Why is it you hate me
I see it in your eyes
You don’t even try to hide it
With me
There’s no disguise
Maybe it’s an
Age thing
Why I irk you so
Maybe it’s because
You like to think
That I am
Slow
Either way
You break my heart
With your
Wicked words
The blatant disrespect
You show to me
Seems really quite
Absurd
All I’ve ever done is loved you
Protected you from harm
I’m tired of your poison
I crave to see your charm
I know it’s in there somewhere
Hidden out of view
Today
I’m going searching
Please
Give me a clue
I will break down all those barriers
In which you’re tightly bound
Sneak in very carefully
You will not hear a sound
Traverse your war torn country
Until I find your cell
Then carefully extract you
From the hell in which you dwell
Wrap you up into my arms
Make sure you’re safe and warm
I will be the guiding light
From your internal storm
And maybe in the future
When your seas are calm
We will laugh and joke together
And I will see again your charm
Sunday, 9 May 2010
Farewell to my Muse ..
I am now empty
I am …
Yin without Yang
Strawberries without cream
Love without hate
Simon without Garfunkle
For … Late last night I caught my Muse packing his bags
I pleaded
I begged
Even got down on my hands and knees
All to no avail
Muse was adamant
Had had enough
Enough of what?
I asked
Enough of me he replied
I was struck dumb
What had I done?
What had I done?
Muse then sat me down
Like a naughty child
And gently began to explain to me
The reasons why he was leaving
With tears streaming down my face
I picked up my ever present pad
And noted them down
1) Delusions of grandeur
2) Inability to express thoughts/ideas coherently
3) Vulgar language for no apparent reason
4) Nonsensical political/social points of view
5) Outright refusal to listen
Even as I sat there listening
I knew Muse was telling me the truth
I do not think that he really wanted to go
But ..
To be honest
I had become such an embarrassment
To his ancestry
To the concept
That he had no choice
But to go
After I waved him goodbye
I went and sat in the fire chair
And thought to myself
Fool
We had kicked around together
For such a long time
It was just my own pure selfishness
That drove him away
Why did I not listen to him?
Take note of his wise words of wisdom?
After all he was my Muse
He was there for me
For me
Not for anyone else
For me …
God damn me
God damn me
God damn me
I have now seen the error of my ways
I am now packed
I am now ready
I am ready
To begin my own personal journey
To reclaim my Muse
To bring him back
Where he belongs
To bring him back to
ME
"O Muses, O high genius, aid me now!
O memory that engraved the things I saw,
Here shall your worth be manifest to all!"
Dante Alighieri, in Canto II of The Inferno
I am …
Yin without Yang
Strawberries without cream
Love without hate
Simon without Garfunkle
For … Late last night I caught my Muse packing his bags
I pleaded
I begged
Even got down on my hands and knees
All to no avail
Muse was adamant
Had had enough
Enough of what?
I asked
Enough of me he replied
I was struck dumb
What had I done?
What had I done?
Muse then sat me down
Like a naughty child
And gently began to explain to me
The reasons why he was leaving
With tears streaming down my face
I picked up my ever present pad
And noted them down
1) Delusions of grandeur
2) Inability to express thoughts/ideas coherently
3) Vulgar language for no apparent reason
4) Nonsensical political/social points of view
5) Outright refusal to listen
Even as I sat there listening
I knew Muse was telling me the truth
I do not think that he really wanted to go
But ..
To be honest
I had become such an embarrassment
To his ancestry
To the concept
That he had no choice
But to go
After I waved him goodbye
I went and sat in the fire chair
And thought to myself
Fool
We had kicked around together
For such a long time
It was just my own pure selfishness
That drove him away
Why did I not listen to him?
Take note of his wise words of wisdom?
After all he was my Muse
He was there for me
For me
Not for anyone else
For me …
God damn me
God damn me
God damn me
I have now seen the error of my ways
I am now packed
I am now ready
I am ready
To begin my own personal journey
To reclaim my Muse
To bring him back
Where he belongs
To bring him back to
ME
"O Muses, O high genius, aid me now!
O memory that engraved the things I saw,
Here shall your worth be manifest to all!"
Dante Alighieri, in Canto II of The Inferno
But still you stay ...
