Tuesday, 31 May 2016
Guys scrunching their teeth as they pull the bar closer to their chest hoping the muscles would get bigger in no time flat, while the girls look cute, doing small weights, trying to keep firm, compact, and be like the present a somebody would want. With the occasional giggle added in for good measure.
Somewhere, on the other side of the tracks, are the pedaling people with towels over their shoulders, sweat dripping out from their ankles and wrists, perking their rears with that juicy jell-o still hanging about.
Muzzled within these "huffs", "nghngh" and "ahhh" lies that music you hear when you're drunk and about to pass out. Beneath that, the bucket of bolts assembled for human pain.
They say metal hurt. Yet we enjoy it so much.
Monday, 30 May 2016
"I'm actually not. I think I need a fix."
"You told you quit smoking a couple of days ago, but look at you now, shivering, looking all pale like you've been visited by the ghost of the future."
"Shut up. I know you like a cig now and then. Use one."
"You wanna watch me puff?"
"You for real?"
"Do it already."
"Ugh, it's like you don't know how to smoke at all. You're taking away the cool stuff about this thing and making it awkward and ugly. I've had boys tell me they don't like girls nicotinizing themselves. I can see why, now."
"Nicotinizing? Wow. But you've smoked with me before, you knew how I did it."
"Didn't pay as much attention as I am now. Blow some of that scent in my face."
"Do it already."
"Ahhh, I feel normal again."
Sunday, 29 May 2016
After I turned the first of five corners to get on the main street, I saw this queue formed in front of a house.
Initially I though it was only for people who were dressed sharp, but as I approached, there were guys with leather jackets, skinhead girls, tattooed people who didn't care if they showed. Pretty much all walks of life. I figured I could ask at least.
I stopped behind these two girls who looked like the type that go out to clubs every weekend to get drunk, with not a lot on, both on them and over them, with make-up that would make you take a step back.
"So, is this a party?"
"Nah. We're waiting for a line?"
"Yeah, you know..." and this blonde covers a nostril while sucking air with the other.
I turn my head sideways to at the other one, brunette.
"This line thing, you have it?"
"They're giving it for free."
"And all these people are waiting for it?"
Crazy is what I thought. I've done chalk lines on football fields before, but I'm pretty sure this is something different.
I think I'll postpone shopping.
Saturday, 28 May 2016
"Really? Nobody watches that show?"
"Hey, don't worry, mate. I'm sure I watch stuff that nobody watches."
"We're not talking about porn here."
"Everybody watches that."
"I don't," said one of the grade A student females in the class, a blonde with a slim model's body and a face that would make cover magazines if she was a celeb.
"You don't. You just make them."
A few laughs came about.
"That's right," she interrupted. "I make them. And you're not invited for my next one."
The guy turned beetroot as the one who didn't know the answer turned from one to the other.
"Well, I'm glad my class can have this kind of conversation. If only you knew the answers to my questions as fast."
Friday, 27 May 2016
It's not like the park is huge, but you can fit over four hundred people with ease, let them get thrashed with alcohol, and still have space.
Still, this one tree in a clean grassy patch is such a weird sight that tourists have been coming here. I asked one of them why.
"It's in the guide brochures."
"What do you think now that you're looking at it?"
Damn right. A regular oak tree that wouldn't stand out anywhere else but this place is in the tourist's guide book.
I wonder if whoever's in charge of this will want to make money somewhere down the line.
"Come one, come all, to see the 10th wonder of the world. The lonely tree, shivering with glee, at the incoming bee, wondering if it'll pee."
Okay, the last one needs some tuning, but I still wouldn't be surprised if they do this.
Thursday, 26 May 2016
I remember this one time when Mark was emptying his bowels after a long night drinking, and somehow, an orange scent came about, like someone was peeling that fruit around us, even though we were on the street, near chicken shops and chippies. The stench from those oil-using fast food making dime-costing places wasn't enough to overthrow the incoming citrus flavour.
