Crazy,well thats how its goes.

-Ozzy Osbourne.

I’ve come full circle.
-Tool.

The 1st kiss I can ever remember wanting to die for I got on April 9th 1991.I was wearing a black dress and he was wearing a green velvet smoking jacket.

I dont think that he really liked me but he knew that I liked him and thought that he would bestow some of his skate assed hotness on the ugly chick with braces.I was drunk off my ass and glowing with misaligned teen aged longing.

Well,He inspired me to learn to play the guitar so I guess thats somthing.
Years later he fucked my best friend,an anorexic nut job canadian girl who was more trouble than the middle east and I stood under their window in the rain the night he left with my guitar and sang.

Windows opened as I gave it what for with The Boys next door and some other shit that I am too mortified to document, but not theirs.People listened as my heart tore in two.What a headcase eh? A useless romantic

I saw his shadow against the blinds and he turned out the light.I cried all the way home.

Wah,wah,wah…..

To this day ,in my quieter moments I hope that he has a terrible cock maiming moment.Preferably in public.

April 9 is Jenna Jameson’s birthday.Hmmmmm.
-The end-

See!
SEE!!!!!!!
This is the crap that is clogging up my fucking head! WHYYYYYYY!!!!!
I cant write ,I just knock around in my memory, eat cheese and beat off.That is not a real strong master plan.

Now the kiss that I die for every fucking day lives 3 hours away and makes me purr like a fucking V8.

Cruel….MAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Its all gonna change.I need to make the next grade.Pain brings visions.i need to get it where I can as building a Souix indian smoke house in a Newtown back yard is not an option.

Cant sleep cant sleep.
Cant afford my life.
The fucking cat is attacking me as I write this and I am in despair.I dont know why.I know all the things that I could do to combat it but I feel like I have an engine block of grief lodged on my sternum.

It rained tonite and all my lanky joints decided to throw a pain party.Saint Tina informs me that Jr is home safe from Vegas and that he had a ball.I am roadtripping down to see her this week as I have to start packing shit up once again.I also need to get into all my archives to see what drops of poison are waiting to be distilled.Knowing that their time would be up real soon.

[Picture me blowing dust of ancient tomes held up to pursed reverent lips in a shard of dim light or kicking the shit out of a grey filing cabinet covered in stickers and loaded with moldy hello kitty note books…up to you….]

So I am gonna leave a few winter things out to tide me over and starve myself into the Budweiser bikini that ross will always look so much fitter in than I.

I keep having to throw the cat on the floor.I went to take a leak today and the little fuck sat on the keyboard and wiped out a whole email.I told Diamond Lil that I was gonna skin her and use her pelt to trim a sweater.Grrrrrr.

Its a test.
Its ment to get as horrible as possible and I am ment to keep some kind of steely reserve thing going.I just read the new “Uprooted” which is as always brilliant and I too want to stab.I want to stab the whole fucking world.
Ross is a fucking god.

Did some cool radio shit over the last week.Always fun when the questions are good.The chick thing comes up every time.Ho hum.

I thought that this was gonna be good but as I am now having a brain fart and know that it sux I am outta here.

My band mail account is possessed so its not that I dont care Its that I aint receiving.
Gonna get it sorted.

SF4L
Michele

Sydney.So hard to be a fighter when your hands are always tied.

-C.O.C

Turn out the lights, tell me a story. -The Music.

[…….leefish is alive and I miss him.Jr is running around nude on top of ruins in Peru,Blackie is touring his ass off, Miss lili white tiger got the job, we leave in 9 weeks, we are showcasing at the troubadour,this diet sucks, love hangin with y’all in the carpark at the all ages, Calgary again eh?,Roadtrip to saint Tina’s, one more clip before we go, nothings ever good enough,5 months apart and I am sleepless, your needle in my skin and I am yours, Family that I don’t know showing up when I play why?, Monkey never calls less she needs magic and it don’t hurt no more, Album cover looks great, miss M fits under my arm, want to peel myself, Know what y’all say and you cant meet my eyes……]

-Real late on the back of a flyer late night.

Miss Annie tells me that “White trash has just been sitting there so I don’t know what you are up to….”

Well, that makes two of us.

I have been writing ’em but my computer is a bit weird [We belong together] so I have not been able to send them to Delux.As soon as I work it out I will flood it all over again.

Cold as a hookers snatch today and I hate it. In the spirit of all that is Chuck Norris I spent 20 buck on his Total trainer at the yard sale that the 2 Mexican guys across the road were having. It all looks rather dangerous and my intentions are pure so that will keep me out of trouble.Heh.

Went postering last nite with Miss terror. Got home a 2 in the morn and proceeded to re read Jenna Jameson’s book till 7 and was overcome by a nihilistic black cloud that had me having weird dreams bout singing in a church and yelling at Jessica Simpson. The mind boggles. My mind is overloaded.

I love Jenna so this is great….read on…..

We have the design for the new tee shirt and it is gold. One of my spies [“Fly! Fly my children of the night!”] sent me a thing that some net monkey had written, brace yourself.

“Tourettes suck more cock than Jenna Jamerson”

Now if that was not made to be printed in 4 inch letters on a black tee shirt I dunno what was.

Thanks to the shit for brains that coined it. In Honor of you and all your coward like brethren I am not only playing Waken but the Monsters Of Rock in Bulgaria.

bye bye suckers….
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

So, What has been happening. I will try and remember…….

Tour…..

In a scant 9 weeks we will be on the bird once again to search and destroy all the way around the globe. Anyone who wants to give us money is welcome. First stop makes it all pretty sexy. Out to LA for a month solid to record the next album. It will be summer there so in between surfing, yoga with Ross and singing I don’t think that life is to stinky at this juncture.

Recording…..

As we speak really. I have been over at Manning’s place 2 days a week scaring the crap out of the neighbors.Ross gets me at 12 and picks me up at 6.Been at it bout 3 weeks and I think that we have 9 completed but I wouldn’t know as he spent all his money on tattoos and didn’t burn me a disc.Dick.

Shows…….

2 left before we leave the country. The Come together fest at Luna Park and then the farewell show at Club77 on June 17th.Tom and cris have booked Luke My fave DJ so I can rock out to Slayer all nite. cool.

Europe…..

Holy shit.Heading into the wild blue yonder with one of the worlds most respected record labels behind us.Stoked.Summer….and porn. I know what I will be spending my per Diem on!

Australia…..

Seems the be the abusive boyfriend to our lovestruck whitetrash driven existence. Its one black eye to many at this point so its time to go. I know who has our back here and as a tribe they are formidable. We will come back to you. We will make you proud.
Its shitful cause the whole last time I was away I did nothing but big ups all my beloved Aussie bands. They have done the same in return for us. It’s all good. Its the bottom feeders with marginal talent and whopping great drug habits mixed with delusions of grandeur that creates the shit.
Mediocre talent and peanut brains.
You gotta forgive them. Can you imagine how sad their lives are?
That don’t mean that I forget though….. they keep me striving. So boo ya sucks to the haters. I wont give up EVER because you want me to. Hows your waken preparation goin’ anyway? Oh that’s right! YOUR NOT GOING.
I gotta stop here cause I am laughing to hard and its slowing down my typing……

Ok,sorry.Composed now.

