In the dance with the vampires I went along jogging with my ex partner to seek refreshments and good cheer when there is something unholy in there a youth who resembled a human beast who came along agog to join the clan I said sod off being a kindly vampire but he persisted and so I did not make anything of it and went along enjoying the wines and the dines when the die was cast someone else went for it. I had been eyeing him all night and someone else went for the kill how unkind how unnaturally stupid I went to have a cig to clear my head and felt the mornings rapes as it dawned on me that I was not only maladjusted but not correct in my attire. I went and slept the rest of the morning in something called lumber and everyone clammed in when I went for the hunt at the bar which sells nice easy iron tablets for some reason this is the ultimate pill for us the vampires.
Having ironed it out I went to see if there is anything else to do being short on lines and all that. I saw my good old friend having a swipe out as he now the new famed vampire and telling me so much he has done in the last century or so and he had met so many interesting people there I began to yawn and went to sleep as interesting people are so tiring.
You see it don’t you it is being in the dark all the time and in the night time I do not sleep which makes the day more tiring and the iron tablets are not the real thing which I crave but only when I go to the hospital to have some samples.
There is nothing I can do about it aging it is like any other disaster one deals with it there are no remedies and nothing to do but to grin and bear it all missing teeth and all. What did I do wrong but intent on robbing myself of myself I left a mark of distaste on the world this worthless world which uses children to make their point in. All the missing points are here when a man loves a woman and does not know she is ill. She hides the facts from him no matter what and he does not know she has a illness a serious illness and she does not state the obvious makes him feel for another woman in order to prevent his suffering and sorrow which might have happened and he hapless is wretched and says she did him wrong robbing him of his manhood. But what is more worth the time me or that sorrow there is nothing the matter with giving him what he so much desired the life he wanted with this other fond wife. I did everything to prevent being in their stage I just wanted his happiness what else does a woman want from her man?
The thing was I have this illness makes me not able to be good 100% the thing was would have died if he and me had wed because of what I had and he marrying his wife and being involved with that woman made me so healthy that now I am not the same fool I had been that my beneficial made up self is able to bear it now I am able to bear it all. That the barren years made me see straight that even if I had died a little living would not have hurt me even if I had risked all for the sake of our love it would not have unmade me. I would have been less bitter more able and in fact would have left a better legacy behind than now.
The legacy of this and the other is we are tied to time no matter. You see they did say the ways of the flesh are damned in the Bible you see. I mean no harm to anyone in the Bible for they are all dead and left this earth but what wisdoms did they leave behind? The little foreigner there always wins and today in this world not one foreigner wins at all.
Now their aristocratic maid has been treated so shabbily that she has been through the brutes and seen the daylight as the woman robbed of her virtue and madden by it. That her life now over and she is without sunshine anymore. That me behaving like that towards the man has unmanned her and made her clan ridiculous because they not into being useful at all not without the right cues and puts and that makes me the sadder creature because if I had died and left the field to her than she would have been the sole heir to his misery and moved him along to the next stage and then she would have had the whole game and match.
Children ring my door every day daily making a nuisance of them because their mothers said it was okay to be done to me and they were doing the right deed by it. Of course to steal something is bad but the doorbell must be rang because it is what I had done to their grandmothers when young and now past the age of caring this England has settled into something called spitefulness and the things which one calls nothing to do with care and attention towards the youth the young go cat wailing on their bikes and making the rounds of ringing the door and doing the dance like bikers folly which we call misbehaving but their mothers have told them to do such a thing in the first place.
Ten to one I will be in trouble for doing this sort of anti social aristocratic and anti society social satire but look at me there is not much of me left except fatness and bananas and the banality of middling age. But my life is one of many failures and the truth is that is what has made me into this angry woman.
It is a world where if one does something then it goes on till perpetuity like any other vampire age this is the age of the vampires. You see there is no giving there is only being fed. The well bred fed with cucumber and scones and ably assisted by cream makes the show a shallow place to behave in. Nothing likes the fangs out with the strawberry jams and all that; look the vampire age is over and done with since the 18th century is over and done with look we have done our bit and made the headlines again. It is against parental devices that you say that sort of thing we are now the vampire hunters.
I had always been interested in oddities and circus freaks are the most odd of the lot. In the circus the clowns have water thrown at them they spank each other and behave like real villains it is one hell of a show when the clown is thrown away and left to perish. The more they are unsympathetic the more we love to see them the clowns in my mind had always been like Punch and Judy and they had come to town. This began this is the show this is what it is to be a clown I always think and then it is a bit of a disappointment because they are always eager to please. Don’t drop your hat in such a nice way I want to shout at them but they bow and are polite and leave the stage just like a trained horse. For me circus clowns have always been something of a nightmare because it was a circus clown which brought the murders in the small town which housed grandmother. I was led astray when the circus came to town and was floating in the wildness of childhood gone babyhood when the clowns which I wanted to see were found to have no makeup.
A clown without make up made me shudder to such an extent that the evil clown went berserk with laughter and chased me outside. I had wanted to see the circus before they became a circus and that mattered to me when they were pretending it was meaningless because the actors in films did the same thing and when they were not actors they were mummies and daddies. The thing was took a wrong turning after that and witnessed the scene which was the murder of a imam a good holy man whose family were geniuses and whom he bedded for some reason. The wife took exception when he bedded her youngest son and his head was hacked off. But did not know did not realise they our neighbour and they had to murder each other when the circus had come to town. What an inconvenient time for all that and the circus shuts down. I mean they shut the circus down because of the murder?
“Yes it was too near the crime scene.”
“Never you mind.”
“I am not here.”
The thing was had to solve the murder in order that the circus could be open again and that meant going to the scene of the crime and finding everything out.
I do not know if I am making sense I seemed to have witnessed the murder twice. First on the astral plane of the child and secondly as this wise acre who had to find out in order that the circus could be opened again.
Telepathy discussion of the vampires were on their own time and went and wed the claws which settled into the right vibrations when the bloodletting was done with the vampire satisfied went madly outside and mated with the queen vampire. The head vampire went and said his piece his intelligent eyes the centre of his orbits and he sensed the likes of prey the moment the prey entered his zones and he got the better of them all. The zone now not safe because vampire hunters all round because they have matured and the things went berserk the vampires out in all numbers being hunted down and maddened by their claws being vaporised and evaporated and left to die in shame and humiliation because that is the only way to kill vampires to let them die in shame. Set an example to set the example because that is the only thing one can do.
The two worlds co exist do not they?
But what brought it home to reality was that I stepped into the head of the victim’s bloody gore in those days it was not cordoned off and the whole heads shape was visible to me. I instep in it the prints of my little foot inside the skull. I did not know why but this upset me more than anything before.
The official who was still there seeing me started to gently ease me out of the muddy in print and said words to the others about them letting a child near which he would never have done. Who was in charge he was and he should not have been doing two jobs when he obviously incompetent. But he did not see it like that.
They said nothing new to me.
My being on the scene was only later as the morning was after six. The murder had happened when the imam had been in the lazy stages of setting the gramophone on to witness the morning prayers which they said was sometimes in the morning at four or five o’clock. This made nonsense of the reality of praying but some said the pillar was too high off. He was in his 50’s and that meant he no longer agile and youthful and would have broken his neck.
No mechanics must be used when praying. The reality of being in such a high state and having to do with the incest did not occur to anyone as odd. He an imam he would do such a thing. He foolish not proper imam what was he then?
He had a gramophone and he not a proper one. When did he get ordained? He apparently only a minor cleric that is not nice to think that minor cleric had made a fool out of them.
Taxpayers paid them to say his prayers and it is a major scandal his wife does not say a word against him and her mind has left.
“Where did it go?”
“To the dry cleaners.”
I shook my head a most odd family they seem to be having a mother whose head goes out to the dry cleaners how did she get there inside the dry cleaners?
No one spoke to me at all with a reply.
We did not know what to say about such a thing it is folly to explain to us what that meant. So he was not right to sleep with his own children? He did no such thing there is no evidence they only went to his bed in their nudes.
They read everything in the nudes and are almost unpleasant young people.
Well that is what it meant nothing to do with reasonable doubt? It is sheer conjecture what they had to talk about as they all geniuses. Well what do geniuses talk about said I and mother said it is none of your business because they are great and exalted and know hash.
“We know morphine too.”
The scene of the crime was relayed on the newsreels and the child witnessing the scene was there alright it was I. But she was not there never was in the first place so many people have come and gone onto that particular spot that if she was such a sensitive child the erasures would never have harmed her.
“I stepped into his head I stepped into his mind.”
“Granny tells her share it with her makes her aware.”
“No child she will never understand.”
The thing was that night slept like a baby but the nightmares began in something like a fondness of being replayed the things were a disaster for me. Night after night as if the prayers that the imam had said were not over for me.
The folly was that I had opened the door and the latch had not been placed properly because grandma there is no door key you must have a door key. But the thing is we don’t have any money said grandma to us all. I need the door locked the door locked.
But the nightmares happen to me all the time for the next five years the constancy of them follow me to London when they have the same pattern a clown chasing me round and round as if the clown had many shapes and sizes and multiplied.
Splintered like glass the clown follows me everywhere.
Who loves me?
By the time we grow up we grow old, our innocence our defences our burnt bridges and our little foibles are such an endless delight to the senses that I despair of being able to do half the tasks I want to do. Families and loyalties, family separations and their little insights and slights misunderstandings and everything that makes us are them. When we watch as the families we knew are no longer so, when feelings have ceased and new bonds taken their places we are not sad but we love the old as well as the new.
We can’t abide harm coming to ours and us we must make and mend what there is so that we can go forward not back. So that our lives mean something so that our sacrifices and our tears meant something, where love is such a hopeless vast cave with many meanderings and turning where everything can be light and everything can bad.
Where characters are formed in each other and others can watch as we play tunes in the darkness of our lives, when we are mad when we are sane when we have everything when we have nothing. Where in the world is the time to do all that again? Where is the time to speak again? When lovers are big and when lovers are small all that matters is the love that is there. Nothing else is as important as that.
The joke is in your eye as if to spat out the wolves in her she states quite clearly why she is sat there telling her tale of woe and we are sat pleased to be hearing about it.
Facts are these when a wife is nothing the matter with us and the world defrosts brewing making the brew. We love them we need them when they get Gomorrah we leave them.
“My wife has that too.” They sat sharing this moment.
“Why does your wife have that too?” That is what was he did not mean to say such a thing a man of such mafia connections.
“She was sleepless in the night had too many for the ride.”
In that little cafe what tales had not been told without anyone realising that they had been told and retold and made much of.
He propositioned me then on the same day he got into this other woman and then they married.
“Nothing to do with you?”
“Did not notice him before all that.”
“What had happened?”
“He found his wife was into all that obscenities.”
“Marriage breeds respectful silences and seeing which a young man does not have who has a mane of hair.”
