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laurasinele · 6 years

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Thanks, Taika of my dreams

Couple of nights ago I had a weird dream. I am on four different psycoactive meds and my dreams have always been colourful to begin with, so weird dreams are not something extraordinary in this household of ours and our mornings usually begin like: “hey, husband, I had this crazy dream today in which Vlad Putin was an aquatic monster and we were seventies cops with horrible staches and fur coats and he tried to kill us by a river and we shot him but he didn’t died so I panicked and just switched to another tv channel and there was a riot in a fancy old theatre on our kitchen table because Jennifer Lawrence and David Tennant had stopped performing a live episode of Doctor Who to elope and live to the fullest their secret romance” (I actually dreamt that and I don’t even watch Dr. Who). But this dream I am talking about now was awfully dull. Yeah weird, but dull. Until...

Before I get to the details of my dream let me introduce you to the man on this picture. This is Taika “I do whatever the fuck I want because I don’t need your validation to know I am cool as fudge” Waititi, better known lately for directing the last instalment to Thor’s plot arch in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the colourful joy and delight full of flag waving and redemption that is Thor: Ragnarok. We, my husband and I, love Taika Waititi since we first met him a couple of years ago in What We Do In The Shadows, co directed with Jemaine Clement from Flight of the Conchords (and they both star in the movie with hilarious results). What?! You haven’t seen it?! One of the greatest fantasy comedies of our times?! Go now, I’ll wait.

(Now that you’ve seen the movie you now that’s Taika in it as Viago, waiting for you to fulfil your task) No, but seriously, we love him. If we were tu bump into him on the street we would invite him home and feed him and make sure he is all warm and cozy and tell him what a talented, lovable huge dork he is and that we love almost anything he does. Proof is, I only got interest in Ragnarok because of him because i hated so much the other two that I couldn’t finish them and that is not something that happens to me easily, not being able to finish a movie. AND I LAUGHED MY ASS OF AND I HAD THE GREATEST TIME WATCHING THOR: RAGNAROK EVEN ON HEAVY MEDS AND WITH A DEPRESSION. Because this man knows his shit when it comes to comedy and that ain’t easy.

Well, you are now acquainted with one of the most charismatic directors, writers and actors, with one of the most original and unapologetic public personas of this days. You’re welcome.

Look at that, a happy family with the mischievous son conveniently locked away LOL

Back to my dream!

I was at the cinema and my husband and I had set up one of my friends for a date without her knowing. It was weird because the three of us were sitting apart in little clusters of movie theatre seats, four seats for each, and from where we were sitting none of use could see the screen at all but somehow (dream logic) we still were catching every detail of the movie. All the lights were on and people was talking, it was kind of a special event in which you were welcome to bring your own food and sit wherever you pleased. We were bored and my friend wanted to finish the food and leave because the movie was stressing us out. Apparently, it was about kidnapping children but I didn’t know that until that moment (the me on my dream seemed to know, though). Then, Haley Joel Osment does his entrance in a nerdy outfit and produces a blanket and a picnic basket from a backpack. Yeah, I know, dream logic, ok? Haley Joel Osment was the guy me and my husband had set my friend up with.

So by then, the me inside the dream is ok with everything, it’s her plan after all, but the dreaming me is done with this shit and is bored af. So I decide I’m leaving and I accidentally end up inside the movie I DON’T KNOW HOW.

And there’s my husband and my friend and Haley Joel Osment and they’re all like “this movie is bad karma we out” and suddenly I’m alone and poor Naomi Watts tells me she’s done making the freaked out mom and she begs for me to take her role so she can be the evil mom that wants my kid because her daughter died. I don’t even have kids irl life and I don’t belong in the movie and now I want to know whats happens with my friend and HJO because against all odds it looked like they liked each other?? But Naomi is so beautiful and talented and she looks so done that I say ok and I do the freaked out mom followed around the big ass suburb house full of broken toys by the evil mom aka Naomi Watts. And I was really terrified and exhausted but every now and thens we would stop and OOC chat for a while and she would compliment me on my performance, thank me for the chance or complain about sandwiches in the catering today and I would say “But Nay, I’m only here because some psycomagical shit I didn’t event get to see the set” and she would apologise so much as if she had been unwillingly racist or something. And the we’d resume the chasing. So, apparently, the plot of the movie was that Naomi and her husband had lost a daughter and now wanted mine (that wasn’t there at all), but during the chasing around the house two things were discovered: a skeletal child that ran away from us, thankfully, and a live one, a seven-year-old boy, naked, locked in a closet. I took the boy in my arms an resumed my race around the house but this time I was pissed because why did they wanted to steal a child if they already had one that they were neglecting? I was so pissed that I forgot to run and started walking. I heard I siren downstairs and thought it was the cops but it was an ambulance toy. it was broken and I was afraid it would catch fire, so I picked it up and switched it off, all the while carrying a sobbing, naked kid. But then the sirens resumed and there were blue and red colour in the entrance hall so I ran there and the door stormed opened and there were the Andes fro Hot Fuzz in SWAT gear and... MOTHER FLIPPIN TAIKA WAITITI IN A SIXTIES SPY POSE POINTING WITH HIS HANDS TOGETHER AND NO GUN AT ALL

