Exile.

Hobbled by what seems to be chronic inertia and a staggering lack of ambition I desire nothing more than deep dreamless sleep and soda water.I traversed and conquered the day and made it back to my black curtained girl-cave with groceries and yet another a new handbag,sweating like a pedophile on a jumping castle.I then proceeded to work out hard,lamented my bulk,bathed and am now nude, smelling delightfully of pink grapefruit (I cannot be trusted in drugstores) and happily ensconced in my cloud.aka:bed.

The last entry was meant to inform in the 1st line that I live nocturnally.Insomnia leads to mistakes.My bad.

I will be good and goddamned if I will venture out again.Why bother? The bummer about being home at night is dealing with roommates.Sigh.I still adore Miss Lilli but it gets mucho  hard to keep my temper when her moron brother smirks at me as he overturns all the rules that she set in place one by one all those months ago.If he is not careful he will wake up to find me at the foot of his bed with my katana drawn and thirsty for his peanut head.

Why does Elvis keep putting morons in my way? Why must I traverse the mongoloid minefield? What is it that I am meant to be learning here ,do tell ? Or is he setting me up with an idiot game reserve that I can hunt on at will? Yeah! A safari seeking the wild stupid? Sign me up sahib! I smirk ,imagining the heads adorning the wall of my study,all decked out in mahogany and deep velvet.Crystal decanters and fourteen foot ceilings and the like.Nice.Very nice….

Bliss.And rest assured that I would gut,dress and mount every kill with an intensity that would have Ed Gein wanting to fill my dance card.

I am knackered.I go so hard for so long that when I pause it all falls down .My corpse is all “I Gotcha!” and it does.I had this coming,I have been beating it like a red headed step child in the gym.Today I will bow to its desire for sleep and whatnot. I don’t want to leave the house and there in lies the problem.I do nothing but leave the house.Why is that you ask?

The stain that is my neighbour.Put yourself in my shoes.The cunts that make my fists itch every weekend when I am in the door? You got it.I live a wall away from one. Sigh.

Aussie flag as a curtain? Check. Addiction to heavy deodorant that lingers in the hall like the word of a liar for hours after his departure? Check.Listens to chart bothering music that I didn’t think straight people even knew existed and loudly,L.E.D lights in car,southern cross seat covers,meat eating,full cream milk guzzling, drinking,smoking,hair straightener owning….Look,I may as well go and spray paint a big red tick on his door.I know that he hates me and complains to his sister about me but being a coward runs deep.Yep.More passive aggression.

On his behalf not mine.I rag him for calling his mother and complaining about the big bad city.I don’t give a fuck.

This leads me to never being at home .I know if I lose it,I mean really go off, it will all be lost.I asked Lili yet again if she wanted me to go.She lost her temper but she folds to the shallow shape of his mediocrity and it pains me.I will lose.It’s the family thing.Never mind that they all left her for dead all those years ago……

What I have to do is what I have always done.Invest in no one and when disappointed cauterize the wound and move on.

I was at least hoping that all and sundry would be leaving at Xmas,you know,being all “Family” inclined and what not.No such luck.I will be M.I.A for the season.Saint Tina and I are going to bail for the shack when all the drones have to head back to work.It is the least I can do for her being that  refuse to celebrate the lie.I will cook and keep the woman in red wine and menthol cigarettes while I flail over sand dunes with a weighted pack on my back attempting to get to a mean 65 kilos.Fun in the sun.

But Christmas,Passover,Easter….?

They can all go and get royally fucked.

The human animal is not only deeply flawed but also full of shit.I hate people and they hate me. Duh. It’s a no brainer.But don’t go wrapping it in festive paper or stick it in a shredded tissue paper basket full of eggs once a year and smile and expect me to act like the other eleven months are all good in the ‘hood you corporate cocksucking cumbuckets.Don’t piss on my neck and then tell me that its raining.

Fuck you. No really,fuck off and die.Don’t get me wrong,I have my fun. I am sugary sweet to the clock punching ding-dongs that I have to deal with.My manners and language flawless.I do this because I know that it confuses them and that in turn makes them angry.It was even more of a treat only a scant  few years ago when heavy tattoos were still the flesh bound calling card of the outlaw and the underground…oh well….

They only perk up and behave nicely when the calender tells them to do so.When a bunny craps a chocolate egg or a fat child molester in a red suit does a break and enter leaving behind gifts for thankless brats and semen stains on the sofa .Wrap these contrary cunts in tinsel and they act charming for a few weeks.It makes me fucking sick but what could I be lead to expect from people who’s IQ doesn’t even exceed the speed limit in a school zone?

