Wednesday, 6 July 2011


Was going to write something all profound for this space. Instead I've put the Cardiacs on and I'm just going to see where this post takes, trying to imitate Kerouac I suppose.

  He woke up, looked around, trying to hold onto the bed hoping the bed would stop spinning. The sun was casting a sickly yellow glow around the room. He could see where the damp was rising up the wall, a race against the peeling wallpaper making its way down the wall. The carpet was rising in the corners, the TV blaring in the corner, must have left it on last night.
  Standing up, legs shaking. Looking for a gown, pulling on its tattered remains, longing to be anywhere but here. Fighting everyday and never winning, always fighting. Life was a battleground, your too lose or forever spend in the trenches. A bloody battle in which all sides lose, no victories can ever be permanent. Walking to the door, never mind leaving was always a challenge. Outside was better left outside. People everywhere, scuttling about. Talking, chattering nonsense. Was it of any importance?
  Fighting and jostling for position. Always in despair that they are not richer. Losing everyday. Death surrounding all. Always racing, yet never finishing. Rushing, battling for position. Still it was nearing time to leave the room. Join them in a sickly dance. The sun was nauseas.
  Finding cords and putting them on, he opened the door. Bathed in light. Fighting with the key to lock the door, wondering why to lock the door as there was no possessions of any value to be secured. Keeping the world out of his sanctuary, was the most important practice. His religious sanctity had to be preserved.
  Walking down the street, avoiding the cracks. Roots of trees pushing up areas of the tarmac, searching for nourishment, seeking life. Needing the energy to survive. It was all a fight. Tripping over, he swore at the ground, then feeling embarrassed he continued. Avoiding the people, eyes downcast so as to avoid  everyone. The solitary walk, fighting the urge to run and be done. Walking on and on, the sun baking his skin, turning it to leather. Finally he was done.

Sunday, 29 May 2011

Love Story 2

She was still lying beside me in the morning. I wondered how much more she would put up with? I got up and went to brush my teeth, I was sure I could feel even the bacteria in my mouth dying. I got back into bed.
No need to get up yet. She rolled over and asked 'Do you love me', I wanted to reply 'Of course not', instead I replied 'Of course'. She smiled, that sickly sweet smile of death she had. I marvelled at the way the light shined off her pale blue eyes, eyes you could drown in, big puppy eyes. She straddled me. I gave it my best shot, I could tell she was disappointed.
I don't know what she wanted or expected though. I hoped she would go out, all I wanted to do was sit in the bath and read. I knew if I started to run a bath she would want to get in beside me. I needed to be alone but she followed me everywhere, I was slowly suffocating in her web. I wanted to go to a bar and meet more interesting
women, that would just lead to a fight. I told her I was going for a walk, 'I'll come too it'll be nice and romantic'. 'It’s only to the shop'. 'That's ok'. This was going to be a long day.

Wednesday, 25 May 2011


Ted turns his computer off. Gets up from behind his desk. Walks to the door and leaves into the bright September sunshine. Goes to his car, a bashed and beaten silver Ford. He opens the boot. Rummaging about in the boot, he pulls out a jerry can and pours the contents over himself. Sitting down with a satisfied smile he lights a cigarette.

Saturday, 14 May 2011

To Be Truly Free


Friday, 6 May 2011

Love Story

She rolled over on the bed, pulling me closer. 'I love you' she said, 'Do you fuck, you just love the cock'. She laughed and started to pull me into her. I could feel her breath on my neck and it was everything I could do to stop myself being sick on her. 'I'm just your dirty little whore'. How could I disagree with that, it was probably the truest thing she had ever said. I started to pound her like I was trying to smash her head into the wall, to be true I probably was. I also just wanted this over as quickly as possible. She ran off to the toilet to clean herself and I used her white panties to clean myself up.
I knew she would want more so I had to go and find a drink so I wouldn't have to think or deal with her. 'You’re just a bastard, using me for sex'. 'And?', I couldn't be bothered with an argument but at the same time I couldn't help myself. I went over and grabbed her, pulling her to me with all my force, she struggled at first. I kissed her deeply and with as much passion as I could muster, I felt her go soft in my arms. We rolled around and were back on the bed, the springs protesting and trying to stab into my spine. This time she was on top and it was more slow and gentle, except for her calling me a bastard repeatedly. She went down and sucked off our co-mingled juices and then just wiped herself on the yellowed sheets. I think I was falling in
love with her.
The next morning I was woken by the smell of frying food. She brought some food to her bizarre idea of an Adonis. I sat there trying to eat but I couldn't bring myself to, I really needed a drink. I went to the window and threw the food out for my little friendly birds to eat. If the birds eat fried eggs does that make them cannibals? I had inadvertently turned my beautiful chorus birds into ravaging savages. I have created a tribe of killer song birds. Poetic and deadly.
We went for a walk. She was telling me how beautiful and great everything was. All I wanted to do was to throw her into the bushes and show her how wild animals did it. Never did it, I think I was too scared of people coming past and seeing two lowly degenerates fucking in the summer sun. Maybe they would have joined in or just sat there and masturbated. That could have been a fun story there, but I fucked up by
not going for it.
The minute we got back in the door she was pulling my fly down and started to blow me. Again I felt disgust at this dirty little whore but when she looked up at me I fell back in love with her deep and meaningful eyes. Was she my Juliet? Who knows because by the next day she was shacked up with another man saying how much she loved him and they were going to get married.