“The thing is what does it matter what disease one has?”
“The tea is colder than usual.”
“You spent the last hour talking that is why.”
“Shall we burst this place?”
They were laughing at him and he touched his wallet.
I thought he was going to offer them money but he had somehow the silence he requested, a moment of dignity.
“So marriage brought him back to reality?”
“Most marriages do.”!
“He is now sat at his house eating from the larder he cooks him meals and he eats.”
“My unfortunate male companion.”
“Well most peculiar story.”
“Not my usual is it?”
“I’ll have a half?”
“That is me and I will see you lot outside.”
“Bring another cup of tea won’t you make sure that it is hot.”
It depends if the tea is hot he will not fight them if it is cold he will destroy their faces.
More than ever mostly never.
Forever joking forever joking they say catch me forever in the maze of their own self into thoughts. The outsider does not comment on something as precious as an in group joke. It is considered in bad sense and there is nothing like bad taste to make one feel like an interloper. That we have boundaries and rules which are as much as possible there to protect against unwanted intrusions into a group or private discourse. They are there to joke with the likes of us who had nothing and might have something now.
Sorry to be butting in and there is no response at all because that is nothing to do with them to hear me is not their concerns even to say something means for them to swear at me or at the best to suggest I see someone.
I have lived now with these thoughts thrown at me like philosophies in the dark, there is a rule either one philosophises or get arrested for the mind plays tricks which is terminal to the conscience. Do I have a bad conscience?
Yes I do I have it bad I am as bad as anybody else if not worse. Where in the world does an ex insane person go? You see I have a sense of humour. It is diabolical on some people and I do it most of the time because I do not know how bad it is for them.
If not back to her cage forever in the cage like a simpleton, I am forever in the opening of the cave forever looking on forever seeing more than I should. When the maze hits us and I say what I don’t understand this is too complicated. Life is too strange life is too beautiful life is forever being in the light and in the dark at the same time.
Light and life are becoming extinct for me there I have said it ebbing away as if from the oceans waves coming through towards me and melting me in the melting pot of some disaster.
When did that idea come into my mind?
Just now as I sit in this little house which I have made and still there is grief pouring inside me.
When will the grieving finish?
Where in the world did I go wrong? Not conducting an orchestra is I? Not doing the rounds is I? The first round is on me the second round must be on someone else. That is how it should be life is a process of changing without this we would all go mad.
Change is to heal one change is to make it better what matters is change is painless as much as possible. Sister loves a bad man sister loves someone not worth it or even worse someone who is as a crook stealing from others because of his laziness, sister I forbid it but no she does not listen for she is blind to my remarks it is her heart that counts.
All in the mind she says all in the mind it is as if my being ex mad person has taken my wits and my insights and left me feeling like a baby a toddler not understanding the realities of situations. She won’t listen for that reason she does not believe what am saying for those very reasons she thinks am inventing she thinks am being abnormal; to think her lover might be bad.
Where is our childhood
When she was a child we had it all in a difficult path to most we did not have curtains we did not eat cake we ate bread and milk which someone gently kindly did for us. We did not have much but what we had we did well with.
We were still proud and good with the hands we did a great deal of toast breads and Fallings and did away with the romance of the bedsit and the dogma which is poverty.
Most days I babysat and there is this lush atmosphere as I take the kids out and they have a scream in their high chairs but mostly I am learning how to read and write as I am behind. And have a condition called dyslexia and that does not make me stupid but I have to try harder to catch on.
The thing is life is about being diabolical without realising how one is. One is mostly unkind to ones fellow creatures and it takes away the spleen from the selfish designs one has to matter less as life takes away from oneself ones soul.
Sisters would do tricks like wiggle-wiggle with a rope and then they would juggle with the apples and the oranges and they would catch it and eat.
What mattered to them was that they would have something to catch to and this mattered to their growing bodies. Maturing like madness and their own snobby selves their clothes hand me downs which ma knit which looked pathetic on them because with the bread and the chocolate they looked like poverty incarnate and less than elegance itself.
I would wash up and then make more tea and it was never enough cutleries to feed the lot of us and mummy would come from a day’s work and ask if there were any more nappies to be done and I would say yes. She would spend the next four hours washing nappies and the stench was such a sure sign of fatigue she hated washing the nappies.
That life is about giving oneself over to the beasts within and leaving the innocence of childhood. Where is the childhood today when children are depicted as beasts when they have no choice but to grow into beasts when we are mistreated abused and made into tantalising objects. Where Mummy is not the key what matters is mummy is out.
Mummy had the bath with this woman and she was never the same again.
What matters is the daddy said things to mummy and mummy went out to work. He is now coming during the weekends to babysit and make amends and is doing okay washing his own clothes.
Daddy said mummy was a common woman and he did not think she good enough for him.
So mummy went to her brother and had him cemented into the relationship.
Why did it happen because mummy was in the right and daddy said she in the wrong and they never figured out me? There I am left on the shelf to sort myself out and everyone is giving me advice about this and how to do that but mummy does not bother to find out.
Being out at work and in the right or the wrong and there is simply no time at all because now mummy is the boss the cook and the cleaner and all that and there is a shag who gives her on every night some relief.
But me I am now over the moon to find she is happier than me.
I envy mummy and daddy for being so much happier than me.
But mummy has lost a leg and daddy now is dead.
That is final is it not?
They have sorted their own lives and made themselves that much better off and it does not mean anything that they were once in love a couple and this and the other. I mean now to find my own solutions and resolve and make this world a better place for all the little people like myself.
Then there is the school if someone like myself can blow it up it would benefit everyone in the end it is a good idea but the thing is not to do such a bad deed. Even my friends who have lives and loves and know what to do say it is wrong and like robbery or something. But there is nobody to ask the question is it worse to blow up the school or steal a bread pudding?
I tried asking mummy about the whole thing but she did not say a word she was sleeping.
What does one do I tossed a coin?
Shorty here it is.
He is mine and I am keeping him even if he is not as good looking nor as attentive he is a part of me he is mine and keeps out of my life. I am doing all I can to stay in your life I am doing my duty. Is it a part exchange I ask?
This is it I say you can’t stand me being mad that is why you are not listening to me you are as much a victim as I. But she won’t listen to me because I am a patient at an insane asylum she talks small talk looks at her watch and leaves me bereft as if she is no longer a visitor but an accountant measuring the accounts doing the arithmetic making plans which we are excluded but only included because of our ownership the property we own.
She leaves me angry with myself how am I going to cope with all this? What right do I have to impinge on her life? I sit huddled up in a corner as we daze over the issues what is going to happen to us? We don’t care to say this out loud we speak as if we are strangers having a strange conversation as if it would go to eternity.
We don’t even laugh anymore but we pretend to. Our teeth are on edge as we spit out the words in animosities that lie buried deep. Partners are such an ordeal I say to myself they make fools of us all.
The narrow corridor is such that I can’t glimpse out, I am trapped in the work I am trapped in the lives I lead I am in turmoil as if a young girl. When life gets hot one has to dip and dive into the oceans to cool down.
I don’t want to cool down now it is as if I have found something so deep that it almost answers my call. All the lives I’ve seen tormented and twisted and now at 52 a something stirring deep inside of me. What is it I don’t know nor do not care?
When situation is dire one has to have the remedy. I feel like saying this joke is obscene this joke on me where is the life I thought I lost? It was there waiting to be and all I had to do was to reach for it this life of mine take it and cast it out of existence if it is too many if it is too much.
The forest of our minds is such a thought as if the marriage is on the rocks and the forest gets in the way of untrammelled life. To be free is all that one wants to be in bondage is humiliating. I can’t see this thing working it is such an impossible and improbably situation romantic love is not like other kinds it is a kind that takes you into zones travelled but not travelled. It is as if you gain insights and intuitions into what makes creation. I travelled light all my life and now this joke on me this obscene joke at my age too.
This coarse existence which has become something extraordinarily beautiful this world of point of views to change and be changed. When will all change away from riots away from everything but the way is to mend life to be in the way of some disaster to avoid the tragedy of existence as much as possible that is all one can do. To avoid as much pain as possible so that life can go on that life can be gained and not lost in the toss up of existence.
This life is an obscene joke; it is filled with monsters and demons without the morals of a cat. A cat should not have morals or should the cat have morals? We displaced people in the cafes of our minds, out of our minds without the fibre and the discipline that goes with running our lives. Ruined lives without membership to community expelled cast out. We the creatures of the mind without any back bone without this thing that is the way of conscious existence.
We exist to eat and fornicate. Where is the mind where is the conscious of the mind, the conscience of the soul has deserted society. We believe in the enmity of the enemy but sometimes our enemies are not far off, they live in the palaces of our minds without this they can’t exist. The prostitutes the pimps they all feed off the palaces.
The best minds have palaces in them not in the cages they exist in but in the untrammelled treadmills of our imaginations. Our imaginings are what makes us human, without this thing called imagination we are trapped in our bodies can’t go anywhere, can’t take that narrow existence. See what horses see lead on without a rider and we find nothing but trouble.
Our troubled souls are there all to view. We are the windows of our thoughts and riders try to read us, we become as blank as a page as stupid as an unread book, glimpsed into the daydreams of our lives. Our existence is to see it through to see what happens next to be the next to not to be the next. What happens with the next?
When we find the rider we prefer to go rider less.
This is not my story
They might even be justified to kill me which am what they do as a last resort. They do not wish to kill a woman who is mad or make a skivvy. They come and sat it out because I had no family anybody of my own and they come and sit it out because that is how it is within the Turkish community they come and sit with the victim until the victim has nothing of their own time.
It is one of this thing no it is when there is a match and the fool says no to that match when the husband to be comes with the gang and sits it out with the one who has said so. Well if you can sit me out then you can have the girl if not the girl belongs to the gang.
Then when the girl becomes the wife they wolf it down and spit it out there is nothing left of her but bikini tops and endless foolish laughs and then tears because that matter which mattered has left her and he is now bored with the fool he has indoors because it is not affection but affectations which he has with her and he had always thought she nothing of the sort but some Miss who was a mistake.
But in the throes of the courtship it is all out open warfare with the whole of the gang within their rights to have her for him.
Sorry what is the matter with that?
It matters because to kill someone who says no to that match and try not to reason with the poor soul is not the right thing to do. To kill murder is bad it is a criminal offence it is also punishable if caught it is jail sentence if not caught it is a scar within the community.
When she is half mad they want to be reasonable for they are reasonable people with civilised intentions and good will to all. But this woman is very stubborn to them they don’t know what to do sometimes she makes them mad. However one has to admire courage when they see it. However she is getting too big for her boots and she is causing too many troubles and delays and it is getting dangerous to business.
The riots have caused good will to blow out of the window because it is affecting business. It is not making them money and it is causing concern amongst the big people but they have to enjoy what they have they have to live then they can settle to making money again.
