with provisions we managed to turn our hand to greater effect. four becoming two and weaving into a one. songs crafted as if for fun these misguided but happily contrived contortions bear our signature. a forged yet unnacountable identity. the abstractions of an abstract artform.

had to feel the heat of relationship again. had to get wound up. had to wonder whether to apologise or sweep it away. don't know the destruction i make trying to make a construction. can't look into the future like i imagine i can.

tripping through the supermarket paraphernalia and spinning amongst the costumes and frozen peas time elapses in forgettable chunks. daylight carparks turn dark. a freaky smile luminates a hidden face, terrible ghoulish.

superimposed on this terrific backdrop. subconscious climates detected in tones. operators down phone lines full of judgement and sarcasm. me reeking all the way down the narrow hall. gripping the wall to steady myself should i fall. an attack of modern day nausea.

conscientiously objecting the war in me. rejecting the knowledge of global terror . . . holy wars civil wars unnecessary wars . . . wars that have nothing to do with me. i make it that way. i seek a healthy addiction to weekend hedonism. in this way i can say fuck bush and blair and saddam and osama all at once . . . safely ignorant . . . i have my own war.

i am quickly abandoning any notion of future happiness - foolishly. all this time and concrete vision. keep finding myself in a trancelike state reciting my little mantras: i know nothing. i know nothing. . . . pathetic attempts to induce a complete ignorance. instead i fall. i rise. i am overtaken by the blood to my head and fall again.

got me a sweetass pair of headphones and reclused myself that little bit further. sat transcribing tapes for the week . . . going over old ground and scratching down notes for posterity.

After that the employed look for something to do. burnt the whole shit down on a rather well looked after golf course aside a canal. poorly aimed shots waking me, caddies staring me.

watched a film before sleeping that twisted up inside me and bonded with a different script. gangsters and past lovers they were all there. in one second of sleep i had reunited terrifically with the angel and prevented another killing across town.

we play hard and play hard and nothing comes of it except a memory that is blurred as a dream. i pick myself off the floor for recovery time and am left with emptiness again. kick myself for seeing it coming. hit like by a freight train . . . on tracks . . . heading straight to hell.

no food no sleep for days. repentance, fasting, dying again. feeling claustrophobic from a religious exposure. mournful words attacking me, blown-up phrases attacking me. on all sides some god crowding in on me.

five seconds to decide it's a shame. then back to reckless abandon to find myself again.