Stress……

By the bucket load. Rob writes me from LA. “This is our “Vulgar Display” he tells me. I butt heads with Ash and pray that I can get higher to drop lower. The new shit is massive though. Gone back to tearing myself apart. The next round is not gonna be so free and easy live. Not so many bits. It’s just me hitting the stage with this fucking machine and I think that’s somewhere that I really do need to be. Scary shit cause the last year has been fun up there but I can hear the bad shit in me stirring and I gotta go with it or I am lying to myself.

The greatest fear for me anyway is not knowing what is gonna happen up there and wondering if I am gonna come back from it.

Will it serve me ,take me forward or kill me?. This is the shit that I wind myself up on so hard that I sweat I cant articulate. My journal just sits there and I burn. I don’t even know where to start.

At the beginning.

I don’t like who I have been and how I let my life get on top of me for the last year. I should have my life up on statutory rape. It’s all flown by and all I do is think that I am always gonna fuck it up. I do I guess. Now I just wanna get paid for it.

I leave myself behind because I spend so much time inside my head. I come back at the world that I hate is baying for my blood once again.

Don’t engage with the small shit.

That’s about it I guess.

Gonna go and start packing shit up. Buy some food.Write.You know the deal.

Fuck you if you fuck with me. I am eternal.

SF4L
Michele

Nothing I do is good enough for you.

-Tori Amos.

The beginning doesn’t matter, as long as there’s a good end.
-Tamara de Lempicka.

It takes a kind of shabby arrogance to survive in our time, and a fairly romantic nature to want to.
-Edgar z Friedburg.1959.

Self-trust is the essence of heroism.
-Emerson 1841.

Self trust eh?
That’s a big ask. Trust at all.
Raise your hand if you have never been betrayed and bask under the golden green light of my radiating envy for all time for you are truly lucky.
The guy across the road is walking his cat again. I live in a crazy neighbourhood. Little New York. Big 3 level terrace houses. Why have a TV when you got a view like this? The best show to tune in for is when the nymphomaniac junkie next door is in the throws of breaking up with her lover du jour. This happens at least once a week. Yells her ass off, throws shit out the window, begs him to stay and then? Then she blasts schmaltzy love songs from the mid 90’s late into the night.

We are all looking for something I guess. The cat man, the junkies, the lovers…. I am sounding like a crack addled version of “The rainbow connection” I have often considered looking at life like a treasure hunt with out the pirate ship and sea sickness. I am such a horder. I think that most socially crippled writers are. Just suck it all up, fine tune it and the move into the palace that your memories have built, pay no rent and reel back for all time.

What can I tell y’all?
For all the things that happen and change nothing really does. Get low and wonder if you can really fool yourself into anything that even resembles peace and or safety. Can’t move my head to fast ‘cause it starts spinning.” Get gone!” croons the main voice in my head tonite sounding a lot like Ronnie Van Zant.All I need if that whistle to make it complete.

Want to be told something. Not sure what or if it even matters. Anything to drag me away from my own boring internal circles. Watching people getting dropped home in taxis, me making up whole nights for them as they stumble out drunk. My tendons feel like they are coated in sand.

First day out of bed in a week after being laid low with an utterly filthy flu that kicked the shit out of me 5 ways to Sunday. Whenever I get that sick it’s usually round the time that I have decided for one reason or another to pull my finger out of my ass. Then I end up going through the whole “God hates me, wah wah wah….”Thing that seems to come skipping along hand in hand with snot and self-pity.

All in all it’s not so shabby. Got some good shows coming up and we are playing an in store at Utopia. All the things that you once daydreamed about…. The 1st in store I went to was for The Hanging Tree [Flynn from Cogs old band] at the old Utopia across the road. Francis and me blew a heap of money and rocked out. I loved it how all the old school metal heads that worked there would look down their noses at you if you had any questions. And now I get to rock out. What a buzz. That’s the kind of shit that keeps my depressed ass rolling.

Knowing that we are going back out on the road? Hmmmmm…. I am trying to dissect that in my phlegm choked head. Knew that I shoulda made a tea before I sat down to do this. Fleas everywhere. Gah!

Watching the planes on the flight path. Hawaiian Ginger drifting round my room like an under aged drunk at a house party and these are the dark hours that get me into so much trouble and I think that I would like an adventure for Hanukah Daddy.

I am pretty highly strung at the bet of times so it doesn’t take much to get me thinking along the lines of self preservation some. I just hope that we can all be polite enough to each other to keep the wheels spinning for as long as they need to be. I have to get gone when the drinking starts cause I seem to be the perfect target for abuse. Ho fucking hum. Looking forward to seeing what they make of us in Europe. How can they not fall in love with Ross? Hmmmm?

Sitting on a chair covered in a KISS tee shirt, at my desk, looking out my big window. Anything on the side of the road is fair game right? Volia! One desk for moi. So it’s not all that bad tonite. It’s just not what I want it to be either and there lies the pain in my ass so to speak. Being sick all week knocked me out of jamming with the boys. The last time I showed up late to Troyhorse there was a mess of people standing round the door listening to them wail, nodding heads and what not. I joined the Frey. I tend to believe that they sound better without me.

Ash is writing all the time and I guess in my own convoluted way I am as well. He tells me that he wants something “New” out of me and my blood runs cold cause I really don’t know what is left inside me.

I don’t know if I am ever going to get past the fact that as a musician I fell like I don’t “Do” anything. Look at me now. What do I do? Fuck all. This is a fact that got pile driven into my dying heart by our guitar god when we were recording Sicksence in Canada. I got no education and no social skills. Perfect huh?

I am just rambling, looking for answers when I know that there are none and not what I would really want to hear if there were.

Deluxe is calm for a change. His beloved Max is home for a stint of domestic bliss. Great to see him again after so long. I approach Max with awe, as he is the only thing as far as I can assiataine on gods green earth that makes Ross happy and that is no small feat.

Significant other is on an absinthe binge this evening, in the bath no less. Monkey and Blackie are at the Dale.Leeroy fish has no phone lines left to him and that’s pretty much how it’s all rolling. I am just glad that I have my voice back for the weekend. I thought that I was a goner there. Was talking to Saint Tina tonite thanking her for the Hello Kitty love pack that she had sent me from Hawaii [Hello Kitty on a surfboard? I rest my fucking case.] Telling her about headlining the Galic club this weekend.” Well! That will be cool,” She said. “You will make some money on that…” Laugh? You betcha! Till I fucking cried. I have made 20 dollars in 5 years and that was cause I cracked a shit cause everyone else was getting petrol money.
“But Michele. You don’t have a car…”
Cue me loosing it at Sound level till I got my share.

