She was pissed off. She had been drunk the night before and had come into the flat raving and spitting before eating a block of cheese and collapsing onto the bed. I got some clippers and shaved off her hair. I took the Action men out of my rucksack. Stashed earlier so she didn’t see them. It would have freaked her out. Twenty action men with angry action man faces. Stoical and steely as fuck. I glued her hair onto their heads with super glue and stood them around her bed, pointing their guns at her. Around them I gently entwined a set of blue fairy lights and they glowed. Their long hair and war clothes made them look like heavy metal warriors. She would love it…..
…because reality is assembled in the mind I suspect these incidents and inconsistencies happen all the time to everyone, but they are simply not noticed because our reality has never been so fundamentally questioned as it is.
It just fucking annoyed me, the whole shebang, the nitty gritty of dealing with their shit. The world is coming to a close man, and everything must go. Out like a light. We were in the pub and every gut that walked past she pushed her tits out so they fucking strained tight bursting button popping tits. Fucking hell, I laughed, snorted into my pint and beer went around a little and her fucking sex eyes turned ferret eyes and she looked at me like I was a ‘bastard’ and I was. My eyes were watering and I was looking at the bar mirrors and they were looking at me. One can dream about all the usual suspects. Her eyes were everywhere and she was the primal dreamadelica, the panic feet streakers….the bulb the bullshit the thankless fucking tasks and now I felt sick and away from her.
It was communist magic and had all the traps associated with it. The humming undercurrent was fascist and the sex had become politicised. But later when I was fucking her from behind and being a total sleaze she turned around and saw that I was the chaotic and the random variable. I slapped her arse hard and did the jazz fuck, chaotic rhythms interspersed with painful almost jarring juxtapositions and she freaked right out and fell down by the bed clawing at her face and sobbing in big gulping grunts as she ejaculated all over the floor.
Shes a fascinating fuck certainly. The fuck attention setting of sirens among the metaphysical planes and I know she’s mentally trying out schemes to get my attention. My proper attention. I was thinking about the Yin Yang sisters. I would ring them later and they would come around full of laughter and fun and nothing would draw a tear from their eyes. Aware as they were. Bless them. I would text them.
She bucked on the floor.
“Nick Land is an Agent of the Demiurge” she croaked. I helped her up back onto the bed and she pulled the sheet around her making no sound everywhere. You aren’t my life you, with dark circles under your eyes. Riven and pretty you make the hours last bless your heart. You want to destroy me but baby there’s nothing left to destroy. I’ve always been fucked from +1 second. But who was Nick Land? Motherfucker. We aren’t owned by these motherfuckers. Her fingers tapped a careful cadence on the cotton sheet.
I spoke to her. She was on the internet and we shared smoking miles away tumbling backwards and forwards via messages. She was a trailer bitch for sure and we hated each other from the start. She was great with games that distracted, made no point at all and she was later never early.
“What made you think you mean’t anything at all? You will stand before Jesus before long and have to redeem yourself”. She showed me her tight asshole and I ate that Motherfucker.
It was a Neoreaction. Later on I stood outside her house and watched her move backwards and forwards behind the curtains as I stood and smoked a spliff. Someone elses choice for sure baby. They were just themes of course all these illicit fucks. I felt sorry for her husband. Even sorrier that he decided that he wanted to sort it out with me. He brought a few mates with him. I wanted to hurt and bleed for a few minutes and pay my penance and I did. My nose popped. My eyes hurt. Somebody kicked me in the ear and I was rolling.
But she was riding me and I had her by the throat and every few minutes or so she would get off and walk over to her phone. Check it. Chop a line of coke. Snort it off the screen. Walk back get back on. I tried to fit all my fingers in her mouth and she helped force them further in and the spit came out and fell on me went in my mouth the cocaine sour spit.
I grabbed him by the collar as he leaned over. He had thin office wanker muscles and an office wanker face with office wanker friends and office wanker Adidas. I bit his cheek as hard as I could and threw him against a car. The alarm went off. I took my hatchet out of my jacket and chopped him in the knee then swung around and stuck it in an oncoming fist. The violence was unconditional. The ultimate display of irony. Poison of the Demiurge, his own magic used against him. Me using Goddesses as pawns in the great fight and they have little idea. Their minds cannot fathom abstraction. Cannot understand the greatest of philosophies are the absurd.
There are 14 unread messages from her. 14 listless pleas for THAT sex. Nick Land was the number 1 and 4. Patriotic and trustworthy. A blatant load of metaphysical bullshit. ‘Methodical’ that scared the shit out of me. In the future I see them and their crooked cross revolving. Tarot Kabbalah fusion I see him. Crowned and with a cloak of scarlet, crowned in gold holding a great sword. Lord of the World. And so it comes to pass.