Wednesday, 29 September 2010


Time to breathe.
Inhale. Exhale.
Should I stop?

Eyes closed.
Hints of Light
Blinds Let Down.

Wind Chimes.

Sharp rocks getting closer....

Getting closer....

Friday, 24 September 2010


Phonebooth Conversations

Decks: “Let me guess, payphone, Eco-Park.”

Paige: ”Right, Eco-Park.” “One of the last one standing.”

Decks: “Ain’t it dangerous there?”

Paige: “I look like a bag lady.” “Relax.” “And it’s in the afternoon here.”

Decks: “Why can’t you use a cell phone like normal people.”

Paige: “Who says I’m normal, dear.”

Decks: “I guess not.” “You could do it at night next time.” “Like a film noir shit.”

“When are you coming back, anyway?”

Paige: “Well, I feel that Mr. Unattached is actually making me answer a question.”

Decks: “I don’t require an answer.” “Just an honest question.” “Your friends are also asking.”

Paige: “Not right now.”

Decks: “Look, if you need time alone, Just say so.”

Paige: “How’s Lana?”

Decks: “She’s here.” “She is in this band now.”

Paige: “Goebells?” “The Neo-Nazi’s?” “Or is that what they want us to think?” “Anyway, why not let her play in your band, Decks.

Decks: “I don’t think so.”

Paige: “Is it me?”

Decks: “No, hurry home, will ya? “I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.”

Paige: “Sorry.” “I was…”

Decks: “With Ron Jeremy…” “I know.”

Paige: “Always finding a way to make me laugh.”

Decks: “I aint rich nor good looking.” “Well, just…”

Paige: “Shut the fuck up.”

Decks: “Ok, I have this quirky good looks that art chicks go crazy about.”

Paige: “Oh stop.” “Heard about the gig last night.” “Was it that bad?”

Decks: “Anyway, we were covering The Swans and moron sound guy started acting like a fucking wanker.” “Then Lana threw a paper cup of beer at him.” “I’m surrounded by troubled females.”

Paige: “Aren’t you surprised you ended up with one?”

Decks: “I’m not yet sure.” “

Paige: “Hey, hang in there.” “Trust me on this.” “I just need to find my shit and I promise I’ll hurry home.” “No replies please just a yes.” “Could you trust me on this?” “Can I hear a yes from you?

Decks: “Yes?’

Paige: ”No question marks please.”

Decks: “Whatever you say.”

Paige: “That’s not a yes.”

Decks: “Yes.” “But isn’t this the other way around.” “I feel we’re like Sid and Nancy.” “And you’re Sid.”

Paige: “And don’t you fucking like it?

Monday, 6 September 2010


Long silence.
Awkward silence.
Nothing more awkward than taking a long walk with your ex.
Why the aggravation?
Why say yes in the first place?
We’ll it’s just walking and talking.

Long fucking silences...

“How’s the new band jelling?”
”Someone filled in for Paige last time.”
“You’re not even asking me to join now?”
“I’d know you’d say no, Lana.”
“What made you so sure?”
”I’ll think about it is not the same as a yes.”
“So, you like her?”

Long Silence...

“Heard about an episode of you.”
“From who.”
“I’m just worried."
“Fuck ‘em.”
“Shibuya.” “Your last gig.” "You went.." "Ian Curtis."
“You don’t own the rights to me no more.”

“What was it? Speed?” Meth?”
“Fuck off.”
“Look it’s just I’m worried.”
“Don’t fucking be.”

Random kiss.
Random long one.
Fast forward.
Why do people always smoke after sex?
I still couldn’t answer that fucking question.

“This is getting to be shit.” “Lock the door when you go.” “This means nothing, and I’m saying this so you don’t get any bright ideas.”
“Fine.” “I’m such a lightning rod for troubled people.” Thinking out loud..
"Paige was just perfect but you let her go.” “And fucking forget me.”

A little thud. A click of the door. And he’s gone.
Time for a long, hard cry.
For Lana that is.
Drummer girl.

For us guys?
We don’t fucking cry.
We do something else.

This is definitely shit.
Anyway, take the “Love Bus” home.

Fucking things still run.


“There’s no song about Thursdays.”
“There is?”
“Then fucking what?"

“Monday is always blue.”
“Or manic.”
"Or always hating it."

“ Tuesdays?”
“Nah. Just a band name.”
“Aimee Mann’s band”.

“Wednesday Adams!”
"That's not a song"
"Do you know a girl or a guy with the name "Thursday"?"
"Good fucking point."

“There’s Friday…”
“ I know.”