Tres pathetic.

Well, that’s not the case anymore. After years of being a shady fuck I have finally got a car. Now I just gotta get round to the licence bit. See, round the time when you are ment to be learning to drive and all that stuff I was shoving Eccy’s up my bum, cruising around red-light districts and making a big lairy nuisance out of myself. Just ask porn star if you don’t believe me. So now in the autumn of my fast youth I am going to get sorted.
With “L” plates.

Hehehehehe…Not the most practical time to buy a car but ohhhhhh baby…WHAT a car.
Finally beckoning the primal call of my rev head roots.
A matt black 1967 Valiant.
I look at her and get a wide-on. Named her “Jenna” after you-know who.
My motto is that even if you know that you are doing something dumb and impractical do it with excess style and a heady dose of “Who gives a shit?”
Exactly.

Just went to have a shower to wash the nausea and sweat from my traitorous corpse, rattling, still trying to shake the last of this illness. And as I was berating and hating myself beneath the spray, a line shot up and sucker punched me from the beloved brain of my ever-hallowed Sir Hank.
“Keep yourself Respect in tact” He bellowed at me.
“Wah!” I yelled and dropped my loofah.

Do I? On a good day I like to think that I give it a nudge. But the point is I think that its one of the more honourable goals.
I think that it’s a good one to strive for.

I still think that I have the same points of integrity that I had when I set out into the world. There are some who would disagree but that belongs to them and they are welcome to it. You always get hung for evolving rather than changing. I stick to my guns even when they jam and backfire in my face. Maybe it’s the only code I know. Maybe it’s not your code. And maybe I don’t care. Howja like them apples?

I wish that I could forget sometimes. Forget what has been said to me. It’s a part of social interaction that I am NEVER going to get. The cruelty. Oh man! Of course I have dished out my fair share but what I have NOT done is reneged on my fury when the smoke cleared. I do not beg for forgiveness. I will give my all until I am fucked with and then you are dead to me.

I have always been this way and people get up in arms when I do it to them. They take my good nature for softness and stupidity, which is the dumb assed mistake that costs them.

Are my methods unsound? More than likely but at least in this society of sheep and sycophants I have a method that is mine.

My room is perfect tonite. I feel like I am sitting on top of the world at zero hour in the morning. Between the 2am riders on the road to nowhere I can hear the wind and crickets telling me that the city is not always nasty baby. Nothing like a false sense of security with a foxy soundtrack. I will take what I can get. I think we all get to that point sooner or later.

I never seem to write enough. I know what I want to say but it all turns to crap the second my pen hits the page. I am going on a kind of retreat after this next lot of shows. Going to try and rope myself in and see what I can wring out of myself. That and fish and have a few sneaky crying jags sitting out on the point watching the sun extinguish itself in the ocean for another day. May do me the world of good.

It’s the last runner I can do before we all jet and its been in the making for months.

Go somewhere where you like yourself. Burnt and clean I like who I am strong footed in my village when the locals are almost protective of me and the time that I have there. I feel dizzy but I am sick of lying down.

Archie from Doom fox rolls up and says “So I hear that you are playing Waken with us this year.” [Flicks shag cut hair] Goes on to tell me what a hard drinking rock god he is and that he is going to get me fucked up. I put down the stack of glasses that I have collected and tell him that he could never run far enough to get away from the damage that I would inflict on his skinny ass if he tried it. That shut him up.

I don’t care how hard you think you are. Stand and deliver on stage or fuck off.

I don’t think that I will believe it until it happens. I can’t place that kind of stock in much if anything anymore. No expectations? No disappointment.

The toilet is busted again so I have got my legs crossed to avoid going all the way downstairs. Just going to chill beside my Japanese “Apocalypse now” posters that Significant other got for Me. Sticky and mental.

I like the liberty of not giving a fuck what people believe to be true about you. Judge me lest y’all be judged motherfuckers.

A different thing…..
I want nothing but the scant few people I can be bothered to love to be happy. There is not enough magic if you know what I mean. Someone told me once that it’s called a breakdown because it’s broken. That swirled around my head for days. We always want to get the last word in no matter what carnage we cause. I am all knotted up about the human condition at the moment. I should get a hobby.Hell! While I am at it I should get a life.

Why do we all deign to make it so fucking hard on ourselves? So we will have something to report back to the other monkeys at the zoo? Is that it? We need to create drama so people will see us standing there waving our arms around like gibbering idiots under the loathsome weight of our own self inflicted misery? Learned behaviour that can be as addictive as anything else I guess. I don’t want anyone looking at me like that. I spend phenomnal amounts of time trying to be as small as possibe.to slide under the line of vision and avoid wars that are not my own.

Picking up glasses for pink shirted bell ends on a Friday night once again.Quel fucking sigh…. Was not going to do it but Porn was at his wits end so here comes Queen snot to the rescue. Hell, He’s always been there for me and as long as I have a voice and can make sound check at 4 its no skin off my fat ass [Although I wish that it was. I need all the help that I can get….]. Think that I am going to wear Miss Terror’s tiger hat for good luck and protection.

See you at the show.
Don’t get none on ya.
SF4L
Michele.

Sydney……Say that you love Me.

-Fleetwood Mac.

When I dont get my bath I take it out on the slaves….
-Monster Magnet.

I seem to have been asleep when all the flowers y’all sent me arrived…not.
Meh.
Ross got me back online last nite so to celebrate I am gonna annoy him with this dreck.
So,a year since my fat ass crash landed in LA.My! How time rolls you like a streeet kid hangin’ for a fuckin fix….That was one weird assed time.But they all are for me.
And then y’all got the BDO.
Mother-fuck.
I think that we should all quit music after seeing Iggy.None of us have any kind of god given right.I stood up the back and did my goonie dance between prolonged bouts of rock inspired sobbling and jumping on my significant other yelling and licking him like a speed dosed puppy.
Sheer magic.

Let me back track some.

Little and or no sleep you decide…Porn gave us my dream car for the day so off we rolled at about 3 in the afternoon in a Matt black 67′ Valient.With a song in my heart and my hand down my pants I stressed and smiled all the way to Homebush.Scored a park and rolled into the back gates drug dogs a-sniffin’ and lamintes swinging.I always love that moment.Its like a plastic coated VIP reward after eating shit for the other 364 days of the year…

Walked around and was happy that people kept yellin my name and throwin up the goats.Hooked up backstage with the boys and before I knew it I was stomping round with my drum avoiding the plague of fucksickiles playing Captain Oz, flags flying and tempers raring.

It was awsome.

If you where there you know I aint lyin.