He is sporting a black suit with satin lapels that looks very expensive, but he wears white tennis slippers, a black cotton t-shirt and an ugly felt pin of a flower over his chest pocket, with ridiculously small deep blue petals. I am staring at the pin when he breaks his ridiculous pose and says IN HIS VIAGO VOICE:

“I’m the Goldblum’s daughter godfather, what happened?” (yeah, the dreaming me was also like whaaaaaaat lolololol)

“They tried to steal my daughter. I found him in a closet. The other is dead”

He took the boy while saying “I always suspected them” and he hugged him while whispering “It’s ok now” to his ear. Still in his Viago voice. Then he looked at me and he realised I’d been through hell and (dream logic) he hugged me simultaneously and told me everything was going to be alright. And I woke up.

Now hear me out, babies, hear me out. I’ve been through a lot for this past few years and when I had that dream, I was on all day in bed 5 day streak after a faint hint of recovery that lasted barely a week and was preceded of months and months of oversleeping and only showering once in two months, medication with undesirable side effects, and well... your average depressive state.

When I woke up from that dream after running up and down the stairs of a house full of broken but never discarded toys, protecting a daughter that wasn’t there, in a role that wasn’t mine, in a place I had no idea how I had ended up in, after saving a naked, terrified kid, after seeing another one go, Taika hugged me and told me it was alright. The very personification of Comedy and Humor came to save me and held me and told me that it was all over now. And I felt such relief when I woke up...

Thanks, Taika of my dreams. Thank you for telling me that things are starting to work like they are supposed to inside my head because I couldn’t tell.

Also, this is very important, if someone could please draw Taika in The Pose from the end? That would be the greatest service ever done for the human race. It’s not personal. Thanks.

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spellyjane · 6 years

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Big Island Splash, Mash, Dash!

Belated Aloha, forgive me for taking two weeks to write this!

I thought we had landed on the moon as I descended the plane stairs onto the island of black volcanic rubble. After nine plus hours of flying I had arrived at Triathlon Mecca, Kona, a little town on a wisp of land in the middle of a massive ocean, noisy with wind and hot as hades.

Hawaii is halfway between Sydney and Chicago so provided the perfect location for a rendezvous with my Dad whom I had not seen for over a year. (Aww, thanks for coming and sharing this with me Dad. ×××)

“Downtown” Kona is small and super cute but that week was COMPLETELY overrun with compression-wear trussed, trucker hat clad, slightly weather beaten, uber athletic types. I almost fit right in.

I was pleased to get up and out of the hype on my first night, having a home cooked meal with my dear friends Ben and Lillian at their B&B located on a flower farm way above Kona. Ben and Lillian are a fab couple I met running in Jersey City. I laughed off their prediction back in 2013 after my first 70.3 that I would one day race at Kona, thinking of course that will never happen because I will NEVER do an Ironman. I was beyond flattered to receive a message from these guys on my return home from IM Texas with my IMWC slot secured, telling me that they had booked their flights to Kona! Just wow.

At the suggestion of a friend I had signed up for the big charity Underpants run. Yes! Why not? It is for charity, I figured that if I had to endure running along behind ironmen in their tighty whities, well it would be worth it, for the charity of course. I wore a pair of huge granny dacks sporting a kangaroo waving an Aussie flag on the butt and dragged my poor Dad to the start line. He did not run, just observed… (that sounds way more creepy that it really was.) I met up with some friends Mike, a seasoned Kona participant and Jeff a green Kona rookie just like me.

We had a hoot, Mike and Jeff were happy to be stuck behind the Coeur Team girls, how shallow, I mean really? Post run “analysis” and breakfast at Evolution hit the spot. Oh a tip for Underpants Run rookies I gleaned from post race observation: sweaty tighty whities may leave you exposing a whole lot more than you anticipated.

Simon arrived on the Thursday. We had decided to leave the kids solo in Chicago… just kidding, our friends Alex and Theresa stepped in there. Theresa was so super cute, she called the schools to make sure the boys got there ok, drove the boys to their after school triathlon sessions and gave up their whole weekend too! What a load off our minds, we were so grateful.

I was able to squeeze in some down time. Dad, Simon and I spent Thursday afternoon sitting on the lanai of our apartment sipping a beer, watching the sun go down, taking a million photos and solving the world’s problems. I don't get to chill with my Dad too often, spending time with my Dad like that has left a warm little glow in my heart. It was one of my favorite moments of the trip. (My Dad hates being in photos, but I do manage to snag him in a few pics on this trip.)

As amiable and easy going as you all know me to be, I knew I would be prone to a little pre Ironman World Championships fretting. I did not want to expose my loved ones to my potential dragon lady side so I sent Simon and Dad off to explore Volcano National Park on the other side of the Island on Friday. A rather unwelcome visitor arrived on Friday, perhaps the best euphemism I can use is “Aunt Flo”, what a cow, she was not invited and I was not expecting to see her. She threw me in a bit of a spin, but I pulled it together and added dealing with that to my race plan.

