anyone about this or we are dead. Clap hands.

Last night, i walked the street in the wind. The wind said: They are going to fight her, you must tell them no...

do it yourself, you do it. I'll do it once. No hope...A sister prayed the 'baddie'...I call out, to him, He says, I'm am shitting out of my ---- (butts) I see that I see yellow ochre...I see yellow ochre from your bottom, enough,......

These homosexuals probably think I am an Israeli man.


I am going to go through her small album today, 'uh huh her', because the guy in Stories they think is a 'sexy mouse'...well,huh.

I am going to win!

الأربعاء، 2 مارس 2011

Insane 3

i saw her. walking around that room is vices, you overcame a terrible hatred.The stars were singing, the family wept like king. like they wanted to know why.why tell them he is homosexual evil? why let him into heaven? where did he light, i came into heaven alone, and everyone suddenly suddenly got a passport, why cant you see what he called? The misery is his. So, so what i saw, a terrible light around his . bum. and then me, i'm trying to walk home through the streets in the dark, at 10 at night, somehow, light is calling someone to try to. especially.

castrate me.

castrate a woman, by cathching her on a fence. and saw that, i saw damnation, and i saw my own light when i crossed the light.

burgundy, and strawberry. 

strawberry; cool, liberal god.

burgundy: women who love women.

damn, walking around in damnation...

"HE calls a pid, to his bottom..."

hahha, i'm mad.

anyway, we're trying to right.

lots of girls dont even know what meant satan.

Insane 2

Serpents, the way i call for writing, mean't, from God, to 'have bed'. So, i joked and jumped about the bed.

I let every one of the words that didn't have time to form in my mind, out in the bed.

I couldnt save. He only said 

'have bed.'


coffee intake....three instant and two cappucinos four teas one cafe...usually, three to four mochas and cappucinos a day.


led to me rolling around the room. yoga positions. tai chi, very slow hand movements and balance of feet.


totally, madness, mad talk rolling in bed.

'serpents' odysseus


forgot my sandals out of the entrance of my room-door out to smoke. greek slippers. greek bed. hands together, elbows wide apart, a floating head left to right.

totally dead nuts, the toilet is locked up with thick tape across it...the inside of the toilet is still covered in a puddle of pissy water, because i opened, then put the tape back over. i didnt do htat last night, instead i crept in that corner, placing hands in patiular places of the walls, with silver lights coming from my eyes. Then i went into the hallway, and collasped in a weird dance by the door, the door covered in a foot of muck and tea stains.

I have never been this aware of going totally insane, and as impossible to prevent, so i just let the talk, i woke up this morning imaging the exact same, I cried out:

Pray me, cool!!!!!

The manager of the house repeated in cynical undertones, 'PRAY me. cool. 'tut''


i got the bus and came in to work. I know have a length of wood painted in turquoise and bits of silver, i'm trying to draw and colour in a tree with no leaves.

I hate the art, now.

I should, in such a angered way, draw lengths of scribbles in black and red, like a polish jew, like toploski, like auerbach. But i'm light. Light needs light. Always light. 

I need to know how to right.:

I will try to write last night: I ad to touch mummys foreheadin the cafe, adn tickle a bit of hair, to know she's alright, because, i went evil, over tajweed, i wne tso evil, i refused to sing, and threw somehting bad at mum and heard her crying in the corner, then when the HAfiz realised what was happenign she led the prayer in the next ayat of the surah, i went like a majestic, absolute refusal...evil and deadly refusal to save. Then hair -grabbing silence...then sweet, slow reading individually.

And when I got home, I finally died.