Fell off stage and ran at a great Pace to catch the Beasts of Burbon.They opened with ‘Chase the dragon” Worst luck…missed it.
So there I am side of stage waving to Doomfox dave in the audience,Tex and co just OWNING it all over again…

A small stocky dude right in front of me with a grey buzz cut.And there it was, on the back of his neck….Four.Black.Bars. *gulp*
15 years in the making and I am falling apart.The moment mine for the taking.I saw heaps of people interrupt him during the show.Not me jose.I didnt know what I was gonna do to tell you the truth.Tex wrapped it up and there goes the man that was one of the main reasons that I do what I do walking away..do something Madden you great tool!

“Excuse me ? Mr Rollins?”

Damn it! My fuckin voice broke !He didnt hear me! Now I dont wanna yell at the dude and scare the crap out of him.I cough and go again and this gentle reader is what I said…oh man….

“Um ,Mr Rollins? My band just played here today and I pretty much have you to blame for me getting this far I just wanted to say hey and thank you.”
“Cool,Whats the name of your band?”
“Tourettes”
“As in “Fuck shitcunt…..!!!!!”
“Yeah man!”

Enter Tony Mott.With his new book featuring one Henry….
“Hey Michele,Hey Henry”
“Hey Tony,When am I gonna be in your books!”
“Next one for sure Mish,Henry ? Can you sign this for me? How great were the beasts???”
“I have seen them many times “Says Henry signing away while I stand there almost unwilling to belive this moment is befalling my wimpering fan ass….
“I have only seen them a few times”I say” First time I puked on myself and kept rockin”

(….tell me that i didnt just say that???? Oh Goddddddd!!!!!)

Sir Hank smiles shakes my hand again and intones “Michele ,You have got soul”

WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH*sob*

Ever dashing significant other got a photo of us together and I did a goofy dance all the way back to our camp.Soul??? Hell yeah!!!!!

I ran into a million cool people as is the theme of the day evey year.We bailed half way thru the meg and jack show and rolled back to HQ Shell shocked and happy.

The show at 77 a few nights later was sooooo amazing.I dunno what happened but it worked.

I have been trying to get the art together for the album and Ross has made the video a dream come true for me.I went down and watched it yesterday.Swoon.We are doing a limited pack for the release at the Gaelic club launch.Hand numbered and all Only about 100 I think..So if any of you overseas types want one hit me up cause we are only doing this one run.3 songs [ RFS-Circus-NOLA] and the RFS filmclip.Score.

Best I get into gear.I like Daisys,White
Lillies,Diamonds but only white gold or Platnium
please.Happy Valentine’s day you cunts.xxx.
SF4L
Michele.

-You understand that its not insecurity right?

-Yeah, I know.
-It’s that I am totally broken.
-I know baby.

Don’t worry
You’ll find yourself
Follow your heart and nothing else.
-Lynard Skynard.

Neil Young is blaring in the blood red living room downstairs. Reminds me why I sided with Lynard Skynard.Both the house and the night are soft and hot, alive with activity. Comings and goings.

It is so hot in my room that all my posters are shimmying to the floor. I rescued my big ugly Jesus picture from downstairs and it is keeping company with the mixed media piece that Pornstar made of Sid Vicious.
My treasure chest of mirrors and burnt sandalwood secrets is begging and flirting with me this evening but I will look forward.
There is nothing in there that will serve me by this moon. Pictures of the lost that are burnt into me anyway. To hold them would mean less than nothing. Negative anything plus a helix of never foreverness.
I am the key
I am the tattooed doorway.
My corpse tends to negate my wings.

Sunsets from the other side of the world. A year Miss Suzanne.365 days from your empathy and still I am flooded with gratitude. I find myself slowly returning to your town in my dreams now, Miss Annie’s hand, tiny and sad beneath mine. Teenage longing and pills for all your ills on black sheets. Jeff Buckley so sweet with your beautiful mother and her angel voice, the snow that never stopped falling, Miss Corrine and the coffee shop where I read the paper and hid from my lack of talent in the face of it all every day I Remember you all.

That is where I outlast the world. I wrote it all down and for all the goings that cripple me in the flesh, in the library of my mind and my million miles of paper, I carry you all until I die. I will never let you go.

My ears are paining me again but until I have a moment that is mine alone I don’t want to think about it. Miss Maggie, upon my bed today
-They are growing back aren’t they?
-Yes.

[How long have you got? I can give you a million reasons why I cant deal with this right now.no; let me rephrase that, why I don’t want to deal with it right now.]

I can’t take myself to any of the dives in my hard heart where Despair and me used to hang out. Not right now. I don’t have enough to get a round in. and if Misery finds out that we have been on a bender with out her? There will be Hell to pay and I still haven’t repaid Hell from that last lost evening that involved dark green liquids and broken promises .

Tapped out and owing my emotions? I choose to be ignorant.

I have much to do. And I have had quite enough of doctors.

The theme of the nite is bored and snotty. Miss lily and I are both in the mood for cake. I shall not bend to the desires of my shitkicking womb. I have lived on spiralina, masturbation and Nurophen for days. I am a golden god surrounded by shitheads, polesmokers and walking targets. I have seen my hipbones infidels. There is no turning back.

Songs are turning up and begging for admittance. I brush them away and snuggle back into the arms of morphious the dream king swaddled Christ like in my lovers blood and cum stained tee-shirt, my hello kitty doll locked in the crook of my carved arm.”Fuck off” I mutter “until you are ready to rule a stadium full of swaying lighters .”

I want only the truth now.
The cream.

One o clock in the fucking morning again.

Deluxe is working up in Queensland right up until the BDO.I guess that we will get to Jam a few times. It’s so soon but I am kind of numb. I feel like an am watching myself go through the motions.

I am happy that we are getting to play a thank you gig on the 28th at club 77.I know that not everyone can get to the BDO so this is for you

And here I sit like some big fat jabba the hut in my neat room. Ross tells me that when he walks in he is taken back to Calgary. I shudder but I know what he means. I have lived in this room my whole life. Shit stuck all over the walls and piles of rotten band tee shirts mouldering away in the corner.
I carry myself where ever I go.

Ah! the evolution of romance. You surprise and adore me, nothing is finer than you and I am throwing myself beneath your wheels.

She was beautiful and leaning on him at the bar. I didn’t see them both again for an hour and as I lent over to hear what someone was trying to tell me over the din of some shithouse 3rd rate band, I threw up in my mouth and swallowed like a heartsick trooper because part of me is always gonna see someone I let myself love long ago with a fat blonde in a New York winter getting his cock sucked cause I was NEVER gonna be enough You came back and pulled me back to now.

You are not that and I have to get the fuck over myself. My dumb past and me.

By small measure you save me. We fucked all morning until my memories died and rotted like those sped up art films of fruit and meat decomposing. This is the gift that you give me. This is the greatest gift I have been given.

I am thinking about people. I call Miss Karen every fucking day. She is tired and housebound. I have not been in town all that much and I feel like I am a shit friend. I don’t have any answers. It’s been 2 weeks now and I hope that she is ok.

