dark am i, yet lovely, a lily among thorns, majestic as stars in procession

dark am i, yet lovely, a lily among thorns, majestic as stars in procession
WHY DESTROY YOURSELF? WHY DIE BEFORE YOUR TIME? THE KEEPERS OF THE HOUSE TREMBLE. DESIRE IS NO LONGER STIRRED. DO NOT CONFORM ANY LONGER TO THE PATTERN OF THIS WORLD.

Friday 2 June 2023

White Void; Back In The Day


Image: The legend that is Victoria Climbie.

The wonderful thing about blogging (or White Voiding) is that one can sit down at the ‘personal PC computer cryptic workstation’ and just peruse: What the dickens am I gunna write today? What is there to write about? Or not write about? Nothing. There’s nothing to not write about. Apart from politics, religion, and science. You want to read something boring, go and check out The Financial Times, The Independent, or The Daily Mail. You want to read something free and off the hook (can I describe myself that way?), then stick around here.

            The White Void on 'the cryptic' (PC) is not any longer actually a white void, because I change the colour of the screen whenever I type on Microsoft Word these days (still on Word, I know). It’s a cool feature, a great compliment to the brightness/contrast controls. Between them, you can get the screen glowing with just the right amount of ‘starkiness’ in a colour scheme of your preferred choice. Excellent late at night when the lights are down. Right now I’ve got the screen in a popular shade of charcoal grey (not that it matters), but you have to be careful, because, depending on the heaviness of the colour of the screen, it can make the flashing cursor difficult or impossible to see. Not that any of this matters. I’m just saying. About the White Void. On paper, White Void is White Void, because I don’t know any writers who print on coloured paper. I have wrote on teabag-stained paper though before, I hasten to admit. Isn’t it great, that teabag-staining trick? Probably the best cheap gimmick in art that I know of.

Do you know what I’m on about, or do I have to explain it? Just in case you’re thick, all you do is stain a piece of paper with a half-damp used teabag to create an old timeworn yellow effect. I do it all the time (going one step further to carefully burn the edges of the paper with a lighter to up the overall crispy blackened-edge worse for wear look – what’s that White Void you’re on about?).

Is that enough about the White Void? It’s never enough about the White Void. It’s like totally interesting, dude. Like how you dip your feet in, fall into it, then batter it. ATM (at the moment), I’m fairing terrifically well against this charcoal grey affair. Again, not that it matters. I’m just writing without a cause. A rebel without a gauze.

Do you remember gauzes? Way back when, doing a bit of weed? The very first store-bought cannabis pipe under the bridge maybe, or next to the bins, or behind the shed? Those days were good. The taste of the resin was timeless. The fact that it got you off your head was secondary, it was just the cool chic thing to do back then. Now it would affect me differently; I’d be too paranoid to enjoy the benefits (if there are any, apart from hearing music better). Perhaps you’re a blazer who loves his chong, and I say fair play to you. Wouldn’t it be nice for you to try my drug of choice for a bit, while I try yours? Cocaine, if you must know. Loads of drug rehab and therapy, it’s an awful long story…I even wrote a poem about it…

Since I left school from the age of 16 to early twenties I did nothing but blaze, buying ounces of resin (it was mostly resin back then) with my giro once every two weeks and still having a tenner left by the time the next one landed. It was a tight budget I was on but I was splendid with it because weed was the only thing in need. I longed for nothing else but pot which was always available and affordable. It was enough for me back then; there was no predilection for pills, pastes and powders – you know, all that heavy junk which really undoes you in the end.

I used to watch pornography while stoned, always fumbling a spliff and the remote control with my spare hand. At one point in my youth I was watching it on multiple screens, on a 'video player and a DVD' hooked up at the same time. Maybe, as time goes on, I’ll be brave enough to write about pornography here at piebald77; I’m currently blueprinting the best way forward in divulging all of my personal life online. Should I stick my balls on?

I HAVE to deal with crap. Best place is here. And nobody’s reading, so there’s no embarrassment. Even if they are, I don’t mind. It’s not as if someone is going to approach me in real life on the street and say, “Oi Mr Donny, about your bollocks on the blog last week…” Even if they did, I’d batter them. So stay tuned for some very personal content coming here in the foreseeable. I don’t care for personal shit. When you’ve lost all your privacy, you tend not to. But anyway, take care of yourself until the next time. I really mean that. You can never be too careful. And stop stroking vicious dogs.


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