C’mon man! Where’s your will to be weird?

-Jim Morrison.

It isn’t important to come out on top, what matters is to be the one who comes out alive.
-Bertold Brecht. ,p> Pathos is the sense of distance.
-Saint-Exupery.

What other dungeon is so dark as ones own heart!
What jailer so inexorable as one’s self!
-Nathaniel Hawthorne

If it keeps on raining the levees going to break.
-Memphis Minnie.

And I just wanna say that I miss you and I’ve been pitiful since you’ve been gone.
-Powderfinger.

Slept all day and am going to be up all fucking night.

I got told tonite that I am not learning anything new about myself, so join me if you will [not that I really fucking care] on a daytrip into god knows what. There will be cake and a quiz.

Well, no cake cause my life is a diet and no quiz cause as we all know there are no wrong questions and so on and so forth…. The nerve in the lower right side of my jaw is twitching again.

There is a part of me [8 years old, fat, friendless] that is wailing tonight “I wanna go HOME”.
Pointless really as I don’t have a home to go to and if I did I would have a whole other mess of issues to deal with. Although it warms my fucked up heart that Diamond Lilli invited me to go back and live with her and the Pornstar. They both write and tell me that they miss me and I am touched.

The grace of this homeless state, it can veer from liberation to desperation so fucking fast.

I’ll tell you what’s just side splitting hysterical to me at the moment. My voice gets better as the rest of me falls apart. Thanks a fuckin million!

And now for something random…. I think that reason that people get away with so much is because no one wants the call them on it, cant be assed steeling themselves for the confrontation.

Tonite I would give anything to be on my bike flying around Sydney in the warm air. Slayer blaring in my headphones, Salt on my skin, arms waiting to love me, honest sweat and money in my pocket.

I hate all of this waiting; this filling of time like a jail and playing live is the parole. I hate not working I always have and I am coming to terms with the fact that I am useless at structuring my own time. I veer towards depression too easily.

I know that if I left that no one would chase me and or miss me so I stay and eat shit off fine china with a gilded spoon.

When you’re up, your up….

I have hardly been able to sustain a relationship my whole life and yet here I am 6 years deep with not one person but three and I really don’t know what the hell am doing. I wish that I had of constructed a bigger life away from it, but it is all that I wanted and I couldn’t see anything else.

Fool? I guess if the shoe fits? Tap-dance.

I don’t know what else I would do and that can be most confronting. I like to think on a good day that I may have something else in me but I doubt it. I don’t even know what to look for. A book? I’d dig that. One down unpublished still.

I still like it here, this corner that I inhabit. Its just there there is a lack.

And the lack is me.

I was safer when I didn’t try to trust. Ross thinks that I lump all of my abandonment issues onto him. How would he feel if I held it over him? I doubt that he would care.

Knowing him he wouldn’t even notice.

I don’t think that anyone would. I can’t win with him so I guess that the next challenge is to stop trying.

Stop trying and just work.

I vacillate so wildly knowing that it’s no good but still longing for friendship within my own ranks.

It is the pathetic kicked dog in me that I hate the most. I have been trying to run it over with the internal truck of bone deep knowing and logic for years.

It deserves to die; you really have no idea how much.

I am damned if I do and dammed if I don’t.

This is why love is no good for me.

If I was home?….

I would be longing to be in the back of a van again. I always think that I am going to get it right “Next time”.
That when I am deep in the heart of one [The Mc Job, being home] that I will be preparing for the other [On the road, playing] but I’m not and I never do .I just future pace and stress out.

And yet to get my end result I know that I must be here guns blazing and go as hard as I can.

I ask myself all the time what could be so difficult about such a thing? That I am doing what it am that I said that I would do and that millions would kill to be in my place.

I return to the age-old adage of “Wherever you go, there you are”

King Cockhead of Asshole Mountain at your service.

To not be ruled by a dream, by ambition. It’s killing me faster than it’s saving me. How nice it would be to be ignorant, to just plod through life not chasing the storms, the highs that haunt me. To be happy with my lot in life whatever it might be.

I wrote to Miss Terror that I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grow up that I wonder what job I am going to do. She fired back quick smart “Um Honey? You are doing it right now”

“Ah! So I am,” I think.

What is a simple life and where can I sign up?

Storm chaser. I like that.

I harken back to the people that I admire. The ones that explode in my past like fluorescent glitter bombs.

A long time ago I lived a solitary summer with a goddess in Los Angles.
Motivated beautiful talented in all number of areas. A total package and knock out. In short everything that I would have wanted to be. She looked like she owned it and got it at the best price in town.

Away from admiring eyes it was a whole other story.

She was a total addict, self-mutilator and hater. The coke, the cutting, the abuse but she was always the coolest.

Which then got me to wondering if there are any happy driven people at all or is it more about what you show instead of what you know.

[“Don’t hate the player baby” he grinned at me “Hate the game”]

Rank rank rank………..

I think that I woke up because I couldn’t stop dreaming of the dance scene in Napoleon Dynamite over and over. No one, no matter how lazy and evil needs that much Jamioquoi in his or her lives.
It’s about 7 now and the boys are jamming.

I don’t think that they want me around so I am going to stay in my room.

Ash and his woman were walking back to her place right now when Ash pointed out where we were living

“Oh No!” she gasped, [no doubt with a charming accent] “That is the ghost building full of asbestos! That’s why no one lives there”

Asbestos.
Fucking magic.
All I could think of was Blackie throwing an absolute fit. He will never hug me again if he finds out about this. Ross tells me that we are now all dying and I mutter, “I wish to fuck that I would hurry up if that is the case.”