Miss Anna lee of the coal black hair writes me with love and news. LA is still holding on and my band returned safe and tired. She said that she saw Ross and was sad that I was not there too. She listened to the most massive outpourings of grief from me and I wish that I could send her flowers daily to repay her massive kindness. We talked in cafes that you have seen in movies and I would cut my eyes to drink her profile on the sly.

When its dark we are all niggers here my dear.

Bones are showing me secrets and the heat infected all the crosses that I carved on my sternum crooked and unsteady. Me and my band, man, we don’t talk that much anymore and maybe that’s ok too, maybe that is just fuckin Amos and Andy. I need noise to fuck me till I call mercy and swear that I will be good this time .

Fuckin tools.
All I asked for was one support with my Big Brother. One show. Did I get it? What do you think? Fucking cockhead indie shoe gazers . All this 80s revival shit makes me want to immolate myself on stage. Set it off like the 4th of fucking July
Yes, I hate you
Yes, I am up on blocks
No, I have no Internet.
Fuck this fuck youuuuuuuuuu.

I have cut down on my thieving pirate ways since the New Year. Getting busted with pockets full of religious icon candles is not real high on my list of priorities right now.

I got a letter from the sister of a guy that I used to date. She is a cool hellcat who plays guitar and smokes more pot than is wise. She used to stay up all nite with me and eat macaroni while Casanova was passed out and confiding in his friends that my scars freaked him out. He dumped me and that was that. I wrote her a postcard from somewhere and he saw it. She tells me that he was stoked that I remember them

I remember her and I am left with traces of his cruelty. His friends were worth more that he will ever be.

I don’t know why I keep trying when it comes to relating. I must have been low. White guys with unhealthy Bob Marly obsessions. Quel shudder. Heres me all maudlin listening to Sigour ros.
Again.

Its either that or mobile zitfarms pretending to be terminal in Joy Division tee shirts. Hobbling in circles on crutches of youth of derived in equal parts angst, goon wine and bus passes.

By god I am pissy today. Almost completely nocturnal again. A shitful state of affairs.

Later, the fucking sun is coming up.

SF4L
Michele.

So he leans on the bar…

… and tells me that he understood all the parts that I had written about him in White trash and that it was ok. Its 6 in the morning and I am so tired and he is telling me this?

I mean,What the fuck? That its “OK”????

Fucking deluded. The ones that I write about don’t even read this shit. In fact, I tend to think that the ones that fill my fucking nightmare ridden head don’t even know I am alive let alone log onto the mobile ego wank festivity that is white trash.

It’s these moments when I look at the people that I know and think, “Who the fuck are you and how the hell did I get here?”

The weatherman is telling me that its gonna be a cosy 41 degrees on new years day and I think about all the new years eves that I have worked only to take your money. Coming home so tired and sober only top have all my drunk ahem friends tell mw what a boring fuck up I am.

Monkey tells me when she is pissed at me for whatever reason that “You are not punk! You are not rock and roll!!!” I can smile as I type that tonite feeling the ghost laminate around my neck, seeing myself on the side of the stage for Iggy.Swooning at Rollins, touring the world with my band

Tell me again?

Exactly.

Outsiders have got a pretty deluded version of what “rock n Roll” is.Od or blow my head off with a shotgun.Whatever,fuck off.

Have not really had my shit in shape since Xmas. Am working on completing my PhD in “Fucktardology” [“That’s Dr Madden to you!”] and reason dictates that I shall be the homecoming queen.

I gotta a friend who is in love with love. Love doesn’t call her back. I want to help but I died years ago.

There are too many stupid people out there tonite want to get an air rifle. It would be soooo good. That’s a lie I want a .22 and a flamethrower. Hell, the way I am feeling I’d settle for a spud gun and an ice pick.

NYE has got too much expectation attached to it. I am sinuous I will creep.

I question loyalty. He is only out for himself. I wish that I could be that rude as well. He knows what went down and still crosses enemy lines for personal gain. What balls! What a total cunt.

So we are now a poster. Hold me down. Teen dreams dolls. Its sweet as FUCK! Y’all know I am the doom fan boy I love this shit! Fuck you if you think that you are too cool.

All is well at the HQ.Still blessed with the grace and fine company of Diamond Lil and the Pornstar.When it comes to living in Sydney there is not a lot more that I could ask for. Back to the Gym on Monday .

20 days starving for clarity and practicing my drumming. I think that I can do this. We have 3 days lock out a week to jam someone will say that its not enough. Some people don’t know how to be gracious when it comes to the all to rare gift horses.

I swear I am going to quit lollypops in 06′
06′?????

How the fuck did that happen??? I am not going to do that year in review shit cause if you were a clever little squirrel you would have been reading this crap all along.

I spoke to Ash for the first time. My relationship with that man is some weird fuckin ju ju. He sounded a bit ill, but all in all quite positive about the spate of adventure that had befallen him and the Deluxe.
Tells me that he has heaps of new ideas and riffs for me. I tell him that I need the heaviest shit that he can give me.

War all the fuckin time.

I like all the places that we went with the last recording but now I want to cement my place as the heir apparent you dig? Strange, for all the ways that I am in a really good place the bitterness is still tearing me apart. Fucking traitors, whores, motherfuckers and lying cunts. I can temper this I tell myself but for how long?

Hate mail.
Hate mail
Jesus! Do you really think that you are doing a slap up job? Don’t write it kids come to a show and tell me all about it and lets see who makes it out alive.

You will never hate me more than I hate myself. It is a battle that you have lost before it has even begun.

Fuck you you visionless blagging cunts. Go and buy another band tee shirt from Supre.
Choke on my shit.

Angry? Moi?

SF4L
Michele.

Build your cities on the slopes of vesuivus

Live in conflict with your equals and yourselves
Send your ships out into uncharted seas.
-Nietzsche.

All you can do is cling to your obsessions . construct your own personal mythology out of them, follow these obsessions like stepping stones in front of a sleep walker . because if you compromise with your obsessions, that way lies disaster.
-JG Ballard.

What is the weight of your perfection? Does it bend you or keep you easy?
-Me, NYC may 05′

I am doing that thing I do this time of year. Going back through the hundreds of pages that I have written over another 365 days. So this is kinda a “worst of” if you will. Just some of the shit that flew out and king hit me. Most of it is a total load of crap but then again so was most of 05 if I want to have a good sharp look at it.

Enjoy.

Nov 05′
As soon as she saw me again she cracked like a roman statue.
Told me of being dropped onto a concrete floor, beaten to a pulp in front of her children. A son that was in her arms as she was pistol whipped by the last husband. And my coldness may well kill me. She begged me not to do anything. Not to walk in and snap his neck. Not to hunt him and return what he had given her.
As the sunset I asked her what was worth saving and as she sucked on her umpteenth cigarette.
Her relationships now the electric chair her, nurturing public fronted noose. “The children, the Children”. She replied.
Morse code flashing like LED lights red and poison across salted eyes.

..

All I ever do is listen and write. Nothing I could say would match up to the glory and sadness of what is confessed to me. I really wish that I were a crap listener.