I looked around to see where it might come from, using my nose to guide me like a dog is guided towards his meal, and I couldn't find it. Three alleyways passed, and there was no stopping it. I carried on until I could smell no more, and once that happened, I turned back, hoping for it to return, but it did not.
An orange peel zest came into my life on a whim, and escaped as fast, silencing my moment of amazement.
Whenever someone pukes, I always remember that scent making me go like the red string of fate, except it was cut short, like it wasn't meant to be. And I get sad.
Wednesday, 25 May 2016
He came alone, he didn't talk to anyone, but simply read stuff on his phone. He had the occasional burger at times, but other than that, he kept to himself.
We brought in DJays, and had people jump around, on tables, on chairs, on the bar counter at times, except for this guy. He would place himself in a corner somewhere, drink his pint carefully, and then go.
I don't know what he did to have fun, but it sure wasn't through music, dancing, girls, or whatnot. Some people are like that. And that's a shame.
Tuesday, 24 May 2016
The night out with the mates didn't go as planned and I didn't have anything to do, with sleep being out of question since...well, you always sleep, how about something different? They weren't up for that, it seems.
Yeah, bus stop bench cold as steel, even though it's plastic, sea breeze pumping every three seconds, sending down chills under my trousers; the protective glass wall that made the station wasn't rooted to the ground.
I looked to the front and saw clear skies overcoming the bleakness of the night. and I was hopeful I might see my first ever sunrise. I was getting excited, but that didn't shake the chill of the pier.
Behind me, the moon was in cahoots with the brighter cloud, playing "Guess the shape" while adding some orange-ish colour in the background, giving them the spotlight. Good old Moon, eh?
Then I made the mistake of asking Google when will the sun actually come up. Five o' clock. Ugh.
I spent an hour and a half in on my toes, doing the hippy-hippy-shake, trying not to curse the temperature too much, but once the skies lit in every part, and the white planet vanished, it was clear I couldn't see the Big Star come forth. Too much grey above. I had to go on my way, disappointed.
Until next time, right?
Monday, 23 May 2016
"Come on already."
"Let's go out."
"I told you I'm busy, didn't I?"
"That was so two hours ago."
"Yeah, and it's still not done."
"Screw the work. Let's have fun, okay?"
"Sure. Just not today."
"I hate you."
"I'm going out with my girls instead."
"Cool. Have fun."
"I'm going out the door right now."
Sunday, 22 May 2016
Damn running. I hate running and running events. I hate these healthy people by a large margin more so than I do with people that don't eat meat.
I'm a regular guy who drives a regular car through a regular big city, that has a regular run of the mill office job, and likes to get hammered regularly between Wednesday and Saturday, especially on Thursday and Friday, and I love that greasy, sleazy, non-herbal friendly sammy with bacon that does a hungover body all the good in the world. What do you have after a run, an ice pack?
Yeah, not the same thing.
People should stop being healthy.
Saturday, 21 May 2016
Friday, 20 May 2016
Thursday, 19 May 2016
"This album's dope."
"I listened through it and didn't find anything interesting."
"'Cause you're a dope, yo."
"If you keep talking smack, I'll smack you so silly you'll be talking in rhymes for a week."
"That would be dope. But you can't touch me since I'ma rope-a-dope your ass until you won't be able to do anything."
"You know, we always argue stupidly like this."
"Yeah. I like it. I've never had this with anyone."
"The day we'll stop talking like this will be day we'll split apart."
"That's what I'm sayin', buoyeee!"
Wednesday, 18 May 2016
Been three hours since and my phone hasn't been lit once. Dammit. I'll read.
Alright. I need a break from that book. After five hours, you tend to get hungry. Hmm...when's that call gonna happen? You'd expect people that want to hire you ring between 12 and 2. I hope they're late.
9 p.m.. Haven't done anything today other than read and watch movies. My phone wasn't used at all. I even checked to see if the signal failed, but no, it was fine. Guess they don't want me. Their loss. I feel like grabbing some ice cream right now. Comfort food at its best, one dollop at a time.
