I’m carrying a set of bricks on my back all the time. No, on wheels. They are perfectly placed so that I can actually see myself through on the other side. The wholes are symmetrical and beautiful. Nothing superfluous here. I could, if I wanted, encourage liquid through the holes and let it stand there until solid. If then use the solidified liquid to support myself, my skeletal lines, horizontal alignments. 

Every bone in my body feels Like a concrete block suspended from the ceiling. My muscles are rows of steel punctuated by chunks of chunks

He is very smart, very cute and he loves sticking a finger up my ass.

I admire people so much that can eat one crisp at a time.

I have no idea if you are a distraction or the whole fucking point.

So sloppy! Throwing drugs in the middle of the pub floor
so sloppy!
taking bumps outside a Bengali estate agency
so sloppy
not hiding anything
being yourself
not wanting to meet anyone else and only
hang out with Kurtis
But you are non-monogamous!
prove it! Fuck other men! Go out! be sloppy!
Throw yourself at Antony the bounce man.
What if he doesn't want to meet anyone else either for a while?
Don't kid yourself.

BRING IN THE BOY!
BRING IN THE BOY!
DON'T STAND STILL!
IT WILL HURT
IT WILL STINK
IT WILL BURN

BRING IN ANOTHER BOY
ADMIT DEFEAT
COVER IT UP
COVER IT UP NOW
FIND SOMEONE WITH GORGEOUS LIPS
AND FORGET ABOUT HIM

DOWNLOAD TINFER THE MOMENT YOU LAND

I have a terrible cold and I am determined to destroy other people's selfies. I secretly appear in the background sneezing, spitting or blowing my nose.

What's the first word you said as a child? Μπριτζολα. What does that mean? Steak - medium rare.

My aim this summer is to appear blowing my fat, swollen nose in as many people's selfies as I can master.

If you took care of yourself like you take care of the plumping, life would be different.

He pointed at two fingers hanging from the side platter and said: the fingers are decaffeinated/ gluten free.


I have this urge to text him, one year later, and ask: what did you mean you couldn't give me what I wanted? What did I want?

I mean, I might as well learn something from all this debacle.

Knowing what the secret is, and they know it because they are it.

You didn't know he broke up with me. He broke up via email while I was at the beach drinking beer. I even opened a bond in case his son wanted to move in with us. But there was no real space for his TV in my dream. So, better we split up, I guess.

When mum asked if I'm in a long-term relationship, I got a fever for three days.

cock travellers to me nonetheless.
Despite fractured thing, looking at myself from a different angle changes everything. Wow. What a discovery. You also have to use ear plugs when doing that.

FRACTURED FOOT + FEVER = BED BOUND + NO COCK

what time are you leaving so I know I come back.

I fractured my foot that summer and dad kept saying: my daughter has a limp and keeps running after this boy we don't know. So, I had to introduce my summer fling. Mum asked, while we were all getting drunk: So, when are you moving to London? I said: we are getting married in autumn.

We forgot a melon in the car-boot for a week. it stank and left stains on all our swimming suits.

Mum says: I know I'm your muse.

I haven't fucked Nick and I always wondered why. I'm kind of proud there is one man I haven't fucked and I supposes I should keep it that way.

My parents' foreplay consists in mum saying: I am going to wash my ass and dad asking: why, is there dried shit stuck on it.

Masterpiece Ruins
Last book he was ever reading was something to do with Europe's Ruins. Then he went into a coma.

Am I a total bully? I always shout at my mum with every excuse.

Raw evidence. Simon was lovely in Wroclaw. Then he came back to London and became a dick. Only texted me when he was horny or jet lagged and then he blocked me.

I broke your doorbell cause you wouldn't let me in. And then found a sex cinema ticket on your table. I'm 38 and I pee in my pants every time I sneeze.

No presumptions. Just sex.

Don't want to pressure anything. Just want to fuck you.

Give me more, but not too much, I can't handle it.

Are you Maria Walnut or Maria Walnut? I saw your biopsy. There was no cancer on your walnut. Kaput.
It doesn't go in.
I don't approve of you taking care of other men.

I'll give him my sea towel I just thought about it even if my mum objects cause deep inside is everything fine and I'm grateful for all the comings and goings all the people in my life all the flamboyancy all the love
cause I'm made of love and appetite.
I'm not one thing. Im not a slut.
I'm a slug. I'm a big slug sluggishly roaming around looking for food inside of me and in other people I want to exist because of and despite of everything.

I want to say nothing. Only that I’m here with no bones, no contentions, no nothings, I’m here, I feel, I walk. I’m only worried about the very small kids on the tiny bikes. I’m worried that I’ll never be able to be as alive as when pushing a small head out of my vagina. Or C section. I’m worried that my existence means nothing to no one. If you are reading this, text me with the word: RIPE. 07845046726 

I just need to exist within a spectrum of seriousness and frivolity.

Do you have a thing for noses? Yeah, I like big noses! No, I mean, do you have a tissue? 

When I stopped drinking alcohol for a month cause I almost blinded myself when drunk, the first glass of wine I had afterwards was a really expensive red from France. 

When I stopped eating for a week doing a liquid cleansing, the first thing I ate was an expired quorn sausage left outside the fridge for a while.

Now I’ve stopped dating and having sex for a few weeks, detoxing. I wonder what will happen next. 

www.spitspatspat.blogspot.com

That’s it you’ve got it, that’s a single page a single page just move on move on that’s a single page move on you’ve got it

Oh no you’re right, there was another page 

When I close my eyes, my pussy is itchy 

There is no difference! 

There is a difference!

No there is no difference!

Yes, there is a difference!

No, there is not difference! 

There is a difference!

No, there is no difference!

Yes, there is a difference between Scottish and Irish accent!!!

.......

There’s no difference.

I’m looking at this scene from below. I’m lying on the floor or on a sofa bed. There is a cis gender man kind of cute that gets increasingly upset, because a girl who is a friend of mine, insists that there is no difference between Irish and Scottish accent. She is half English half foreign and she is trying to convince him to do the difference in accent. I feel bad because it seems like I may have brought these two people together. 

His life is sufficient unto itself

Love will kill everything

unlike itself 

it blows it into the nothingness that 

it is

(my new tattoo)

I don’t have to listen to anyone, not even myself! 

What did you say?

A child runs the length of the floor of a Costa coffee inside a Next Home shop inside a shopping centre in Barking. The child falls on the floor and smashes his face. The first memory he has in this tender age is me laughing at his smashed face. The first memory he has in this tender age is my loud laughter that echoes on the massive windows of the cafe, beyond the metal hydraulic panels of parcel force, beyond the pine trees of Barking forest. The dog is barking, I’m laughing , the mother of the child is crying. The barista has had enough, she comes and smacks me over the face. I laugh louder and louder, I’m so happy and held in this tender age, my first memory of laughter. 

Another baby is sitting next to me. She has more hairs than any baby should have at this age. Her eyes are massive and stuck on the sides of her head. This is not a baby. This is our bright future. Our brightest of our bright future. And I treasure it forever.