Tuesday 8 May 2007

Talking to Bianca in a Bar

I heard a screeching in my head today and Bianca says I ought to let out a few demons - so in my usual style I smoked a few relaxing Benson's and enjoyed some Palermo sunshine sitting outside some bar called Lo Jerco or something like that and devoured a carafe of farmers wine - and Bianca keeps saying "come on !!!, let them out you nutter" - so I give her an earful - telling her about my dead parents and the car crash and my borng life in Barking and the drug crazed afternoons at Bob's house - old Bob and Sharon - I havent thought about them for a while, I wonder how the new baby is. And then I made up a load of stuff about white swans and ravaged goats - cheese in the West country and my dancing career - how i had tap danced through college and muffed a few exams because of it and how noone had accepted me until I met Jessica. She was the first love of my life and bought me Refreshers and dripped cider down my ever eager throat while I tried to smoke Havana Cigars. My forehead never stopped dripping with sweat at school - and the furrows opened up like canals - I would barge past people and run to teachers begging for errands like delivering the register, It was like cool nirvana if I got the errand and I would relish with an inner glee the beautiful freedom it gave me and the honour of it all. Then I took to spending days on end in the sick room with Vodka binges and stashes of low class cigarettes. The music scene grabbed me by the balls but I kicked it off. Hobbies came and went quicker. TV started to dominate, accompanied by intensive sherry drinking and telephone calls to half hearted aquaintences in the surrounding outlying rural areas (farms and smallholdings mainly - some of them lived in rented accomodation). But I got through it all - and emerged from my living hell into another living hell - WORK - and that is what I have run away from - Its all a white lie - but the beautiful flabmeister Bianca fell for it hook line and sinker - and now she is mopping my furrowed canals and treating me like a gentleman. Ah - it is ood to talk sometimes...

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