Tuesday, 17 May 2016
I figured I'd go out in shorts, something a bit rare in these parts.
It was fine for the first few hours, but as soon as I stepped inside this shopping mall, the clouds arrived. Ten minutes later and all I could hear on the glass was "toc, toc, toc, toc".
A sane person would grab a cab and head home, if their outing was finished. Me? I stayed in there until the night came, hoping the shower would die out. Well, it didn't.
It did not and I was cold, flustered, and annoyed at my wasted day when it started off so shiny.
Maybe that was a secret message from old red patch in the sky to no get cocky or hopeful in this place.
Monday, 16 May 2016
Nowadays, you're not allowed to smack women, let alone strangle them, in cartoon form that is, because it's not PG, because children will get the wrong message, because of some reason that nobody thinks of yet they include some vague description just for the hell of it.
I don't think the people that grew up in the '80s and '90s believed everything that happened on the screen should happen in real life.
People are more likely to get a brain problem from those around them, their language and behaviour, than from some fictitious characters, who, truthfully, leave impressions, but they are more good than bad.
The world is too cautious about what is and is not allowed, and its damaging everybody, whether they like it or not.
Sunday, 15 May 2016
"Is it still worth it?"
Bus trips, time wasted travelling, money spent on crap food, unneeded alcohol, sometimes paying for a last minute hotel stay. They take their toll after a while. Wallet, and mental.
You get it. You get a kick out of what you're doing. The audience, or a few from there, get the gist of what you're doing, too, and that makes you happy.
Those sacrifices will burn you out at some point. you'll end up in your cave, stay there for a while as you go to work sulking and not bothering to talk to anyone about it since they don't get you.
Once in a blue moon you get so distressed that you make a plan. "If I'm not there in x number of years, I'll quit." And what will you do once that calendar goes completely blank. You'll start eating more crap food, drink more, heck, even take a new vice for a change. Right? It's supposed to be a new you.
Then you get so bored that you try to get back to where you were, except that you're going to go about it differently.
Saturday, 14 May 2016
But there's this other thing I can do perfectly, and I see others coy when they are forced to go about it. And that's to be blunt.
People on the internet easily do this, although most do it with malice and for kicks, to which the term 'trolling' was invented.
To be fair, some are quite blunt, but on the phone or through an email rather than face to face.
Not that many want to be told they have been fired or dumped and have their expression change in front of others.
Also, being bad is easy, and taking the easy way is not the best at all times.
Ten yeses barely outdo one no. A terrible thing to have.
Friday, 13 May 2016
I miss out on plenty of sights, nature, and living beings.
Then this one song played a verse in my eardrums. "Look up and glance around. See the beauty abound." So I did.
People wearing ripped jeans or skin-tight trousers waltzed past me, having t-shirts with various political or sport logos, making me wonder why they would be willing to wear someone else's message for free. Their frilly haircuts, either curly hair made to look like a pony had run rampage through their scalp, or gone barren on one side, raised like a bridge on the other, perhaps in sign of protest for losing their brain cells through the telly.
I would rather look at the cobblestone and dream a world with smiles and simplicity, than a world with smirks and smugness.
Thursday, 12 May 2016
"Now!" the other carried on.
He still had the blade near his neck, only he was wondering why two police officers were in his flat. 'She didn't yell that loudly, and I had my palm over her mouth, so why are they here?"
"Come on. You've already killed one person. There's no point in killing another one."
"But there is. Stay back or I'm gonna plunge this straight in."
The other copper takes one step forward, to spite the man, who, upon seeing that, took to crawling away from them, near the corner of the one-bedroom place.
"If you-" He didn't have to finish as both of them advanced, and let out a scream as his head dropped on the floor.
Hastily, the service men approached him, and when one turned the person over, the knife bludgeoned him in the artery. The hand that did it grabbed the knife back and stuck it in the heart. Twice.
The other officer panicked, and was on his way out when the blade stuck him in the nape.
Both were rendered immobile.
He looked at them, then at the woman.
"If only you didn't want to dump me. Now who knows what's going to happen. It's on you."
