PART297 DUBIE THEN BACK HOME


13th, December, 2010. I packed again and took a shower at 2:30 in the morning, the most ear splitting phone alarm went off as the front desk called me to say my taxi was waiting, I trundled down sleepily and after checking out I went to the air port. I waited outside the air port in the cold, finishing off a bottle of bie jiu and nibbling some pumpkin seeds. When I saw the check in counter was open I swigged the last of it and threw it clattering into the bin outside turned and left China.

A large tattooed Mongolian looking man with his hefty black eyed wife undid all the straps which made a zigzagging path to check in and moved to the front of the queue, groups of Chinese travelers cutting lines barging around people who were trying to queue and some just even skipped the whole queue idea and just went straight to the front around the path.

The flight was surprisingly good. The food on Emirates was edible and even a bit fancy, with a curry that tasted very realistic compared to the general plastic which I have tasted on flights before. On the down side the air hostesses where short tempers. Getting audibly angry when people would become demanding and also leaving the trays with opened packages on our collapsible table for over an hour. I just put mine on the floor and a hostess gave me a glare and picked it up herself. The flight to Dubai was 9 hours ish. It was a stop off before going to Heathrow

I was glad to arrive. I saw my one and only view of the dessert as the plane circled round to landing strip. The air port had many different foreigners but a lot of middle eastern men in the flowing robes and turbans. The people checking our hand luggage through the x ray where shouting and flirting loudly with the Asian women who were passing our baggage through. I sat and was about to turn on my computer to have my first glimpse of face book for a year when a man came and sat down next to me. He was from Pakistan. He looked over 30 but when quizzed said he was 21 years old. He told me about how the Pakistan way of life is the most advanced, how Muslims once ruled the world but now because of greed and violence they have become weak “when you move away from god you lose his power and you have nothing”. He told me as he stared wide eyed at a black woman’s ample bottom as she walked passed with her luggage. “We Muslims believe that this world is very small, god is loving but if you disobey him he will become angry, it’s very simple” he carried on. We spoke about cricket, women’s rights, the corruption and greed the west has infected Pakistan with, the surrounding and according to him inferior country around Pakistan and about the surrounding and inferior provinces which surround his own north province “the other provinces are mixed with Indians” He said in an explanatory voice.

When entering the plane we were broken up into groups according to our alphabetical seat numbers “it’s like racial segregation” an English woman tutted next to me as a group of Middle Eastern men walked on board. The next flight going to London was about 9 hours as well, very similar to the last but I was very much looking forward to getting off the plane. Eventually we did.

We all waited quietly and obediently in line, moving efficiently, keeping to our places with plenty of pleases and thank yous as we handed and took back our pass ports from the air port staff. We where defiantly back in England. I waited right by the hole in the baggage reclaim area and as soon as I got my bags I wheeled out my trolley back into the UK.

I feel at this point that my blog as it is should come to an end. I am back home for 3 months and it is mainly going to be about seeing old friends and family and trying to make a little money doing building. Things which I am looking forward to but which will be private and to an extent compared to my life in China be rather dull. Therefore I will refrain from a daily blog and will instead focus on my short story’s.

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PART296 WAITING IN BEIJING


12th, December, 2010. I woke up with a dry mouth and a head ache. The blasting radiator behind my head below the unopanable window had done its drying work on my brain during the night. I wiped away the dribble from my mouth and handed my ticket to the train master as he passed by. We arrived in Beijing station and I quickly walked out into the icy cold and made for the shuttle bus to the air port. “TAXI TAXI” A team of driver shouted at me as I passed by “no thank you” I said in English, they nodded politely and left me alone, Beijing people are much more polite than most of the other people I have met in China. 15 Yuan for a bus to the air port, got on and an hour or so later, stopping and starting on the hellishly congested roads of Beijing we passed out of the main part and arrived at the impressively beautiful international terminal 3.

I entered the second floor of the terminal and asked one of the many pritty women at the information desk if they could call my hotel so they could pick me up. She was surprised that I spoke mandarin and gave an impressed smile. I was going to wait outside for the hotel taxi to come and a westerner who was ahead of me let me pass in front of him. I have not seen anything like that for at least a year now and it almost brought a tear to my eye.