I got my race gear together, checked my bike and checked in. What an awesome hype! I had forgotten that I had listed my occupation on the Ironman registration form as “Secret Agent.” As I walked down the red carpet to check in they called me out, “Here is Kelly Phuah, she is competing in the women’s 45-49 age group…” [pause] “she is a secret agent!” Haha, cover blown!

I was welcomed into Transition by my very own volunteer escort, Craig. Craig and his wife, from Seattle, have been coming to the big Island for the last 10 years to volunteer for IMWC!

Whaaat!? I know right? Gulp, I felt a little overwhelmed at that moment. I racked my bike, hung my transition bags. Then I stood for a few moments on the red carpet, I let myself feel special for being there before heading off to eat and find an air conditioner!

I found my friend Mike and we talked race stuff and spectator logistics tips while sipping protein shakes with our feet up. It was the perfect pre race afternoon.

Dinner that night was right down in the middle of all the action at Honu’s, overlooking the athlete area and swim start with Ben, Lillian, Dad and Simon. There was much discussion over the spectator plans and I shared my hopeful race splits to help them know where I would be at certain times. I was worried about how the day was going to be for everyone who had come all that way to watch. I knew it would be a long hot day for them too.

I had to have the Hawaiian Pizza, oh wow, caramelized pineapple and kalua shredded pork, It was awesome!

I got antsy all of a sudden in the middle of dinner when I realised that I was doing a freaking Ironman the next day. I rushed our farewells with Ben and Lillian and dragged Dad and Simon home. I have no clear memory of going to bed or how I slept, my mind just leaps to Simon and I driving down Alii Drive at 4am!

Race Day

Goal: under 11hrs.

Gosh, how much detail can you handle? Do I make it sound epic and glamorous? I guess if you are reading this then you are either a really good friend or a weird triathlon junkie so I will just give you the ugly truth.

Treading water with 600 other women waiting for the start canon was crazy. Everyone was apologetically kicking each other. I looked back at the crowd on the shore and the pier and let the swell of excitement pick me up. I sighted the 1st boat and wiggled a little closer to the front. The cannon boomed and we turned from polite and apologetic to tiger sharks. I was kicked, swam over and grabbed, I had to restart my watch 3 times because the stop button was kicked. I am quite sure I did my fair share of kicking others too, it was impossible not to. And at one stage I found myself laying completely on top of another athlete, I have no idea where she,came from!

I found my rhythm eventually and was able to start really swimming. By about half way I could feel my speedsuit cutting into my neck and throat as I was sighting and turning to breathe. It left quite a good chafe and I looked like I had been strangled. I snuck a peak at my watch as we made the turn at the boats, I was happy to see I was on schedule for my goal of a sub 70min swim. I was enjoying the water, it was clear and fairly calm. I could see the bottom. I picked out a blue swim cap on the bottom and wondered if it’s owner was down there too. I made the last push to the pier and grabbed the stairs, I ripped off my speed suit with glee and made my way around to T1 on wobbly legs.

1:09:42

I rinsed off my face with some fresh water, grabbed my bag and dove into the tent, and with the help of another volunteer it was suit off, socks on, shoes on, glasses on, food in pocket, loo stop #1 and out to my bike. Helmet on and go go go.

4:44

Yay!! Spotted my posse as I took off on the bike.

Lol, my Dad showing me the way to go…

I settled in and got out onto the Queen K thinking ok Kona, show me what you’ve got, bring it, do your worst.

I had a plan, hold watts for an IF around .68-.69. Yeah, naa, that just did not feel right. I was hot and pushing those watts just felt a little more taxing than it should so I backed off a little and kept a closer eye on my effort than my watts. I guess the wind was kind because even at the lower watts I was still on schedule for a 5:40 bike.

The best tip from Mike, stay wet all day. So at every aid station I was grabbing a cold bottle of water and pouring it all over my body, it was keeping me relatively cool.

I was keeping an eye out for girls in my age group, I passed a few and but noticed as we got closer to the finish that we were all getting a little feisty and not letting each other get too far away.

The climb up to Hawi was the first time that I really felt good, not being familiar with the course had made me a little reserved but when I hit that climb I felt like I just had this one hard bit and I was more than half way. I made the turn for home at the top and launched myself down that descent with a mission. So much fun! I was ticking down the miles and aiming to be out on the run course in under 7hrs and that kept me on the gas all the way back into Kona.

Ugh, triathletes are disgusting, the visor on my helmet was totally aero but also saved me from taking a snot rocket the face. “Dude!!” I shouted as I passed, he looked really sorry, but still, look over your shoulder before you launch. Same goes for the girl taking a wee. Being splashed by someone else's piss is not cool either.

My guts were feeling a little sketchy nearing the end of the bike, I took a couple of Imodium hoping to hold off the horrible tummy cramps etc I seem to be prone to on the run.

I came hurtling down the bike finish chute, eyeballing my volunteer bike catcher, I dismounted like a swan gliding in for a landing on a lake while seamlessly passing my bike to the catcher. They will probably be playing that footage in the Kona highlights, because it was so freaking pro.