We must all breed macho males to further ourselves to eternal bliss of images which are like Buddha as this is what matters because art does not mean anything nothing means much that we breed in our own images.
King Kong did it better.
No he did not.
This source that we have are the kids, the slaves the trades the income is small now because the rioting and looting has not given the right amount of income. We need to set more people onto the scene then it will surely be like Africa.
We are the most corrupt of our age of our lives we are so corrupt we induce things to happen in order to gain by it. Look if the leg is amputated it can cost the injuries some money so we do induce relief.
When the services are not working when the wary services are always not working when the nursing staff have to travel round the whole hospital in order to get to the ward and it is always we have to talk on the way. It must cost less to have the nurses in one ward should it not?
Mother’s ill health cost me.
They took my life from me because mum had to be spared death and that induced psychosis and madden me. Take something from one life in order that the other can get then leave her to rot.
What do carers do when they are left with nothing?
Patience is a virtue when looking caring is the reality of existence sings and the song of praise is within your soul.
Who else wants to sing with me?
I am mirrored and all my actions are repeated by her his wife now makes such huge jokes about me. She copiously copies me and mimics the actions which settles me into some pertness and makes me I. What one does with the boyfriend is none of that woman’s business what she does with my soul is my own. What is the difference between the two? I do not know there are no simple answers she seemed to be alive and well without him but once the name is taken from her she goes haywire. So what is she into is his name so he gave her his name and now she is cradling it without a bone. I think she likes that better than having him around.
I bought three mirrors the other day and they all looked like brand new and not tarnished at all. I spent time thinking where to place them and realised did not know what to do with them at all. Surprised that I could not live with the mirrors in fact felt as if the mirrors were inside my soul like spitfires or something.
The thing was the mirrors felt like they were intrusive into my vision from the past something had began to stir like it had come down to me in sharp-sharp pain. It was as if shrapnel as if the disease from the past which had seen the grave came with the oval shape and spent me. I was forever doomed inside my shell and now somehow it had stirred memories which should have never have returned.
They do it with mirrors when they do it with mirrors the mirror images in the mirror just look into the mirror and you might find the stance the grace of your own true self. This is not a circus act I am not a clown this is my own- begging the question when did you come in?
Beg the pardon but when did I come in was last year when the clouds said pointing to the elevator of this disgraceful institute saying I am not a genuine person without responsibilities. Try saying that to someone who does nothing but have responsibilities.
But you did not get any money for it?
He just sat as if in a tavern the man who was doing a favour to some other bastard who wanted this and the other from the brat.
“We figured out what your problem is.”
“Hell man what is it with you ate so fast it caught us by surprise.”
The thing was did not want to stay another minute within that place with men who were up to no good.
“But you never worked in your life did you?”
“Well Mr to think what men have made of the female revolution is to see them in their sty what to do with the rights of women who do not have the wit the will or the inclination to find many ways to earn livelihoods or the living wage.”
“Why we are gob smocked.”
“That man is making eyes at me.”
“If I see him making eyes at you I will throw the son of a bitch out.” Said the thoughtful man beside whom I sat most of the night.
I thought how lonely I had been before he had come and held my peace.
Living wages does not count when the woman is losing the other leg and a mad husband is going to play football with her. I said to the man in front of the bar as he in the tavern drowning within his teaspoon.
There is nothing the matter with him is there?
No he just is the tenant let out by his wife and she lets him out too many times for my liking.
They thought a teenager could deal with that a young person could deal with all that?
I was that young teenager and to think that now mostly odd one out.
That madder than ever have no place amongst the equals of this thinking generation who groomed to appear whenever there is a scandal a sex change and a abortion.
We must abort the baby as soon as possible said the son of a girl who thought she would make it to the golden cage of the cages which houses many birds who wanted to fly and become the artist only to become some spouse. Why cannot we be both I told myself when the man from the tavern said he thought he did not want bread pudding which I had made especially for him. No sugar added as I a diabetic.
“Be reasonable be so much more reasonable what could a shag do with such anger?”
Rejected thrown outside from society the thing is became a beast.
In the laboratory with them rats that mate and plunder we have come amongst us the scurvy of our generation what do women do?
Look they do not clean house do not look after children they do not think alike they are here there at some hotel preening themselves on their dreams. So today women just dream?
These are extra jobs which they do when and afterwards.
Si what do they do?
That is what they matter to do they also marry them royals and have the lineage secure.
But not everyone makes it on time and there is a gap in the throne issues of what to make themselves afterwards. But you see when one goes to the pound shop one sometimes buys cheap stuff it is only at expensive stores which one cannot afford to go into that they have time for the customers try treading to the pound shop and there is an almighty queue and that is the truth. I meant to get cat food but got dog food should the wise cat be any the wiser?
Give generously to the charities because charity begins at home.
Mirror-Mirror on the wall
Which country is laughing the most? Because we now have the pudding running for the world leadership; he has been found out to be inside the Whitehouse. His top dogs there we are placed in some acrimony like a marriage of inconvenience what to do and how to get rid of the damning evidence in there. We are not guilty at all none of us are shamefaced nothing to do with us at all.
Look we did not vote for this guy who got in there without any votes at all it is not our fault.
The brilliance of some journalists who thought their careers were began because he got in with the right writing material in honour of our most royal commander in chief. The thing is when the thoughts go out for them when we do not say what we feel or think. Look I did it for the memories it is like winning a prize or something.
Madam keep your shirt on.
The thing was mostly the madams have their shirt off.
We did not want them running for office and they took centre stage. Look it is with loathing did we make a mistake?
Common errors do happen.
This is when one marries the wrong woman by mistake and spends the rest of one’s life wandering from pillar to post. Then there is the mistaken identity that goes in there and what has happened to my sleepless nights?
Love is a disease these days because we do not get enough sleep are jet lagged and have nowhere to pay our respects to. Look all them people chasing the clouds must have reasonably expected or suspected that somehow they had made a mistake?
We knew we had made mistakes but the thing was it is a legit vote and we did want to earn our bread because not being fools we do not like to live at home on the dole and making our children victims.
That is what is happening round the world.
We believe in this world we believe in the right we believe in fairness we believe in the fight we behave according to the dictates of our conscience? Do you mean ethics? What is wrong what is right about all this is everyone on the make they think they are like clothes pegs and that they can move around inside their glossy smiles and that makes it okay.
“Disgusting is it not?”
“No it was a misunderstanding.”
“We voted because he promised us things.”
“Well most seducers promise the world to everyone too.”
“Does it make everyone a star?”
No it was not they thought that he looked like someone which is a American must be an American from that country too.
“He did not was not a politician he was from somewhere where he had to board a helicopter to escape.”
“From a crowd of lynch mob.”
“He had destroyed a supermarket when the people needed a golf course like a pain in the neck.”
Well it turned out he was nothing of the sort he came from some outlandish country.
What happiness to know he did not explain it to us from the beginning that he had kindness mostly Russian. He did not even want to make a note about it the thing was he thought he knew how to do it right and better. Well he did.
One tosses and turns what to do with today’s socialite people who do nothing but make such a mistakes. Look the thing is when a man of over the age limitations has pornography in his office does it matter when he has nothing to place it into?
He should never have got them into parliament.
Some have urine passed through the creak which has royalty what does it matter to them that it drips to their heads? Baptism yes that is the truth of the matter.
So we are now married in kind to this beastly things going on in the world because most of the journalism today is about the same things. We do not have many reporters going and doing research it took them four years to find out that Putin is the richest man alive.
I mean why?
Vampires in my soul the thing is beneath the hollow sounds of my pit-falls the stomach which says eat and eat again the blood of others has made me what I am. I am the full blown last vampire the last in line because having mated with the relatives of all their fours they have the purity of the line.
There are no good vampires around they have the badness contained they do not have the right attitudes they have the wronged attitudes how I became the vampire all the time it is never their own fault the same goes with me.
The bloody banks are now eroded in this world the bloody banks have been done for. The insular the despicable the particular have become the chaos which says I am done for. The last stand of the vampire is I.
All you had to do was look at his bank statements.
But the doubts are that it takes time to cross the border and to find the ding dog and then the way forward is bad. Look if one worked in a bank one could. Anyway the foolish thing is when there is not enough psychics in the world to find such material otherwise the folly of this world are immense.
One could mistake a wife for a hat or something and then there would be trouble.
To this point again I return why does his wife come flaunting herself at me I am not the right woman for her at all.
No arguments and to see a woman flaunting herself outside when she does not have a man is a totally against the principles I live by. She seems to be doing ok living within her means and going about without a man.
She has rejected me I am sorry to say that it does not look good for her. I will make her bend to my will. Her will is to leave all her money to charity than I will take over that charity. If she works I’ll take over the work place if she goes on holiday I’ll spoil her stay.
If she has to a dog destroy the dog. Eat her up and spit her into the fire then she will be forever struggling to come to terms with what she has lost. My charms are such I am a charming cultured man I know the rites of passage. I know the rules that command my life.
Money and sex it is against the decency of manhood that this woman has threatened to chop off my manhood. I was planning a good rape and she threatened to chop it off. It is indecent it is against human nature that she does not have sex and she is lesbian or what is she? I don’t understand what she is what she wants I offered her marriage and what she do? Turn me down. I offered to educate her nephews and what she do?
Turn me into an ass. I offered her first wife position she chose to not look at the prospect I offered civilised behaviour what she do? Said I was a tourist guide. She doesn’t seem to understand me, she doesn’t know that a man can take so much, that he can understand for many years then something will snap.
I am sat in the front of the whole street being judged as if to die or live and that man who is that one who is shagging me has a infatuation for his Iranian friend. Look honey when a man has a affection for another man it does not mean anything at all. Does it not? No it is just affection and should I be suckling him for that reason and milking his tits then? His mother was far more important to him than I ever have been and for the past year or so he has wanted to elope with someone else. You see from suckling his breasts there is a moment I want to end it there and then.
“It is crazy is it not?”
“Can it be suckling my breasts the most sensitive part of me turns you off?”
“There is too much of your damn breasts.”
It is a sad situation that a man can only live one life it would have been better if a man had several lives than he could live them all at once. I am a patient man I have learnt to feel sorrow and care for this woman.
I am not an unreasonably unattractive man I fear for her for she is strong for me it is that one of the man would have raped her first then the other then I would have bonked her all night. To get rid of the evidence we would have done something like make her disappear. It is the rule that the strong eat the weak it is unreasonable of her to say she would cut off my pride.
My wives have not complained about this, they know that I have to have what I want and if they had complained, I would have sent them to their village and they would have had no money. The children of these relationships stay with me I am master of these women and this is my price total obedience.
What needs to be learnt if it matters anymore if it will matter is who loves me? The world against me. Who loves me? No answer the brick walls stared the bridge is escalating with the sound of trains, the locomotive stops at a standstill until it moves like a graceful animal. I do not want to listen anymore, I am different.
