Sports Bar

Hi again. I didn’t make church for the third time straight this morning, but it wasn’t because I was with Laura Dark. I’ve just walked past her shop then, but I wasn’t tempted to go in and rebuy her. I’ve seen enough of her getting spread-eagled on the bed by a buff dude, and reversing her rear onto his baby-maker on an A-B loop. The strange thing about porn is, that I’m developing love for the blokes as well. Now that is some scary-assed homosexual nonsense. It’s almost impossible to look at one without the other (man and woman, that is).

I did a new thing with my girl Antonia yesterday afternoon. We went to a new sports bar in town. I felt really awkward, and she knew it. I didn’t want to explore it, but rather just hang out at the bar. It was up two sets of stairs. What am I letting myself in for? I asked myself on the way up. Eventually we made it over towards the pool table and starting relaxing a little. The bar soon emptied. I often think that about myself, you know: That, no matter where I go, the crowds there soon dissipate. It’s like I’m a walking vacuum, dispersing the masses in my wake. It makes me slightly paranoid. People tend to get out of my way. It could be my colour in a predominantly white town.

After the sports bar I walked home and bought two cans of super-strength lager on the way, as I usually do. Then I went to bed early, as I usually do, and woke early, as I also usually do – when I’m not spaced out overnight on a diet of amphetamine and porn. It’s weird when I stay up for one or two nights without sleep. Reality becomes gossamer thin. Semi-transparent invisible people start appearing in my flat. They walk through walls and take refuge in cupboards. Creepy crawlies appear under the bed and sofas. I see them scuttle right around me like cavemen around a dinosaur. But they are so big, some of them! Really chunky and fat, like.

Did I tell you that I brought my boy Simon back to assist me checking under the bed and sofas? I’ve been relaxed in my confines since then, mind put at ease. I checked, with him present, and there was nothing there, when for so many days I had been certain that there was. Simon is in prison now because he broke a restraining order with Antonia in the pub. I was there at the time, drinking along with each of them merrily. The bartender got whiff of what was happening and rang the police just as I left. They came and nicked him. He’s a good friend, but Antonia told me that he exposed himself to children. Would you still be a friend to a guy who done that? I don’t know the whole story, so I’m reserving judgement. I also know another woman who has had one of my friends put behind bars, this time for domestic abuse. How can you do that, I think, to my friend, no matter what he’s done?