5:38:48

Into T2 in my socks, grabbed by bag, ripping off clothes as I ran, sort of like Superman - until my arms got hopelessly snagged in my super tight bike jersey and I resembled something more like a mad person trying to escape a straightjacket. Yay for those volunteers. So, shoes on, race belt in hand, loo stop #2 and off on the run.

4:33

Bahaaa, happens every time, my body rejoices for the 1st 2 km and I am lulled into a false sense of, “Oh hell yeah, I am going to be so amazing.” A quick glance at my overall time on my watch had me out on the run course in under 7 hours, yessss. I felt so confident that I was going to make that 11hr goal. All I had to do was manage a 4 hr marathon. Then at about kilometer 3 it began to suck. I saw my posse again at around this point, Simon and Ben ran alongside, giving me my position in the field and who was where, at that moment, they could have told me that there was a lion chasing me and it would not have made the bit of difference to my pace.

I ran on in misery, downing a couple more Imodium for my increasingly cranky gut. I had been taking salt tabs every hour, I had had mucho electrolytes and fluids on the bike and about 200 cals/hr all tried and tested and to plan.

Anyway, my mood began to shift, the discomfort in my gut was relieved for a little while. I was given a huge piece of ice at an aid station. I sucked it, rubbed it on my body, down my legs and sides, down my arms and over my face, I bit little pieces off and when it was small enough it put it down my top. (My gosh, that almost sound erotic - it quite possibly was!) By the time I was heading back along Alii Drive and saw my posse again, I was a different girl.

I got down to business, thinking, tidy posture, keep hydrated and wet. I was sad to see a few girls in my AG glide by but just kept to my own race and reminded myself that a sub 11 hr race was my goal and that racing someone else's game was not smart. There were 2 more loo stops on the run course, the last being out on Energy Lab road with about 16k / 10miles to go. After that I was feeling much better. I made it up out of the Energy Lab climb and headed for home gritting my teeth to hold on to that 4 hr marathon but intermittently smiling because I totally knew I was going to do it.

I was surprised to see another friend Liz cheering me on as I turned off the Queen K down Palani rd. Eek, that downhill was ugly, ouch, I felt like a robot, horrible form that I just could not fix at that point. I nearly cried when Simon told me I had a mile to go. A mile! Oh just make this OVER! Finally I entered the finish chute with an idiotic grin, feeling emotional, tired and proud. I punched the air 2 times as I crossed the finish line.

3:58:44

Total time: 10:56:31, 16/88 F45-49

So much room for improvement!

A friend asked me that night if I was keen to do it again, it only took one sleep for that answer to go from no way to yeah, I need another crack at that.

I got to spend another couple of days with Dad before we took off to opposite sides of the earth again. I was glad we got to see the town transform back into the cute little town it is 51 weeks of the year.

Mahalo!

I am surrounded by really hard working and intelligent people, people who inspire me to push myself and to be humble. (Well, I try with the humble bit.) I don't know many people more hard working and intelligent than Simon, he blows me away with his own dedication and humility and I live my life struggling to keep up with him. He is my biggest fan and I would not be doing any of this without his support.

My race experience was made really special with the support and fun with Ben, Lillian, Dad, Mike, Jeff, Liz and and Simon. Oh guys, thanks a million.

The online messages and texts from my family, my INTENT team mates, and friends were wonderful!! Pre race pep talks from my very good friend Jeff kept me in check. Much love to everyone who was following my race online and cheering along at home

My coach Rick Schopp at INTENT is also one of those inspiring people, I have put myself into painville at his instruction so many times but I am still here, I am still keen and I am getting faster. He has shown me that the pain pays off. Sending me the Urban dictionary definition of whinge when I slightly lost my shit during my second last intense training week leading into Kona was just the kick in the pants I needed.

(That sounds rough, he may have added a few additional kind words in there too.)

Much love to Alex and Theresa for taking great care of our boys while we were away.

Many thanks to the volunteers who gave their time and to the super cute little town of Kona for letting us take over!

Mahalo xo

Now I count down just a few weeks to Ironman Cozumel before we pack up and make the very exciting move to Denver, Colorado! Two more years in the USA before we head back to Australia.

Pic credits: Thanks Ben, Lillian and Simon

#racewithINTENT #iamspecialized #kona #IMWC17 #triathlon #ironman

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woahtherebuddyfriend · 7 years

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Regret and Rosewater

If you'll be my star,_ I'll be your sky_

My grand mother always said to me ‘_Amalia, love is a laborious and limitless experience that every person has the right to feel.’ _Out of all the pearls of wisdom my grandmother gave me throughout my teenaged years, this was the one that struck a chord. It stuck with me for years after she had passed away. I never really thought about why this had stayed with me, why it had burrowed itself deep into the back of my mind. Maybe it was because of the story behind it or maybe it was because I knew, she really meant it.

I remember that as I was sifting through photographs with her one weekend, I came across one particularly special photograph that stilled smelt of sweat, alcohol and fresh mud.