My powers are both coming and deserting me there is too much of me in them there is this brain activity which burns myself and I need to burn less.
Train and me are catching up on the people as they pass through my vision.
All of them coming through my vision and my psychic powers are growing as the train is increasing speed.
Then the train smokes.
I am not aware how it has began to smoke there is a momentary silence as someone rings somebody and says we are smoking on the train the train has caught fire.
There is somehow this moment when everything is dry and like timber and they are all speaking at the same time.
“It was not I.”
“But so many witches on the train meant they are all to blame.”
We move onwards and go to the tracks as we follow the guard.
I move fastest in case someone speaks and sets the whole thing on fire. Their words are like sparks that might fly.
I am out of there in no time.
They can do with the tracks what they care to do.
I am out of the tracks I feel like a cup of tea would do the trick.
Witches brew and all that.
What it meant
That is the reason everybody hates me. In the way of everyone’s happiness, disappear just go we’ll be ok, better off without you. Problems will be solved the world will be a better place without you. The world will cease aching it will be hanky dory. Everybody will cease being unhappy.
How life is one of beings
Why? Why? Be reasonable this animal bestial animal is cornered, about to ignite. Destiny is about to toss me. I’ll speak no more about this. My thoughts will be hidden in a strange land with strangers so that you Turkish family will say that is the same as everybody else.
Time is a great healer the heals on my toes are the very much things which unsettle me. Look you are a woman to be kept down in the kitchen while he and I elope to the heights. Said his wife his ex wife to me when she had him forever.
I simmered in the kitchen, the perfect Cinderella. What is cruelty I know tell me about it and I’ll weave a thousand tales more gruesome than anyone can imagine. This cruelty and spleen is a waste of everybody’s time. I’m doing the orders, 1...2...3...4 have to continue giving all this otherwise hell will descend on the house with its lovely people.
Human nature does not change it only floats inside and curves in another manner.
Library book overdue this makes me tense left the bacon in the pan, now oily and couldn’t deal with the eggs. 17 years old world on shoulders. Not because of the fine because did not know how to bring up sisters or self. She came and sat in there making sure she not belong there and making me awkward, the odd thing was I belong in there and she does not. That is the whole point she a lady and I am not.
The fairy tale romance blossoms and all her friends adore her.
How to look after the parents? In the kitchen with mouths tongues everybody leering at me. The eggs are runny.
“Made me jump”
Sisters are hungry. Position is servitude. What rights do I have? None. Because all this is not official. I am the novelty the little I know have forgotten. Brain seems to have gone.
Gates open, gates open, gates open. Rush into the darkness expelled breath wrong turning gates open such a wrong turning as stood in front of the stove cooking bacon. Nowhere to breath there is nothing to breath into I am alone now. That we no longer make sense to one another he does not understand there is strain in his voice his voice is no longer normal he is no longer at ease he wants to go keeps looking at his watch.
But there is no exit for me the likes of me there is no escape.
But there is no exit no entirety no exit no entry and even if the gates are open there is nothing but being stuck in it, like in a sand pit. Putting you on hold on hold forever putting you on hold forever more until all your juices run out until you become a crow. No exit no entry. Put you there we won’t get you out.
Till death do us part and putting you on hold- But why? Why because we hate you- You caused everything to happen and I’ll say this because you were born and until you are unborn no exit. No existence just this slavery a shadow you are now on hold with voices as guides to torment and kill you.
“I am putting you aside so that you can calm yourself.”
“I am a servant is that why?”
“A wife is more than a servant and you will not do.”
“Of course not.”
Putting you on hold. No gate crashers will be allowed. Excuse me, mind yourself excuse me mind yourselves excuse mind yourselves. Mind the gap, mind it well. Existence mind the gap. Excuse me mind yourselves is it dangerous what you are doing?
Without motive, no one minds me. I throttle the years; I am gathering strings and arrows. A string to tell that towers have passed, towers of tempers. I let myself, (Library book is not returned) misjudged human nature. Energise the way we live if there is no love then we become stoics. I bleach.
Went downstairs into the basement felt it there that sense of doom when looked bright faces looking down at me. Imagination everyone humouring me? Throttle the years with bare hands. The exit is there they would be deceased is here. The way is blocked. By stones and wood and writers block.
No one notices how inhuman society is, the society of gluttons getting fat on those machines these feed society’s sense of importance. Think evolution has stopped. All these thoughts and more lost.
Trash extinct, no more coco for others want it. None for people like me. I am going to do something that is extraordinary but what I’ve not figured out. Three dishwashers none made it, three dishwashers none made it.
Three losers one made two winners one made a loser. Sisters go to University they have to they just have to. Otherwise something bad might happen to them. Something terribly bad. Two dishes spent crying over and none to wipe it dry. None to make it better none to see it with me alone and unwanted like a broken plate, spirit not broken spirit still there.
Humours gone out of the situation there is no life after extinction. What must a woman do whose uneducated? Dyslexic? Who wants to be a writer? Can’t read can’t read I seem not to be able to absorb what I read.
“Do not worry yourself be happy.”
“I am not worried I am just a failure.”
“A failure is an example to us all.”
“I do not want to be such a example.”
There are such a lot to do, see to the plates to the work and to do all this while the drone goes is next to impossible. The person in my head drones all day like he was siren like there is vicious humour in my being.
What matters is I can’t read I can’t think go underground. There is satisfaction in seeing everything on the unconscious. It is pleasing to him that there is no one there no one at all but I am there seeing to it being in the submerged sea I am the unconscious I am the me. There is pleasure to see and not be seen. I am invisible I am invisible.
I want to become a She devil so that I can become invincible.
I am the me that was that never was. There is pleasure as if he is prancing being sympathetic and liking the state I am in. The state I am in is between death and life as if I am feeling nothing numbing me making me sleep as if I am a sleep walker.
I am no longer alone in this I feel nothing but don’t look back there is nothing there to see. I am seeing through no one notices I exist. Fear grips my talons I am vulture like as my talons ache. I do not scratch out I do not cry out he leaves me alone.
I exist to wash dishes I exist to exist. Murder? No it will not go that far there are other ways to kill there are other ways to torture. He talks as if I am a doll and he is sympathising with this thing he created he is sympathising with this doll that exists to exist. He does not know it but he is in love with his doll.
I am no longer important to him matters rest between us and I leave it alone there is not much she does not know about me and him and he is always asking how I am. But then he does not wait for the answer.
I see that there is nothing to do but to remain in my state there is nobody to complain to nothing to complain of. What matters is that I eat and drink and exist. I take my pills and hope not to die before I see myself out of this.
What matters is there is the unconscious like the sea in my body willing me to do this in my dreams I dream of other places but in my daily life there is only this existing to exist. My life is not over I say silently to myself I must survive be patient I must survive I must survive to exist to be myself I must be surviving.
I grow layers of fat to protect myself from him. He is so amused you see to see these things I have he wants to know if they are wings. I say they are my own fat and I don’t see what to do to get rid of them.
I become a shade whiter every time he bothers to turn up.
That we may live alone and not be happy on the ten Pounds something living wage. Where my wages is said the artist where is the wages of my sins said the prostitute and where are my dole money said the man who cannot work. Who are the people living on minimum wages and all the aristocrats going over to see how the other half lives? We do not take time off to see how the rich live when we go to their homes in the exchanges which the BBC arranges. Look most people cannot build a home in a few hours. Sixty minutes of makeover does not even cover my make up hour and bath time so what are they talking about?
“We were most surprised that it took four years of day and night to build this magnificent house and in the end the builder sent us away in order to get things done.”
“What you lot not into building works?”
“The thing was we were but we got it wrong.”
“Cost us ten thousand extra money.”
“What a good thing you went on holiday then.”
“When did you get the spending money for the holiday?”
“We feel so much better for the holiday but not so for the ten grand.”
“What does it make you do to have spent so much time designing this house?”
“It is everything we wanted and more.”
“Does it take training to build?”
“Of course we found out the hard way because we trained on the job and if we were to be allowing ourselves near a derelict house again we would never do it.”
“It is hard work.”
“Well it is normal to fear work when we are all work shy these days.”
“So many people in their jobs doing their own things.”
“We must all get to the knotty gritty of it all.”
“Yes of course otherwise the world is not a good place when people don’t work.”
“Like a clock not working like a thing not working people not working at all makes one nervous.”
“One does not know where they are not working.”
“That is why building day centres job centres and all institutions make them more able to be located.”
“No time for dreading the inevitable consequences of the not working.”
“People need work even if they make a mess out this world because we learn through our mistakes.”
“But some people don’t.”
“That is when we change our names to something else.”
“Not to be recognised?”
“Ouch you got me there.”
“Who were you in your previous?”
“I murdered my mother.”
“Oh that is why you did not get that job?”
Where is this happening?
Round the world in the years to come and go and make haste and mate with the wives of the wives and then make behaviours so mad.
In England in London town there is the train of thoughts that go round and round tumbling down as if the world is my stage. I play all the roles and I am expert at everyone of these roles. I am the villain the heroine the male leading role and the female leading role.
I am the little I know and the little I don’t know. There is no one like it to see that I inflict pain yet I am not shameless I feel shame all the time because I am the victim without the right to speech. I feel no remorse about being the victim for it is better to be a silent victim than to be a villain. However the villain is the head piece in my head and the rights of the person is infringed but when you can’t see who’s the villain you are destitute and unreasonable.
Like anybody I know I know nothing but feeling low and tired the victim’s cry in my head gets distant and mellifluence takes its place. The sound of the world as it drums into the soil as villains take the earth in their stride and strike a blow to common sense.
Society as if their terrible vengeance is wreck on me as if I am the cause of them being black, being hard up. As if I in my wisdom created an imperfect world and set them in their cages to torment them with their dislikes and their greed. Their hatred of this thing, that I am this soul searching destruction.
Their peace is such that they’ve taken the path and rampaged through England. Rampaging set me destitute of reason trying to figure out the situation. This thing that they are criminal brains can’t seem to suffer.
I am the slain the slayer the villain of the piece the audience and then this folly which someone has created.
Without usefulness without anything but my brain.
Then because I have read two papers at the same time or have taken two newspapers at the same time they place me on section 3. You see it is that way aside there is not much to make an effort with. I am now the lasting shame of the clan instead of being the leader.
They can’t seem to prod they can’t seem to see anyone else’s point of view but their own. What are these people but set on drugs, barons taking too much ecstasy and being in their world the owners of me. I let them down they own me and they shall take what is theirs they paid a little amount they want the lot.
I am in the wrong place at the wrong time. Near sunlight away from trees and without any shades;
they are the traffickers I’ve seem to have known but never consciously seen. They reason differently than others they have their point of view. One it is unseemly for a woman to be virtuous when there is such good sex about.