I began shouting at the desk man in the hotel after I was picked up, he had asked me for three hundred Yuan “ My wife called yesterday and you said it would be 190 Yuan a night” I shouted leaning into him over the desk “ no no its for the deposit” he said surprised and worried. Living in Xin Zhou has hardened me and my defenses are up more than they used to be.

To my weary annoyance I found that I had forgotten to take my flight ittinery from Xin Zhou and so I left the hotel and walked for a few hours around the big shopping areas to find a place to print it out again, thankfully I had taken the flash card with it on with me. After completing this mission and feeling much more relaxed I went to a Xin Jiang restaurant. The Muslim woman with their headdresses and middle eastern looks sat me down and asked “ are you Russian?” I told them I wasn’t and order a big plate of thick pulling noodles with lamb. I felt tired but much more human after eating something. I settled into my room and gave Sarah a call, already missing her we chatted about nothing, listening to her voice wishing I could hold her.

I needed some water and I went to buy a bottle from the hotels shop. I put it on the counter and the woman said “that’s 25 Yuan”, I couldn’t even be bother to scoff, instead I raised my eye brows and walked out and went for a walk as the sun set around the surrounding area, went to the near bye supermarket and got a big bottle of water, 3 beers, some crisps and a can of coke for 15 Yuan. I chose to go back to the Xin jiang restaurant for my last meal in China. I ordered a Nan bread, two large lamb legs, two plates of a delicious onion, tomatoes and other vegetable salty and vinegary salad and a bottle of beer. I sat and savored it all. A few couples came and also ate, Even after finishing I sat and sipped my beer watching the people come and come.

I tried to sleep when I got back to the hotel but I was far too excited so I watched Friends on the computer and talked to Sarah again.

PART295 FINALY GETTING ON THE TRAIN TO BIEJING


11th, December, 2010. Sarah booked my hotel and I went and printed out my flight ticket from a local printing shop. The atmosphere was tense and exciting all day. Mum and Dad and Sarah where all a bit stressed and snapped at each other regularly. I think they were worried that I would not be able to travel on my own. Dad began saying enthusiastically how much meat, vegetables and beer he will give me to take on the train. I told him quit clearly that I would not eat anything on the train and that I would take a few beers. He looked a bit disappointed and worried, like I was planning to climb Everest equipped only with a small packet of crisps.

Catzu who I believe is an excellent conductor of stress, began trying to dispel the general tension by dashing around the house, flying into walls and jumping up peoples legs.

In the afternoon we met Coach Ma at a sichuan fish head restaurant. Unfortunately he was very ill and the meal was quiet and strained. No one saying much, eating slowly. He gave me a book of red paper window cut outs, all pictures of wrestling. They were so beautiful and I was so touched by the present. Yifu, Sanyi and Hao hao also came along for the meal. After the bill was paid we walked home, I said goodbye to coach Ma and told him I would call when I got back. He looked so ill, sweating and tired; he climbed into his van and drove off. As this was happening Sanyi, Yifu and Hao hao had all left without saying goodbye. I wished that I could have said goodbye but they always do this. Certain people just don’t do goodbyes.

I brought a couple of pairs of ear warmers on the side of the road and Sarah and Mum laughed at me as I wore them back home. Many workers peddling slowly on the road on their three wheeled bikes had the same ear muffs on. Dad had walked home extra fast, he always does so, a man with a mission.

Sarah and I carried on past our flat and we went to take some photos of my wrestling school, I took some videos of a group of elderly people standing facing a brick wall, eyes close hands on stomachs and a look of other worldly concentration as they practiced qi gong to a song about the revolution. A man with a kit let the line out as far as it could go and stood watching the small bird shaped kit in the far distance, a small blip next to the sun. A small exhibition about corruption and the police was being shown in the park next to the running field. A throne with a pile of money, a glass of wine, a woman’s foot in a red high heal under three of the legs. A plaque underneath said “ Money, women and drinking are the way to a high position of corruption.”

