Ups and downs

I've been about the town seeing whats about and its not nice. Not all of it - mostly its nice - well, mostly - some of it I like and some of it makes me sing.

I shouldnt sing, I sing badly. I love to sing I love to sin - I sin and sign and sing badly. My lip reading is shit too - I don't do it, ever, and when I do, I do it badly - never.

Did you know me when I sang - no, you didnt. Well I didnt sing, well I could - I could sing - I've told you that - I could sing loudly, badly, when I'm singing. When you heard me sing you didnt hear me sing - don't tell me you did - don't, not even if you did.

I shout Shout and shout - its better to sing Sing and sing - badly and not at all. Impossibly never and ever always after I didnt do it and I'm so glad, mostly, that you didnt hear me SHOUTING!!

You know when its inside me - no you don't how could you, you havent seen or heard me - I just do and then I don't and then its all over the place screaming Ag A Fukin DOOO

Shouting Lager Lager Lager 0 thats the only song I ever loved - other than all of the others I loved but mostly I loved to scream BOLLOCKS and then to sing gentle songs to babies who did not know - like you do not know - what it is that is inside until it comes outside and then you might wish it didnt as much as I do do cos when I hear it coming - starting to sing then I know that more is going to come until it stops and all that pours out is bad song, bad times, bad songs.

Px

Art and stuff

Friday night, Saturday morning - dancing, gurning, smiling. Excellent.

And in the morning there was a mixture of beauty and vomit - neither of which were mine. We'd had a good time - Mary paid for hers with shakes and vomiting.

I found beauty in everything and wanted to be inside and through everything and everyone - to be at every place in time all at once, to be so deeply immersed in life, joy, pain, death, fever, laughter.... to burst out of my skin and make love to the world.

I dreamed of art - a dozen images of photographs; clipshots of reality. Close-ups of confusion and my usual want for surreal images of flesh and the weather. Corners of mouths, just the folds of skin, the roots of hair, pebbles on the beach, elbows, eyes and ears.

I wanted to be infused with love and to give so much love - to burst out of my skin and let my spirit and soul blend and dance with the world. White clouds merge into the grey, shifting and blurring through the storm; the last leaves cling to trees torn by the sea-wind and freezing rain. A few herring gulls glide and plummet, swoop and steal flashes of light.

Just one mag-pie - "good morning Mr Magpie, hows your wife and kids?".... actually, there is a mag-pie and a crow, I wonder if that affects the ditty... one for sorrow, two (well and mag-pie and a crow) for an excellent Friday night.

I think that has made as much sense I as intended. Love and stuff. Px