Book, the Armageddon

Burning tobacco, kept on lips no fingers. Burning, the smoke, going in all the rooms. Pick two to brood

in. Days are stitched together for me, so that, I wont miss the other days, that are kept outside. I can

watch the sun here, and see it all go. Got lots of sleep, feet are dragged off the bed, and I'm piled on the

ground.

I've fought again, that's it that women, is ready, again. I'm asking to see her go.

She should know Hindi. She should awaken

But I was so terrified, I jumped on my bike, and roared, off, knowing that clapper, kept calling demon, asked me to help, and I said, I could, but then, I couldn't deal with it, anymore, all of Them went for me, must have given him a break.

Until he left it all up to me. Fucking scared. It's a bird-demon.

I thought at first,  she doesn't want to say what she meant, that you are sweet, she says nuts.

listen, I stayed for some time with my hand placed over her head, that's comfortable, a palm on the top of her head... 

There are grades of Black, if you're blind you can't see.

It's the smell you couldn't wash off your hands, it's a mixture of putty and vomit...It sent me dizzy sick. SO ban it...

 I let out fireballs from my fingers, that's why I heard fire, while I'm dizzy in the aisles, dead, dead, and she dies, that bad thing. Catching at my feet, in the shopping aisles, I wont take a thing, not a thing...

One compass, two routes out, ten million backways. Some old scoot, leveling barbed fences in ten mile radius, where I walk less. Two minutes for milk.  Way out of smoking room, what way out to air. Keep 6 foot of smoke in lesser window, open two three inches, no way to cope. Not to escape the smoke,

I was a deadly waspy yellow tentacle, body form like lizard wasp, back here and from here. Out there, back here. I wanna go out, ain't back here. Got to go.

Schockolate

Recycled

I said, you don't love her... from the bus?? the girl that said, I love you, and heard me cry, in my coat, because I feared evil and she was taller than me, and I need, that awful image of us, arriving at this house, with bendy legs and messy hair and heavy bags, actually, salivating, spitting and dribbling,  foaming at the mouth as I screamed in the hallway; which made me fear God..."squash his head!"...see, I've dumped trying to listen. There is a maze function to the build of the place. There is an L-shape. 

Recycled and thrown

 be lazy, play cards.Grabbed one blue deck, started to count if it was a full deck. Played a magic trick. I was singing the numbers over, and flicking through quickly...something happened:God, began playing me the cards, the next cards, flashed at a quick speed, quicker than I can move or think, the numbers on each card, in the corners, changed,†

†I froze;The cards played out weretwo reds, each the number 9,then one black;number eight...I started laughing loudly in the corner of the room, on the sofa...I played the†next lot of cards, a red pack...Nine consecutive, red†cards flashed through my hands, each number was a 6.

I shuffled the cards back together, I wasnt going to be outdone by God;I played one9 of hearts; every maid give love.8 of clubs, every good man fight.I stared at the black queen of clubs;"Just one, just one..."

I'm making tea in the hospital kitchen.There is an interesting shelf in the common room. I've taken away a jigsaw box, and the playing cards, the books aren't interesting to me. 

recycle

They wanted to kill me in the smoking room, still i let them kill.†I need to have a bath. 

Throwaway

Add the Spaatz, add the slick thin suits, with a little black and white check patterns, the leather cord around the head, and a When I arrived I was in a circle. I fell on the floor, and crumpled. I would like to say I touched the ground like a cat. I was clothes less, and astonished."Oh God. This is dark..."I got given a table. "What do you want?" A hand on a piece of paper.("I want. To, Fight. You!")

recycled

a new sight flying dark grey-blue like the depths of a cold sea...exact like the colour mix on my palette...then the scab of brown-red, discarded soul...Now I could pick up radio-signals.They didn't care that i had cheap metal stuck inside my nose-brain. I said sure but this has been insane before. You must know?? I !! know !!

If you're all sure.

recycle and leave

..I was in glorious sunshine, I slept like a new colour, summer hot, there were colours in the bedroom, I just got a hotel room! A colour adventure, I got a mixture of yellow liquid and crushed pills in a white plastic cup; I was so sun I did what I was told. Because compasses pointed North...I went to the bed. Then I woke up in the morning glory of the sun. My nose ring had slipped out and spread up my nose into my brain in the night.

Recycling

I spin from the window to the cackling women, everyone is smoking. What an odd heave, white doors are all locked. But:

"We are all dead. !!"

