Friday, September 08, 2006

A Bad Moon

" But you, Zarathustra, you still love and seek out those dark places, like the roots of the pine"
Nietzsche.

Soundtrack;
Whitehouse; "Great White Death"

Why must I actively seek out confrontation?
Is it some kind of parasitic spiritual voodoo that I attempt? Perhaps I aspire to perform some kind of psychic vampirism in which by subjugating other men I can somehow steal their energy-but all that bleeds from them is their pain, rage and hatred, blending with my own into abominably toxic and explosive compounds.
I wake as usual afer less than five hours (after doing a sedation job on myself that would have hospitalised Keith Moon,) horribly alert and lucid yet still drunk and with a head full of pictures of frightened male faces.
No hangover, as usual..No physical damage to my own person (only financial HAHAHA! I care alot....)or any others.
Thankyou, Odin, for protecting myself and others, again (and again).
How? Am I so terrible that I cant even get into a fight? I doubt it..(I am not large in the physical sense, but quite tall and very slim, not unlike a Buchenwald case at times)
The stabbing hand, poised again.
Horrible..
As in HORROR.

And so fucking INFANTILE. Where is cunts sense of decorum?
Some people,( usually male -thankyou for your wasted efforts, Martin..) can see the bloody murder in my eyes and attempt counsel, but a thorn caught in my mind seeks only to terrorise.
I am a terrorist. In the worst sense...
People let me down so I must then seek to let myself and others down even further.
The takedown....
A memory surfaces of the Bishop and myself four floors up on the roof of the studio...Saturated in alcohol as I was, this f-er (one of my oldest and most trusted assosciatess who KNOWS WHICH BUTTONS TO PUSH) points heavenwards to a chimney on the roof edge and suggests that "there is your seat"...I rise to the bait and there I am, crouching, perching like a gargoyle, four floors up, bathed in moons milk.

The moons cycloptic eye looked down- and I realise it was the eye of Odin looking down and laughing as I twist and shout in howling alcoholic lycanthropic deraingement.
Later a taxi driver has the temerity to enquire as to whether I have the money for my ride(??I am wearing an H Boss suit??) as I get into his vehicle and after a breif interaction his glasses are removed and destroyed.
The memory disagrees with me like an undigested meal but I feel no remorse.
Not for him or any of the other cattle that got hit(not physically) with my electric stick last night.(except perhaps Camille (sorry, sweetheart..People like me go with the territory of tending bar), although as a rule when I run on Ethyl autopilot women are generally spared the worst of it, they just get to watch a man raised by women behaving like a beast (in a vain attempt to escape the pain of being a man)).
Seems so apt that I get up and drink bitter lemon from the fridge.No milk for strong sweet coffee here..
Quinine is said to sooth Malaria...Mal Aria...Bad Air.
The beautifil and mistreated Hotsygirl phones and offers to take me out for coffee.
Her words are cool hands on my feverish brow...

I weep at her kindness.

After describing the degree of distress I am in she says she is coming over..She lives just round the corner....

I wait..Hurting..Needing coffee, food...
FIVE hours later (I exaggerate not) she finally graces me with her presence, arriving smiling, at my door..
When I mention that I was intending, upon posting this, to go out alone having waited half the day she takes a call from her girlfreind outside then disappears.
When I wtf call her she says "you pissed me off"...
I am now seeing a side to her that EVERY person I have EVER met who knows her (obviously many in the Biblical sense)and has warned me of, that she is the most terrifyingly self centered individual ever to convince herself that she has a fraction of compassion for others.
Who or what exactly does she think she is? (See prev. post for more thoughts on women.)
Libertine? Free spirit?...Monstrous is the word that springs to my mind.

I go out and buy vodka..
I am an alcoholic..And as such I have NO freinds, only contacts..


Otter

22 comments:

Indigobusiness said...

Yes. I reckon you've got it fairly well-sussed, Doc. I'm not about to argue, anyway.

There's something to be said for calling it straight-up: no prisoners. Something remarkably human, and rare. And admirable.

Style is another thing. Violence is the thrown bolt in the flywheel of bone.

Indigobusiness said...

It occurred to me my first comment might seem a bit sanctimonious. After all, there was a time when I used to throw-down at the drop of a hat. It seemed like almost a solemn duty, and a way to feel fully alive.

Somewhere along the line, the duty to square the bullshit morphed into a realization that flipped a switch in me. Utterly changing me. Can't really explain it, but I'm better for it, just doesn't always look or seem so.