‘The smell of teenaged angst and music festival clichés.’ She sighed.

There was hurt there and it was starting to come to life in the form of small rivers slowly flowing, streams trickling down her face. It hurt to see her upset this way. I’d seen my grandmother cry before, like when my grandfather died, She’d wailed and sobbed violently for hours. But this was different kid of hurt; this was a lasting kind of hurt. The kind of hurt that came from lack of closure. Like a wound that just wont heal, because you keep prodding at it.

‘Rosalie Gregor; A free-spirited and well-travelled student. Woodstock wasn’t normally the place to find young girls as well off as Rosalie and yet there she was.’ My grandmother loved telling this story. Being the eldest of 5 grandchildren each and every time one of my brothers or sister asked the fated question ‘When was the first time you fell in love, nanna?” I was always there to listen, always there to hear those fleeting memories. Being the type of person my grandmother was, her first response was always ‘The first time I held my child in my arms.’ To my siblings, this is always laughable, ‘No, nanna! Real love!’ they say, ‘You know, the kind of love a princess feels for a prince.’ Should always go on a tangent about what real love was and how everybody experienced it differently. But even our juvenile minds could understand the undying love she felt for her princess, Rosalie. Of course she loved our grandfather, Geoffrey, too. No one could deny that, and yet whenever we asked about love her mind seemed to float to Rosalie first.

You can hide underneath me and come out at night.

My sister was always a wild card. She always marched to the beat of her own drum and refused to ‘hand over the sheet music to her melody’ as she put it. When she announced that she was going to a three-day music festival all about ‘peace and love’ my parents immediately categorised that as the first red flag of teenaged rebellion. This nature of defiance irked my parents. They had raised us to be well functioning and well-behaved members of society, or so they told us. What that really meant for us was we constantly had strict parents breathing down our necks, their breath thick with the stench of overly high expectations.

‘I’m going for the music! For the art!!’ my sister pleaded with our parents for hours and came up short until one last sneaky tactic ensured her right to go,

‘Stuart is coming with me…’

I loved my sister with all my heart but I did not under any circumstance want to go to a music festival with her. But she put my thoughts at ease when she turned away from our mother, who was deep in thought by this point, and winked at me.

I came to pick her up on the third day of the festival expecting to see crowds dwindling but they had tripled in numbers since I dropped her off. After a few minutes of wonder through the crowds I stumbled upon my sisters set up, exactly where we had agreed it would be when I had dropped her off. When I opened the fly I expected to see my sister, patiently sitting and waiting for me to pick her up. Never would I have expected to see her naked, entangled in the sweaty limbs of a young woman who I had never met.

Their juvenile love affair lasted months until the young girl, who’s name happened to be Meredith, moved away due to her father’s job. Rosalie eventually moved on however reluctant she was, and started dating a young named Geoffrey. But even after finishing high school everyday I spoke to Rosalie she seemed more and more abandoned. The sorrow was dripping from her voice leading up to months before her death. She left this world without closure. Without her Meredith.

_When I turn jet black and you show off your light

I reached out to her. My heart still aching from the loss it had endure. Cancer. To some it is nothing more than a distant fact. To me it meant a heavy loss, the loss of a young life, the loss of my fiancé. I reached out to her, because I know that was what Rosalie always wanted to do. Because that’s what Rosalie would have wanted me to do. I reached out to her. I extended my arm into the void and hoped to come up aces. It took weeks, months even, but I found her. She was radiant, a youthful glow swept across her halo of blonde hair and I could finally see what Rosalie saw. At first she didn’t understand, it was almost like I wasn’t speaking in an alien tongue and then the information hit her. It her like a ton of bricks, it hit her with such force she buckled over in her seat. And that was the moment, when I saw oceans in this strangers eyes, the moment I finally understood the full brunt of what I had done.

Metaphorically Rosalie was a bird and I her cage I needed to let her spread her wings and be the free spirit she was breed to be. I kept her close and stopped her from leaving my safety, but in doing some I caged her life essence. I had kept her from seeing the one she thought of late at night and early in the morning. All because I feared that if I did, my bird wouldn’t return, that my bird wouldn’t sing for me anymore.

I could finally see what I had done. I kept Rosalie and Meredith apart, for my own selfish security. Meredith and I bonded over our mutual pining for the loss of our first love. We grew close; so close we decided that we should live with one another for support, Until Meredith got back on her feet and I mine. As months blurred into years and tears were shed and dried, somewhere along the lines an ugly monster called love reared its head. Children came and so did anniversaries. We stayed together and although we were happy there was always a deeply rooted longing. We never discussed it but we both knew whom we’d rather be with.

I live to let you shine

Three people. Tied together through fate. How things could have been, no one will ever know. But there is something we know, we know how it would have been preferred to happen. We know Rosalie deserved Meredith and we know Geoffrey deserved a deeper love than what Meredith offered. We know all this and yet our knowledge of what could or should have been will never change what was. It’s like a bird, reluctant to make the journey south only to realise one moment to late that he isn’t bound by anything and he can go where he pleases. It’s like an invisible chain we bind ourselves in. We always wonder why birds, which are so free to do as they please, stay in the same place. But why don’t we ever ask ourselves the same thing?