Two it is the destiny of women to be slaves to men, even brilliant women must see to serve them and their needs. To see a woman occupied in literature and art is like seeing a monkey plays a flute. It can be done but what does a woman know?
What can she do to these kings of barons with their ecstasy and their timeless patience as they gobble the world? Their world is full of people who think as they do. Their world is a slave trade where roots and origins have a place they’ve taken their little problems and come to England to set it on fire.
Then the women the wives become males and they are now in the pursuit trade they traverse the lands to seek me out to find me out and they don’t only try to molest but try to con me out of myself.
They spit at woman like me because they seem to see no one but some kind of threat to themselves and their manhood. They have been chasing me since I was ten and I am sick to death of them am going to set them traps so that I can set myself free. I am the only one who can do so. It is my last stand against these people I must be patient I must not make a single mistake because if I do I’ll be a slave or skivvy or both.
They inject me with some hope that somehow someday something good might happen to me to make me break my chains of this trade off.
To make the men unhappy and make the wives happy.
That is because women should be happiest.
Except woman like me.
A woman who loves a man is such a sure disaster for the common good which is happening round the world.
“Why what is happening round the world”?
“How does one know what is happening round the world except it is bringing a lot of hope to everyone and there is a lot of thigh snapping birthing and all that”?
“That is always been the truth?”
Well the thing is that this is mostly done by the gay community and not the straight the straight community are told not to breed and to work and the gay community is told to breed add to their lot and they are given blessings encouragements and all that.
Hopelessly involved in his story he did not notice the sneers. “Kindly sit still while I do you in”.
“It is not true?”
“Kindly make me sit smarter here I want to look richer than the rich.”
But that is what it is.
“My mummy sat it out all night and day working her fingers to the bone trying to make Ati rich again.”
“Leave it to me.”
Her husband said it I have left it to you my dear. Even when he died he left his estates to Ati he left everything to her.
A woman or a man now cannot do certain things. In the old days he could do a great many things and deeds. A vampire without a sole of discretion has nothing in front of him but the steak.
A woman does not clean the house toilets or the other thing when on duty which the new man must know. When a woman modelling is working don’t infringe on her dreams.
When the beastly woman is topless drunk and making advances possible fuck the heck and go home and listen to some good thoughts on the radio.
Look what matters is the freedom of the women to be moving and doing their work which is talking to other women and doing fuck all.
Because this is the new way forward.
I am sorry did not know that when the invitation came to a hotel room it meant not business but fucking. I was a naive girl and did not mate easily then. I had nothing on offer but the good clothes on my back. It is sad is it not?
Look a child dies of the cold because of a mother going to work at 7 o’clock and someone says we should not dare be indoors doing the work and this nagging feeling of the doomed failures which we all have become.
Because we do not want to accept anything but the pleasantness the good life the things which matter are not that we have a something to do but what should we not do. The thing I don’t mean to be rude to anyone at all but when a child is left outside to die from the cold and the mother is working with the good uncle it makes me cold too.
That we should never under rate the follies which we all have become the god spells the great lights we must have and to matter less at the indoors which is where we used to be and now the indoors is the great outdoors and we do want it to be safe and sorry safe as houses but when the devil is everywhere in ourselves as well as where we are what do the innocent the naive the little brats who come out of that hole have to look forward to but to inane literature about Satanism and all that and to make matters worse we have lost our self respects in this perjury of purgatory of selfish self indulgent bad behaviour.
“Mother let me in.”
“I am out.”
This is not affection this is called looking at someone which someone else has discarded and made into this unclean cloth.
Why what is the reason for such a thing what was his folly what made him that way his social position his duty his destiny and his unreasonable jealousy that there was something going on but he did not know what until he did he would not touch me he would not even soil his hands on me.
His life time of pain began that way and my painful existence was consumed by seeing his happiness or pretend happiness I did not mind him anymore he was someone else’s and that was what washed him out. His consumption washed him out? His consuming her made him someone less if not totally worst off than before as if he did not eat wholesome food all the time as if his insides had began to rot.
Midas touch developed goldstones.
Skirts and dragons
Oh I say what a wicked man you are what a masterful wicked man. You don’t understand he says I am always powerful I am the most powerful man there is I know all the grand people. It is such a shame you did not want to know me when you were young.
You see he had nothing of the sort. Them dames had the power and he had not much aside from himself. I would have protected him if he had not flown away.
Youth is important isn’t it I say? Oh yes he says youth and dress code is everything society is important people are interesting as long as they dress decently. I hate badly turned out girls without make up. Glossy hair and makeup I hated doing make up did not have a knack for it and his new woman had the right hair toner and all that mattered to him back then. He married and quite happy
Boiled fruit and fluid and not okay at all.
I hate the very sight of him with her and they do not even think to figure it out. Under the table they marry in haste when outside I can feel them doing it in the whole of the world they are doing it. I can feel them hungry for each other I can feel them I can feel them and I snap.
You know you won’t look half decent if you bought a designer dress with that money you are hording. Oh I say it won’t fit me. It might if you had it made to your size. He said looking into my mind with that glee he has had ever since I have got fat. I sense his confusion and act confused I can feel he is satisfied.
How civilisation is not enough when we forget that we matter to each other not from the dress codes or even what we say but how we inflict each other upon each other like pangs of guilt he felt and now the pangs of self satisfaction I feel.
Like the escalation of each other into the violations of the other pain it is pain.
He says well I have to be off to my friends see you in two three hours when I am able to enter the kingdom of heaven with a girl half your age. He pats me on the check I say ok. You know you haven’t told me off it is a good sign but I suppose you haven’t even spoken up for a while. Why don’t you buy yourself that dress? I can’t afford to.
“Without a good dress I have to take someone else to the dance to the dinner parties and all that sorry.”
A sorry spectacle for love when I a dish washer had to leave it aside and leave it leapt into the flames of the fallacies of make believe.
“Love dines alone.”
“Wrath eats love and life ebbs from one.”
“The world is in there inside you not in the dress.”
“Without the dress that is never the truth it was not only the clothes on your back it was the sorry spectre of your incestuous family.”
“She had the same kind.”!
“But knew how to hide it”
I answer he seems satisfied but has to prod, you can you work hard don’t you I work hard and I play hard it is useless what I feel has ended but it doesn’t mean we can’t you know have fun together like we used too? Did we? I ask. Didn’t we? I don’t remember I answer it is as if my memory is going it is as if I can’t remember anything remotely connected with the past.
I thought you wanted to remember to write about everything which no one will publish because you can’t do grammar. And he laughs and he laughs as if his aching sides won’t bend much longer.
Trying to remember what has happened to me is like trying to piece together a patchwork and to gather it in. The picture in the work is not whole, it is seen and glimpsed as if it is no work of art but hobbling to finish it is the work of art. This might all end in disaster it might end in sorrow but the work will stand.
What is it to show off what is it to feel powerful for a change? I don’t like power it makes me feel weak and timid as if I am playing with matchsticks and everything might ignite into combustion.
What is pain?
She does not feel any pain with him she said so.
Is pain and love not marrying together?
I feel so tired suddenly as if all that I have been through is thrown at me as if all my pain is showing as if my body has caught all the hits I have had. What matters if I’ll not have money it is the trying to get it that counts, when a money is mentioned man go like pigs they don’t see the sense of me having money. I wonder if they think I’ll disappear from their lives or will the money eat me up or will it swallow the world or will it destroy their superiority?
He gave me up and I got pig swell.
When we teach our rotten kids to do what we do not care to do ourselves and seek the truth of it when they seek the courts of justice for the actions from which their parents are guilty of.
“Our kids did it do not blame it on us.”
When we are stormy self centred
Men do nothing but pick on little jobs to do when they want me to have nothing. This one is out gardening he has been gardening in the garden at his mother’s for nearly two weeks I feel a sense of lose will he garden himself to a early decline or is he having me on? Anyway he is in the front porch digging the front door as if his life depended on it.
I ask him when it will be finished he says nothing remains forever. Well that I know but it doesn’t end so soon either. He is bizarre you know he has his odd trousers of and he is digging away as if his inside sole will not budge. Any way I find nothing amusing in this aspect he is wasting his time you know.
I find him so strange as if he is a scarecrow as if he has such life at the same time as he gardens he is looking almost fit. I thought he was a mental patient. His mother lied you know his mother is a liar and so is he. I think about the many things he does he can’t be bad I feel but he has an idiotic expression on his bloody face and I want to wipe the smile that is there but don’t know how to approach this. Last night there was a woman with two dogs talking to him? You know talking to him. Well I think woman with dogs have no sense. Anyway he will soon go away without any more ado and it will be like everyone else. Like that Indian chap before his wedding he made violent passes I thought he was gathering experiences for his wedding then the Indian chap suddenly came with a young bride these people you can’t trust a mile. Why me because I have the reputation and that set me laughing at the whole thing.
He even invited me over to the wedding. I thought he wanted a present his father gave us a gate and made a song and dance about the gate. I gave them a nice present. I sometimes think man are after all kinds of adventures but I think they are not restful they don’t like sitting in front of the TV listening to their bellies.
Talking of bellies I saw my ex in Iceland he was listening to his hatred of me as his mouth became twisted and bitter like my mouth is as well. He seemed to be egging me on there was something on his mind I thought why did he want me to go into his shop when he was there? He must have been up to something so I bought his best buys.
Which is a bit of a mystery his mother says he is a van driver. I think van drivers are good people very much to do with traffic and things. I hope I am not becoming a stalker with evil intent about this man?
Anyway I have a theory about men they should all go and do some more work, you know England is becoming a poor country because Men do not work. You know some people don’t work all their lives and live off the state.
He says that is what I do. I don’t know you know I do more work than anybody I know and the work piles and I still have to do more work and everyone says I am lazy. That I don’t work that there is this thing that I work from 6 till 6 and I am still considered a no go area without any prospects.
I think man should work as well you know all the men I have ever known seem to be going someplace in a rush and never doing anything at all.
Suddenly I want to be famous what happens then and if I am famous what happens in between? I don’t know do I? Well I do one works for dozens of unrepentant years, afterwards enemies die or grow old and your deeds are left.
Only your deeds to your house can save you from the mental institutes and the dogma of behaving like a lunatic.
What are you? A tiny no good stupid block that’s survived through no fault of anyone’s. Why? Because there is gut instinct to see what happens next. Curiosity made me survive; I needed to find out my worth in the future.
I found out that my worth is the worth of a house and that house is what I now have to hold onto.
He does not understand how fast I am aging as if time was running within me twice three times the speed.
He is amused at my despair at this he is so amusing as he recounts as his adventures and his wealth and his everything as he says he has no time to talk for he has a date. I have to exist to survive to exist to survive.
He pats me on the shoulder see to it that you grow more of these I say don’t it is hurting to see all this and not to reply. I have to remain in my underground with my undergarments so that he does not see me as he passes in the daylight so free and himself as if he is there to gobble the planet.