Sarah and I rested and woke up in the evening. We got a taxi to the porridge restaurant I first went to with Truman. I wanted Mum to go there as she basically only eats porridge, whenever we go to other restaurant she pretends to eat the food but under the well practiced exterior I can tell she is thinking about getting back home and making herself a bowl of bland rice porridge. Dad Mum Sarah and myself arrived and Friendly rung to say he would not be able to come until much later. I was glad; to spend some time with my family until I left was more relaxing and comfortable. We ordered a bowl of porridge each, Sarah got the chicken one, Dad and I the sea food and Mum the plain one. Thick slices a fatty pork with rice buns to put them in, a banana pancake, salty donkey strips and salty eggs. Dad and I drank the home made bie jiu and he told me “ this is your home you can come back any time whenever you are unhappy where you are, please come home”, Mum nodded in agreement “ Yes and next time you come back we will have a wedding ceremony for you”. Her eyes alight and interested “you have given so much money when you have gone to other weddings now you can get some back” I said to her jokingly. Mum giggled embarrassed and surprised at what I said. We ate slowly saying little but I felt calm and content. None of the manicness of the past week, I had reached the eye of the storm, saying good bye to my Chinese parents and wife.

Friendly and Ariel arrived we drank some more, ordered some food and Friendly and I said goodbye eventually. I was sadder at the meal and I was exhausted of sorrow when the time came to say goodbye. I collected my bags and Sarah, Mum and Dad and I piled into a taxi at 11:30 to get to the train station. I didn’t really want them to come at first but in the car then going through the station I felt pleased they had come. While Dad went to buy tickets for them to be able to get on to the platform with me Mum asked worriedly if I was alright to carry so much luggage. I told her the story about when I was first coming back from China, How I had a moped accident while I was drunk, had deep cuts on my upper thigh and ankles, and road burn and bruises every where not to mention a deathly hang over and had to travel from Yang shuo all the way to Hong Kong with almost twice the amount of luggage “It was the worst time ever” I concluded as she giggled repeating what I had said. The train came early and I managed to dash on being the first one. Without even a hug from Sarah I court a glimpse of her face as the person behind me pushed me deeper into the carriage. I found my bunk and stowed my bags underneath my bed and looked out of the window down to the dark platform where Sarah Mum and Dad where standing waving at me. The train shuddered and jerked into motion and they passed out of sight.

I lay down on my bed with a sigh and drank the beers Dad had put in a bag for me, I fell asleep hours later as the dark night passed by outside.

PART294 Visiting the flange factory


10th, December, 2010. Today I felt alive when I woke up. I lay in bed watching Sarah on the lap top. She looked worryingly morose. I imagine putting unnecessary pains into my leaving. We made our self’s day ready and emerged onto the cold streets at about 1:00ish. Small chunks of rubbles and plastic flying at my face. A policeman’s hat flew off and he ran quickly in pursuit as the strong racing wind made off with it. Trees whipping violently, dust clouds whirling along with the cars like elemental spirits.

We got a taxi to KFC, a warm up before my last Si chuan spicy noodles meal, but lack a day Friendly calls saying we are going to see the Flange factory with his boss. Cancel the noodles, a quick burger and a taxi ride later and we are at Friendly’s hotel and the boss drives us all to Ding Shang village where his factory is located. He drives a big jeep; I find a razor shape dagger in the door compartment. It looks old fashioned with a red stone on the hilt. The boss begins talking about all the countries he has been to; he says he has been to about 40. Sarah asked what food was his favorite “I liked Indian food a lot, the curry’s and the flavors are very similar to Shanxi style”.

I chuckled I knew he would Say something like this, I think for Chinese they think their own food is the best. I agree. I asked which country was the most polite “England and Japan are the most polite; they have a lot of tradition and most of the people I met where very respectful”. I asked which he thought was the most impolite country “ the middle east, they are so rough, when I was on business trips there they don’t look after their guests well, they act as if you’re not even there”.