Wednesday, 11 May 2016
He was looking from a few feet away, trying to be calm, composed, to keep his sanity.
Then he glanced at his hands and a grin appeared.
"I told you I loved you, but you didn't believe me. I didn't want you to go. Now you'll forever stay with me. I hope you'll like that. I know I will. I will..."
He stops as he notices the knife trying to come out. He pulls it away with his right hand.
The blood sullenly falling on the floor, then his clothes, while the blade approached his throat once more.
"I guess it was meant to be."
He closed his eyes and heard a bang. He opened them. Another bang.
The door came undone and two men stepped inside.
Tuesday, 10 May 2016
"No, I don't."
He places the knife over his neck, closes his eyes, and presses it against his jugular.
As he's trying wind it to the right, he pops open one eyelid and notices that she's standing off, not showing any emotion on her face.
"Oh, I see. So you really don't care about me, despite me saying that I love you and I want you to stay by my side."
"I figured you weren't serious."
"I was. I was also expecting you to come to my arms and stop me from slashing it."
"Not gonna happen."
"I see that now. Guess I only have one solution."
He takes steps towards her while her irises increase. She doesn't know what to do.
"What are you-"
Too late for her finishing that sentence as he drove the chef's weapon firmly in the side of her throat.
Somehow spastic, she screams louder than her body could have thought possible.
He grabs the knife, takes it out, and starts hacking at her heart with his palm over her mouth until she keels over.
Monday, 9 May 2016
"It's late for that, don't you think?"
"I still hope I can change your mind."
"You've been having chances for over a week."
"I know. I'm weak. I tend to wait longer to act. You should know that."
"Guess why I'm leaving."
"Just for that?"
"No. You're a lazy man who doesn't seem to want to move his ass for anything. Not even for me. I'm disappointed. Don't think that this pathetic act your pulling on right now is doing something."
"You think I'm pathetic? But...but...I love you. I want you to stay by my side forever."
"And do what? Live on peas and crackers? I want to go out and have fun. I want to see the world, not the same four walls every fuckin' day. You understand that, right?"
"I suppose so. Yeah. It's my fault I lost my job in the first place. I simply wanted to spend more time with you. Was that wrong? Selfish?"
"It was wrong since you can't provide for me any longer. I want a man who can bring me flowers from time to time."
"Bring me those air fresheners with a flower scent? Great. It's like the real thing for you, huh?"
"If you take one step forward, I'll kill myself."
"I don't believe you."
Sunday, 8 May 2016
However, that's not the interesting bit.
I passed by this guy who had four bags of crisps in his hand. Everybody would have a carrier bag, for convenience sake. But no, not him.
I looked at his face, and hidden under all over the place stubble were a pair of bags under his half-risen eyes, while his lips had cracks that would make canyons crumble more. Despite his look, he was walking like any other person, therefore, either he had come from work, or he was going to an after party where he would probably sleep upon arrival.
Although that question loomed for a little bit, the following one was there for the next five minutes. What kind of person doesn't buy a carrier bag to keep his stuff nice and out of sight?
Saturday, 7 May 2016
Friday, 6 May 2016
I tried to play along with my finger, but I think I gave the impression of a disco dad on too many pints.
Hoping she didn't see me, I counted down some random numbers, and the second her eyesight wasn't on me, I walked. Maybe it was the euphoria of this place, maybe from the dance, but I felt I could walk properly for the first time since the accident, so I sped up considerably. Imagine a snail suddenly being planted on a skateboard that is being driven with only one foot every three regular steps. A sudden kick-me-up, right? I thought so too.
Unfortunately, as I reached the door, I felt a hand against my shoulder.
"Am I that boring?"
Cripes. What do you say in that situation?
"No," I say as I rotate my head to the side, barely glimpsing her. "I didn't want to embarrass you any longer."
"Is that your real reason?"
"Thought so. You gonna show your face here again?"
"When I'm healthy."
"Less than a month."
"We'll see. Off you go."