The library has issued a fine.
What matters is to survive to tell the tale. Where there is a little thing without will, no will but to survive as I brew and wash and scrub I am making some kind of plan. It is important that I make it very much ok. It must work there can’t be room for errors.
My soul seems to have departed this life; it is a life not unpleasant. I eat more food and he laughs. He thinks this is cracking him up. To see what he once fought over such a ship wreck to see someone he thought beautiful such a sight he is laughing at himself.
The man that I had known and loved is now like everyone else uncaring self centred and that is enough.
Mad you are mad he says. I know I say it runs in the family and he is laughing in a jovial manner to see that his theory about me is correct. Your father is wicked he says and so is your mother did you pay to have them parent you?
No I say it is parents that bring one up and they should be respected. Oh he says do you respect your parents? Yes what have they done? I don’t know he says they might have done something wrong.
I am responsible I am good and I am nice so nasty man go away.
Bang the door into his face and try not to laugh as he is struggling with the pain. Then make matters worse for him and he is covered in bruises.
Their fists, hunger, tortured mouths grasping at all the good things you seem to have. They don’t understand that everybody has problems it’s how you deal with it that makes the difference between winning and losing. The world is a big ugly indifferent place with hard indifferent persons who think they are more important than they are.
The woman is texting something some words, the thing is when in the train they realised something strange had happened to their arrangement for the night. I must follow where she leads.
The mid sunny day is open and they must be having an affair but they also want an escape they want to do away with the sense and they want to have a good time. I have time enough I am not only famished but spent at will I will not be timeless I will be aging my body is district number ten like in shudders. Want a shoulder to cry on? Nothing doing I have fled my job and now in the vampires with the vapours.
There they are again at the counter demanding one extra bed when they’ve not booked. It is an outraged expression of hopeless helpless anger in the face of a thin, blonde woman as she tries to get a bed, an extra bed for the night.
There was 6 of them but she booked 5. Where did the other one leave to or get to and was she on licence and would they share the pillow or something? Foreign with their own accents they just smiled without seeming to know or understand how wrong it is to try to do such a thing everything must be noted down and recorded for the likes of the vampire hunters otherwise the whole of the world collapses. What can she do? The others could not speak for themselves their not English spoken. It is her who has to deal with things to put everything right. If it was a rich dame they would take their baggage and leave but they stare in anger.
She suggests they leave after the match but the man says nothing doing.
They stare at the phone which is texting them these oddities. Bastard he is a bastard, the man behind the counter the lack of beds at the lack of money. All that hunger and desperation inside me did me wrong I was going to rob and steal something but what did not want to waste another human sacrifice the feast was soon. The fatness of real tourist that would do look one must inspire them to think they safe as chickens are before they are in the pot. The land is unwelcome to them they just want to pass through. They have no manners are mean and without anything but this lack of insights of how hotels and hostels work.
The woman is solid and says something about that in real life she does something responsible I do not hear what.
This is immoral not to have a bed for the sixth the boy as he stares very much on his behaviour as they all glare at the seat which I am seated in as if I am the man behind the counter. The texts has to have something for them.
“Eh give me the phone” Said the bully.
“No need to be a nerd.”
The man behind the counter looks worn out but still human, as if he is holding suspension of judgement. There has to be something for them as he squirms on his goodness versus seen this about 100 times a day stop look.
They out stare each other the woman is almost willing the man to come to terms with her. He holds something called more money as if he is dizzy with the probabilities and possibilities and the future of the all these people in his hands.
“He wants more?” said the woman.
As if they would snap at the slightest move. He allows them the bed somehow I don’t know why he is kind to them they become rich patrons of the world as he gives them their key one for each room. They’ve won.
The music is a happy beat without any pause but drunken whistles, cheers as they all frolic in the club which is next door to the hostel. The people especially all of them being young seem to want to join in they look at me I am busily writing and they can’t seem to want to disturb the flow of my writing.
Where do I lose me to find me?
Is this reality in this shit hole? Where the men are violent and the girls are available? This is the question which won’t allow sleep as I go upstairs and leave them downstairs. The music comes with the drink these louts are drunks.
Their nerves are on edge they look at me bewildered as if they don’t understand. What reason does a woman have to write and not to enjoy?
Someone bangs his fists and the others join in. Some of the women say some words but jointly do not care I am frightened in my seat. It is a train going to a football match. I am almost convinced that the tension would not get more unsettling and fear must have showed because some words is spoken by a older man who is looking concerned at me.
This is more frightful than anything else and I leave the carriage seat and almost bump into the crowd.
They are now silent.
Why they are so silent is clear they are looking concerned and almost involved with the game of silence itself.
I leave the carriage and they startle me with their cries again.
Jump off the train and there is a wild scream coming from them I think they have lost themselves hopefully their drinking would end but they seem to be having a lot more of it.
Two of them having such a happy time of it I did not want to spoil it.
I am a waste of time
He has no time for me he does not have the time of day for me to chat to me is a waste of his time he has nothing on offer for me he does not feel me anymore my growing anger my despair my disappointment in our reality which is when we are together.
There is always this third now there is a fourth in there too. This little thoughtless action of his jealous rage as he wants to know why there is a man in the same room trying to come at me trying it on.
And why I ask this man is married he has nothing to do with me and where were you when this poor jerk proposed? How many men have been propositioning you he wants to know? I cannot count that I am not an accountant. Well you see jerk I say when you do not protect the home that is what happens. He swears at me there is nothing in his manner but one of something wrong about to happen and I am aware I have gone too far.
There is almost this courtesy this almost animal like courtesy which is amazing to me but when he is not leaving me alone he has no time for me he dislikes to feel me.
Being this benign person he does not fear that he might have given offence that his attitude in marrying another woman when he romanced with me was a tidal wave in me. That he disliked me for behaving in a manner common and that my chatter was common. A disagreeable sound as the brown eyed girl had to turn blue eyed in order to be with him.
His wife to be could do it in the park with a whole herd watching them and she did not mind in fact enjoyed their sexual acts. He did too.
Once upon a time that would have caused me pain to reveal but now no more he has still no time for me but then he makes the meals and potters round and he sounds the same but me I have changed I have become less engrossed in his concerns there is no more in my wretched attitude but that I have had enough and can destroy myself.
But that was always the way between us it always startles me how violated I feel how painful it is to state what manner of a person I have become that he can watch his ex wife over and over again and I will watch it with him and still speak in soft tones.
The thing is when one is trying to behave well and there is nothing about him but this gross male shag that will go to the edge to come out with something to do.
I feel nothing but this rage and have taken to screaming all over the place pacing myself with this and the other there is no time for me. I am left with too much time to do the things which a normal woman can do when alone wash the clothes iron the things and then re do the house when I am finished I try to do other stuff but they are soon over and done with and me and myself are left high and dry.
He has no time for me he has plenty of time for everyone else but me? There is not one glance he does not interpret as if the thing is a disaster on board this little table as we struggle to maintain that love and decency is within us. When he is still watching his ex wife and him in some underwear doing their thing saying our words doing the deeds within each other and she always smiling that smile of a cat with the cream.
That he does this constantly until there is no happiness left for us until I want to die as if that was not enough of him with her has left me a tragic loss. There is now nothing within me but ashes.
After slightly disgracing that with reality of normal feeling I go to roam and add to my adventures which are largely in my mind.
You see vampires are now in their dreaming. This is known as dream time when the vampires are also the victims. The butchers who will not leave them to hunt in peace till purgatory Vampire rights are devalued and made useless we signed the treaties which said we in the right all the time. We did right all the time why is it not true? Because they leave us with no choices we love to seek out ourselves but when we do we have nothing but mirages.
What they have something’s which they do state but where do they come from what do they do is never going to be.
Take charge there is the elevator.
I have taken to caring for some young nieces and nephews and have been looking forward to their coming when the sister has instructed them to come on the hospital day. I am almost enraged at first with speechlessness and then I am screaming trying to phone them but nobody but my sister answers.
And she says why don’t they come and help out. When it is in the middle of winter in the cold when some kid has died from the cold look we do not care what we must do what it is convenient for us and not for you.
She has nonsense says did not take my pills but what about her attitude there is this attitude and she does not want to destroy the kids but the relationship. I see them once a year and it is on that day of my most important appointment about the skeletal muscular disease that she has to do this to me with her young son and heir egging the whole thing along.
He is over worked he is tired to pick up the phone and she does not understand says I am shouting too loud does not want to say that it is against me receiving psychiatry that I am indeed mad to be doing no such thing.
He has done something what does it mean to be alone with this with this man and these monsters as they are known as family when everything is talk and more talk? When the spite is that there between us that she does not love me anymore hated me forever and has nothing on offer said she lost her attractiveness because of me.
How could she say that when we grow older we need to be wiser but she will not condemn her children to some strange thoughtless actions? She will make them stand out in the cold because she has grown spiteful?
She does not like or love me in fact there is this thing this thoughtlessness this almost beastly cruelty about the whole thing. How she is gloating that I had missed the children who used to be and now she is gloating that they are not coming that she has won her point and that they are frightened of the violence and the pain.
I feel is not augmented by her feeling less and less in that frame of sisterly kindness. There is now this hostility this silence from the male son who is with his girl going on a trip and he does not even answer the phone for me to explain. This great big silence has madden me.
The folly is nothing doing I ask mum to intervene because she might bring this thing to a sensible end and make it right for the kids once a year they come.
I look forward to that and they will come and find me out and there will be nothing in the oven nothing baked cooked and done but cold hospital visits and nothing but excuses I must not sound the alarm but I am alarmed what does it mean to be unkind to not to speak the truth to seek revenge for what?
Outside the Cinema
I am tortured by people who talk about trousers and food, things not fitting they seem to be discussing it at some length. At least it keeps them occupied.
Due to me abstaining from taking too many people along the path of life I am being torn and pushed into manifolds and made into this size 22. It is because I am a good vampire with high morality.
It gives a purpose to their day. It solves the amusing problem what to do with time. Their toilet humour is they talk about the toilet as if it has gained an ascendency. I am waiting outside the Cinema for a film to start and in the cafe next door there is the indulgence of knowing smiles and back chat that is tempting me to break and run.
They seem to be amused that someone like me is going to see a film. I stay in my jail same as everyone else or try to be. What is amusing to me is that these people are crooks and they have messed their lives not their pants.
Their familiarity, vulgarity is an asset you know I can be vulgar too. Their assets are their mouths they go over the same things as if their logic is stuck on that particular note. Why do this? Because to harass is to cause wounds to destroy my peace and to make my holiday into a nightmare and there is a personality out there out to get me.
It is as if their lives depend on this it is as if they envy so much my life as much as my time, money, everything. Why? I am not beautiful nor rich nor anything but they find me a thorn in society. They are driving me bonkers. Their facile humour, lack of honour, banality are obviously to cause wounds.