I watch your resentment
I watch your hate
Our empty existence
Is hard to negate
You say I’m a bully
You say I’m a cunt
No prizes here
Darling
This knife’s never blunt
But still you stay …
I destroyed your life
From the moment we met
Before me you
Stand
Now a man of regret
Once in my arms
Your soul was submersed
Now alone in our history
You’re driving
The
Hearse
But still you stay …
Kept you away from your kith and kin
Indulged your repression with cardinal sin
Parallel existence out there somewhere
Conformity’s cute
When it’s with
People that care
Dare
You
Fucked up your head
Fucked up your brain
Made you succumb
Over and over again
But still you stay …
No rules for me
I’m tough and I’m driven
The darkness of life
To me is a given
But you
On your pedestal high in the sky
Will quiver
Will quake
Will never defy
I am blamed for your weakness
Your inability to act
This futile foible
Will forever protract
But still you stay …
So I bade you farewell
And alter this course
Our race is now over
I want a divorce
Goodbye …
I watch your hate
Our empty existence
Is hard to negate
You say I’m a bully
You say I’m a cunt
No prizes here
Darling
This knife’s never blunt
But still you stay …
I destroyed your life
From the moment we met
Before me you
Stand
Now a man of regret
Once in my arms
Your soul was submersed
Now alone in our history
You’re driving
The
Hearse
But still you stay …
Kept you away from your kith and kin
Indulged your repression with cardinal sin
Parallel existence out there somewhere
Conformity’s cute
When it’s with
People that care
Dare
You
Fucked up your head
Fucked up your brain
Made you succumb
Over and over again
But still you stay …
No rules for me
I’m tough and I’m driven
The darkness of life
To me is a given
But you
On your pedestal high in the sky
Will quiver
Will quake
Will never defy
I am blamed for your weakness
Your inability to act
This futile foible
Will forever protract
But still you stay …
So I bade you farewell
And alter this course
Our race is now over
I want a divorce
Goodbye …
Pops
We buried Pops in
his
Sunday Best
On that wet
November morn
I stood there in
MY
Sunday Best
Shattered
Tattered
Torn
“Private Viewing” an hour before
In the tawdry “Chapel of Hope”
He looked real queer
In all his gear
As I stood there all forlorn
The shuffling crowd
Never knew the man
Lying here
In State
To them he was just family
To me
He was
My mate
Or so I thought
Until I caught
The eye
Of his First Born
Hanging back
Discreetly
Face
All weathered and worn
Long forgotten memories
Bubbled up
From my dim and distant past
The rows
The dogs
Mr Plod
Schizophrenia
Dictated this man’s stone
Was duly cast
Out he went
Into
A world
Where no-one ever cared
Left behind
His family
Frightened
Embarrassed
Scared
I watched this man
So lonely
With his eyes
Fixed on the floor
Whilst
The family
Just ignored him
Behaviour
That I simply
Do abhor
So I wandered over
Slowly
Stretching out my
Hand
He raised his head
And looked
At me
United we did stand
I smiled at him gently
His pain
I could not deny
We held our hands together
And bade our Pops goodbye
Families are an unpredictable breed
Often trapped between want and need
Some are cast out
Some are cast in
Never quite knowing
When the story begins
I decided a long time ago
To opt out of the family
And go with the flow
All except Pops
For he was my rock
Kept my feet on the ground
My shield from life’s knocks
So I pledge this ode to the one man that cared
And will always honour the times that we shared
his
Sunday Best
On that wet
November morn
I stood there in
MY
Sunday Best
Shattered
Tattered
Torn
“Private Viewing” an hour before
In the tawdry “Chapel of Hope”
He looked real queer
In all his gear
As I stood there all forlorn
The shuffling crowd
Never knew the man
Lying here
In State
To them he was just family
To me
He was
My mate
Or so I thought
Until I caught
The eye
Of his First Born
Hanging back
Discreetly
Face
All weathered and worn
Long forgotten memories
Bubbled up
From my dim and distant past
The rows
The dogs
Mr Plod
Schizophrenia
Dictated this man’s stone
Was duly cast
Out he went
Into
A world
Where no-one ever cared
Left behind
His family
Frightened
Embarrassed
Scared
I watched this man
So lonely
With his eyes
Fixed on the floor
Whilst
The family
Just ignored him
Behaviour
That I simply
Do abhor
So I wandered over
Slowly
Stretching out my
Hand
He raised his head
And looked
At me
United we did stand
I smiled at him gently
His pain
I could not deny
We held our hands together
And bade our Pops goodbye
Families are an unpredictable breed
Often trapped between want and need
Some are cast out
Some are cast in
Never quite knowing
When the story begins
I decided a long time ago
To opt out of the family
And go with the flow
All except Pops
For he was my rock
Kept my feet on the ground
My shield from life’s knocks
So I pledge this ode to the one man that cared
And will always honour the times that we shared
ROT IN HELL YOU WICKED EVIL MAN
Rob the Nob’s an ignorant man
Ill educated
Illiterate
A
chancer’s dripping pan
The day he fell in lust with a Roman Catholic whore
He entrapped her as his prisoner
So men could not gaze at her no more
Within a month
A life was spawned
Up the aisle they did flee
This is
my friend
Just the start
Of the
???????? dynasty
Deserted by their families
Cast out
To breed alone
Rob was dictatorial
A king upon his throne
No longer would she work for Smedleys up the road
Her life to now be governed by her husband’s crazy code
First came a boy “1”
Followed by a girl “2”
Followed by a girl “3”
Followed by a girl “4”
Followed by a girl “5”
Followed by a boy “6”
Followed by a boy “7”
Now “I” stand in this pecking order
somewhere at the top
The inheritance of madness
Nobody can stop
The boys were brainwashed daily
Taunted with being gay
Withdrawal kicked in very quick
And with them it did stay
The girls were whores and sluts
Irrespective of attire
Educated so very young to
Suppress
all natural desires
After the birth of the firstborn
Rob decided to no longer work
His job was in the house now
In shadows he would lurk
Rules and regulations
Beaten with a stick
Quite an achievement really
FOR A MAN SO FUCKING THICK
Do you remember No1?