Exactly.

Now you tell me to have a nice day? Now you smile??? Fuck you and you and you and you to infinity and back again.I want to topple your trees and roast your reindeer.And its not just me they pretend to like, its their own families.

Hypocrisy.Makes me want to call an air strike on a church.Fat fake fucks.

So yeah.I will be sitting in my secret coffee shops and tolerant bars drinking water and filling my note books thank you very bloody much.Monopolizing the gym.

Funny thing is ,as a kid I flat out loved it.No shit,Christmas,all the crap that goes with it. Till I started seeing what it really was. Till my chainsmoking grandmother started with her sly asides, (” You don’t resemble anyone do you dear?.) ,till my cunt cousins from the inbred badlands stated tearing me apart.Nothing but babies out of wedlock,fat asses and failed marriages for that tribe now.Good. I couldn’t stay true to the illusion.I went home once in the 90’s with flame red hair and amazing high heels for the charade,almost put a cousin through the drywall and never returned again.

Its a whole different ball game now,well,so they tell me,trying to entice me back,more gentle and so on but I will not buy in. A turd is still a turd no matter how much you polish it. Age does not mellow me,it bring a new sharpness and a crueler perception and I welcome it. I bake it a cake and don’t mind when it uses all the hot water .

Being that I thought that I would be married to the love of my life right now I had hoped that it would change as I wanted to give him everything that he had been denied as a child.Cooped up in a shithole motel somewhere on the road ,we lay wrapped in each others limbs out from the cold and under polyester sheets.I lightly scratched his back and cooed “I will get you a tree…” and went on to describe how we belonged to us now and  we would make it all better.

What a fucking schmuck I was.Christ! I hated the festive season before now how do you think I feel? See where love can lead you? I am still picking the egg off my face and hating myself over the whole debacle.

I hope that this time of year finds him on the road and not knotted up with some junk wasted fuck-hole in the bowels of West Hollywood.It will find me alone,avoiding everyone,up all night,guitar sometimes ,pen more often than not.It will find me honing my eating disorders and polishing my dysmorphia with a rag lovingly dipped in my ever bubbling and endless spring of self loathing.Control and not The Joy division variety.

I love me a routine.Doing the same thing over and over.Getting harder ,getting colder. And why not I ask you? It works for me.I will never have a child.I agonize over owning a pet or even a car.I drift on my own tide and if you are for or against me I no longer care.One. That is all it comes down to.I am a dog and pony show.I dazzle you and leave you wanting .Why trot out one’s fable searching for approval or a warm corpse to plunder? Its all a lie.

I chew on my fingertips and run scales on my guitar in the dark.Everyone and everything pisses me off,grates on my finer sensibilities.Hunter had Colorado.I need to amass cash and flee to a compound far from where I find myself now.Deluxe is in Germany but I have nothing there to return to.Sydney is a fake titted hooker with running make up.She is my mom for now but its not here that I need to be.I thought it was my beloved California but it was always his,never really mine.

So for now I run on the spot.

I annoy and hate myself most of all.Cramped with it.Wish that I was as dumb as them some days.I almost envy their stupid lives.Drunk=Band aid.Cigarette=Band aid and so on and so forth….Lili is reminding me of Al Pacino in the Godfather.She escaped and did good but now she is returning to type.It devastates me.All this crap of blood being thicker than water.It sucks her back in again.

I devastate  myself.Let that be duly noted.I don’t want any kind of family.My bio-tribe out of the woodwork.What do they fucking want? I have nothing.Took me years to get out from under the ones that I ended up with bar Saint Tina and The Leefish and needless to say my brothers,one of whom I never even talk to.Family is a crock of festering shit.It keeps you down and guilt ridden.It cripples and kills.

I was born to be an orphan.It is ingrained in me.I can’t even hold onto my friends.My intensity drives all from me sooner or later so why try? It takes far to long to recover.And that in my thin book,is not worth it.

I just  heard the door slam.I don’t want to be at home but I am too tired to leave.To broke to live alone.I miss my garage so much it pains me on a physical level.I wonder why I hate what is regarded as normal so much? It looks like nothing more than surrender to me. I see it woo people that I once looked up to and it makes me sad.Its just giving up with a no interest payment plan.

