SPECIAL SERIES…
AN EIGHT PART WEEKEND SPECIAL

PROLOGUE

Being me is a crazy state of affairs.. a mind full of thoughts.. dark yet alive…and being left alone with practically nothing to do (over a weekend)…I couldn’t help but write, rant, shout, scream, cry, jump, laugh, muse and sometimes even smile all through words and letters on pieces of paper…. This eight part series started off as a note on the back of a used tissue while I sat in the patio watching the rain, and ended with me sitting in the darkness of my room while the flame of the lone candle giving me company danced to my thoughts…


Part I
Friday the 15th

A Weekend From Hell…

(Explicit Content... Reader discretion required)

Woke up cold… and shivering... I was still in bed, yet freezing… Glen[1] had gone to sleep, very unlike Glen... my head hurt and I could hear the devil cry…. Arghhh I had woken up to a hell stuck inside a deep freezeeeeeeeeeeeee….
The constant wailing and the chaos outside needed attention, weary, I slowly dragged my useless arse out of my once warm bed…my eyes red and puffed and my hair ….LORD…. my hair…!!!!!
Time came to a stand still as I stood in the hallway…my life coming to a screeching halt… images (freeze frame)… a wailing child ….a screaming mother… and a pitiful husband all of whom stood in front of me[2]… I wish I had dropped dead or never woken up…. But…if only….

BANG it hit me like a freight train and left me gasping for air as I read the eviction notice… my world or whatever was left of it fell apart (YET FUCKIN AGAIN)[3], I was sinking slow, the wooden panels below gave way to quick sand which was slowly though surely sucking me in…I was drowning in my own filth of misfortunes WHY ME!!!!????!!!!
After having escaped the clutches of a gay nudist and the murder camps from hell I had just moved into this little heaven and was beginning to call it ‘my home’… and now I was faced with this GOD FUCKIN FORSAKEN eviction notice… that BITCH (landfuckinlady) hadn’t paid her mortgage… which entailed that we the poor tenants had to evict bag baggage ( luckily I neither own any bags nor any baggage.. phew!!!) …..

I wish it had ended there ( in which case I would have quietly gone back to my room lit a cig, switched on Glen, checked my mail and heard some music)… but nooo….. the landfuckinlady had not even paid the bills which meant all the essential services were disconnected ( only to be restored sometime on Monday ( or so I thought in the original draft))… which meant one and only one thing… a weekend from hell... with no lights… heating.. And most importantly NO internet… my life line... my only link to the outside world…..
But… I could survive this... couldn’t I ? considering back in 2002 my then flat mates and me had lived 11 days without any of the above mentioned services, after my then land lord had decided to fuck us up ( don’t blame him really... we had ‘happily’ smoked up all his rent for 3 whole months ) but this was different… fuck this was different….

Now really!!! there are a lot of people out there who need to be killed shot and murdered.. but if there ever was one that needed to be killed instantly and painfully it had to be my conniving lying landfuckinlady.. I really do.. in fact after this weekend I wanna kill every fuckin Scott ( William FUCKIN WALLACE included but ain’t that arse of a hole already dead) that walked the face of this God forsaken wretched planet….

[1] IBM R 52 Think pad
[2] My Current Flat mates
[3] Refer to earlier posts

Part II-
Sometime Late on Friday night

The Weekend Ranting Continues….
Train Spotting……

Stuck in this Scottish hell ( FOR NO FAULT OF MY OWN) I feel it is pertinent for all of ya’ll to know what Tommy Renton ( Ewan Mcgregor) opines about Scotts... AND I in more ways than one concur in toto


“ …..WE( Scotts) ARE THE LAST OF THE LOT, THE SCUM OF THE FUCKIN EARTH, MOST WRETCHED MISERABLE SERVILE PATHETIC TRASH THAT’S EVER SHAGGED CIVILIZATION, SOME PEOPLE HATE THE ENGLISH, I DON’T… THEY ARE JUST WANKERS, WE ON OTHER HAND ARE COLONIZED BY WANKERS, CANT EVEN FIND A DECENT CULTURE TO BE COLONIZED BY, WE ARE JUST RULED BY A FEW ARSE HOLES, IT’S A SHIATE STATE OF AFFAIRS TO BE IN, AND ALL THE FRESH AIR IN THE WORLD WONT MAKE ANY FUCKIN DIFFERENCE…..”