How you practised with your fists
Smashed his fucking head in
Til he was shrouded in a mist
He wore 4 jumpers every day
Because you told him he was puny
Are you proud of your inheritance?
You raving fucking loony
Note: No1’s best friend turned out to be a paedophile
but that’s a whole new chapter
Do you remember No2?
What happened when she was seven?
I don’t know what’s wrong or right
The truth lies in the vaults of heaven
She cut a blackbird’s head off
And danced with manic glee
You created all of us
One great big fucked up family
Proud?
Note: No2 ended her marriage after falling in love with
her 15 year old baby sitter
Do you remember No3?
How you decided she was loose
So she crawled inside a bottle
of alcoholic juice
Every day she went out thieving
just to feed her habit
Rob do you remember the day that
you made her eat her rabbit?
Could not put down roots
So roamed from town to town
Keeping her head above the sewer
For fear that she might drown
Note: No3 is happy and leaves the past in the past where
it belongs ... for now
Do you remember No4?
That must have been some job
for her to have been sectioned so many times
When you stand before your maker
Will you admit
to all of your crimes?
Or will you shrivel up?
Try to pass the buck?
Well … listen up here Rob
You’re running out of fucking luck
Note: No4 is now living with another fellow loony and
trying to normalise her existence
Do you remember No5
The girl now thinks that every man is a paedophile
Can you imagine anything that really is more vile?
You turned the girl into a cunning compulsive liar
Lost forever behind the shield of the constant surface fire
Are you proud of all your children?
Does your heart not swell with pride?
Is this what you envisaged?
On that day you took your bride
Note: No5 is on the lookout for a rich farmer to impregnate
her so that she can live of off his money
Do you remember No6
Oh yes, of course, he lives on the same estate
But he won’t give you the time of day
Is it time yet to contemplate?
He keeps his family separate
Tries to keep them pure
Antidote was easy
Separation from you was this man’s cure
Feeling any guilt yet?
Shame for what you’ve done?
Or do you still think that we are all bastards
Each and every one
Note: No6 lives on happily with his family and has
had no contact for 15 years ... for now
Do you remember No7
The 7th child of the 7th child
Now where do I begin?
Fed him sweets and biscuits
Smirking with that evil grin
Kicked him out the house all day
Come the rain or shine
No wonder that he ended up
With a mind that’s much maligned
Paranoid
Delusional
This man was surely worth a punt?
But not by you
Apparently
You
Fucked up fucking cunt
Note: No7 continues trying to slay the dragon and is more
grounded due to the love of his son
So fuck you Rob and fuck your ways
I will hate you til the end of days
You had no right to fuck up the lives
Of your children
Or your whore of a wife
And when you die
When the time is right
When Beelzebub has you in his sight
That’s the point the cork will blow
Time slows down and you will know
Your wicked ways were not a given
You will never ever be forgiven
Into the bowels of hell you’ll burn
To late for lessons to be learned
ROT IN HELL YOU WICKED EVIL MAN
ROT IN HELL YOU WICKED EVIL MAN
ROT IN HELL YOU WICKED EVIL MAN
Ill educated
Illiterate
A
chancer’s dripping pan
The day he fell in lust with a Roman Catholic whore
He entrapped her as his prisoner
So men could not gaze at her no more
Within a month
A life was spawned
Up the aisle they did flee
This is
my friend
Just the start
Of the
???????? dynasty
Deserted by their families
Cast out
To breed alone
Rob was dictatorial
A king upon his throne
No longer would she work for Smedleys up the road
Her life to now be governed by her husband’s crazy code
First came a boy “1”
Followed by a girl “2”
Followed by a girl “3”
Followed by a girl “4”
Followed by a girl “5”
Followed by a boy “6”
Followed by a boy “7”
Now “I” stand in this pecking order
somewhere at the top
The inheritance of madness
Nobody can stop
The boys were brainwashed daily
Taunted with being gay
Withdrawal kicked in very quick
And with them it did stay
The girls were whores and sluts
Irrespective of attire
Educated so very young to
Suppress
all natural desires
After the birth of the firstborn
Rob decided to no longer work
His job was in the house now
In shadows he would lurk
Rules and regulations
Beaten with a stick
Quite an achievement really
FOR A MAN SO FUCKING THICK
Do you remember No1?
