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.

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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.

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