Today, for no reason whatsoever I decided to walk to work instead of taking the bike.
When I take the bike to work I make my way through the side streets, but because I was walking I figured the best route was down Main Street.
The side streets have beautiful, curious, magical shops. Antiques and junk, the best bakers, and even a shop dedicated to buttons ! These shops are not open as I pass them but they make me feel good !
So as I said, I was walking down Main Street this morning. Nothing much had changed. All the same global names stretching for four hundred meters.
Half way down Main I came across Billy. I hadn´t seen him for at least two years and we both failed to recognise eachother at first. We were walking toward eachother and it was only when he was about five meters away that I thought I knew who he was. At five meters away he also looked at me with some quizical form of recognition. I couldn´t take the chance of insulting him so as we drew level I said, `Billy?
He looked at me blankly but then the penny dropped. `Hey M. `.
`Billy mate, how are you doin`?
I offered a hand but his eyes were raised to the skies.
After thirty seconds or so his eyes lowered from the heavens and rested deeply in mine. He smiled like coming back from a beautiful dream which he knows he can continue at any time and said.... `What was the question `?
`How are you`, I said.
`Oh, er, well, low or even no self esteem, can´t and don´t want to take care of myself, hate more than fifty percent of the population, I feel sorry for myself but I feel even more sorry for humannity in general, my body feels like thirty, but my anger feels like nineteen. That´s how I am, and you ?`
´Fine mate. Have to get to work.`
I think the best greetings are `Good morning, Good afternoon and Good evening.
But even then some people will interperate that as an invitation to spew their gall.
Won´t take Main Street again in a hurry.
M x
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Lost. ( Missing.)
Terrence always hated his name but that is how how he grew up and he just exepted it. I just thought I´d let you know eventhough it has no bearing on this annacdote whatsoever.
Terrence was working late one night and was actually the last person in the office. Most of the lights in the office were out and his face sprang out from the glare of his computer.
It was nine thirty when for no apparent reason someone clubbed him over the back of the head. All lights went out.
Two hours later he woke up, felt the back of his head, looked at his hand, saw no blood and thought; `Well better call, eh...better go to...eh..., go back home ?´
It was only after these thoughs that he thought `What the hell just happened ?
He rubbed the back of his head for a minute or two then in a reflex picked up his briefcase, and opened it. Nothing was missing though he did not recognise his passport photo or the nane on the cover. The names on his bank card and credit card were also unfamilliar. There were documents with his apparent name on.
He was bemused and confused and all of a sudden felt unsafe. He had to get out of the office. And fast !
Once outside he took more than one deep breath and it seemed to clear his head somewhat. But then he realized that he didn´t recognise anything. He walked calmly into the unknown streets with no fear or trepidation.
He found a park not three hundred yards from his office but it was still not known to him in his present state. He seated himself on a bench, placed his briefcase on his lap and opened it up. Everything was still there. But there was an addition. On top of all the documents was now a beautifully bound book. He gazed at the cover for a half hour before falling into a deep sleep.
The next day he managed to find his way to a railway station. The fact that he had forgotten much and recognised little didn´t hinder him in making a dessision to buy a aticket to Cornwall.
He has been living there for a while now and his credit card still holds out for the essencials. But for most of the time he just sits either on the rocks near the shoreline or in the meadow reading and rereading the book which appeared in his briefcase. He goes over and over it.
He looks out to sea or over the rolling hills thinking `Steal all the clocks, steal all the clocks...
Terrence knows his own future.
NEVER SLEEPING !
Terrence was working late one night and was actually the last person in the office. Most of the lights in the office were out and his face sprang out from the glare of his computer.
It was nine thirty when for no apparent reason someone clubbed him over the back of the head. All lights went out.
Two hours later he woke up, felt the back of his head, looked at his hand, saw no blood and thought; `Well better call, eh...better go to...eh..., go back home ?´
It was only after these thoughs that he thought `What the hell just happened ?
He rubbed the back of his head for a minute or two then in a reflex picked up his briefcase, and opened it. Nothing was missing though he did not recognise his passport photo or the nane on the cover. The names on his bank card and credit card were also unfamilliar. There were documents with his apparent name on.