How you practised with your fists
Smashed his fucking head in
Til he was shrouded in a mist
He wore 4 jumpers every day
Because you told him he was puny
Are you proud of your inheritance?
You raving fucking loony
Note: No1’s best friend turned out to be a paedophile
but that’s a whole new chapter
Do you remember No2?
What happened when she was seven?
I don’t know what’s wrong or right
The truth lies in the vaults of heaven
She cut a blackbird’s head off
And danced with manic glee
You created all of us
One great big fucked up family
Proud?
Note: No2 ended her marriage after falling in love with
her 15 year old baby sitter
Do you remember No3?
How you decided she was loose
So she crawled inside a bottle
of alcoholic juice
Every day she went out thieving
just to feed her habit
Rob do you remember the day that
you made her eat her rabbit?
Could not put down roots
So roamed from town to town
Keeping her head above the sewer
For fear that she might drown
Note: No3 is happy and leaves the past in the past where
it belongs ... for now
Do you remember No4?
That must have been some job
for her to have been sectioned so many times
When you stand before your maker
Will you admit
to all of your crimes?
Or will you shrivel up?
Try to pass the buck?
Well … listen up here Rob
You’re running out of fucking luck
Note: No4 is now living with another fellow loony and
trying to normalise her existence
Do you remember No5
The girl now thinks that every man is a paedophile
Can you imagine anything that really is more vile?
You turned the girl into a cunning compulsive liar
Lost forever behind the shield of the constant surface fire
Are you proud of all your children?
Does your heart not swell with pride?
Is this what you envisaged?
On that day you took your bride
Note: No5 is on the lookout for a rich farmer to impregnate
her so that she can live of off his money
Do you remember No6
Oh yes, of course, he lives on the same estate
But he won’t give you the time of day
Is it time yet to contemplate?
He keeps his family separate
Tries to keep them pure
Antidote was easy
Separation from you was this man’s cure
Feeling any guilt yet?
Shame for what you’ve done?
Or do you still think that we are all bastards
Each and every one
Note: No6 lives on happily with his family and has
had no contact for 15 years ... for now
Do you remember No7
The 7th child of the 7th child
Now where do I begin?
Fed him sweets and biscuits
Smirking with that evil grin
Kicked him out the house all day
Come the rain or shine
No wonder that he ended up
With a mind that’s much maligned
Paranoid
Delusional
This man was surely worth a punt?
But not by you
Apparently
You
Fucked up fucking cunt
Note: No7 continues trying to slay the dragon and is more
grounded due to the love of his son
So fuck you Rob and fuck your ways
I will hate you til the end of days
You had no right to fuck up the lives
Of your children
Or your whore of a wife
And when you die
When the time is right
When Beelzebub has you in his sight
That’s the point the cork will blow
Time slows down and you will know
Your wicked ways were not a given
You will never ever be forgiven
Into the bowels of hell you’ll burn
To late for lessons to be learned
ROT IN HELL YOU WICKED EVIL MAN
ROT IN HELL YOU WICKED EVIL MAN
ROT IN HELL YOU WICKED EVIL MAN
ONE LIFE - LIVE IT
Small minded bitch
From a small minded town
Peddles her poison
Then watches you drown
Drown in her gossip
The chit
And the chat
Blackens your name
In silent combat
Combat your chances
Of speaking the truth
Labelled by folk
As being uncouth
Uncouth and sullied
No Time For You
Worked it out yet?
Unravelled the clue?