Violence is abhorrent to me now, even if I sometimes understand it. I prefer the Zen Bogart approach.

Humphrey Bogart was legendary for making fast friends by driving men to the brink of drunken murder, at the bar. They'd call him out, and he'd say 'Sure, but we don't want to draw a crowd. You go out, and I'll meet you in the alley in a few minutes.' He'd just sit and drink until they returned, bumfuzzled. It usually worked for big laughs, evidently. Not always.

I've always admired that. He's lucky to have survived his style.

Keep howling at the empty field, Doc...I figure you'll soon draw a crowd.

happy otter said...

Your blog is a thing of rare beauty..
Deeply impressed..
Not that I've not beeen there before..
Thankyou fr inspiration.

Indigobusiness said...

Thank you, you're too kind.

Anonymous said...

Get a fucking room you two !
You don't need to do you ?
You're the same person anyway.

Will you post this up ?

happy otter said...

Lovely old
WRONG.................

Indigobusiness said...

Fucking Mikey is finally right about something, I didn't mean to turn this into a love-fest.

Dave Bones, maybe? Surely not Twit?

Nah, it's Mikey. Or maybe Blog Ho...

happy otter said...

Dont you ever get tired of being WRONG????

Indigobusiness said...

Me? No. I seek it out. It's how I learn.

But who really is happybusiness?

Indigobusiness said...

Me? No. I seek it out. It's how I learn.

But who really is happybusiness?

Indigobusiness said...

Ok, so I'm in my third day of 102+ fever. I thought I could do much better in my delerium, but I've failed utterly.

Just wanted to confess, and point out that opinions are never wrong, and if they are misrepresented as fact they are dogma. Evil manifest.

Mikey knows how much I value his comments, much of the time...even when I don't line up with it. He is a remarkable intellect. And occassionally a twat. But aren't we all?

This is going to be a great blog, I promise to mostly lurk, from here on in.

happy otter said...

I really have no idea, mate..Just vaguely pissed off at you for not spotting the subtle differences in mine and l.s's styles, we are freinds and come from the same headspace as
you coud say...
But Bones...?? Do me a favour...!
Stay lucky..
Otter

Indigobusiness said...

I thought it was a rather absurd list, myself. Each style, separate and distinct.

---

Good advice. First, I'll need to get lucky.

I'll get right on that, if I survive this week.

happy otter said...

Survive?
Survive what?
Dont you realise your'e going to die?
Fuck your missions, your crusade, your paranoid delusions.
Survival is simply NOT ENOUGH.
I demand and expect quality.
Right now.
Once and for all.
Quality time.

Indigobusiness said...

Fuck you in your preumptions of missions and crusades and judgmental demands and accusations of paranoia. Dying isn't the problem, it is the living that stings.

You remind me of women who keep carving up their bodies, thinking they'll eventually be satisfied.

Survival is plenty, for now.

happy otter said...

Hahahaaha..Sooooo f-in comical...
Soooo entertaining.
I LOVE people...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wriggle like a fucking eel...

Indigobusiness said...

I can tell.

Indigobusiness said...

Edit like a pussy.

happy otter said...

losing the plot a bit..
Alot less over the gear than I thought..Various problems...
I know, I know..Too misanthropic...
Expect a change in the tone of this blog soon..
I just cannot stand people (usually overprivilidged, but any one for that matter)talking about "survival" unless they are in an impending life threatening situation..Wrong for more reasons than I can be bothered to list ....

happy otter said...

All deletions,deliberate and otherwise re-instated.

Is everybody happy?

happy otter said...

102 fever comment was missed, not deliberatelt deleted..

Sol Invictus
Otter

Anonymous said...

I scratch my head when trying to figure out those people whose cell phones ring off almost as many heartbeats in a day...that result in alterations of plans in the moment...and who have had so much come up resulting in 5 hour delays from initial plans already :/

Or is it that I am the vegetable...

(in no way do I envy bloody Hiltonskanks with cels attatched to their cheekbones looking like some birth-deformity android experiment gone wrong)

I miss the good old days when if the phone rang...i didn't pick because I'm not bldy fking home!!!
Having a cell phone that never rings in the first place... is probably even more absurd.

(alteast it takes nice photos)

O and in my little world if 5 hours takes me away from tending to a friend in need...it would be because an 'enola gay' has struck the area resulting in atomic detonation devastating with radiation and fire.