Someone says, “Drugs.”
I say, “Drugs?” Repetitively, “it is not me.”
“I am on the drugs which are prescribed.”
“But what is that?”
They do not care to explain. Just wander and wretched thing and they call the manager.
They arrest someone else or make him move out I am surprised by this I thought they would evict me. Everything seemed to be not involving me there and it was a nicer holiday than it was. I had been so picked on in London that it made a change.
These little people these little con men and women just wasting their lives on idleness when their brains could be usefully employed. Jail desperately for them or otherwise they’ll harm someone even themselves. They are sat in conversation easy with secret knowledge. Why do it in the cinema someone says and I do not reply they are not going to drive me into that kind of discourse.
Before I could see I could have made a lot of friends the film begins.
They pretend to be strangers to each other their repartee goes on. Their acknowledging each other as if so clever, devious obvious jokes- in house jokes- Purpose of the talk? Nothing more than their mouths move as they grasp at another victim.
I stare at the unleashed tongues as it wags. This fat woman is telling a tall story for a story without purpose must have told aeons. The purpose might be gain? It is unleashed it is whiplash it is there.
A beggar comes and begs obvious all are cons including the beggar the beggar looks well oiled as if he is well fed it is as if he begs to feed not a habit but food and sports and athletics.
He seems like he’s curious to see what is happening to see what is taking place. He understands by the humorous telling off the man does and he looks disappointed but is not really it is as if he has put the nail into the coffin and is finally trying to see it there.
I find this more repulsive in these people as they sit it out chatting then they all leave suddenly the lighter is on the floor I pick it up and they all look disappointed as if their souls have been put out. Call it a destination without going anywhere. The film is about to start. Must see the film is full of fest. I need to see swearing in action I need to off load my spleen.
Pp must be put out, what is that? Must get my pills must get my pills. London is burning, riots and things out of zinc. What of it all? It all comes down to money. People without money burn things. What is the time?
My wristwatch has stopped. Watchful as the night and through to O’Connor bridge where does all end? Deaths have built Ireland and it will be so. Riot shields, proud of roots as if roots are the source of life but if one remains at the root dies.
I don’t understand my understanding is not up to it. My reason is out of joint, it has taken a holiday out it has been out and out. How do I sense all that? The mysteriousness of life is sensing with life’s energies and feeling life to the full, without feeling one is a automatic machine.
If one felt as our ancestors have felt than we would know all this because it is not written in the stars but in our senses. Our sense of danger like that of our ancestors who sensed everything; who we knew were like animals.
It is not bad considering I had my fallouts and failures which only increases the feelings of perception.
I don’t think it is abnormal to be and to change and to grow. To die for a principle is not worth it for your principles change as you change. They don’t believe in changes in my clan they don’t believe one develops and grows.
“You are what you were as a child and the child is the father of the man and that is what you are and nothing better or worse.”
So we do not learn anything by life we only lose what we began with and that is some philosophy? That is that I said to myself that is what they believe in and now I am serving them and making them meals which they can prepare as well if not better themselves.
“So being a woman in this beastly shell is not gaining anything but losing?”
“That is what they believe in.”
“The clan in Turkey it is tradition.”
“Once a tradition always a tradition never ends.”
“I was born with this and I am nothing more or less as I am the same said the man.”
So here I am this woman who sits in Ireland drinking tea after a matinee and there is nothing but me in there nothing but the scone and the butter and the jam. What else does one need?
I glower into the scone as I bite into it distressing I thought that sometimes one needs something less sweet more bitter sweet. I am allayed by my fears of the now into the future what does the fortune cookie say?
Nothing and more nothing as if nothing is the matter what is the matter nothing there is not much left from the scone and there is nothing left to eat on the plate I am so much in such a heavy duty mood that as if I had not seen a comedy but a tragedy and I want to wallow in something. I want to go somewhere and be somebody else.
What is me who is this person weeping I want to be somewhere else weeping less.
But the fearful strain on me had not lifted my arms are heavy with the strain of lifting my cup of tea. What is the matter tries to ask a woman.
“I am shocked at how obvious it is now what is so obvious to me that the standards in this place are never nice and to think....”
She turns to someone her partner and says something with a smile I am so embarrassed.
I do not care to be seen eavesdropping there is nothing that makes me seem so unimportant as listening to someone else’s conversation. So I ceased to listen and made do with just looking. But they seem to be odd couple they said something I did not know about the thing was nothing to do with me so shrugged.
Waiting for them horrid things called the human food what would takes me to them food banks? I have my wings but I prefer to get on the buses it is less obvious and less deadly I am a clever vampire. The blood would come very handy now I do not hide the mistakes which my former selves did make they went to the food human consumptions too many times and made a name for themselves. I mean no scandals that is what matters is it not?
It’s waiting for buses that makes one religious these bloody buses. Taxies for a fare want to run you down. I am not getting on a taxi because if I spend on taxi’s I’ll probably starve. No I don’t I want to do that. Shall I compare you to a bus you are as lovely as the back of a bus. I think the bus is not coming it is late.
Maybe they are running or not running as the case may be? Have you seen that rare sight? Bloody pigeon don’t do that bloody dog. No one understands or comprehends my back is killing me. Everybody’s got religious we are laughing our heads off. Bloody taxis again to get their fare they are dogmatic. I am going to the cemetery so won’t go far I bet waiting for Go dot was inspired by Becket as he was waiting for bus 19.
Those loud cries of drunks is such a sight it makes me think of England and how it was as I grew. What’s so special about the 19 Bus? It is the only one going to the cemetery that one has to pay to get in.
Why is it that all writers have come alive? It is as if am breathing in their footsteps maybe I should have gone to a park instead all the buses seem to be. Aren’t I glad to see you I was getting very religious? I liked you so much stayed till last stop. Swipe my card and the driver ends up questioning. It is about prosperity.
The new government’s genius at economy. I eventually arrive at the cemetery pay in 4 Euros. I mean it was supposed to be free! The woman is an enthusiast one tour goes on about O’Connor and how the Irish have 1000’s for their funerals. She don’t understand about the husbands and wives going into separate graveyards.
Apparently if a statesmen they have to accommodate public taste separately in separate towns and cities. There was a banner of fidelity I said they can’t do anything can they? I mean they can’t go off with someone else or have sex or well they are dead.
When I am dead where do you think I can be buried? Shudder at the thought and think of something like the cold and the slit coming my way. No sorry there is sunshine coming over the horizon and that makes me feel okay as I try to drink. The thing is it is poisoned. I place it carefully into the bin and try not to think about it there is another chance I might go and re order? No the thought did cross me and then I thought what if the bus should arrive?
The lecture still in my head I thought it is a raw deal.
So a man and his wife could not be buried if politicians?
That makes it sacrilege does not it?
What one gives to know what the wife did in between?
The living were less interesting than the dead, or at least that is how they appeared- their courage their lives, complete lack of their own self and their danger in the pursuit of an ideal that has created a country. The women were just standing by while the men did all the work so the women did not tend the house and everything and men did all and everything. Tosh.
No mention of the disabled only the privileged classes only the table. The little I know now I know less. What makes society? Customs and circumstances of their wages and then I go to my hostel seeing a queue and realise that there has been something going on but morality aside she lost her purse and did it without dignity her money she said gone.
The landlady did not believe she had a purse and there is this pause as if the girl would be hurt then she accepts the whole thing.
Their whining the girl said she would have to work harder and her friend was looking ever so excited because they worked together.
The thing was?
You know the hostel is filled with all the whores of Ireland? I must admit I did not expect that for all of them to be gathered under one roof. Like vultures preying on me eyes with their pimps and boyfriends going to do the business for an hour or so.
It must be a lewd joke? As I sit on this inevitable table trying to figure out what to do others come in deep conversations? What they are saying I don’t know I don’t want to know.
I tried to ignore the obvious and did it so well they behaved with dignity too.
How did I end up in a hostel which was next to a club don’t ask.
They cook and eat in their plenty their souls are starved. They are constantly laughing but their eyes...
I went rushing to nowhere. The hostel is okay for a bite but what does one do next year when I have run out of resources to amuse myself? I sketched a lot of plans to seek them out and did nothing wrong all day and did a lot of thinking but I have run out of money I must get money otherwise I’ll end up in the gutter or worse in the coffin where they can see what truly I am.
I feel like Joy
I went on the bus to see the Irish brogue and to feel the people, who are the essence of Ireland or anywhere civilised. I sat on the bus and an old drunken man came onto the next seat. He looked wisely at me as if in a sense of his own mystic. He was acting a part out of the victim and did not fancy a bite at all.
Wailing in happiness I sat it out like he said something about his widowhood and something about his Hail Mary which turned out to be his wife.
When he turned and winked into my eye.
He looked measuring and directly into my face. I shielded my eyes from him in a manner that bespoke countless other old men on buses coming with their particular brogues.
As they too measured my dignity or lack of it or indignity or lack I am a mere shade. Anyway I was a lesbian that day so was taking his measure and feeling very important about my mission as the survivor of a movement called the disabled. I had taken the identity of this lesbian because came out with the doctors permission and he did not only sigh he was relieved that me was a lesbian and off his book.
The thing after that needed a holiday to come terms with myself.
So I took stock of him as he took stock of me. The role assigned to be was to be humorous and disobliging and trying not to corrupt the Irish way of life.
He sat squeezing me into a corner and I sat still and did not move as usual I was in the grip. What gets me being fat is that most people find this pleasant to their wants they don’t want anything else they want that bit of fat on the seat next to them as they would not want anything else as they have commitments and families and any decency they feel about you is out of the window.
He then said he nipping to the pub
I find this strange behaviour in people as I am fat and the way I feel about this intrusion is to wallop them. But my own personal safety is that I don’t I don’t want to end in a hospital or a prison. Walloping is out what I normally do is get up and leave them to it.
But this time the man was a widower and he was desperately unkind he looked wicked and my curiosity was to satisfy his curiosity about me as much as to say what does he do? I wanted information and I was going to get information but for a price.
The price is that he was a dirty old man but my feelings of alienation were mixed with all the past men who grapple on the bus. Once it became dangerous for the man was actually looking very disturbing and disturbed.
I had to leave the bus and feared he would follow so what I did was to go to the back of the bus. And observed him getting off as I had expected looking for me I told myself no he has hardly any blood his drink is more inside him than blood needed something more..... Substantial.
This particular Irish man was looking so pleased about being where he was I did not have the heart to disoblige him anyway he was looking or trying to look intelligent. He must have been very intelligent as he sat looking smug and so full of his dead wife Mary. He sat just so not daring to go further. I pleased that he did not let him talk.
He wanted to meet me in a pub somewhere in his local, he showed me the road and he looked so obliging. I wondered if I would have to pay him a visit after all?
