bichoose (bichoose) wrote,

Sunday February 17th 2008.

The minute hand has wearily just climbed over the hour of six am,i am sat at this machine to gather my thoughts,for it has been a while since i last raised myself to sit at this hour on a Sunday morning and scribble spiders across the screen.Usually the previous nights grog, has only enabled me to only read my favourite blogs at this hour,or perhaps some friendly porn before i scamper down to the kitchen and clean up the previous nights debauchery with food.
Last night i bought one of those Hell-Cheepy.. giant bottles of wine the price £1.85.semi-sparkling,semi-dec unpronounceable names,the taste was piss with bubbles,but then i knew that for i once read that the first two pounds of any wine bottle purchased account for transport,labels, amongst other sundries.
Thus my mind dragged my weary body up the dancers to bed around 9pm on a Saturday night pissed,full of piss which must show old age is creeping rapid through the rhubarb flaunting troglodytes resting within,perhaps the troggs were pissed off too,especially being Saturday night, deciding to leave my body and dance else where.
Sending back note-lets of their adventures making sure i would wake at three am and stare at the ceiling wondering what to make of it all.At least they were not nightmares the kind where i pull up the blankets further to shut out the rages that nightmares bring.Those gasper's where death,falling,nudity lost-ness roll around the mud slides swirling amongst buried thoughts gathered along life's journey,strange disjointed storms in hailstone webs cast two imaged faces of people onto one body,vivid prisms awake colours of rainbows confuse in who,whom.The image either dies instantly or plods along with me all day shaking it off becomes a burden until nightfall.
Last night the troggs took me to a strange urban sprawling city i was not familiar with, i became the usual lost, looking for a shop or market stall selling toy motor cars,i passed a lorry full of water people were swimming,a girl fully clothed raised up undid her buttons " do you like what you see " she took from under my arm a toy train,a newspaper,which she floated on the water top,i received the wet newspaper back but not the toy train i walked on,i came on some children playing school teachers and pupils,a girl shouted " it's my turn " and took her place in a gigantic chair,the vision became the steps of a typically english town hall in her hand was a large cane as i passed i felt a few strokes on my back,i walked on.
Other glimpses of life doubled into this adventure,i met my father in an areoplane cockpit,he left parting words about my mother,i was not sure how to take them,i think that was when i awoke at three am...there was also a drift back to school in stead of shorts and flat cap,a summer dress,nothing else,no shoes no coat,i put that down to the simple thoughts of being a transvestite it is not easy some days are good others becoming haunting.Sometimes you have to simply hide it.Prince Albert does not like "walk on the wild side" his cave is full of slings,leather,butt plugs, large enough to make you bite through the ball gags and spit out,there is a baseball bat i once asked in my best macho-voice in wonder what was it for..gosh i thought really....there are pictures on the wall full of leather with cocks big enough to walk on.His own Prince Albert is a heavy thick piece of machinery dragging down his flesh,filling his complete hole i used to wonder how it rises,how it floats sperm out,but it does.
I am not sure if i will buy any more of Hell-Cheepy, the mind games leave allot of porcelain on the bathroom floor.

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