One old Viking King, long red and gold beard, fast cigarettes, collection of lighters, tobacco case, filters, all lined together, at the window. A smile for me. A bulk that confines himself in the space. Not wise though, only if wise knows what is so appealing about him to me. The situation, brothers leading a movement, the knowing we share of these latched doors, those with the yes, unaware of making their own mistakes. I can free through in many ways. I'm stitched and wearing something fresh, a blood red velvet suit, a dark brown cord jacket, black cravat. I spend a lot of time, while he spends all time, at the window. He doesn't speak, he winks, and he sees.He looks like he has been stationed at the window by someone unknown. I don't think he ever even smokes. I know he hears me. But he won't talk. I meet him for a whole day."We have died, and this is All Heaven. Save US!"    I said to the King;

A longtime of War. A never-ending battle. And UnwantedÖI have been stationed for months, many more months than i supposed. My record is that I don't shower enough, that I smoke in the rooms, that I don't dress smart enough, I do, I dress cool. Always. Well, the monster remained. New songs come and go, the stereo is an ashtray now, covered in mashed burnt plastic scars, and little dusty cells. Taped three brand new hits on over-used cassette. I was in monster many long. Then booted it, and free. Too many long. Here's how the days went; A little less bully, swearing, and some more help, kindness. Because I could come back with this, and say it's failed, and what could be telling me this? And....? another thing; something is letting men through the day, about every half hour for a few minutes. F****Off, I saw a man, there, I saw three times, someone trying to punch her head, and I've managed to keep them away, and when I get high...nicotine, just go....stop worrying you have to be there, and If I'm saying things like * *** while looking for the dropped needle, then I say, low...sorry....that's a surprise...talking like that, every ten minutes!!

End of The World

==========================

Where has the world gone to?

It is an empty office.

Why am I now a man, a new type of man, where are the men, I am the lost-man, that has no more men. All I am to do, now, is run. All I am now. 

 but run.

 Ferrets, a cruel ferret, a stranger in a , yellow and brown, having spasmodic fits, and twitching mouth, like it wants to get into my trousers only. 

Fright kept with me, it was guiding me, I was through with the office, and I cut holes to go walking through the walls, Can we leave, please? "Could you?" Could you leave that behind. 

I was lost of thought. 

You wanted me to mission. I am running away. You wanted me to overcome something, like your solution was mine. But you are mine, and we had to, run. I am alone. When you were learning I was learning, now I am learning this new world. Because I left both of the worlds.

I know I wanted to jail in the end. To lose her with spite. I wanted a hell to run through her. I threw her away with spite. Then, we were made to run together. Where has her world gone?

 Now, I have come back, okay my dear?.

I turn the corner.

I have broken into a wall.

White wash breeze blocks and office walls, like the office, bland, thin boards and fluorescent lights above me.

State your case! It is around time to guess, night, about 2.20am...I don't have a watch. 

This is an alley.

How could I get to the end of the alley?

Why is this place for me at the end of the world, this alleyway? This small capture, this one trap, high perfect walls on each side, no holes, no turns.

High place.

This is the last place, then, it looks like an office, it has tubes of bright persistent eye burning, headache light hanging over me, it has broken plastic spinners, broken plastic made-up things, to sit on, I sit nowhere. I am walking now, I am walking towards the little tree at the place where all I can see is broken. I'm waiting, breathing sharp ice, my chest lunging up and down hates me, it shows me, it makes me big here, it is an alarm signal. it dangers me. The breathing inside is noisy, stiff, but just too loud and the rhythm of it is like a rattle gun...

"I like a little!"

Banging. Dark blue in the entire place. That is what is. That is the move colour, of the whole night...One colour left, for no-one who could think, a good night for night animals. A good to time to find something to eat.

"I like a little!"

 Black sharp things  crashing in a symphony, exploding from the black rattle tube, lines after lines of poisonous darts, one cut me, it bit my neck. My energy cut out so quickly, and I felt dead as the dart sank like carbon monoxide, like a last breath. She did me with a hit, took all my fruity workaday readiness, cut me down to sink sick with bad blood. Licked all my quickness and made me drop at work, it was at work. I was keen and bright, and the needle hit, and I staggered, and I said, not now! I am working! Now all the stuff's taken me away! You've bitten me, and I was being brighter! So quick it took me.

I sighed, there was a woman with me in the office, and when I got frail, I sighed, and carried on with it all, only a little less able.

All the work had been completed and I just wanted to sleep, but not while I was working! I had three hours left! You pickanenne! I mean, pigama-me-me, I like to play with words, because you get giggly, so I told the workmates, a little pygmy savage has spit a dart of poison in me, I said. A pyga-me-me.

I need to carry on working, I just feel she is a little naughty deadly woman for hitting me.

It was those cigarettes.

.

It was like the last cigarette I took. The last time. I was weak. Like a last cigarette. 

It was going to have me taken, I could feel myself collapsing. But, it wasn't the given idea at the time. All of us smoking then mean't that no more were smokers lying, then. Invincible all those beautiful smokers, agreeing about many things, all the things!! but yearning only for the next one, the cool hit, the smooth tasting, my cry in that place was a cry about physical wealth, waste and waste I said. I felt I was pathetic.

 i knew it would leak all my energy away. I was sighing. I never used to know anger. I went to work.

Do you like taking everything available? You take anything offered. You take waste. I want everything you said. So, so? Take a cigarette.

 No more of all the worlds, here, one blind back-street.

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