Sunday, May 22, 2005

Bathroom wall blues.

You know I spend a lot of time in the bathroom. It must be a genetic mutation, my fartza was a hippy but I like bathing. Whilst lying in a boiling hot tub I talk sing and laugh hysterically to myself. Afterwards when I join my family in the living room a silence descends and Mum Mad and Pootle, my two brothers stare at me. If this happens it means they have over heard me talking to myself. When I ask if they have Mad gives a 'witty' reply along the lines of, "The whole street heard you."
My bathtime conversations with myself are now a family joke, Mad described the situation to my farza as, "You walk past the bath room when Boogie's in it and all you can hear is: mutter mutter tee hee hee la la la la."
Its not a surprise that my audience, the bathroom walls object to some of the songs the juke box in my brain chooses to loop. Up late on Friday I ran myself the usual scolding hot bath and whilst I waited I sat naked on the loo singing Bikini kills "I like fucking" a frequent number on the bathroom playlist. Half way through the much repeated song the tiled walls decided to challenge my choice of tune.
Immediately sparks began to fly of the walls, stars flashing yellow and black. They curved slightly as they slowly fell onto the carpet. More stars replaced the ones that had already fallen to the floor, lots of these minute stars where braking out from the mold lined, pink flowered tiles. I found this rather disturbing and after blinking and rubbing my eyes to get rid of them I realized they wouldn't go away. Then I did what any normal mentally stable person would do in this situation, I sat on the toilet whimpering until they finally disappeared. I continued with my bath but not a single Bikini Kill line passed my lips.
The walls in my bathroom have plently of right to protest, I do sing that song way to much and do not blame them in the slightest of getting bored of it. I will now extend the playlist of songs that I know the words to, to give a nice variety of music for my changing audience.
Walls cannot live on Bikini Kill alone.

BOOGIE
* Disclaimer: No illegal substances where used in the making of this blog. Scary huh?!

Sunday, May 01, 2005

The day death wanted a piggy back.

Now and again I seem to dig my nails into something and not let go. Eventually it spirals out of control until there is nothing else except for that thing. The thing will grow gain breath leading to a sort of climax.
Recently my life started to flash before my eyes, throwing up images, faces from the past I didn't realize I'd saved. The obvious explanation was I was dying. That could be the only logical reason. The day that I thought I would die the morning brought the heavy weight of death on me and a very British grey sky to match. I carried death around with me all day. Fucking hell death weighs a ton.
Eventually I came to terms with it and promptly did a lot of things to fill my last day on this earth I've got so used to. I can't fully remember what most of those things were except for walking the dog with the wind whipping my hair around my face.

Going over my funeral in my mind it occurred to me I ought to warn someone that I was unexpectedly going to pop my clogs. A few minutes later I was on the PC clicking the send button; an email telling Sam "HELP IM GOING TO DIE . . . .SOON!" lay innocently in her inbox.
Then death decided to give me a break and by the evening I'd almost forgotten about my impending death. Later when I came online for my regular evening chat with Sam I found I'd left her in a worried suspense. At first I was completely baffled at what she was going on about. Then after she'd kindly reminded me I explained the whole thing to her. Sam wasn't freaked out not even slightly. It turns out she's been through similar experiences and after talking it through with her I felt much better. Once again Sam managed to keep me grounded.
Another thing I sank my claws into recently was the ambition to become a nun, that however is a different story. . . .
BOOGIE