@shiroukun

#short story #original story #Gregory and the hawk #Boats and birds #this was the only way i could share it with you dear #i hope you like it #and i hope its not to romance-y for you

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peterwilliamrandall-blog · 7 years

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RACE YOU TO THE END

(Page 2)

RACE YOU TO THE END.

Zap fluid

Tattooied

Cape

Escapalar

Just come round

[]

Feliceline

Certitude

(Page 3)

I was not over there and I am home, to think of lying

Writing.

All is bare.

Here no change or clean for weeks, ashamed

Of my death drinking, no bush beating futilise meeting

To save life, when the lollipop Ludy is in more of a

Perils a swinger than the shore.

I stand up for the lost and the lonely.

Listen to not be lonely when

Lost, it can comfort, and it

Can provide love lost.

But not console in.

I feel sick. Everyone is thinking

Why does this bloke not just fuck off.

Like that treacle moose

Banger stranger

Hanging on tight

With the compose

Closed.

Doing it again

I must want to go.

I'm tired.

Piss-take

Masquerade.

In the night there's a star

Spaces few and far

And shining in the light.

Lean across the sky.

My demon.

The exile

Why be so superficial,

Ask how human unbecomes

Kings to see trees

Branch-leaf, clouds

All against togetherness

Why where I want now.

Uni-disconcern.

Fuck Fuck (sake) so easily ignored

If moodily read even this (excuse arrogant GH)

Elexus flunk grab town

And haunt demonic rumours

Above dusty old worlds

Listen to me all toward

A life that I can

(Page 4)

Afford.

A suck shock tight cock sick every night.

(Page 5)

Mincy fincey partwork and Mrs Rante can I go in your ship or)

lit a roll ran out of fags, got some killer so timeless litters the sense

or says courage is asking what am I doing here. Cushion, plate, lighter, fuel,

crackles in Gaza lesser morgue the radio queen again submit to have to make

critical list of the unwell and rubbish straight in at once. Mungo, Mary, Midge

more to confused be and more sensitive to refuse to the purpose of a man is to

love his woman and the purpose ofr a woman is to love her man. Agreeable

countenance is illustrious disasters in decision.

This year of suspenders, a garter, used up protection to be this

repulsed by day and night must have taken some slavish design. You are

not a cause, it causes you and are have the wreckage zoomed across the waves

I miss it but am aware of the foul consequence.

In their faces, voices, a caution of a tale I tell young pretty as ever be

lipstick, heels, Mick oni and heroin. rqbble with the rabble. Jim'll fix it

and he did twenty one and gone to be a celebrity in deadland auntie certain

suspects Alexkiss cross end round and round and aint royalty by lay or andalooseya

When care abundance greed vantage stealer, other things that life'll

kill ya.

No bones about its drug addict is the admiral compass conflict the original

all day sunday echoes, why are we not here with them. Dont even start

me on Monday in the case of inconsequence you find that guilt in a delay

a negligée one say one two many looks too true you toot, chop chop!

secret agent codename I am on story's of buses gloves cutlass tunnels disbelief

what was more was a glimpse of January 2010 its laast week, the premise

delerious. Then I always find out they dont understand about. Yet there is one

that can and it three times shade the Monday's mood. From anywhere in

the world sky, sea, earth fast as real.

that inception had a just thing for memo wolfe death

is in when you can't get out and you can fight I don't know what

happens if you give up in that place. Give up to get there Fuck that I

cant make a report. So everyone fuck off, death guaranteed.

(Page 6)

A suck shock tight cock sick every night.

How much.

I really wonder. For.

you and there's me.

Chicoola

Ngichlela ngo tando

Niacula Kelengi lungu

Nthando luyaboga

Jikele Kulombluba wethu

Left at that now

shall I cash in on my memories

I decided to a long time ago. ago

that is why

I have lived in a style

arty nemo starts from how I

where I, what I, it and so,

and then all the more, unbrace, trance

Tracy, then after the dance has gone.

Accordian go gringo, hombre, Bruv, Geez,

Thingy, An all that, if you are

Cark from Kryptonyour name sir cant even

even. greese fifteen, cobra car, the

blind eveal to fits of secret nits must be

another sight.

Fate Bastard, orphan or vicious chance, lapse cruise.

The use of alcohol and drugs

or the bond of lovebound for the coast

of the last moment if you can realise. When

that was

Grand and the deathspear is

someaside!

Tapdance to this struggle

lift from that desperate to the beauty

of course its ageless

I am in disgrace.

Still live with truth

No breaks in the sequence, I want

to accept my apologies

Nuck For you!

(Page 8)

What a widow handgun, see it repeat giveback. To charity that blaze

is only for teen, age is a ripped up early photograph of

Charles Pierre, guess I guess, Decisions and Banished bloodshot

eyes in fights and then what smoking and ravy swallow that

cheap old gravy. Fight for what you don't know about, don't

happen no more. Its a knockout.