Clue’s in the poison
From the small minded bitch
The witch with the curtains
That
Frequently twitch
Don’t listen to gossip
Free up your mind
And it will reveal
We are one of a kind
Kind that will ride
On the cusp of a wave
The real YOU is out there
Just waiting
Be brave
Brave is for folk
That need to depart
Folk that are more
Than the sum of their parts
Take a leap of faith
Break out from the mold
Life is here to be lived
And must not be controlled
Q - Sometimes in life it is easier to stay in a situation
but you need to ask yourself WHY
A - Fear of the unknown is a powerful and often
scary enough reason to make folk stay
There are no dress rehearsals in life my friend
ONE LIFE - LIVE IT
Live it
Breathe it
Taste it
Touch it
Feel it,
ONE LIFE - LIVE IT
From a small minded town
Peddles her poison
Then watches you drown
Drown in her gossip
The chit
And the chat
Blackens your name
In silent combat
Combat your chances
Of speaking the truth
Labelled by folk
As being uncouth
Uncouth and sullied
No Time For You
Worked it out yet?
Unravelled the clue?
Clue’s in the poison
From the small minded bitch
The witch with the curtains
That
Frequently twitch
Don’t listen to gossip
Free up your mind
And it will reveal
We are one of a kind
Kind that will ride
On the cusp of a wave
The real YOU is out there
Just waiting
Be brave
Brave is for folk
That need to depart
Folk that are more
Than the sum of their parts
Take a leap of faith
Break out from the mold
Life is here to be lived
And must not be controlled
Q - Sometimes in life it is easier to stay in a situation
but you need to ask yourself WHY
A - Fear of the unknown is a powerful and often
scary enough reason to make folk stay
There are no dress rehearsals in life my friend
ONE LIFE - LIVE IT
Live it
Breathe it
Taste it
Touch it
Feel it,
ONE LIFE - LIVE IT
Sunday, 11 April 2010
The Girl
The Girl was in hiding from her demons. They had taken up residency after a very successful coup d’état in the early spring of this year. The unsavoury usurpers had subscribed to strategy and tactics in order to consolidate and then take control of the Girl’s liberty and free will. Her acquiescence was the final battle fought out in the sanatorium of her already fragile mind. The demons were now the guardians of the Girl’s existence and they ruled their subject with a tyranny that was biblical in proportion.
The catalyst for these events had begun the previous summer. On that fateful day the wheels were put in motion and very slowly began to gently rock and roll. The demons began a full out campaign to recruit extra soldiers for the task in hand. Legions lined up in full combat gear; ready to be discharged at a moments notice. Camps were set up in a variety of secret locations within the Girl. Operational manoeuvres discussed on a daily basis as to the best way to secure and capture the enemy.
Prior to these events the Girl was wild and fancy free. Not a damn care in the world. Life was an unchartered adventure waiting to be explored. The Girl exuded a joie de vivre that was infectious to all she came into contact with. She loved life and embraced it fully at any opportunity that presented itself. The Girl was confident without being conceited and optimistic without out being foolish. She was creative in the arts and excelled at her studies with a natural god given talent. The girl had an enviable large circle of friends.
Unbeknownst to the Girl though there were dark forces at play which would be detrimental to her very being.
The Girl needed a dress to wear to a party that night. It was a house party that a friend of a friend was putting on. The friend’s ignorant parents had gone away for a few days and left him home alone. He was a quiet and studious boy who was desperate for something anything to happen that might make him feel just a little bit alive. He was the only child of much older parents who had unwittingly smothered him with love and affection. He yearned to escape from their sensible claw like clutches. The boy’s craving for life was abundantly clear to all who met him. Palpable would probably describe him best. So you can understand how easy it was for his peers to coerce him into having a free for all party that night at his parent’s house. As often happens with the case though, before he knew it anyone who was anyone had invited themselves along; including the Girl.
The Girl had no money but that was nothing new. Quite often she had to pop into town to acquire something or other. The Girl had no qualms whatsoever about shoplifting. No-one ever suspected her because of her effervescent charm. You would not believe what this Girl managed to ferret away in her oversized bag. The Girl’s upbringing was unconventional to say the least but that’s a story for another day. Well just say that she lived deep in the darkest bowels of the countryside with her crazy family.
The nearest big town that had any decent clothes shops was some 20 miles away. So…The Girl had to resort to the tried and tested method of hitchhiking. This was not a problem because the Girl had been doing this for years, admittingly with friends most of the time but also occasionally by herself. There had been a few scary moments through the years but nothing too bad that the Girl and her friends wouldn’t be giggling about later.