Maybe in the end it was never worth anything, life being what you do until you don’t. I dreamt that I was sitting with a hopeless family fat and disenfranchised on the back of a flatbed truck telling them that the drugs would not help if they did not seek council. They listened until the father returned in a drunken frenzy and ruined the meagre home where they dwelt in hopeful squalor. I awoke cleaned and departed before he did.

What a fuckin year. This finds me at the foot of my bed listing to skynard and avoiding doing all the same things that I have been avoiding all week. The house is busy today and it makes me happy. The penicillin that I am taking for my abscessed tooth is wreaking havoc with my neither regions. I hate my corpse. I think that the feeling is mutual.

Seven at nite and the sun is still up. I can see the heat shimmering on the roof next door. I have been paper chasing all day. Purging all that I can of this year before the new one begins. So if it all comes out disjointed its because I am all over the shop. Nothing ever really makes sense. Me first and foremost.

Not getting paid so why should I?

[Late august]

I want to stop wanting. Why do I think that all my problems would be smaller if I could move on from my longing? I know that I am fucked and sick of myself. But if I leave I don’t win. I can’t not win.

I thought that I saw ******* in a cafe. Memories of baguette diamond fantasies in bougainvillea drenched LA.My heart hitched. He would have looked right through me. I look like no one that he has ever known.

I curse all the beauty I love in those stupid long boys that would fuck my sister but blag all my one-liners. How the fuck is that meant to work? Not that I want to be a sub par fuck puppet mind, I think that at this point I have a rather virulent strain of Courtney-it is. I too, long to be the girl with the most cake. And while I am placing orders relating to desire? You can take this extra 25kgs that haunts me and shove it up your ass.

30 days till hospital. You always find yourself waiting on something right? I got fresh batteries in my Discman and black converse. Road warrior! Behold. Saucy rock being.

[After a show in Bondi, early summer]

I am searching for any goodness left inside me. I managed to offend everyone tonight. Myself the most. And there is blood 20 years too late and never as relevant as it thinks that it has to be. They are so drunk. Why am I bothering tonite? I am going to get myself killed doing this.

I feel like I am goading it, tempting it. I am shutting down. I still want it as much as it still wants me. Bondi is seething and I really can’t stand it. I pissed off everyone. I break. I break. Everyone is high and the star of their own movie. It’s never the end of the gig for me.

[If u were here I wouldn’t be sleeping. sept 15th]

[Jan 1st 05.]

I tend not to believe that she was ever aware of me. She did not have to be aware of anything for she was beautiful. I was the watcher, the silent scribe to her follies. I would sweep the ruins that she left in her wake, and emotional seismograph ever measuring her heartbreaking damage.
“8.5 on the longing scale” I would muse to myself ever in her shadow noting the cataract like glaze on her admirers eyes.

This is love as I saw it.
A story of rich love. Fur coated, uninvited. Chain-smoking with a smoky laugh and Italian leather shoes.
Love.

She fucked unsuitable people and thought that she was always better in past tense dragging around her insomnia and her broken heart.

I spoke to myself
I did it because I watched her do it.
She would gather up all of her potions and elixirs and make her way into the buttercup walled bathroom with too many doors, all of which she would lock against brothers and rude uncles. Against the summer at large. She would sit on the counter; feet in the ugly moulded faux marble basin with its poky mission brown taps and lovingly tend to her beauty.
All the while conversing and answering questions to her adoring minions in the mirror.
Alert and witty ever ready with the perfect answer.
She was my eternal bet.
I sat at her feet like the dog I was.
I saw it.
I saw it all.

ALL SINS HAVE THEIR ORIGIN IN A SENCE IF INFERIOTY OTHERWISE KNOWN AS AMBITION.
-Cessare Pavese.1961.

Denial gets you higher than you were when you were high
And it’s about being less
To be more
And 30 hours in
You wonder
How you do it with out smoke and speed
As all the the beauty around you binges
And maintains
And I know
That there are ribs
And hips
Higher woman
Leaner
And break the habit
Eating is habitual
If you quit
[Please tick the boxes] Drinking
Smack
Coke
Vodka
JD
Bad sex
Hard women
Dumb boys and 60 sweet fuckin Marlboros a day
Ask yourself why not food?
There are bones beneath you
Ideal
Bullshit
Ribs
Holocaust in me in me around me holy bones holy bones
I don’t want to know myself here I want to burn
Stress and
Melt
Fit a fist between my thighs
Have people ask if you are ill
GAUNT
Iggy
Mick
Keith
Less less less.

[Written at the dizzy heights of my LA self hatred rampage April 05]

You call him “Daddy”?
Yup.
That’s sick!
Mmmmmm, Isn’t it?

-Conversation late sept.

[On the ocean, sometime in May 05′]

I know that I don’t occur to you if at all anymore.

Still,
I want the crown that has no thorns
It was not the name I was due to recall
Where I came from
I am the shape of what was forgotten
Of all that is unforgiven
Burning into glory
Don’t take it for granted
Strong and melancholy

Don’t discredit the velocity of absence
The ferocity of loss
Angled for penetration
My paranoia knows no distillation
And im fucked

On the wire
Under fire

Till I die
I execute important exercises in brutality.

There will be a test.

That’s it I am tapped and over myself.
Later
SF4L
Michele.

I want, I want.

-William Blake.

So the deal is, we go home get naked, wrap ourselves in tinfoil and attach strobe lights to our heads. Then they will KNOW that we are serious.
-Porn outlining his master plan to me in the middle of a rose patch at 1am after sighting a UFO.

Wish that I were you. Just for this moment. It will pass. I need it to pass. Or it may up and kill me.
You would love that.
Tiny dishevelled dreamlet. Everything about you owns an ice thin edge of perfection. Your mutilated beauty. Your drunken angry haircut. It all fucks with my tender padded periphery. I am drawn to the people I want to be and the gap between us so wide you could not hear me screaming my desire hoarse from the other side. So glaring that it provides no service than making me uglier by proxy.

Another lazy day of not being able to make it out the front door. For some strange reason our dryer is in the back yard. I got around to laundry. The radio in the kitchen is on the Jazz station and I am now sitting in the doorway to the grotto garden while my rags tumble dry like flimsy gymnasts.

The sun is playing fucky with my shoulders and Jay is sending me really off colour jokes on my phone so it’s not all that bad. Am I going to make it to the gym? I doubt it to tell you the truth. I find myself waiting on the rebirth that is looming round this time of year. Just knowing that it’s almost over.

I hope to fuck that I don’t die while living here. Bar the 2 tiger fish that I committed to a watery grave, all pets that pass away here are dried and placed on the mantle. Marcabe? Yes but also somehow oddly touching. I was struck by a vision of myself slowly roasting and drying next to the recently departed Fillet [a catfish] and taco-taco [a shrimp] I would end up with my head on the wall…. a pointy stick up my ass, in a jar.