Mikey just stuck his head round my door to tell me that I am welcome to come in at anytime. Bless.

I also dreamt that I pushed Fat Sally over in a port-a-loo, which had me smiling.

Tried to get in touch with Toddski but no joy. I can’t believe that 2 of my only friends are so far away from me in time and distance. I haven’t seen Toddski since 01′ and my beloved Gooch out in the desert since 96′.

I am having a definite problem with time at the moment as I think that I should be no further along than say late 98′.The boys just rolled into “Diatribe” again and I really cant be bothered to get out of bed.

Moo.

Four people and 2 sets of keys is also a definite pain in the ass. Ross wont buy anymore phone credit and Ash wont buy a phone. Stayed up all last night reading one of Rosscoes Bernard Cornwall epics. I’ll be wearing a fucking cloak and playing dungeons and dragons next.

Now they are playing “DNA”
I remember sitting out the front of The Ranch waiting for Ross to come pick me up and writing it there, on the footpath, really hot.
That’s when Ash was at GMD and I would go over there, eat sushi and try and record something worthwhile. We did do a version of it that didn’t make Detesimony but when he was playing me this track a few months ago the words came back and we rocked it out.

The words are pretty relevant. Guess now more so than ever.

I flipped out rather vehemently year ago when my family [I cant even think of them like that] were spinning around me trying to know me. I am useless when cornered, I come out swinging. An emotional haymaker who gives little thought to personal injury. What a dickhead.

Saint Tina tells me that maybe they didn’t want anything. She went and met up with my real mother, which is fine by me. You can’t care about something if it doesn’t really matter to you. Or should I say exists.

I guess, just as coming from a big family can define you, so can being given away.
I try to look at my motives from a distance whenever possible, to not get emotionally involved with myself.

Believe me there is no blame and I don’t revolve around it but it was up in my face so I had to deal with it.

There has been a real ebb and flow on it. Rarely but on occasion, it can make me miserable but that seems to happen when I am tearing myself apart but mostly it makes me feel good. An involantery orphan?

I can dig that. It appeals to my inner pirate, the internal lost boy.

I like that I have no history to live up to .No genetic s glaring out of the faces of others to define and anchor me. As far as I am concerned I am still adrift in the world and anything I do is mine. It can only lead me back to myself because I am all that I have got.

Is that the reason that I didn’t want to meet them? Sure, One of them. It’s creepy though because now they all know who I am what I look like and I don’t know them. My father [????] wrote me to tell me that one of his sons saw me at the last BDO but didn’t come and talk to me. Which I gave thanks for. I am sure that he is a nice kid and all but can you put yourself in my shoes?

There I am doing my job and someone, a total stranger comes up to you and claims kinship?

“Hi Michele, great show!”
“Hey man, thanks I’m glad you liked it!
“Yeah! I am your Cousin-half brother-aunt….ect”

I mean, talk about an uncomfortable situation.

I cracked it in the end and told Saint Tina to tell them all to keep the hell away from me. And she was wrong, everybody wants something. And I don’t nave anything to give that I haven’t already. I have structured my life very carefully around that. Sue me.

I am never going to put myself in the position to get left again. And I have known that for fuckin ever.

The lads are now beating “Relationshit” to a pulp. It’s raining and getting colder by the day and I still don’t have a winter jacket. What I do have is a very fucked up right foot that I split open at the last show. I am going to make a tea, back in a sec…

Ahhh….

I am finding very difficult not to think about going home. I never really give a shit but I have something to go back to this time and I keep tripping over the fact.

And even if I do its not going to be the bliss that I am dreaming of now, 3 months by the water and no phone line, no, it will be straight back into the hustle, out of the gate running to get the money to get back here in the shortest time possible. I think that I was born exhausted.

Fucking European time restrictions, sent to try me. I don’t have the funds to run to the states for three months and even if I did?

Oh Man.

I am having one of those “Everything is driving me metal ” jags and it was all feeling a little to close to Canada when I woke up this evening. We tend to rotate with in 3 so that means that someone is always on the out and today it is my turn.

The boys have just taken a break and are practicing German on each other.

By fuck I hate September. Misery cental.

“MICHELE!!!!!”
“What?”
“Come and sing!”
“Why?”
“Cause we want to sing these songs in the Netherlands”

I will always think that they sound better without me. I need some more tattoos. Free ones if possible. Or a new knife. I saw a Bowie on the Reeperbahn with a hot chick on the handle for 5 euros but travelling with such toys is a major pain in the butt these days

[“Ha! Back in my day you could walk on board with a M-16 lashed across your shoulders and the stewdesses would smile and swoon!”]

I guess that I should go and sing. That’s what I am here for right?

Later:
We just went and got a feed, which was nice, and we were talking about living arrangements and what not. We are all pretty skint and out on a limb here besides Ross who has an English passport and therefore a net. Whenever something is not to his liking he threatens immediate bailage, which instantly makes me wonder why I bother to invest at all.

“Well” he sniffed in the dodgy lift on the way up “This is the last night that I will be spending here!” [I swear that he is going to start talking in 3rd person any day now and I will be compelled, nay, forced to kill him]

“I thought that we would all stick together, ” says I knowing that I am about to be shot down by One Sir Sniffy Mc Born correct. “Not” he says cutting his eyes back at me “If I can help it”
I feel so close to him until he says something like that and then I question everything and
[“You’re obviously not learning anything about yourself”]

God he can be a prick.

The ones you love are the ones that will destroy you in the end. They have all the right weapons and you gave them to them.
Sucker.

SF4L
Michele.