LAST NIGHT WAS THE CAFE NIGHT!! HAHAHAHA IT WAS THE CAFE NIGHT. REMEMBER THE BRAZILIAN? WHO FED THE TRAMP THE BRAZILIAN WAS A DUDE! I AM GLORIOUS BECAUSE THIS MUSIC IS GLORIOUS HAHA THIS MUSIC IS THE BEST AT PLAYING EVERYTHING. 6AM WAS BEAUTIFUL, REMEMBER THE SHY SHALLOW RAIN SITTING ON THE PAVEMENT, ALL THE EVERY PEOPLE GOING EVERY WHICH WAY, LOOKING AT EACH OTHER, GIVING EACH OTHER EYES, HOLDING OUT THEIR EYES IN TWO HANDS AND GIVING THEM TO THE WORLD. I DON’T WANNA DANCE WITH YOU I DON’T WANNA DANCE WITH YOU. OF ALL THE AWFUL THINGS IN THE WORLD (AND MAYBE THERE ARE FEW???!??) MAYBE MCDONALDS BREAKFASTS ARE ONE OF THEM? I HAD A VEGETABLE SAMOSA IN THE CAFE, AND IT TICKED ALL THE BOXES, APPLE SALAD AND JG BALLARD, ALL HOLY IN THE MORNING. THERE ARE FEW AWFUL THINGS IN THE WORLD. ALL THOSE EUROPEAN GIRLS WITH THAT AWFUL CASHMERE SCARF MAN BUYING THEM SANDWICHES (THE BEST SANDWICHES. STOP HERE AND THINK: THE BEST SANDWICHES) THEY STILL LOVED, THEY GAVE THEIR UNEATEN SANDWICHES TO THE TRAMP! AND THEY SMILED. THEY MIGHT HAVE BEEN FROM THE BROTHEL. DO THEY STILL BELONG IN OUR WORLD OR ARE THEY FROM A BETTER WORLD? A THEY’RE FROM THE PAST!!!!! WHAT’S EATING GILBERT GRAPE? HAHAAAA. THIS SONG GOES ON FOR EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVEF AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER ANEVER ANE EVER AND EVER AND EVER ANEVERA ANE EVER AND EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVERE VER AND EVER AND EVER AND I JUST TYPED THAT ALL OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU WERE STRONGER YOU WERE STRONGER
WE’RE GOING ICE SKATING AND I STOLE SOME RED WINE
HAHAAAA
I DON’T WANT TO DANCE WITH YOU I DON’T WANT TO DANCE WITH YOU
I’M GOING TO DANCE WITH YOU FOR EVER.

THIS IS A RUNNING NARRATIVE BUT FROM WHAT

this is night. this is daytime without light, wide eyed and not shy, not reading either just trying all the different positions in bed as laughter comes from downstairs. my eyes are kept open, in rigor mortis, by the caffeine substitute that might be life. every now and again cars pass by. this is every type of jealousy, jealousy of other men and other lives and jealousy of my younger self (my younger life) and the small collection of memories of which it is comprised. beata beatrix. we were a band once, now we’re not. cars roll by, ever deeper, tumbling down a hill to the city centre like loose boulders, towards the river, the natural process of life. it’s all a cycle. we were a band once. beata beatrix. what happens in the end? she dies. my limbs are betrayed by life. this is night.