It usually is anyway he sat looking and talking with the Irish serenity that comes with the drink. I did not respect his privacy but wanted to know why he was not as talkative as all the rest of the men? He had moments of quiet reflection which was as if he was measuring what he would do next. I was not trying to get rid of him for some time but in the end all he talked about was Mary and I was getting sick and tired of her.
But hoped he would find a useful time without Mary as if she was dodging his footsteps and making his loneliness complete. What got me was that Mary was a perceptible presence in the conversation as if she was there between us. He got up lightly and said hope to see you in the pub. Well I did not respond by anything but I hope to see you there and he lightly got off the bus.
Oh I’ll try not to make it. I thought and thought no more about the indecency of the situation and why do lonely old man have to act in that particular manner? Here I am an interesting vampire and the poor odd fool does not see me at all? That does not please me at all don’t want you they just want the company and to tell their friends about the way woman misbehave and how not to trust the men at all.
Women are the worse.
Got off the bus and in Ireland had a time trying to remember which direction was the hostel. The bridge I was crossing wondering which way forward which way back when there was a exchange of bags.
Or a girl dropped a bag and a man picked it up. He seemed to be making a job of it with pressing his trousers and looking very natural. I wondered what it could be I could not stop thinking about it. It was not my business as a citizen, it was my business. Accessory, indemnity, drug dealing. Cripples in wheelchairs and odd looking people looking into my eyes daring me to do what?
They were daring me to tell, they want my obedience they want my silence they want to intimidate me. I said I can’t really take all this. This is all too much to take in one day or life time or evening or day or year or century.
They were doing drugs?
Yes I think.
There was no doubt they were doing drugs.
In fact I left in the air hanging with guilt had nothing concrete so left it in the air did not report them. That we do not belong in Ireland there is this seriousness there is this disaster which had happened I did not do anything but say where is the hostel which I must find and live by the rules.
No cooking except your own food and no opening the door to strangers after hours.
Come on down skivvy and do not be such a lazybones
I went to bed and my bed was comfortable should I report them? What shall I say? A man was laundering his pants and a girl dropped a bag? The girl’s face was the one who had been in the hostel she was looking very unwashed and nervous.
Too nervous which is what did not ring true if one is a drug courier one does not draw attention to oneself. These people were too obvious like they wanted me to create a stir. This being my reason I did not.
Paupers the whole lot of them.
I sat in the cinema looking at all the poor people until went to the canteen and had something to eat. The paupers were not there a richly clan woman was wolfing me down. I sat nearer the edge of my seat and tried not to appear startled. Most women wives probably always made me fear them.
Then I got into the paupers again.
I am not going to do things which people want I am not. I looked guilty was I right or wrong was I wrong? I could be wrong or I could be wrong they must have gone to Paris by now. I went to the Cinema again.
There she was again looking natural this time she was nervous. Really nervous I wondered why she was nervous this time and not before? This poor girl looked so nervy on edge was she a drug addict or somehow like me?
She seem to be glazed all over. It must have been a shock to her system but why? Not nervous before now suddenly could kill. Well I don’t know she might have got some money so was afraid to lose?
More to lose less to lose what would all the others say if they could see me the odd one out doing and thinking such a deed? What does a rat do? Scamper I thought she would scamper was preoccupied with the film so did not notice as she left. What got me was that these people were all over the place.
I could not move for them or get away from them or be away one second without something happening. This was a bit odd. Why did I keep meeting these people? They seem to be magnetised by me as if I was calling them.
They seem to know something which I did not was I calling them to me? Or were they calling me to them? Was it a joke or something? What did it all mean? Nothing to do with me I think why was I bumping into them? How could it be that wherever there was a crime I was in the middle of it? Well something dodgy about it, odd even it was the most bizarre day.
Then somehow something strange happened they were all well groomed and dressed and did things without knowing looking or fearing. It was a preview night and I had walked in. I was embarrassed mostly because did not care to be seen in company. I went out and did not turn back they did ask me did I like the film?
Did I like that film?
Cries and cries again.
I remember the blonde woman thin the one without money and six people to 5 beds glaring at me as I had looked inquisitive. If they are the insects in a lab I’ve discovered I dissect them but find am not dissecting animals but these humans are sometimes not as simple as animals. Even the nabobs are not. They have something which they love that is why I like studying them to see variations and to look at them one expects to find something. Not there is two things on their minds money and power.
The police sirens go such a sight and loud and clear- Law and order who to believe what to believe? I leave the room again this time I leave the common area because I am in bed thinking about the common area and I want to leave the thoughts associated with the space. I have washed my cup. If you can’t wash don’t eat... says the writing on the wall. It is washing my cup in the morning that I find I like being me.
Yeats said, “I don’t necessarily agree with you but defend it to my last breath.” He was right it is the way with the world of democracy that is what we all do, we defend free speech for that is what it is freedom is not about open spaces but the thoughts in that space. If there are no thoughts what must a individual do but become an ape? This place Ireland is filled with story tellers. In the street you are lost there is a hundred of alternatives. People spin a yarn just to pass the time. However the freedom fighters are realities of Ireland the way Ireland fought for its identity. People remember their history not because who they are but because it is in their blood to.
Today am going to see the goal. The simply glorious place that is filled with criminals, now this prison is empty used for tourists and film making. With the world full of blackness and deceit hearts gone off, mothers uncaring and murderous. Who cares for me? Who’s a blackguard? I want to feel and feel and there is no place to feel.
This animosity and hatred. A feeling of fear, not because I’m a coward but because I’ve been cowed, beaten and this has produced a weakness, a confusion a little out of it. Why because there is nothing in my world to hold on to.
There is no strings attached in having to go to a place the place welcomes and extols its virtues you are there to take and the place to give. My impertinence to say no. When I say no I MEAN no. No answers to this question.
His brother owned an electrical junk shop and he wanted to marry me but the brother still had married someone and had her baby still his brother was the one paying for the cafe and he was a suitor intentions strictly honourable.
The brother had made from junk something called a good business concern and he invented mostly what was on the real retail market and did in fact do a lot of the work himself. He did not ask me out just looked seriously concentrating on what his brother said and his brother was a married man whom looked like a film idol but was not.
An Indian film idol is not the same as the ones in the West they have differing standards of handsome. But thinking was he was a sobering one and I had been known to fall for the likes of film idols.
His mouth was like a kissing field and I did not only find it attractive but so did many a woman. He seemed to have a following in there but his wife was a good student of psychology and thoughtfully left him to roam freely he was a free ranged husband.
She told me so in something like a conversation we had and I did like her a bit but she was superior in station to me and did not feel I could do anything for her socially. The thing which decided her was that I cleaned the toilets that made me untouchable.
How can one own a cafe and not clean toilets? It did not occur to them that it is a statement of fact they just did not do such things. Where did they happen to know something less shameful than that?
“A woman cleaning toilets bad thing to do.”
So I did not thank them for their friendship eventually thought they would stink the cafe toilet and would clear out. So accepted their money and went about my concerns.
So you see in India if one cleans the toilets it makes them slaves in fact they cannot climb the barrier of social caste system. I was amused by that it did not occur to me nowadays that most people would think the same.
In a small community everyone knows everybody and we knew our business was damned so we were pleasantly surprised by their interests in our shop. Mother said what they know about the cafe business they are into electrics. But dad said they must know a great deal being educated and all that.
They rented the cafe and they run it in conjoined images of a cafe restaurant but closed it the moment their bell went and opened the cafe when it suited them. The bells in our cafe did not go at all in fact it ceased altogether.
His junk business was taking a good turn and his revenues must have been good because they paid 195 a week rent and this made us live comfortably for a year. A week a year but we paid for the rates which was not much in those days. Now it is near six thousand a year.
That is why everyone is now a sub charity charities do not have to pay any rates.
So when his bell was rang he would ran and then come back and startle everyone by asking who was never there. He was hard done by because no customers in the shop.
“If you don’t stay in the shop nobody comes in.” Said mother loftily.
“I am doing no business here.” He told us.
He did not have to stand all day and behave like a waiter so he went and did his other jobs he got his wife pregnant she graduated from account and became a junior partner and this happiness brought him so much joy. They now happily sorted and middle class.
They said to me unnaturally serious,
“We must break the lease what do you think?”
“Okay. I am surprised you stayed so long.”
“This is the best present this is the whole present.” He began to kiss his baby girl.
This is the best present and he continues to kiss her. The child looks on outraged at her father.
I was sorry to see him so happy but that is life.
“This could have been yours.”
“NO.” My pain is real that everyone seems to put it into my face when they are happiest that it could have been mind what could be mine can never be.
I reel and then openly hostile say some words not distinct but he scampers.
Then I remember the images which had stopped me when he did propose the elopement and that matters less he is so happy so much more with her than with me and I shrug.
There is nothing to say there is nothing the matter with a normal reaction there is the end of this happy moment why do men assume that they must be the centre stage? How dare he jest in such a matter as that?
I hobble along with my fat body and sit down.
He asks for a water bed for himself he seemed to detest me for some reason.
I am a shadow of my former self.
This puzzle about that puzzle
I am uncovering a giant Jigsaw puzzle and one of the pieces is missing which upsets someone very important. I had been hasty and it dropped from my hand and went somewhere never to be discovered ever again. I dropped the jigsaw and a important person addicted to such puzzles was undone by the puzzle. I meant no harm to the convention your honour. You see vampires have a lot of time hanging on their hands and they use them with puzzles.
That is why I had made an enemy so great and important because that person gave her time in vain to the likes of me who had lost a piece of the jigsaw puzzle and made her life a misery a wasted effort which is an illustration from the jigsaw puzzle.
“Cry tears for she will not forget or forgive you.”
“A crossword not complete but a jigsaw not complete is hell for her.”
“Look why do you eat chocolate?”
“Because I want the juicy bites”
“That is what it is to her.”
“Oh dear I am sorry.”
“Said it Miss?”
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes Miss I do.”
“It is an overreaction why should anyone care about such a simple thing?”
“Can a heart react without a vein can a vein react without the blood vessels can a vessel react without the motions and the locomotion of the bodily fluids?”
“Do you mean I am heartless?”
“Heck I did not have such a good biology lesson ever please Miss continue.”
“I am not to be laughed at.”
“We are not laughing at all.”
“Hush.” The group said.
This puzzles me for the day and she satisfied goes along laughing. But soon knew no laughing matter.
Never underestimate a woman in power she is unkind.
One little piece of that jigsaw which escaped me was this dress codes and lack of respect for my authoritarian figures.
“That has cost you a lot me dear.”
“I know but who cares?”
“You must respect authority.”
“She might not remember me. In fact might me forget?”
“She has a remarkable memory.”
“I will change my name.”
“Ten to one what way”
“Incognito to incognito”
“Loath the very sight of her hunting this job and that”
“Hell let us take away all she has.”
“But I don’t have anything.”
“That will be quite enough.”
That woman is in a powerful positions are just like men.
“Not womanly at all?”