The room that I am sitting in has been done in the same colour scheme as my beloved Ranch. It’s the 1st time that I have had a home in so long and it relives me. I have come home. I feel useful and easy here. Supported for no personal gain. Finally a family that likes me. Quel sigh. I know that I am a little far gone for such longing but I will take my teenaged kicks wherever I can get them.

I feel like jumping on my bike and rolling from house to house but I think I will wait till the sun goes down. Maybe I should be out the back working on what significant other calls my Jenna Jameson tan line. Wish this thing had DVD drive. I would prop it up on the toilet and watch porn in the bath.

Still cant afford to pay my dentist. Im sure that she will survive with the prices that she is charging. Mmmmm Tony Bennett making me get all swoony and chiffon swishy. This is where I stop. Where I am at rest. It wont last long so I am gonna roll with it.

I discredit myself a million times a day. My scars are itching and I am not wearing pants.Again.Heh.

Like I told you Ash is home soon and that means that I can’t put off recording with him anymore. The line that keeps coming up is “You can’t get there for here” Really weird fatalistic shit that I don’t ever want to try and explain. Just tapping the plague vein again.There are a lot of people around me who do not want to see me happy because they think that the words will dry up. That I will drop out. I wish! There is no chance. I grow on, as do the things that make me crazy.

At lest I have the balls to throw myself under the wheels again.

So I am wondering what is gonna happen when Sir Pointy and me end up in a small room again. I always tell myself that I am not gonna let him get to me. Lets see how I go with album number 4.Good god! Number 4 .

I think that all the shit that went down on the road will make a strong showing. I want to call it “Year of betrayal” Which will get crapped on by the rest of the band . as always . A democracy with a dictator. At least I know where I stand now. I will just cheat on them when I fancy. All the songs they reject I will resurrect at a later date as a fat guitar slinger…. really.

I loved singing at those last 2 shows so much. Just to feel the swell behind me. I think that it had a lot to do with Miss Suzanne’s stripy tights as well. That was the swell of the BAND by the way looked a bit perverted when I re- read that.

My Xmas list this year is as follows
1-Jessica Simpson’s teeth. Not her actual teeth but ones that perfect.
2-iggy pops metabolism.
3-Angelina jolies mouth.
4-dreadlocks that behave themselves.
5-68 mustang.
6-To release “Sicksence” on the perfect record deal.
7-To go out on the road in high style with my favourite bands.
8-my Sleeves finished.
9-The cover of Rolling Stone.
10-Cash.
11-a 12-year-old slave boy called Hassid who is utterly devoted to me and knows how to peel a grape and makes the perfect cup tea.

Ask and ye shall receive and all that shit. Butt crack is sweating and there are half smoked joints on the back step. Learnt how to play “Don’t Cry” by GnR the other day. I so want to shake Izzy Stradlins hand. What a guy.

Perfect line of crosses down my sternum.

SF4L . Michele.

A ruddy drop of manly blood

The surging sea outweighs;
The uncertain comes and goes,
The rooted lover stays.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson.

I’ve immersed my body in the river of vengeance
And thrown away my womanhood many moons ago.

-Meiko Kaji.

I don’t know how we were ment to play a gig that we were never booked for when half my band is in LA but I will keep you posted.

Its late here and I am sleeping at all the wrong times. I woke up full of 31 flavours of “Hell yeah” thinking that it was 9 in the morning. It wasn’t. It was 4 in the fucking afternoon and I sat on my space all day grumpy as hell. Oh root canal that I could not afford! Merry fucking XMAS TO YOU!

Miss Lily was doing midnight feng shui before. Sounded like 2 elephants buttrooting on a half pipe. I adore her. That is why I am eating all of her sultanas while she is asleep.

I had a dream that I kidnapped Rollins at BDO and kept him in a sexy glass jar. I hope that I can screw up the courage to say something that doesn’t come out like

“OH MY fuckin gawd! #$!! I LURVEEEEE you man gibber gibber gibber .”

That’s what I think I am up against. I know I am. I am going to be pretty shameless when it comes to getting him to sign my 90′ tour tee shirt though. You only live once.

Been getting some interesting mail of late regarding which way I swing. Well, with the right person I swing like a gate thank you very much. I think that if you’re happy it doesn’t matter if it’s a guy or a girl, I mean, do you really care?

Don’t limit and don’t label. Like Woody Allen once commented on bisexuality “You would never be lonely on a Saturday night”

I am flattered on all counts so if you have written and shared your feelings I applaud your courage and thank you from the bottom of my black heart.

Ross and Ash are home soon. I don’t want to know about anything until after Xmas thanks very much. I am sure that they are feeling the same. The jet lag is always brutal. From what I can gather it all sounds rather positive.

You know, I am not writing anything that I had in mind when I was groping my way up the pitch black stair well. Don’t know if I should beat on with it or just give up for now. Rob tells me that it could be LA in the spring. I have so many weird feelings tied up there still but they are being gracious and fading over time. The junk collectors are making an unholy racket outside my window. It sounded like the ghost of Xmas past, rattling chains and all. Voice of the beehive lulling me with their perfect harmonies on my clean sheets with my dirty mind ticking over. AC/DC came on the radio while I was feeding the fish tonite who then got treated to me dancing on the new found rug that had a dead pigeon in it when it was dragged off the street.

Fish do no appreciate me playing the air bagpipes. Fucking philistines.

This is my existence right now.

I still don’t know how to work this fucking thing. I don’t even know how to send all this shit through to Ross. I hate asking him anything. Compacts my stupidity. Mikey and I have still failed to hook up while the other 2 have been away. It happens. What can you do?

I was kinda shocked that Ross leaked that Picture of me with the red hair. I thought that we were saving it for the single cover. And people have been writing me about it. The whole image thing.
The truth is that it’s the only time that I can really fuck with people who think that they have got me all worked out. I look like an ass sandwich in real life so why not? I thought that was the point of film and photos. I look at all the shoots that we have done and the Clips that range from Festival live to Fightclub.

Anyone who has been through the galleries on the sikfuk sight know that I have been doing this crap all along

You have to push yourself. I second-guess myself a lot when I am fucking with the visuals. Still wish that I were genderless most days. Not many people knew I had a rack that casts a shadow until we did this last clip and shoot. I prefer not to think about it *Shudder*

Had a quick flick through the Blunt yearbook at the newsagents yesterday. The fat woman with the hairy mole on her chin was watching me so I couldn’t nick it. Don’t think that we rated a mention. I guess Recording with SYL, making a new album in Canada, touring North America on our own dime and Getting The BDO for the 2nd time doesn’t really rate or count for much.

Not on the rag just fed up tonite. Jay Blurter, Emosexual and good mate gave me a killer Social Distortion Bootleg for the stupid season or just to get rid of me who can say. We terrorized The Marrickville metro. Miss Terror also got a video of me beating up Santa.

