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."

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