…
So with the sun beating down on her she set off over the corn fields to the nearest main road some 2 miles away. It was late summer and as she walked along she gouged herself on the wild strawberries which grew in abundance along the hedgerow. The oppressive heat of the summer was finally drawing to a close. Humidity had been given a one way ticket out of town. Air was starting to purify. Today was an introduction for mankind to start breathing again. Life was wonderful she thought to herself as she finally got to the main road
The girl was conservative in her dress. Experiences early on in life had taught her that some men were not quite how they appeared. The girl could sense which men tried to suppress these unnatural thoughts. She could see the hidden monsters lurking in the shadows. The girl knew that these monsters were salivating at the thought of being unleashed. The girl was always guarded.
It didn’t take long before a car pulled over. The Girl got in. Silently and softly the car door shut. The girl was happy. It had only taken her a few minutes before the kind man had pulled over to give her a lift. Today was going to be good.
The kind man was conservative in his dress. Experiences early on in his life had taught him to covert his inner self. He kept that part of himself in a special box. No-one ever got to see what was inside the box. It was only bought out on very special occasions. The kind man had perfected the art of illusion over many years. The kind man was always guarded.
As soon as the Girl got into the car she sensed something wasn’t right. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was but all her instincts were screaming wildly together in unison to get out of the car. The Girl was confused because the kind man was busy chatting away to her about his wife and kids back home. Apparently he was on his way to an appointment in town with his bank manager; hoping to secure a loan in order to build an extension for his Mother-in–law who was coming to live with them in the new year. The Girl began to feel hot; she felt rivulets of perspiration trickling down her back. It was difficult to breathe. She needed to get out of the car and get out now. Her sixth sense had been whispering in her ear since she first got in the car; it was trying to warn her that she was in mortal danger. So she took a deep breath and very sweetly asked the kind man to pull over and let her out. The kind man didn’t hesitate and pulled over straight away into the next lay-by. The Girl was grateful that the journey was over. Her heart began to beat to its regular rhythm. As she leaned over to open the door she felt something pull her back into the seat…
The hazy heat of the sun was beginning to subdue in its intensity. The violent ravages that poured forth from its rays earlier were now starting to subside. A beautiful azure blue sky began to beckon with warm open arms. Shimmering distorted heat dissipated and vision reclaimed its birthright. The tyrannical brutal temperature of the summer had previously been a slave driver but was now finally redundant. Jobless. Empty. Devoid. Surplus to requirements. Birds were singing melodically in the trees and chirping away happily. Everything was calm and still and serene. The malady of the madness had moved on and found a new host to reside in.
The party was in full swing when the Girl turned up. Bee lined to the booze. Kept herself to herself and surveyed the unfolding mayhem. Drunken fuelled revelry assaulting her eyes wherever she looks in the room. The Girl is watching the boy as he is desperately trying to be a part of the scene he has somehow inadvertently orchestrated. His unformed little pigeon chest is swelling with pride. So bloody grateful. The drink has soothing qualities as its slides effortlessly down her throat. It makes her forget. She needs to forget. The Girl is detached. The Girl is dirty and needs to be cleansed. She continues to watch the boy and his pathetic eagerness to please the crowd and it is starting to annoy her. How can someone be so gullible? So naïve? So bloody desperate? So blind to the situation? He is both irritating and irksome in tandem. The Girl continues to drink. And drink. And drink.
The Girl formulates a plan and staggers off to the corner and waits hungrily. Hours pass and still the Girl waits. Her appetite is gaining momentum all the while. Eventually the party peters out and people start leaving the house. It is not long before they have all left. There is just the Girl and the boy in the house now. The Girl is very still. The Girl is waiting patiently. The boy does not know that the Girl is in the corner. He begins the unenviable task of tidying away the night before. He is happy. He is content. He feels as though he has arrived. He has waited so long for his moment he can hardly contain himself. The Girl then makes her move.
With passion intense the Girl silently slithers up behind the boy. She taps him gently on his shoulder. The boy is startled and turns around. The Girl then smashes him straight in his face with all the fury that has begun to poison and flow through her veins. Pounding and smashing and pounding his face until it is fresh, wet and dripping with crimson blood. The boy falls to his knees. He has wet his pants. What a loser. The boy’s fear is tangible. It excites the Girl. She looks at the weak specimen on the floor and feels nothing but contempt. He is having trouble breathing so she kicks him in the head over and over again. The boy has now curled up into the foetal position and is awaiting his fate. The Girl then picks up a nearby cushion and places it over his kind face. She presses down and holds it there securely. The boy’s legs are jerking underneath the Girl. The movements make the Girl laugh. It reminds her of one of the old Tom and Jerry cartoons she used to watch when she was a kid.
How can the boy be so weak?
How can the boy allow her to humiliate him?
Why isn’t he fighting back?
