Monday, 24 August 2009

one night last month i was walking to the 7/11 for milk when i noticed a small fight spill out from inside the pub over the road, onto the street. intrigued yet scared i felt over come with excitement, and before i knew it i'd crossed the road, shouted noises and involved myself within what can best be described as my WORST NIGHTMARE. normally i run as fast as i can in the complete opposite direction, but not this time. i got beaten, badly, which i was lucky enough to have actually experienced, having regained consciousness just in time.

i feel no attachment to that body, that body which b lined for disaster, only a fictional image in my head of what it must have looked like; stupid. and it was stupid, so so so.

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im a really really really really really swell guy.