He was bemused and confused and all of a sudden felt unsafe. He had to get out of the office. And fast !
Once outside he took more than one deep breath and it seemed to clear his head somewhat. But then he realized that he didn´t recognise anything. He walked calmly into the unknown streets with no fear or trepidation.
He found a park not three hundred yards from his office but it was still not known to him in his present state. He seated himself on a bench, placed his briefcase on his lap and opened it up. Everything was still there. But there was an addition. On top of all the documents was now a beautifully bound book. He gazed at the cover for a half hour before falling into a deep sleep.
The next day he managed to find his way to a railway station. The fact that he had forgotten much and recognised little didn´t hinder him in making a dessision to buy a aticket to Cornwall.
He has been living there for a while now and his credit card still holds out for the essencials. But for most of the time he just sits either on the rocks near the shoreline or in the meadow reading and rereading the book which appeared in his briefcase. He goes over and over it.
He looks out to sea or over the rolling hills thinking `Steal all the clocks, steal all the clocks...
Terrence knows his own future.
NEVER SLEEPING !
Monday, May 18, 2009
Murder Crisis.(And No Pension Plan.)
Years ago there was no shortage of work. The 60´s the 70´s. But then capitalism set in. So much competition..... plenty work. Too many takers.
Even criminals need competition otherwise there is no fun , even in their buisiness.
I have become almost redundant, even we are not immune to the crisis.
I still won´t apologise for all I´ve done.
Son of a bitch.
Strange things will happen.
M.
Even criminals need competition otherwise there is no fun , even in their buisiness.
I have become almost redundant, even we are not immune to the crisis.
I still won´t apologise for all I´ve done.
Son of a bitch.
Strange things will happen.
M.
Not Important. ( But The Aftershocks...) !!!!
Today, as every other day for the last year or so I woke up and before I knew it two women had invaded my thoughts. Neither of them were my mother so I consider myself not sick.
I had no time to think about myself before SHE arrived. And SHE lead into HER.
And that was all before the morning piss.
During shaving and looking in the mirror I can let them loose.
But during the roll up and the cup of tea they both creep back in.
My fault, not theirs´.
And after all that I still have to go to work.
God, I´m horney !!!!!!
M xxx
I had no time to think about myself before SHE arrived. And SHE lead into HER.
And that was all before the morning piss.
During shaving and looking in the mirror I can let them loose.
But during the roll up and the cup of tea they both creep back in.
My fault, not theirs´.
And after all that I still have to go to work.
God, I´m horney !!!!!!
M xxx
Friday, May 15, 2009
Reflections. ( Past, Present and Future.)
Not surprisingly the scene is a cafe. I had just put my book down and removed my reading glasses when I looked up. It is spring time and the door was open. It has a glass panel. I was slightly surprised but not shocked by my own reflection so I kept on staring. The background beyond the glass helped to fade the details so I began to create images.
Funnily enough I went through the exact same images as I did twenty seven years ago when I took a load of mushrooms in an attic room. It was a pitch black night outside. I put a candle on a windowsill and stared at my face untill I got transported.
First I was a Mexican male with a round jolly face, then transformed into a beautiful Japanees girl with a bone structure to die for who in turn changed me into a bearded old man. The old man was not a happy figure. He slowly changed into a skull. And the skull had no intention of changing into anything else than what he was.
Have been coming to this cafe for the last ten years. Still can´t work out the details.
Signed : The Beautiful Magic Mushroom Cloud.
Funnily enough I went through the exact same images as I did twenty seven years ago when I took a load of mushrooms in an attic room. It was a pitch black night outside. I put a candle on a windowsill and stared at my face untill I got transported.
First I was a Mexican male with a round jolly face, then transformed into a beautiful Japanees girl with a bone structure to die for who in turn changed me into a bearded old man. The old man was not a happy figure. He slowly changed into a skull. And the skull had no intention of changing into anything else than what he was.
Have been coming to this cafe for the last ten years. Still can´t work out the details.
Signed : The Beautiful Magic Mushroom Cloud.
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