I wanted to ask her why she was adamant about me. She didn't seem drunk or high. I can't be bothered to think about it right now. Home is my destination.
Thursday, 5 May 2016
"Come on, baby, no time to be shy."
Yeah, you could tell me that if I wasn't injured, and even then I'd still be neurotic about steps.
The song switched as we just about arrived on a particular shiny area. It went from giddy to sensual.
As such, she gently put her left hand on my right hip, slightly below my sling, then toyed around with her right while I stood there like a less effective scarecrow.
She moved slowly from the front to the back, keeping her hands on me.
Now she's, and I'm guessing as I can't turn around, swooning her ass against mine, moving up and down, eventually having her back against my ass as her fingertips cross below my equator. Speaking of which, I think it'll increase it's length soon.
Now she's moving up and has her fingers on my back for a second. I try to feel or hear something, but nothing. I somehow turn like a robot, and see her dancing with herself, having one hand on her hair, and the other's fingernail in her mouth as her hips go wild.
Why am I injured now? I can only go crazy in my head and that's not a safe place to be crazy in. So I'd rather go than become a massive dick.
Wednesday, 4 May 2016
"I've noticed you and your open shoes. I wondered how you got inside, but then I remember there's nobody there. Anybody off the streets can come in, huh? What brings you here?"
That was really fuckin' smooth on your part. Not only did I feel like shit coming in here, but now I only want to get out asap.
"People seemed to have fun inside and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about."
"Like this kind of dancing?"
"I haven't seen it in my life."
"Supposed to be tango, but everyone's doing some variation of their own."
"Are you an expert or something?"
"Kinda. You a total amateur in general?"
"I know the two-step."
"Right step to the side, back in again?"
"How'd you guess?"
"You came over to talk smack to me and have a good day?"
"Oh, honey, if you think that was smack talk, you're naive. As for me having a good day, that's not really the case. How about we dance?"
"I'm injured in case you don't see."
"That's alright. I can work you over."
Tuesday, 3 May 2016
I'm in, and there are the classic mamacitas, some with tight skirts, dresses, blouses, others in flowery patterns with tight cuts over their right thighs. I'm breathing heavy already.
The guys...who cares about these macho wannabe wankers anyway?
It's a shame I don't have any money as I would've grabbed a pint. Damn!
I think this scene is typical of every joint. Girls sitting together at tables, trying to take their time on fancy cocktails while their friends sip gently on the g&t's and v&c's, all the while expecting to be courted to the dance floor by some lame-brained greasy-haired beady-eyed unshaven wannabe stud.
It's funny, in a way. We've evolved as a human species, or that's what I'd like to think, and we still do dating and going out the old fashioned way.
I turn around. My mouth opens as my train of thought floats into the wilderness.
Monday, 2 May 2016
Some people came at me after watching me hobble in my mom's skewered pink shoes, arm in a cast, and puffy face. They asked if I was someone famous. I said I was in the papers recently. We took pictures.
Ah, to be unique-looking and get attraction for not having any talent...hmm
Even though the night had not started yet, I passed by this club where everyone was dancing some sensual stuff. I hadn't seen anything like it. I figured I'd go in to see what the hullabaloo was.
No bouncer at the door? No problem.
Sunday, 1 May 2016
The smell in this place has gotten so stale that blue cheese would like to ring me up. Shame mom doesn't have a phone here.
I really need to go outside.
Hmm... I'm sure she won't mind...actually, she will, just that I don't care anymore.
I have to find me a pair of scissors, which are...in the third small drawer in the kitchen, of course. It wouldn't be anywhere else.
Moving on, she has pink wears. Why pink? Purple wouldn't look bad. Neither would brown or black. She must've lost the plot some time ago. Come to think of it, her clothes are rainbow-colored. How long has this been going on?
Regardless, I don't have time to dwiddle-dawdle. I'll take any pair, since they look alike.
Snip here, snip there, and now I can...fit my foot inside. I'll look like a bum when I go out, but that's something I have to live with. Hopefully, no cop will arrest me.