Tommy My Man I Couldn’t Have Put It Better…

( P.S, Angie No offence. The doctrine of exception applies to you in toto)

Part III-
Musing on Saturday Evening…

A Life Less Worth Living

A winter that never ends, a night that never sees the light of the day, caught in a flux life seems to have come to stand still... a year and you forget what it feels to have the summer sun breathing down your neck or the sight of the light at the end of the tunnel.
A year to date in this prison… and you search for those simple reasons to live everyday… you dream for that sun to rise... but it’s just a dream... you walked away from a life you once called your own... only with the hope to be back soon, but even before you knew it, you found yourself marooned on this island... in this prison… the life you left behind moved on, while you stood there only to find yourself picking up those pieces.
You spend many long nights here in this cell, alone in the dark with nothing but your thoughts time can draw out like a blade
You find yourself caught in the path of a tornado, but you live with the hope that no storm lasts forever, but slowly you find yourself losing that hope, some one once said… get busy living or get busy dying and now you cant make that simple yet stifling choice…

Part IV-
Losing my head by late Saturday night

Freedom from the Fear Within…

Am I scared? Maybe I am, scared of my self... scared of this life I call my own... I just want to run away from this all. Maybe run away from my self, maybe then ill be free, free from the shackles from the past.
Most say, running away is an act of cowardice but I beg to differ, its infact tougher than just living in the rut they call life, people walk away leaving you behind to pick up what’s left and what they didn’t want, which in most cases is nothing more than those dark images I talk about... and none of it makes sense to me no more…
Waking up to nothing is not what I had dreamt off…holding on to all those images in my head before I head to bed is not what I had hoped for, and now all I hope for is that freedom coz I know, hope is a good thing… maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies…
I find I am so excited with the thought of that freedom in my head, a thought only a free man can feel before the start of a long journey, the conclusion of which is uncertain… I hope I can make it across and find that freedom... I hope I can run from my fear... I hope…

Part V –
Drowning In the Depths of Depression by early Sunday Morning

Turn back time

Been a year since I met him last... hugging him goodbye, I promised to be back, now all I am left with is the image I see every time I look at my self in the mirror.

It was a wet muggy evening a year ago… and he stood there, waving me goodbye, if only I knew that it was the last time I would see or meet him, maybe just maybe I would have had more to say to him than just that simple goodbye with the promise to be back…

As I walked away from him that evening, a chapter I took for granted all my life came to an end, a few months later I found my self standing over the hot ashes that once was the man I miss so much now….

The man, who taught me to hold a cricket bat, or unsuccessfully fly a kite, was reduced to uncomplexed images and the sight of his ashes being washed down the river…. It’s a harsh truth to face… all I do anymore is to hope I can turn back time so maybe I could meet him for one last time… terrible thing to live in, fear…all I want is to be back where things make sense.. where I wont have to be afraid all the time….

Part VI-
Sunday Night Torture

My greasy friend Insomnia

With insomnia nothing is real, reality is far away, everything is a copy of a copy of a copy... when you have insomnia you are never really asleep and never really awake… a surreal dance of unwanted existence... you float within a bubble of never ending dejavu…no matter what you do… its never new… its beautiful..
Empty football fields of stark nothingness…reflections from your present demean the presence of your past.
Lost in an oblivion, dark, silent and complete... somewhere you find freedom... yet losing all hope in that freedom wrapped around you…. You become addicted... every night you die and every night you are born again…resurrected…….

Past VII-
Law Pod to the rescue By Early Monday Morning…


Musical Reprise….


Reprise… wasted… lost... an outlet...soul crunching solos in the back ground... lyrics that make ya wanna kill yourself or shoot your neighbor…. Head spins, your body sways to the rhythm… eyes shut your mind wanders to the ebbs of that desolate place your mind begs you not to leave ... its a drug... a high ….an orgasm, simple yet complexed, an orchestrated harmony of ecstasy.. You let go of it all… the pain… the impending bills… the lack of a home… lighting… heating… internet and all the shit that makes ya wanna curl up and die….
Spread eagle on the floor even the Scottish winter feels like a Mediterranean delight… you grow wings ya never thought ya had… no amount of alcohol or weed can get ya there..
Entwined in darkness its just you and the music that plays in ya wee head…ya cant hear it no more... ya only feel it like knives cutting you slow, the warmth of ya own blood washing it all… … its there…simple yet resolute… destined to take over your body mind and even your soul you once sold at the pawn shop... suddenly there are no unlock able locks or unwinnable wars….its just you and the music in ya head… loud and yet your own…

Part VIII

Late Monday Night – Nostalgia Beckons

A Moment in Thimpu[1] A Memory for a Life Time

Its magical... invoking a surreal feeling of spiritual existence
Pristine blue skies strewn with shapeless clusters of cumulus, like cotton they float down the slopes with the zephyr searching for a soul to touch …. The crisp breeze… fresh like a mountain spring...
The rocky paths paving its way through the surrounding mystical Monasteries all along the prayer flags dancing in the wind...
The temple bells chime in the distance… The smell of freshly burned musk mixed with delicious odor of freshly baked momos lingers.
Bright Rhodendrons bloom on the distant slopes… flames of the forest play their little games on the snow clad slopes…
An orchestra of this mountainous paradise playing nature’s own symphony ….

[1] Capital of Bhutan

Epilogue...

4 days of hell are almost over and I am about to shift base to the University Library, after a sojourn through the dark ages here are a few essential tips on how to survive if ya ever get fucked over by a Scottish Land Lady.

