Bristol 401

Back in the Group

Okay, apparently the writer's group is pretty relaxed in its organisation. And since I copped a caning from all concerned re declining of the invite, I've now said yes.

The meeting is Sunday week.

Count me in, I wrote nervously.

I have one shitty short story to take. What with meth come down last week and nicotine withdrawal this week, I haven't written a word for 10 days.

But, I guess, I only need one piece, hey?

They welcomed me back. Yay! They all hoped I'd change my mind. I'm shitting myself. Fuck! I've got nothing good to take. But, I guess, that's the point of a writer's group, hey?

Now, I'm going to ride my bike over to my mums, exercise is one of the best cures for the ciggie screams.

Chevrolet Corvette

How Does It Feel

I'm half way through a bottle of red wine, I figure that's all that's left for me now. My last addiction, which was never really an addiction at all. Booze is a poor man's drug.

Shane bought down a bottle of Valium, saying they mix well with red wine. You won't care about anything. Smoking. Nothing. Take two.

I'm waiting for the apathy to kick in, as G arrives.

I tried to plug the cord for my lap-top into my A drive. Clearly something is working.

You've made a life time of trying to plug your end into the wrong hole, says G.

Unless it smells like shit when it comes out, you are just not doing it right, I say.

G grimaces.

Change the world!

Change it to what, though?

G shrugs.

An egalitarian society where everyone is treated well, I ask?

No, nothing that fucking radical, says G.

I'd make all the straight boys crave man on man sex...

In your dreams, says G.

You should see what you do in my dreams.

G smiles nervously.

Would you accept Jesus into your heart, for this new world?

Jesus is just my type, I say, dark, swarthy. I'd accept him into my bed. Suck his cock! Divine spoof.

Jesus is the saviour.

I'm the devil with the pitch fork and the horns, I say. It's a much cooler part.

G drinks from another bottle of wine and scoffs 2 v's, but his pants still don't come off. (you know what straight boys are like on alcohol)

Do you want to see me naked? G slurs.

No, that would be like perving on my brother, I say.

We finish our bottles of wine and wrap ourselves in blankets and sing, He ain't heavy...

We think we sound grand.

The phone rings and there is just heavy breathing on the other end.

Say something obscene, says G.

Fuck off cunt, I slur and G laughs. That's obscene?

Your mother sucks on dead bitch dog's cunts in hell, yells G, after he snatches the phone from my hand. Pulling the dried, deteriorating vaginal skin from her lips in sheets. He makes slurping noises with his mouth.

I quietly take the remaining red wine away from him

G and I both watch, "I'm not there" and neither of us get it.

You do look like Christian Bale, though, Christian, says G.

Get fucked!

But you do!

I've heard it all before, I hear myself slur, as my head spins on the wine. I can't see it.

The only drug left to me, I say. And it's the worst one of all.

That's cause your a pig.

Am not, I say.

Piggy, piggy, piggy, piggy, piggy, piggy, piggy, says G. (which sounds strange coming from a straight boy's mouth)

And a D series Citroen comes on the screen, Heath Ledger drives away in it, and G loses me completely.

The most beautiful car ever designed, I say.

You're the most beautiful guy ever born, slurs G.

No more wine for you, I say.

yOU GOT ANOTHER BOTTLE AND i'LL DO ANY THING...

Promises, promises, I say.

Suck me off...

I'm calling your girlfriend, I say.

Kate Blanchett sucks on a cigarette and I hate her guts... big time! I want her killed!

You got it bad, says G

Have not.

I saw you inhale when she did.

Get fucked, I say. I chug on my red wine, totally unconvinced.

G puts his arm around me.

I lay my head against his chest.

Bob Dylan sings, How does it feel.

Neither of us say anything.

What do you think Jesus' bum crack would smell like? I ask.

Shit, says G.

What does Valentina's cunt taste like, I ask?

Piss, says G.

I take another Valium, washed down with more red wine.

The Dreaded Day 3 - Shake, Rattle and Roll

Am I hungry, or just withdrawing? Do I have the shakes, or am I just detoxing? Is my central nervous system packing it in, or is it just the addiction?

Every cell in my body is quivering! Like low level panic. Like electricity being leaked into my system. Zzz! Zzz! zZZ!

Harder to give up than heroin? Personally, I found heroin much easier to quit than tobacco.

Ha, Ha.

Kane called, he's coming over to give me a massage, smooth me out, tide me over, relieve the tension. He's been finishing and submitting his thesis. Oh? I see? Well, that's a pretty damn good excuse, I thought. Hmm?

I've got 4 short stories written, I'd better get on and write some more. But, who can work with these shakes and this foggy head? I just feel like watching movies.

a few hours later...

I pulled my tax together for the last 2 years, that must count for something?

An organic cherry muffin cheers me up... not unlike that buzz-cut wog boy in the lime green t-shirt with the nice smile could have...

I'm giving up now and I'm going to watch "I'm not there."