Significant other found me the perfect red flanno, as he knows that the Bogan vein runs deep and true within me. I am gonna get Big gay Dave to customize my kilt and wife beater for the BDO.Feirce is the angle children. He is a wizard with my rather spiffy visions so I am going to look like an unhinged nutbag. Stellar.

Miss Cathy Pirate queen has pitched the idea of Me as Eve in the garden for a shoot in the New Year .We are just looking for a bloody big snake. Fuck eve. I am lillith.dark and zero bullshit. Eve was a push over . How ever it is going to look spanky as hell.

I must get back to the gym. That toothache laid me low for a week and pissed me right off. I have a month and a bit to find my bones and a million reasons to go faster and turn my blood round in my veins and for all the hours that I do nothing I am never going to have enough time. Guess that the 3 and me will fall back in sonic love. As long as it’s loud I still matter. I can’t listen to the White Stripes right now. I was happy there and now I am not sad? No, less than happy though.

[Phone calls and the voice on the end of the line is crying and blaming me so I just hang up and try to hang on]

1-
Eye contact is over rated. Besides looking down I found 10 bucks.

2-
She is your best friend. I gave you the leeway that you needed to replace me and you did. I left the space you once occupied empty so really it is not so different from when you were here.

3-
I want to fuck you until I explode. Finally. It was nothing till now. Animal genital mashing. You are heaven with a cock.

4-
I don’t look like the me that I think that I should look like.

5-
I am standing by self-mutilation. I am waving the flag. He draws me with his eyes closed and it all makes it something that I never expected and I am bleeding on your carpet and falling at your feet. How hot do I look with my pearl handled straight razor? step up sailor. Uh.huh.

6-
Miss Billie Lime I am loving our shared memory time tonite because PJ is singing to me 3; 14 in the morning and I can feel your brunette arms around me.2 summers since I held you friend.

7-
My number. You all tell me that you grew up like you are trying to shame my convictions, my life. Breed and dive. Smaller and I speed. I have got a decade on some of you and you have already bowed out. I am giving thanks for my narrow mind tonite and I am gifted ink 7s and I roll on.

I want to be alone now so I am going to go. Melancholy is here with memories that are sharp and I welcome the punishment that I don’t have to control, not tonite, tonite I give it over and go under. My dead are waiting with news on the other side. There is cake and I have missed them. Nick Cave will be sitting at the piano. He will play all my requests as I catch up with my lost but never forgotten.

Numbers
And starvation
Parchment
And self and I will see you there, I see everything baby
SF4L
Michele

A small heart beating in my abscessed jaw.

I told her that I would leave my jewellery with her, anything in lieu of the money that I don’t have and the pain that I did. And do. I have lay here for the last 5 hours staring at the corner of my Black Flag poster tripping. So high on painkillers that I crawled mewling and crying down the hall to the bathroom. I pray that my roommates are out. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. I have significant others tee shirt covered in blood and snot bunched up under my cheek.

I wish that I had this pain as a weapon. Better than the fantasy I had of making peoples assess spontaneously combust on public transport. I was trying to transfer it to my enemies, as I was broken inside the eye of it for hours.

Ross and Ash have both written me.

Ash wants to get home and play.
Ross is pissed that I haven’t written. So I wrote. Then he was pissed at what I wrote.

Today I abort myself. Today I am cursed. Sweating the foulest shit . my broken drug wasted teeth. The thought of finally meeting Henry Rollins, Thinking up perverted photo shoots that I want to do with Miss Cathy Pirate queen. Tracing my hipbones with a razor to take my mind off the pain in my mouth.

And I dream of money and freedom and plastic surgery and being in a coma and my hair growing back and stealing years and the sister that I lost and hectically drugged against my will I am melting into the mattress trying to work out what cars are fuelled by ill intent just by the way they sound, lights on my ceiling and I am paralysed. I swear to god but he’s dead . never listened to me anyway.

Fuck this all to small saveable easily storable pieces.
Today I rot and sway in the summertime.
I keep an eye on my enemies I am not war ready I am not a true believer.
I am running the risk of becoming all that I hate, today I am closer than I want or need to be.
And there I sat and mazzy fucking star came on the radio, Hope singing “Fade into you” and children you gotta BELIEVE me I just wanted to throw my self into that Mexican mouth and DIE Don’t wanna feel like I felt that lonely summer and the night opened like a hot wet cunt and you couldn’t tell me nuthin brothers and sisters cause I was livin on Marlboros and star dust I am lazy and inarticulate.
I am on fire motherfucker.
Burning napalm and iggy? Is it me? am I the worlds forgotten boy. I believe it to be true; when one is cornered there is not much else to do.

Crippled with my period I got up and sang again dressed like an 18th century whore. Imagining a huge red stain would mar the back of my crinoline if I hit to many high notes so I growled and stuck to the shadows. All were drunk and rolling except me. I was sick and pounding. Ominous, Jasco tells me that he is a resource and to use him. I blame myself for deferring with respect when I should have rolled on.

I am a bad leader
I am a wound

I move my mouth and it sends a hatpin through my jaw. Flat on my back I am nought but an ill-defined mewling shitfit.

Huzzah.

My fucking liver is pounding and I am pissing amber. Knowing that I cannot afford my life is . equal parts terrifying and freeing. No, I can’t explain it. I am hammered.

This is neither a safe place nor a wise shelter. I would not visit here of my own free will as it would cost too much to stay. Id want to, stay that is. Be numb for all time. But there would be that gnawing panic in me “gotta get more, cant get straight” You would come undone if you got straight after the numb. I can’t stand it as it is, I hardly KNOW what it is right now but I know what its not and it’s not a free ride or an easy out and that is why I love it. It’s gross and hateful and it’s my big dumb never- to- make- the grade life.

Mine
Non-synthetic, or boosted.

I don’t even know why I am claiming it right now. Lets say I like a loser. The runt. I am the girl child runt of all ages. I seem to have misplaced my balls and my ego.

I want to forget and I wish I could trust you and you can be Jagger if I can be Richard. You can have the spotlight, you all can. I just want to sing a while .

Mikey and lex came to the show as did Porn and Miss Lili and they said they were proud of me. I have been feeling so tattered that I wept after the fact. I rode Pjs words all the way to the aqueduct and I brought my Love, Miss Maggie’s tiny white hand in my brown-callused paw.

[Do ya love me? Do you love me?????]

Oh man.
I can’t shut my mouth and the air is rotting on my tongue. I am ment to be mighty and busy tonite but instead my corpse fells me once again. My lesson learnt today was to lie when asked, “What’s wrong”. That cool breeze through my red curtains makes me cry with a childish ease. My skin smells wet and dangerous to touch. My low internal swamp is filtering up through my pores.

I imagine the beaches marshal law and donut hindered oficers. Merry Xmas, merry Xmas. Like this was never going to happen?

Gonna try and sleep cause when I am there I am not here. Cant work out which is worse not that it matters tonight.

SF4L
Michele.