Speed and distraction

• let me
I sucked on the end of my index finger and poked it into the plastic bag
• my seat is still warm from that girl who was getting off when we got on, E informed me as I put my finger to her mouth. She opened wide like a good citizen and let me rub the substance on her gums
• I'm not sure, I told her, but this seat may have been kind of warm too. Did you see who got up?
• a large man.
• God no, I whispered. That was the last thing I needed to hear. I squirmed and clenched my ass cheeks a little.
E was sticking a wet finger into the bag
• that for me? I asked. She answered by poking it into my mouth. It was three in the afternoon. The other occupants of the carriage were either looking at us with annoyance or disgust, or simply pretending with great force that we weren't there.
• I love having a warm seat on the Metro, she said. It like traveling first class, underground.
I looked into the eyes of the disapproving lady sitting opposite us and nodded at her.
• we have warm seats, I told her whilst wondering why I was even bothering. She would never understand. I could feel my veins pulse in my eyeballs.

Sparkling loon-hat

I'm seeing razor sparkles around the edges of my vision again, the result of my inability to relax, sleep or just kick back. E is giving me the caffeine talk as I sit here, which is amusing me no end because I've actually been pondering a return to the mute, sedated world of hard drugs these days and nights - mainly the days.

Surviving is becoming a tricky business - Nights, normally considered the hours of panic for anyone in this condition, are in fact are the easy part - I conquered wild-eyed insomnia years ago by just not going to bed and hitting the streets instead, feeding from the neon and sirens and finding inspiration in the habits of night people. Days are another story altogether but I'll get to that later. Time to get my thinking hat on.

°

One hell

I just can't sleep,
Starting droning - 2 bottles of red will see you off,
That's a downward spiral ...
(Only if you try to stop, otherwise it's one hell of a ride.)

Below the below

Trapped underground with nothing but iron noise-makers to bang against the stones. Slippery stuff underfoot, spores in the lungs, oppressed by many phobias.

Let me out.

•

Long Gone

I found Norf on the bathroom floor, long gone, messed-up. His shirt was long gone too, although one of the sleeves had first been torn off and tied very tightly around his arm. A nice state to find your friend in. The expression on his face was as ghastly as the scene itself, a tap on the shoulder from my own temptations, the reflection of a score of possibilities.

I got my arms under his and heaved him to his knees - you don't need to hear the rest.

•

Unnecessary fruit

My mailbox was stuffed with fresh oranges this afternoon, which would have been a pleasant surprise on any normal day, but I had been expecting a rather important padded package and a mailbox full of fruit was, today, just an unnecessary and unwelcome event.

Yesterday it was full of apples, the day before bananas, the day before that - lychees (literally thousands) and before that a couple of grapefruit. Someone's up to something, but I'm not rising to it. I have other fish to fry.

•. •. •.

Welcome to the night train #28

Oh too late once again - next time I'll jump in front of this damn train, even if it kills me - which it should right? Eurgh what a mean thing to do or say. I was joking of course.

No in fact a man just came up to me and asked me if I had a cigarette, again , and when I told him that I tend to avoid anything chemically addictive these days he snarled and spat that he should push me on front of the next train. Nice right? Cheers buddy, have a good night too.

People. Don't get me started.

*

Lines

I've begun to see lines in front of my eyes once more. Three vertical lines, evenly spaced signifying, I believe, a doorway.

God this is bullshit! I just read that out loud and it sounds like the most ridiculous, pretentious crap imaginable. It's true though about the lines before my eyes though and it's also true (I think I mentioned it somewhere before) that the doorway to Chime has three vertical lines painted on it, but I'm putting the whole thing down to coincidence. My eyes have also been gritty and inflamed recently.

Perhaps something is up ....

And there she stood ...

And there she stood, staring at nothing, telling me what I wanted to hear (although I had most likely misinterpreted her words to suit my own fantasy).

