Munter - 16/29 December 2003 / part 3
On the edge of the edge of the edge, absorbing much pain, waiting to confront the evil dark imp inside, when I can find the little cunt. It's 09:47 a.m., 23rd dec., I've just washed big lump of billy paste and a roc 'o charles down with a cup of tea and am just finishing single skinner with some hash in. Waiting for it to kick in and get me up and about.
I AM VIBRATING! Need to go out and eat. But hark! I hear the temple bells, they'll all be open now. Need to get - worcester sauce, tabasco, tomato juice and lemons so I can have some bloody mary's later and watch my head implode. It's fucking pissing down outside, washed all the snow away, it must have warmed up a bit. Wow! Electric neon vibro-wobbles coursing thru me being. Chalky visits Mars a few times a week and occasionally lands, says "There's no point sending a fucking probe up 'cos there's nay fucking life there." He could hardly fucking stand up when he came into the pub yesterday about 4p.m., he'd been up since 1:30 a.m. drinking scrumpy! Every other word was 'fucking' or 'cunt' or 'twat'. He said to ***** "And you're fucking shite, you are." Oh I do like to be beside the seaside. Just gonna go and drop some kids off at the pool. Yo ho ho. Then get dressed and brave the fucking weather and see what delights Whitby has to offer to-day. Cafe. Shopping. Black Horse... dot, dot, dot. Dash.
Trying to break the cycle of repetition is not at all easy, wheels within wheels within wheels. FACKING WEDDING CAKE AGAIN.
Feel better than yesterday even tho I'm almost transparent and off my fucking titties, matey-pops, trying to mask THE FEAR. I'm shit-scared of the air and molecules, seperating everything out as it's falling apart. Waiting for my head to implode as I collapse in on myself. Boo! Who? fickle sheen, sweat trickles electrical. Shock Therapy. Stick it in, twist it, pull it out. Big fish, little fish, cardboard box. Bayonet practice. Would you like ice in that (glass) please, or a bit a' lemon? Aid. This really is one of the hardest, most painful things that I have had to do or get thru in my life, if you've ever wanted intensity, phew, you don't want any of this, can you imagine how fucking blood-shot my eyes are but it's ok. 'cos I don't need 'em to see with anymore, I can use the radar to get around this town with. My cat, Ronnie, who I left with Moira, Cap + Cobweb, had to be 'put to sleep' a few months ago and I've only just found out and it's gutted me to the core of my being, I'm too numb to fucking cry about it now, I'll cry for Poor Ronnie tomorrow, fuck you, fuck me, fuck every stupid fucking thing. Arseholes, bollocks and cunts to it all, the lot of it 'cos that's the way it is (PAINFUL SHITE MAN) and if you don't like it, fuck off.