We turned off to a dirt road and rumbled and jiggled along in the dust until we reached a collection of ware houses and old brick walls. Inside the brick walls we stopped and got out, a long court yard containing piles of different metal. Girders over 20 feet long, huge wrecking balls of gray metal, A huge crane on a sliding run stood still, a few grim looking workers smoking fat cigarettes stood next to a bulky circler girder and watched as it was slowly dragged into another ware house by a chain. We had a look in this ware house as well and it contained even more raw metal in shapes and sizes I don’t care to describe. We went through a series of ware houses looking at the furnace where the metal is heated and the machines which are used to press and pull the soft metal into giant flange shapes. “Shanxi is short of electricity so we are only allowed to work at night” The boss told us.

I had thought that it was quiet and not much was going on, but as the sun set the massive machines rumbled into life. Huge robotic arms grabbed the molten disks out of the furnace and placed them on the stretching machine while workers housed down the machines to keep them cool, the workers dirty and hardy when the sun went down they emerged from different doors and corridors like creatures of the night. Drills made defining noise as they ate through the flanges making threads for screws to go in later. I didn’t think they would be so big. I thought I wanted to take a few samples back but even the smallest flanges where heavy and as big as a basket ball. The biggest being meters wide.

Next we saw the testing and quality testing building, machines which tested the mineral contents, a hammer which would hit the flanges to test their strength. In every room we went the boss told us how expensive the different machines where “this one cost more than my jeep” he pointed to a vending machine sized green box which was used to check for mineral imbalances. Everyone wore blue jump suits and had clip boards; it was like being in a bond villain’s underground layer. After our tour we climbed up the stairs in the test building and had a rest in the bosses office. Messy but housing expensive trinkets. A long bullet shell stood next to a big jade carving by the door. Bottles of the best Bie jiu in their glittering and red cases specked every surface. A Kung fu tea set on a table by the window. We sat and the Boss began the laborious task of boiling the water pouring it through various beautiful tea pots and then into out minuet cups. This style of drinking is called Kung fu tea, I believe it gets its name because you have to work so hard to get the tea, it’s a delicate ceremony. I think people like it because they are serving others; they are like the host, keeping everyone’s glass filled, the important tea man.

The next few hours where an inspiration, hearing how the boss achieved his wealth, how he bought the hotel which Friendly now works in, how it was shut down due to corruption, how everyone pleaded with him not to buy it. He did anyway, with no help from anyone “Clever people are rarely successful, the best thing is to be brave, to try again and again even if you fail. To believe in your dream and to do anything to get it.” He talked about how he believes in treating people well and that is the best way to do business. He is hoping to get on the stock markets in a few years ( not that I know what that means or how ones does it), he feels his hotel is very useful, he can entertain many important people and treat them all well thus maintaining and creating new important ties. He told me that he would be very interested in me become his sales person in the UK “I have no native English who work for me, you will be trusted more by your own people” He told me. I was inspired to do great things. He gave me a load of brochures to take back to the UK and he introduced me to two young women who can speak English and who I would be working with. Both wearing large shapeless blue jump suits, both pretty and small.

The Boss could not take us back to Xin zhuo himself so he got his driver to take us back home in his big America luxury camper van. TVs on every chair, DVD players, telephones, massages on all the chairs and snazzy neon lights on the ceiling. “We should go and eat at the hotel tonight” Friendly said as he lent back to talk to Sarah and me. We had planned to meet King for a goodbye meal tonight but after all the trouble Friendly went through today we thought we should be with him.

We invited King to the hotel as well and Sarah’s parents came too. Kung pow prawns, giant mushrooms with broccoli with a yellow statue of a Buddha, shredded stake with chilly, Sliced potatoes with vinegar. Traditional Shanxi noodles and a sizzling meat dish with vegetables. Dad brought along his home made 65% bie jiu. When King arrived we drank so quickly it was frightening. I began to worry for my safety. Friendly’s son and wife came and having all these people I knew and loved around me with food and drink, feeling warm and fuzzy from the wine I had to fight not to cry. I was touched and always have been at how well I am treated and how much effort and kindness is heaped a pone me.

Friendly also looks sad and so did Dad. After the meal Friendly left quickly after we had all taken some photos. I got the slight feeling that he didn’t like King very much and the next day he told Sarah “Kings Jokes aren’t very funny and he is so rough”, I laughed because those are the exact reasons why I like King; I also find it interesting that different friends will not get along. If you got all your friends in one room at the same time I wonder if it would be a party or a miss matching mess? I think different friends fulfill different needs so they have to be very different. Friendly and King arranged to meet us all again the next night and my heart sank for a moment. I had been gearing up for saying goodbye tonight and it was getting to be too much having these unrelenting goodbye meals were memories and sentiment ooze from every atom.