No lost come there- where is that if you are in,

sight do trades in, panic and solving convertthat art that ain't it.

Grease the rope stake therfor who needs rejection,

this life is straight up gone, where

no-one knows.

The howl, evil flowers athe edge

A phony pinch on charles that said ham.sick of then, that.Confusion is the wisdom

we generally offer children to study.

You fucking fucker horrid arseholes.someone can have a say.

I'm well into my friend changing them.

Try to show off with a galloping Gee-Whizz.A musical say, say,

is interest cool, warm or

boiling hot, I dare to say that I do not

give up, on friends, loves, legends

scupper the timbre, class is out, in

Broke and scuppered and bucketing.

Under and in.

In a cruise age

glue, blew

it hurt the one armed

Bandit. Toby Chang.

Must be listening to

Someone watching Resevoir Dogs

No disrespect,

but what a fucking lot of shoot

this piece of shit and cough

up some green

vocabulary.

While I mean wayany rector

you cheap steal of a catapilla

what! slugs and slugs

The purpose of a man is to love his woman

And the purpose of a woman is to love her man

[IAM DYEING]

(Page 9)

I have made the grievous mistake

of thought that blazoned paper

is my answer.

What - keep control, do not

Fuck yourself, even that you become

sure its my fault. Come be, what

is the sunrise, the moon fades,

The seas do not rise no

speck smashes this earth into

not being cool.

The odds on that.

If you did not understand

a speck of dust, A incalculable

as has the size never been thought.

At more millions of miles per second,

lets just say it was half. Tell me, I told you

They said I can't help it.

Just by chance

They went to the neighbourhood dance

to be all young and lady

lary is ugly, used, old.

Lary is funny to avoid

as long as you do.

Assault Pike, giraffe.

\Cohorts, dolce vita

Downtown screwed on a bench

piping, people passing

Blinding.

Cancell the too nervous assassin

Ten Silk Cut on the way back.

Although

Lucky Strike

might

do the trick.

(Page 10)

A fight with death.

The first that I remember, I will describe as

Being paralysed .. in a dark room a floor down from where

I should be calling for help and [moirne] cowing for

A long time. I was scared angry and would have given

Anything that I did not have for someone to lift me

Out of there. More than a day in intense discomfort and

Despair – why could I not get out of there.

WORLD NEWS new years eve 2010 – The murder of a

Beautiful young girl early twenties. Strangled and dumped.

Against that nothing really abates my, and sure I,

Evidence of disbelieve, then more killing and rape

Around the world, floods, and sadness. But it’s

Alright they played games with balls without balls.

Oh how fucking sick am I. *

Cannot one take the hint –

Novice – The trajectory of this existence.

FUCKED.

Well and true. Could be any day now. We are

A race about to cross the line. Chequered flag

And past.

Why wait.

No excuses

Forgiveness

Un.

Calm as far too far and far too later

Than warned. Hamas up.

Black magic while if you can even

Rival a home of monstrous

Symbols. I’ll watch that

Filthy canal and waited. Gonna

Be cathartic. Cure abandoned by

It is my weight and Peter my

Mine how it justices. You

Did bring catastrophe. And I

Do not know fucking fuck cunting

Why. Eccentric Rakcer silence

Changes [burne]. You will be aware

Of the tidal magic. You careless

Chucked and kalashnikoved my world.

If I am mad kill me.

Suicidal unhappiness desperate yes OK and misfortune then since ever cat as trophy

kerchief

(Page 11)

I KONFRONTED THE ACCUSED WITH MY GAZE AGAINST ALL THE WORLD WILD MANIAC.

OLD GIT, UNFIT.

And very well

At illness

COUNTER

(drawing)

(Page 12)

CRAP CHAPTER TALKING SHIT

TO ALWE and of all the emotions more bold than have ever before

fought like fuck to hold on and for my life as close as the

dead of night when you wake up alone silence scary

how to feel as nearest and sick and ask your destruction

to take hold and answer bleak grim and cruelly shake

eyes on a ceiling nowhere to look. Cold no money

police addition regret cripple. Wait. A while hurt will

be fresh being prolific adulterer if hurt with

others in contortion.hurt with this time that one

Always a push toward the courage I want.

To show away is still here and was always

anyhow.

Nonsense is there. In every window street

sky person screen communication, words the whole

shebang.

If it were not for one other. And he

knows. I could be that I am not sure.

Unsure could come enough times to be so.

To be some authority or disappointment. My failures

are described as spectacular.. Thing is I like that kind of idiot.

Aspire to Olympianic hero. set

sail.Tell a beautiful story. music to

live to.

Or sit hunched, abusing poison corrupt and pollute every part of me and the time

I strangle - continue to demonstrate with

expertise being an arsehole.

The swagger staggering of the non-one-hit.

blunder.

"But he's really talented" - fuck off.

or we can shoot acid, crack heroin

have pills valium ecstasy any fucking thing there is,

drink a couple of bottles of cheap vodka

But, smoke some weed and chill.

A smashing day in, in your your flea infested

forget not to eat anything. Fortnight of

that and if the magic carpet carpet can't come.