I haven't seen too many Heath Ledger or Cate Blanchett films to decide if either of them are any good. The few Heath Ledger films I've seen have left me thinking that he is way overrated. The Dark Night, it seemed to me that Heath was on some trip of his very own, kind of separate to the rest of the cast. Brokeback Mountain, for most of the film Heath was unintelligible. Call me old fashioned, but I like to be able to understand what my movie characters are saying. Candy was okay. I switched A Knights Tale off before it was finished. Awful.

I've seen Cate in The Talented Mr Ripley and Lord of the Rings, but I can't remember seeing her in any thing else.

 

Screaming Silently into the Void

I feel like crap, on the edge, staring down from the precipice, want to scream, yell, lay very still. Burn! Kick my arms and legs. Explode.

Every cell in my body is humming. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! But I've had no cigs, no joints, no evil tobacco and now I'm crawling into my cave. Pull the doona over my head and stop breathing! Scream silently into the void!

I bought mangos to eat, but instead drank 3 glasses of red wine. Hick! Now I'm light-headed on top of it all.

I'm ready for day 3. Really day 2 because last night I, well, you know... Bring it on!

I should go walking, riding, running, something?

I'm All Yours

Day 2 - Christian's Addiction

 Yay, for my haircut, I thought as I looked bleary-eyed into the mirror this morning. Even if me & the hairdresser did have an inordinately detailed discussion about what I meant by short.

Just cut my fucken hair will ya?

My reflection looked fresher, happier, cooler, handsomer, gazing back.

I'm never going to smoke again. That's what I'm aiming for. That's what it has to be, if I want to quit. I can't piss around with this any more. Time to get serious.

I had dinner with Mark W, Shane and D. So you think you can dance results show dinner. We had a couple of joints.

To tell you the truth, I'm not even enjoying being stoned any more. It just feels stupid.

And cigarettes, I hate them.

This should be easy.

nervous smile.

6 hours later...

Oh yes, feisty Christian is lurking just below the surface, like hot mud pools, or thermal rocks. Beige to bitch in milli-seconds. Guns are armed but so far have not been fired. At surface level I look nice and normal, but under the surface, toil and trouble brews, ready to spew forth @ the slightest provocation.

Okay, so I took my mum to Safeway and ate lunch with her without incident. So, let's not push it, I think. I've got DVD's, I've got tea, I've got juice, I've got 3 newspapers and I am heading to bed to endure the rest of the first day out of sight.

Probably best.

Oh yawn, Heath Ledger got the supporting Oscar.

Is it just me or do other people find his family just a little creepy. They seem to enjoy their ill-gotten lime light just a little too much. Go to the opening of an envelope, as they say.

Must go see Milk. 

Model For You

Day 1 - Here We Go Again

Okay, I know you've heard it all before, but, here I am, all right again, day 1 of quitting smoking. Give me strength.

Got my hair cut and went to the old post office for breakfast, while the cleaner was here. I hate being home at the same time, don't know why. Phobia? Maybe, I was scared by my mother's cleaner when I was a little boy?

I bought the movie Intermission, on a whim. ex rental $5. How can I go wrong, I thought? Now, I'm going to settle on the couch and watch it. Do nothing for the arvo. Be gentle on myself.

Already, I'm going out for dinner with a bunch of pot smokers. Okay, so I'm going to puff on a few joints, before the end of the day. Kill me! No cigs though. 

Please, Sir

Life Goes On

Tom,

Last night as I played pool with Shane, Mark W and D, we all had a moment where we were all standing looking at one another, tuned into each other at exactly the same time, waiting for the next person to take their turn. I looked from Shane, to Mark W to D's faces and I thought of you - you should have been there, like once you would have been. Fifteen months after you died, there were your four best mates living life, being guys together, playing Sunday night pool. I know you would have been pleased. I know you would have smiled. I know you would have had a tear in your eye.

As David would say, Tom was right there with you, that's why you thought of him. Nice idea David, but I don't know?

And life goes on. Unfaltering. Unswerving. Indomitable. Incessant. Unstoppable. We're all just fodder for time, nothing else. There is no great mystery.

Movies

I watched...

Slumdog Millionaire - so the Indians make a formulaic American movie and beat the Americans at their own game. It was good.

The Bankjob - yawn, another pommy cops and robbers movie. I spent part of the movie trying to convince my friend that the lead actor was not Guy Richie.
Great cars, though.

Sitting up late in bed... The Dreamers - I've always loved this movie, nice to go back to it to have another perve.

Saturday night in DVD's

Troy - Will this movie ever end? Sure, Brad is pretty, but we always knew that.
Eric Bana is beefed up too.

Little Miss Sunshine - oh please Toni? Surely you can get better material than this? Rubbish.

Old Volkswagen's are so emotive. They are so cool, organic, sexy.

I had a 1965 Beetle. I loved that car. In fact, if it weren't for the safety issue, I'd probably drive an old Beetle now.

I used to run my hands over my Beetle sensuously. They were a sexy shape. I could lie over the back of my Beetle and hump it. Smoke a j. Get off on it. It was sexy. (cheeky smile) Not really. But it was nice to lie against in the afternoon sun. Curvy.

My favourite float in the Mardi Gras Parade ever was the handsome boy in the overalls polishing his pristine notch back sedan, circa 1965 ish, with his body. He seduced his VW all the way up Oxford Street. It was hot.

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