“ Saturday Night Fever!”
“Tony Manero!”

“ Sunday Morning”
“Love Nico.” *sighing*

“And Thursday?”
“Nothing.” *thinking*

"Fuck, you're right."

"But there are lots of songs about nothing..

Thursday, 2 September 2010


What the fuck is emotional attachment? Do we fucking need it? I just made another question without answeing the first one. That’s another question. Just answer the first one please. Unless you think about another question like, does love strike lightning on the same place once? Fuck, I just asked another question, didn’t I? And another? And another? Shit, this is getting nowhere.

Random sidewalk of a busy city. Dusk. Smiling faces. Fuck them.

“Fellini” she blurted out of nowhere.
“The director or some kind of restaurant” he said acting dumb.
“No silly.” “Did he do the seventh seal?”
“No, that was…” “Swedish guy” “Ingmar…”
“Yeah, that one about death.” aggreeing with him.
“I’ll remember him later.” “Not now.” she said.
“So, What about Fellini?” he said inquiring
“Not Fellini.” “The Swedish guy.”
“Bergman is the actress.”
“An off the hook comment.” “Out of nowhere.”
“Fucking Fellini”
“No. The Swedish guy.”

“Heard that you pissed Lana off.”
“Nah, not really intentional.” “I made a cheeky comment about her band.”
“She went ballistic.”
“Lana? Ballistic?”
“Not exactly ballistic.”
“I just sense that it’s going to be silent between us for a long fucking time.”
“You haven’t pissed me off yet.”
“You want me to?”
“Back to.”
”Back to?”
“Back to the ballistic part.”
“Do we need to?” “Alright, she just said I’m mocking her band mates.” “And I’m so fucking negative.”
“Herr Goebells?” “The dude is a fucking nut!” Paige smiling slightly mocking him by agreeing with him.
“I didn’t exactly say that.” he tried to clarify.
“Yes, you did.” “I could imagine.” “You could be a fucking prick sometimes.”
“Yes, I’m a prick but at that instance I wasn’t.” “I apologized but she hasn’t replied yet.” “She’s pissed.

“But you’re the king of apologies.” “We couldn’t resist forgiving you.” She said smiling and touching her nose to his.
“So, there goes the ballistic story.” “Ballistic shit.” “The silent fucking treatment.” "Incommunicado.” She continued his sentence.
"I feel for you, dude." She was a bit silent and suddenly out came a burst of laughter.

“Your turn” He blurted out of nowhere.
“What?” she was caught unaware by his response.
“You’re shit.” “That’s my shit this week.” “What’s yours?”
“I don’t have shit, thank you.”
“Ok, my apologies mademoiselle.” “What has been going on with you this week? “It’s a guy right?”
“Oh, you’re so adorable.” “How did you know?” “And fuck you!” “Bug off.” She being a bit defensive.
“Like a guy like me could never offer advices that you would never follow.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Trying to ignore him.

“Is it the guy with the long name or the one with the generic name.”
“Generic?” with her mouth resembling a "huh?"
“Yeah,” “Like, How’s your day, Paul.”
“Fuck off!”
“Or the guy with the long name.” “Juan Manuel Luis Alejandro.”
“You have no value for your life”
“I guess you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Not now.”

“Kidding.” “Lesso is the guy.” “Paul is the stalker.”
“Are you telling me the story of your life?” “And Lesso?” He's getting a bit surprised.
“You forgot Lorenzo” “Kind of.” “I’m kinda sharing it.” “There.” and she let's out a sigh.
“To me.” “Are you sure?” “Can you take my deadpan comments?”
“Try me.” she said sighing.
“I think you never take the next step.” “Or should I say you never take steps.”
“I guess I don’t like a guy if he starts to like me.”
“You’re so fucking profound.”
“I like to leave things hanging.” “Everywhere you look there’s a “what if” question.” “And you don’t even need to answer the question.’
”Questions need to be answered, I reckon.” “Or at least attempt to.” “Doing nothing is just lazy.”
“Slacker king is becoming un-lazy.” “The world is about to end.”
“No, if you don’t answer it the possibility is endless.” “What ifs, answering What if questions.” “It’s like the twilight zone.” “Why end it with an answer?” “I like this state of confusion, turmoil and even nothingness.” “The answer could be good but no thanks.” “I now you’re happy with Chloe and all but that’s not for me.
“Who’s Chloe?” with his eyes wide open
“I thought her name was…” realizing her mistake.
“It’s not and we’re not talking about me again.” “You’re so good at talking about something else
except you.” Him amazed at her way of turning the conversation around.
“It’s a gift.”
“It’s a curse.”
“Fine.” “A gift yet a curse.”
“Mr. Poetic strikes again.”

