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?