Since I was a kid I have been looking behind the door and under the bed.To be afraid,to be challenged.To conquer.I have always wanted more of what ever was in the wrong direction which is why I don’t drink or get high.I would have gone the way of too many that I have known long before now.I got sad realizing that its been a lifetime since I planted one of my only childhood friends.He was the first to sign out by his own hand.I was so fecklessly drunk at his funeral at the royal age of 14 that I almost came off the back of his uncles bike because I refused to let go of my bottle of bourbon.Ah Eamon,you were the first person to see anything worth seeing in me.

My ankle length black skirt flaring in our wake like the angel of death’s wings.We were going to live forever.I puked on the marble steps of the cathedral.

I miss you.

Miss Emma called me before.We lament over stupid love and understand the pain of each others travails implicitly.We wonder aloud what is worth what.The divine Miss E is a live-wire.Stunningly,heart stoppingly beautiful ,kind and talented.A well rounded triple threat.A reward to those who are lucky enough to know her.We lament over our chosen who dip their wicks into the foul,ugly and fat.These men that we hold sacred in our true and battered hearts who for some reason sabotage anything of lasting value in their loud lives.But yet we persist and wonder why.

And the whores that they give themselves to! Good lord! Pass me my bucket if you will….this is why beautiful women have such a hard time keeping their self respect in tact.Men pursue beauty and when they get it they don’t know what to do with it.Pathetic.And you wonder why I refuse to date or sport fuck? Give me a fucking break? Its a fleeting thing that can only do you harm.I have seen them become numb and jaded,saturated by porn and drugs.All the natural receptors blown out.

I have no interest thank you, now move along.

I had a small bracket when I did believe in love.Not now.I am too tired to hard sell and peddle my fable to anyone for affection.I just don’t care.I don’t want any new friends nor a partner.Everything dies.It leaves.My books,my guitar,my gym.They don’t leave, no sir.They are always there.7 miles run was 7 miles run yesterday and so it will be tomorrow.

“Highway to Hell” will continue to be ageless and scream from my headphones when I push play.The Rolling Stones,Roky Erickson,The Motown back catalog.Slayer. This shit is real and it is what matters to me.My Tattoos,the art that cannot be stolen.The hours that the world is mine alone.Silent communications with dead planets by the pool on my aqua blue sun lounge.

This is mine.

I dig the sure things.Sue me.

I give myself away on stage.That is as close as you will get.You can take it or leave it.I don’t really care to be honest,all I want is to better my last effort,I am still going to do what I do whether anyone shows up or not. Hide in plain sight.A friend in LA used to answer a lot of queries with the rejoinder “Whatever’s clever”. Words that I find myself living by as I battle to keep the mediocrity from creeping like smoke beneath my door.I don’t know what I am fighting for but I refuse to let up.People let it creep over them,they allow the slot rot .They welcome the infection, they offer no resistance but it gives them something to complain about.

I can’t get a straight answer and the numbers are stacked against me so I stay alone and in my own head.

Saw the wanker that used to play guitar in my old band the other day.Tool.I chuckle when I think about him and his German Yoko.He kept fucking her,he informed us,so he didn’t have to live with the rest of us,the band.We turned from him in disgust,not for the first or last time. Ah! Once a whore always a whore.She followed him home to Australia and he married her.All the shit that he used to give any of us for being in relationships.Revenge is sweet I have to tell you.He writes add jingles and trades on past glory.

John Lydon once said that anger is an energy.True that ,but only in short bursts I find.I prefer hate.Hate is peat and coal.Blistering fossil fuel.Mercury and cyanide .At least it is real.It does not lie to me or try and break me.It is cool and concise and at certain time of the season,gardenia scented. If I harnessed anger I would be consumed by the thought of those who have wronged me.Hate is far more economical.Could have been designed by the Swedes it is so thoughtfully put together.Hate is available on demand and very specific.Just my kind of emotion.On tap and on fire thank you.I can take it out and use it when I need it where as anger tends to rally like a meth fueled toddler.Exhausting,confusing,draining and destructive.

Thank you but I will pass.

I will be up all night to flip my tattered body-clock once again to my preferred waking hours of darkness.I have more respect for the so called scum than I will ever have for the suits.This time of year really does twist my Mellon so the unwashed masses should be grateful that I have re-upped my gym membership to temper my temper and stay the fuck out of my way.

My corpse amazes me with its muscle memory.Already hardening up beneath the excess and I chose to think thankfully and gratefully that I am back on track at long last.I have no choice.If I stay fat I am all the people that I despise and that is not acceptable.It is a thought that drives me to heavier weights and more miles by the day.Trust me.

Listen,bottom line?

Everybody wants something.

They won’t get it from me.