“I’m not saying anything.” “I’m the one supposed to be fucked up this week.”
“I guess it’s a girl thing. We always get our way.”
“Okay, I’m just a natural born asshole. I feel bad about Lana.” “Her silence is fucking killing me.”
“So, the adorable apologies don’t work with Lana?”
“I don’t think it’s working.”
“You kind of like Lana.”
“What the fuck?” “What did you just say?”
“You like her.” “Or in your twisted world, you would say, I like her shit, shit that she does and all the shit associated with her.”
“Are you finished?”
“Hey, we’re not psychic. But, you’re so predictable.”
“Leave it at that, alright?”
“Girl pissing off a guy? That’s new? Touchy today.”
“I guess so.”
“I guess so what?’
“I don’t like her.”
“Fuck you, I don’t like her.” “You are such a douche bag.” Hitting him in the head.
“Look, I have a lot of shit going on and I don’t want to rain shit everyday.”
“I get it.” “Sorry.”
“And you won again.” “We aren’t talking about you.”
“Girls rule.” “Anyway, my shit is boring.” “It’s the overused plot of an undecided rock chick that likes to keep things hanging because she doesn’t want to get to level 2.”
”The great unknown.”
“This is my ride.”
“I’m this way.”
“See ya soon.” “Sooner than later.”


Wednesday, 1 September 2010


Train ride home. Dusk. People talking out loud about their shit. Keep it to yourself please if you’re not asking for my help. Just don’t tell the whole world about your shit. That’s what it is. Shit. I’m not against you and we’re all in this shit together. But I got to take care of my shit. And your shit is better off with your kind. But don’t get me wrong. I support your shit.

“I thought that would never end.”
“What?” she asked as she removed her headphones.
“The Smiths.”
“Are you eavesdropping?”
“I could hear it.”
“What happened to the Talking Heads?” He was listening to the heads before.
“It ended a minute ago.” “I reckon I’d eavesdrop on normal people.” “Like that woman she’s going abroad.” “That guy is talking about his work.” “And showbiz.” He was being sarcastic as always.
“And we’re talking about people talking about things.” She said smirking.
“I figure.” “I find you ghastly and irritating.” She told him.
“And I find you obnoxious and screechy.” He snapped back.
“I mean what is that voice.” “It’s like a screeching tire.” “And that laugh.”
“I’m not getting mad.” “Fuck you for hating The Smiths.” she said in one of those half smiles.

“Show some love for The Smiths.”
“Over Fucking Rated.” He said smiling.
“Now now.” “That’s not the way to treat genius.”
“While you’re at it.” “Fuck Belle and Sebastian too.”
“Now that’s shit.” “What the fuck is really going on with you.” “It’s Lana right?”
“What?” “I’m not answering that question." "I'm not even listening."
“I’ll let this hang. The unknown is a wonderful place to be.” "I got the quote from you." Telling her.
“What fucking if?” she said.

Their talkie shifted to the gig that happened the previous night.
"Why don't they get a real sound man?" Don't they realize that bands won't play there if their sound system fucks up?" She was in a complaining mood.
“It was that bad, eh?” “What’s on the phones?” He was trying to change the topic.

“Crappy techno playing on my earphones.” “It's so fucking bad that it has this campy factor going for it.”
“It's still okay because "The Masses" haven't devoured it yet.” Him telling her.
"The Masses", the "FUCKING" Masses, the supposed majority.” “It looks like we were better off when Hitler and his so-called psycho cohorts were on the driver seat at least we had neurotic geniuses controlling our path to destruction.” “We're all going to die anyway but dying without knowing is like shyte.” “Assholes would milk you of your last cent and you leave your love ones fucking broke.”
“Finished?” Him smiling at the rant she gave.
“Fuck, yeah.”
“It’s me who’s supposed to let off steam because of a botched gig.” smiling but exasperrated.
”Fuck, I’m a girl. “We all have issues.” “I wasn’t at the gig.” “Sorry.”

“Why weren’t you?”
“Migraine.” touching the sides of her head
“Sorry.” “I’m not sounding angry am I?” “I was just…” “I don’t know… you weren’t there.” he was fumbling each word.
“You were looking for me?”
“Not exactly looking.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m just saying that you weren’t there.” “That’s all.”
“Now that’s sounding angry.” She said smiling.
“I’m not.”
"Your ears are twitching." She said laughing.
“Yeah, it twitches.”