1. Never come to Scotland... all that beauty… whiskey and bagpipes are just a cover up for the scams that lay hidden below …
2. Stock yourself with cigarettes, if you don’t smoke you have no idea what you are missing out on... this is a good time to start... it keeps you warm
3. Valiums... yea... those beautiful pills… get hold of 'em… stock ‘em store 'em… shall help you turn long lonely nights spent in the cold to peaceful dreams
4. Orange juice... drink lots of it ( don’t ask me why.. but I am off alcohol.. any other weekend I would have advised on getting drunk.. but for someone who is trying to quit, orange juice seemed the only plausible alternative)
5. Stop using hot water for showers… there is no greater pleasure than taking a bath in freezing water…
6. Keep your I- pod at hand... if ya don’t have one... get loads of batteries for your Discman… Walkman. Etc…
7. And most importantly... be filthy fuckin rich… rich enough to buy your self a place anywhere you go… which would entail that you would never have to depend on those conniving bitches

A Dichotomy of a Fall...

Slow… I fall…. Just the thin air between me and the rocks below… it will soon be over… just a matter of a few seconds… everything slows down… the images around blur into a whirlpool of thoughts…this shall be the last fall…my only fall… I feel free ... free from the shackles off the past…

Slow, the rocks below look bigger…they take shape…the soft bed awaits my final fall… soon I might feel no pain… I shall drown in the warmth of my own blood… it shall wash it all away … though I can’t wait to feel the pain that awaits me…. it shall hopefully erase the past… the pain…the surreal life of wasted existence... this pain, that shall end it all... I can’t await my final fall…

When Darkness engulfed Time ....

Images in the dark…my minds full of them.. inane and painful they plague my existence…the wee lamps in the distance burn bright…my mundane existence seems to have plunged me into a black hole of self inflicted solitude… am a shadow of my former…burdened by the those images from the past… when did it all end…when did all those moments turn into images in my head… where did it all go.. . when and how did time fly me by….

Moon Dancing….

It descends slow... slow behind those Cider trees.. playing its lill games with me.. I lie sleepless watching the moon dance in the sky…darkness torn to bits by its soft glow… the ciders lit up by its touch.. I can see the mystic dance unfold right in front of my eyes…

A Paradise Lost....

It’s a cold September night and I cant stop sneezing, maybe I should just step back into my room snuggle up to my pillow and dream, but I cant, I d rather sit out in the patio and watch the clouds streak the sky.

Some white Chilean wine, dark chocolate and Floyd, a perfect recipe for some wasted thoughts taking shape into words on a white sheet of paper.
My mind seems to wander far into the abyss of dreams that line my thoughts, it’s just me and the stars that dot the sky and maybe even the moon that pretends to shine bright. I can’t help but think of the mountains I left behind, green and always covered with mist, the sound of the gushing monsoon springs, the fresh intoxicating breeze, and the music of a thousand crickets playing their final parody.

The wine does no good, I can shut my eyes and feel it all, feel the rain on my face and the mist in my hair... hands spread out and I am sure I can fly… the wee huts that line the sky... the smoke from their chimneys… the sweet smell of tea savored with goats milk… that’s home… that’s a paradise lost…..

A new beginning...

Back from the land of no return…from the oblivious into the abyss... leaving behind a trail of strewn memories and friends… I move on…move into a new space... a new room... a set of new walls …I am here … and it’s a wee strange…. A new shell… a new roof ... a… new window …a new view to stare into... a new bed to call home…

Its overwhelming... leaving behind all that and more… the rain... the last hugs... the final goodbyes...a paradox of overwhelming emotions… I find myself drowning in the ebbs of its constant flow… there is pain... but it’s all numbed… I feel lost… lost in the vastness of this wee space... empty yet crowded…beautiful yet strange …I shiver... but its warm… the night sky... it looks different… the view it ain't the same… it can never be… the Cathedral its gone… replaced by those meadows…

Change is inevitable… but I hate it… it leaves ya naked…cold and scared…. But this is a new beginning and I am off to make a fresh start leaving behind a whole hoard of issues only to find my self a set of new ones…

..........

Its there... that smile... ya can see it but you soo cant feel it... you see those eyes… deep and enchanting... ya heart skips a beat... you wanna touch her face and feel the skin on your bare hands... its all there... an image in your head.. An image ya cant let go... or rather an image that wont let go of ya... you are possessed... charmed... and imprisoned... ya wanna run away from it but ya cant... its not the past.. Its neither the future and it sure as hell ain’t the present... Its a walk on the beach while ya watch the sun go down and let the waves wash ya feet... its that breeze.. calm yet refreshing...
Bewildering questions just like her face haunt my sleep... it lacks color...but then so do dreams... its like a book without a cover.. a story without an ending... beautiful...enchanted yet cursed... you wanna sit across that face... you wanna make that image real... ... ya wanna add colors to it .... But you can’t..... That image... That face… it haunts me...