This time will be that and that's that.

you fucking moron, moron me not any other moron.

Brief description as I am vain. Maloderous

skeletal schock of distress. Continual vomiting - flem

machine. That which I consider sane and joining in

daily or night time actions - discussions etc,

others, in fact everyone I have a contact with

considers repulsive anti-social and go as far

as to mention a kind of insanity that as

far as to be concerned could be the secret

agents of one or another afterlife.

Confirmed

when claims of previous acts so peculiar and

that I have no memory or hint of recognition

of their look name or outlandish tales. All

leads me to stick to my layout of events

Years are a confusion. And I can defend

my slight lapses of memory to age and

very hard and stressful work.

I can remember a couple of things, but live

in the moment, then the next one. Why care

making effort to memorise when you are getting on with it?

(Page 13)

Lets get at it from the pink panter pantin pink

My krum[] Im dark I be like

Wight. [] Bachs harmonys if I

Am mistaken the nature of Nienval Here

Together ever aware surier is that puer

At you + AVE, T, Geronimo fact old

Compassion I met romance I got love on me looking

out how can [] to be lured is all. Without

call imagined I love and be loved I laugh I

[]

Is to have all fear disappear the worry

The shape of the world and to be that

Hard cumid like no not love to know who

Woman is because then I could really be

The wall spreed brokos would put thain

Shirt on it. No exchange can bargain

In every gang in misunderstanding of the word

Blame mistrust

And they assumed me that I

Am a multimillionaire but they were that

Empty armchair.

Still, but that’s all aside you could try

To convince me that I have a Saturday

Night fever and the man with a golden gun is a kaleidoscope of

Gens looking at me was violin

Music.

I must amount a charge

Cut my path the say shit

Fluid.

Lattrapid yet reputed, for

Skullduggery, not lit but well

Bugger me

The eraze the age of

Me.

Curiosity

Egyptian in a gunpowder

What’s to say

Then was ever

And no invention.

(Page 14)

And I have to stay alive. The most simple,

Can even enjoy. For me this is a day to day I don’t

Want to. I’m not to write here about. I’m afraid

Sad .. to be called Frank or Ernie or just a drunk

Heroin crackhead. Delight hard open wicket there,

Balls remain. I gonna run. Or I ran. The rent

Run risk rough ripped rhode Londron, relic, rash

Rubbish.

I am glad to say I am as ill today as ever

Has before. Quite accomplished solutions intrude the

Bloodstream. Crooks and nanny aside I would not

Abide to fee fy falsify in certain terms, there is not

Motivation or need, my reputation a guarantee. Worth

Both make and believe.

And icy reflection patterns this room

In a late early new year blank laziness for

Uniform.

The where I have not the, exactly

Is what I cannot say. I would sleep fortune.

A life away .. Dishonesty weakly needless

Declare my passion the destiny. Then the glorious

And victory erased from language. Imprisonragbe

My sure staff wags crackling.

Discountry is dissinisterly

Endured it’s nare the creep creeping

Upon me, tired so tired. It begins to engage

Agree. Would be so easy. No more of that

Or of then and though and more so no more

Of this.

Discomfort I adore, sickness I make certain

Sure.

Accidents the luxurious claim of

Innocents, fact follow the accidentee with a brief

Study of past actions, the ban of acts or act

In not too far future will I doubt fail to unveil

That word accident came by stumble spill ink of

Most likely a greed to gain advantage of

Someones misfortune. Insurance a very chance relies

On accidentalance.

To why limit snap grot and furniture

Of nonsense. To waste time to fulfil a space to

Be over so a despond errant in my way.

That I will so called exist

There afar Gulliver, Crusoe, Hyde and Oliver I

Do not fear to relive my beautiful friends.

Catechism the word got rhythm, and you, make you and it

Rhymes with prison.

I can feel a mission coming into vision

Like dream for a religion I was living I was

Dying and soul I will revive the life

And try to describe as well as I can when

Fighting to survive to stay alive.

That’s later

I going to Gunter Grove – coming.

(another page)

I ain´t gonna make it. A reprise

Knew I was seirxing act dizguise. It was

Already no realise. Come that time that

art my life. The chat I-chat in mind

is it cause I could not replicate

The lives of the money makers

fame equalcors - so I had

to make my own original sound

That made me as the song says

Bohemian trinketá.

A required taste.

Drugs and boozer - loser

Refuse.

A guide on how to fail

And fuck the ass out

of how to lose

Because its real

Will be thirty pence

and second hand

Then used to wipe

The Ass Baboon.

What if it went the other way

And no more reborn; acknowledged

As past and future G. Yeah

Boy that rack everest need

A machine the size of God.

All ThEM BLOOD Red Painted

Wolfcitys. MAYhem is PEACE

AND education becomes

what it needs to be

Emotion, respect, love

Learning Lyric´fuckin´ly

Are you gettin me

Not from no ghetto

And thats not how I speak

All school should be to

a Killer beat.

The gift of posture

very thgm, energy.

#poetry #peterwolfe #wolfman #petedoherty

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