More About That F**king Creature

I’m over my flu now. Wow. That was a tough week. I’ve still got a cough, a persistent one, but the worst of it is over. You never appreciate your health until its gone, do you? I’ve felt rotten for days on end.

I’m still thinking about that creature under my bed. I know for a fact that if I use amphetamine again it’s going to pop its head out for a good old ganders. God help me then. I’ll be at a loss. It feeds on my using, my pretend agent Clint from PAUSE just said. On my using, and on my fear. I could hear its claws scraping on the carpet, man. And I could smell the dastardly thing. I think I’m going to write a poem about it for this month’s library event. I was thinking about writing a book about it. It would be a great place to start in a book. In the genetic-engineering lab, where the thing was conceived. How do you pamper a creation to meet someone’s darkest fears? A rat, a dog and a snake isn’t too much of a bad start, is it?

I’ve been reborn since that unhallowed event, I feel reinvigorated, rejuvenated, rekindled. I feel like I’ve cheated death. I may have said this already before, but it needs saying again coz its true. This raw crisp and original state of mind needs to be cherished and respected and clung onto tightly until doomsday. I can’t afford to throw this feeling away over a bag of speed and some boring old pornographic material which I’ve seen a thousand times. It’s true that the novelty comes back after a layoff but it doesn’t last long unless it is actually new novelty material, which it isn’t. I’m bored by the same old willies getting gobbled by the same old lippy cake-holes. Well buy some more, then, you say.  But that is opening the Celluloid Corridor well beyond its sell-by-date, a dangerous thing to do. I’ve got it under wraps now. The wolves are not calling at the minute. Let’s try and keep it that way, eh.

I shared about a silly old bracelet the other week. That power has worn off. It was nothing like I expected it to be, returning back to it. A porn star with a bracelet on which was the same as a church-goer! There the connection ends. I don’t think anything will take me back to that creature under my bed, stinking the flat out and scratching its claws. It was too scary. I was terrifically lucky I didn’t lose my flat. Any sane person would have walked out. Telly’s in there, running water in the kitchen, boiler’s in the bedroom, it’s all yours. But I amassed some bravery from somewhere and got it battered in the end. With a little help from my friends. I must just thank Lydia again for stroking it. That was a beautiful gesture and it may have saved my life.