Eventually the boy’s legs stop jerking. He is now still. The Girl releases the cushion and surveys her work. The kind man is not moving. The boy is at peace. His little pigeon chest is as it should be. The Girl’s hunger is sated. She is calm and content. As she readies herself to leave the house she takes one last look at the boy on the floor. It crosses her mind that now the boy will be the star of his own show. Ironic really that he has acquired in death what he so desperately craved for in life. Recognition.
The cornfields have an almost spiritual quality to them in the first light of the morning. There is a beauty emitted from the corn that wraps itself around the Girl like a snuggle blanket. She draws comfort from its inner sanctum as she slowly walks home. The serenity of the open countryside permeates the Girl and stills her beating heart. She feels as though she is floating through the corn on a golden carriage flanked by angels sent from the heavens above. The angels have golden trumpets and are serenading the Girl the sweetest most beautiful chords she has ever heard. The Girl is floating effortlessly through the beauty and connects with the heartbeat of mother earth itself. They are as one. United together forever. The Girl has seen the light and willingly surrendered. Nothing can hurt the Girl ever again. Nothing.
The catalyst for these events had begun the previous summer. On that fateful day the wheels were put in motion and very slowly began to gently rock and roll. The demons began a full out campaign to recruit extra soldiers for the task in hand. Legions lined up in full combat gear; ready to be discharged at a moments notice. Camps were set up in a variety of secret locations within the Girl. Operational manoeuvres discussed on a daily basis as to the best way to secure and capture the enemy.
Prior to these events the Girl was wild and fancy free. Not a damn care in the world. Life was an unchartered adventure waiting to be explored. The Girl exuded a joie de vivre that was infectious to all she came into contact with. She loved life and embraced it fully at any opportunity that presented itself. The Girl was confident without being conceited and optimistic without out being foolish. She was creative in the arts and excelled at her studies with a natural god given talent. The girl had an enviable large circle of friends.
Unbeknownst to the Girl though there were dark forces at play which would be detrimental to her very being.
The Girl needed a dress to wear to a party that night. It was a house party that a friend of a friend was putting on. The friend’s ignorant parents had gone away for a few days and left him home alone. He was a quiet and studious boy who was desperate for something anything to happen that might make him feel just a little bit alive. He was the only child of much older parents who had unwittingly smothered him with love and affection. He yearned to escape from their sensible claw like clutches. The boy’s craving for life was abundantly clear to all who met him. Palpable would probably describe him best. So you can understand how easy it was for his peers to coerce him into having a free for all party that night at his parent’s house. As often happens with the case though, before he knew it anyone who was anyone had invited themselves along; including the Girl.
The Girl had no money but that was nothing new. Quite often she had to pop into town to acquire something or other. The Girl had no qualms whatsoever about shoplifting. No-one ever suspected her because of her effervescent charm. You would not believe what this Girl managed to ferret away in her oversized bag. The Girl’s upbringing was unconventional to say the least but that’s a story for another day. Well just say that she lived deep in the darkest bowels of the countryside with her crazy family.
The nearest big town that had any decent clothes shops was some 20 miles away. So…The Girl had to resort to the tried and tested method of hitchhiking. This was not a problem because the Girl had been doing this for years, admittingly with friends most of the time but also occasionally by herself. There had been a few scary moments through the years but nothing too bad that the Girl and her friends wouldn’t be giggling about later.
…
So with the sun beating down on her she set off over the corn fields to the nearest main road some 2 miles away. It was late summer and as she walked along she gouged herself on the wild strawberries which grew in abundance along the hedgerow. The oppressive heat of the summer was finally drawing to a close. Humidity had been given a one way ticket out of town. Air was starting to purify. Today was an introduction for mankind to start breathing again. Life was wonderful she thought to herself as she finally got to the main road
The girl was conservative in her dress. Experiences early on in life had taught her that some men were not quite how they appeared. The girl could sense which men tried to suppress these unnatural thoughts. She could see the hidden monsters lurking in the shadows. The girl knew that these monsters were salivating at the thought of being unleashed. The girl was always guarded.
It didn’t take long before a car pulled over. The Girl got in. Silently and softly the car door shut. The girl was happy. It had only taken her a few minutes before the kind man had pulled over to give her a lift. Today was going to be good.
The kind man was conservative in his dress. Experiences early on in his life had taught him to covert his inner self. He kept that part of himself in a special box. No-one ever got to see what was inside the box. It was only bought out on very special occasions. The kind man had perfected the art of illusion over many years. The kind man was always guarded.