I ho-hummed to myself and went back inside, where the walls repelled me and the ceiling attempted to starve me, again.

Anyway, that was today.

Facts

Ha well yes; all that almost spelled disaster, what a thing to admit (yesterday's post). Whatever.

I learned 2 things during the last telephone conversation I had yesterday:

Número uno - pole dancing is all about stomach muscle use, and
Two - eye zapping is possible.

And there we have it.

Fucking Starbux

Fucking starbux at 6.50pm - the music is making me retch but we're so hungover and the donuts called us in here ... not the coffee. Is there worse coffee? Perhaps it's just this one. I have a new T-shirt on and it's making my body itch and the music is still making me retch. The whole affair is a disaster on every level. Fucking starbux.

*

E & K, Feb '10

The television was loud again from next door, this time broadcasting in English. I wonder why. Subtitled, I suppose. The dialogue was laughable and suggested Victorian England, all backed by strange, industrial, ambient music.

“You’re not lying to me, are you Mary,” a man spoke. “Ah Mary, if only we could all see inside each other, through each other as I do you, right now. I can see so much, so much I never knew … Oh Mary, I never knew. I should leave now. Mary? What's wrong?”

“That ... that,” a woman’s voice replied, shivering yet determined. “Don’t ever do that again to me. Ever.”

“I won’t apologise Mary. You’ll never make me apologise. Never.” 

It all sounded quite dramatic.

With my coffee mug in one hand and cigarette in the other, I sat down with my back against the wall and turned my attention back to E and Kaisha. Only the sides of their faces were visible in the dark, the glow from the uppermost X emitting the only light which touched their bodies. I had drank too much rum again, and as they swayed together to the sound of imagined music I could only catch the briefest snatches of conversation between them. What I could hear didn’t interest me, only the sight of them interested me. The sight of E laughing and smiling once again.

E whispered into her ear and in a fit of laughter Kaisha fell towards her, placing her hand on E’s arm to steady herself. E fell forward and wrapped her arms around Kaisha’s body. They fell down and were almost lost in the deep scarlet quilt which covers the bed. I looked to window and then back to their bodies. They had turned to face each other, close together, and with their hair over their faces I could no longer tell Kaisha from E. As the headlights from passing cars crawled across the ceiling and down the walls, their bodies were highlighted in sections.

*

I dunno what came over me, all that sea stuff. I mean, I give the whole thing a sea-feel then rant about how much I hate being in the sea and, you know, that doesn't really look too good does it? What was I trying to say? I'll never know. 
To hell with all that. Someone came up today in the street and asked me for my jacket, where did I get it, can I just buy yours etc. It wasn't a homeless person (to my knowledge) just some raving idiot. I told him he could have it for 300 euros and he looked like he was giving it some thought ... its not even that good a jacket, just something about the pockets being the sort of thing he was looking for or something. 
I dunno what else to say about that.

*

Seaing

This place has developed a sea look for no reason other than the fact that it had to look like something, so why not water? I myself don't care for the sea - I mean, I have no desire to get into it. It's wonderful to look at and listen to and comes in handy of course but generally speaking the sea doesn't float my boat. Haha.
And neither does seafood while we're on the subject - that shit belongs in the sea and not on our dinner tables.
*

Insect invasion for real

I've been recovering from an insect ear invasion these days - not a nice situation, but a first. For me anyway. 
That little monkey flew straight in there and vibrated the hell out of my head for a few minutes before falling silent and still which was even more alarming than the initial invasion. With no idea if it had flown out or passed out I had to get Stepek to peer inside and give me the news, but he couldn't see anything so I still have no idea where it went. Ah well. What can I do anyway? 
Ten minutes ago Stepek suggested inserting a drop of lighter fluid and then a hot match, a combination he assured me would cause a flame to engulf my ear cavity for less than a tenth of a second. I declined, satisfied by the fact that only one year ago I would have been up for such a dumb stunt.
*