As soon as the Girl got into the car she sensed something wasn’t right. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was but all her instincts were screaming wildly together in unison to get out of the car. The Girl was confused because the kind man was busy chatting away to her about his wife and kids back home. Apparently he was on his way to an appointment in town with his bank manager; hoping to secure a loan in order to build an extension for his Mother-in–law who was coming to live with them in the new year. The Girl began to feel hot; she felt rivulets of perspiration trickling down her back. It was difficult to breathe. She needed to get out of the car and get out now. Her sixth sense had been whispering in her ear since she first got in the car; it was trying to warn her that she was in mortal danger. So she took a deep breath and very sweetly asked the kind man to pull over and let her out. The kind man didn’t hesitate and pulled over straight away into the next lay-by. The Girl was grateful that the journey was over. Her heart began to beat to its regular rhythm. As she leaned over to open the door she felt something pull her back into the seat…
The hazy heat of the sun was beginning to subdue in its intensity. The violent ravages that poured forth from its rays earlier were now starting to subside. A beautiful azure blue sky began to beckon with warm open arms. Shimmering distorted heat dissipated and vision reclaimed its birthright. The tyrannical brutal temperature of the summer had previously been a slave driver but was now finally redundant. Jobless. Empty. Devoid. Surplus to requirements. Birds were singing melodically in the trees and chirping away happily. Everything was calm and still and serene. The malady of the madness had moved on and found a new host to reside in.
The party was in full swing when the Girl turned up. Bee lined to the booze. Kept herself to herself and surveyed the unfolding mayhem. Drunken fuelled revelry assaulting her eyes wherever she looks in the room. The Girl is watching the boy as he is desperately trying to be a part of the scene he has somehow inadvertently orchestrated. His unformed little pigeon chest is swelling with pride. So bloody grateful. The drink has soothing qualities as its slides effortlessly down her throat. It makes her forget. She needs to forget. The Girl is detached. The Girl is dirty and needs to be cleansed. She continues to watch the boy and his pathetic eagerness to please the crowd and it is starting to annoy her. How can someone be so gullible? So naïve? So bloody desperate? So blind to the situation? He is both irritating and irksome in tandem. The Girl continues to drink. And drink. And drink.
The Girl formulates a plan and staggers off to the corner and waits hungrily. Hours pass and still the Girl waits. Her appetite is gaining momentum all the while. Eventually the party peters out and people start leaving the house. It is not long before they have all left. There is just the Girl and the boy in the house now. The Girl is very still. The Girl is waiting patiently. The boy does not know that the Girl is in the corner. He begins the unenviable task of tidying away the night before. He is happy. He is content. He feels as though he has arrived. He has waited so long for his moment he can hardly contain himself. The Girl then makes her move.
With passion intense the Girl silently slithers up behind the boy. She taps him gently on his shoulder. The boy is startled and turns around. The Girl then smashes him straight in his face with all the fury that has begun to poison and flow through her veins. Pounding and smashing and pounding his face until it is fresh, wet and dripping with crimson blood. The boy falls to his knees. He has wet his pants. What a loser. The boy’s fear is tangible. It excites the Girl. She looks at the weak specimen on the floor and feels nothing but contempt. He is having trouble breathing so she kicks him in the head over and over again. The boy has now curled up into the foetal position and is awaiting his fate. The Girl then picks up a nearby cushion and places it over his kind face. She presses down and holds it there securely. The boy’s legs are jerking underneath the Girl. The movements make the Girl laugh. It reminds her of one of the old Tom and Jerry cartoons she used to watch when she was a kid.
How can the boy be so weak?
How can the boy allow her to humiliate him?
Why isn’t he fighting back?
Eventually the boy’s legs stop jerking. He is now still. The Girl releases the cushion and surveys her work. The kind man is not moving. The boy is at peace. His little pigeon chest is as it should be. The Girl’s hunger is sated. She is calm and content. As she readies herself to leave the house she takes one last look at the boy on the floor. It crosses her mind that now the boy will be the star of his own show. Ironic really that he has acquired in death what he so desperately craved for in life. Recognition.
The cornfields have an almost spiritual quality to them in the first light of the morning. There is a beauty emitted from the corn that wraps itself around the Girl like a snuggle blanket. She draws comfort from its inner sanctum as she slowly walks home. The serenity of the open countryside permeates the Girl and stills her beating heart. She feels as though she is floating through the corn on a golden carriage flanked by angels sent from the heavens above. The angels have golden trumpets and are serenading the Girl the sweetest most beautiful chords she has ever heard. The Girl is floating effortlessly through the beauty and connects with the heartbeat of mother earth itself. They are as one. United together forever. The Girl has seen the light and willingly surrendered. Nothing can hurt the Girl ever again. Nothing.
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