King, Mum, Sarah and I went to a KTV to do some singing. King turned out to be an excellent singer “My family and I have competed on the CCTV singing programs” He said proudly after signing a love ballad. I sung my Chinese pop song from the Taiwan girl band SHE, Mum battled with a few exceptionally hard Mongolian throat singing tunes and Sarah sang all her usually soppy love songs. King drove us home and I sat on the bed too drunk to lie down, gently biting my lip in surprise at how numble it was, trying to make up meaningful sayings about judgment. Here are a few I came up with

“Judging others is like eating your own leg”

“Judging others is like putting an alien in prison for a crime he has committed in your own world where he doesn’t even live or exist”

That settles it, drink writing is dangerous.

PART293. Finished packing


9th, December, 2010. I well and truly packed everything today. I thought that I would have loads of space left but yet again I was jamming cloths and presents into my back pack, I may even need an extra case. I tidied our room, putting everything of mine into a wardrobe cubical; I have so many shoes here! And they are all old and I have not worn them in ages. I am a shoe magpie. I respect the shoe. It’s a very useful item and without it the path we tread is hard and hazardous. I stacked my knifes, nunchuka and sticks into another draw, slid my wooden sword into my bag to take back to the UK, only keeping the machete by our bed side table.

There have been multiple stories lately of robbers climbing up the outsides of buildings and coming in through the windows to rob people. “ they are so brave, they have no fear, even if people are in the house they will climb in with knifes” Sarah told me after one of our Nabors said the police court a robber who was already inside the house 2 floors below us. A machete by my bed makes me feel safe and recently I have been keeping a telescopic baton in my coat pocket when I go out. I doubt anything will or would happen but luck favors the prepared doesn’t it?

I had finally polished off all the beer in the house. A month ago when I looked at the mountain of boxes I wondered if I could get through it all. Today Dad got me one last crate before I go. Sarah called me from work today saying that Friendly could not come out tonight, he was not in the mood because he had been drunk again and hit a girl while he was driving, she was in the hospital now. A wave of irritation passed over me, thinking about all the drink driving done in China. How people, mainly a lot of the men here are just like big children, grown up under corruption and made useless by having everything handed to them on a plate. Loud, fat useless idiots who think they are the bomb. I was glad Friendly felt bad about what he had done; he deserves to go to prison as far as I am concerned.
Having walked Sarah home most days from work we are constantly watching out for reckless drivers, who race along the small roads meant for bikes, narrowly missing the people who have to jump out the way, blaring their horns nonstop. Last week a car swerved at Sarah and at the last moment the car pulled away almost hitting her. As the car went past Sarah heard the men in the car laughing.

I had a bowl of pulling noodles on the way to pick up Sarah; the restaurant was empty apart from the family who owned it. They are from Lanzhou province, I don’t know exactly where it is but they don’t look like the Han Chinese, they are dark skinned, have almost brown hairy and a more Middle Eastern look. They are Muslims, the girls of the family with their head dresses on. They all smiled and greeted me as I entered, they know me quite well now. After the steaming bowl of noodles I went to the Hotel where Sarah is working. Friendly greeted me and we went to meet his boss, I wanted to talk to him about his factory which sells flanges. I want to see if I could be a seller in the UK. Friendly led Sarah and myself up stairs and we walked along the corridor behind Friendly, he entered a room and came out half a minute later looking a bit worried “ the boss is very very drunk” he said almost apologetically. The boss lurched out half a minute later, red faced clutching a cigarette. We all sat down on a sofa in the hall way. He was super friendly, saying how I would be welcome to go to his factory tomorrow and how he hasn’t got any native English people selling for him. He spoke about how all the flanges are standard European sizes and have a quality check which allows them to be sold abroad “almost no one in Europe makes flanges because it’s too polluting, so we sell a lot to the west” The boss said slurring his words, Friendly holding an ash tray under his cigarette which had a drooping ash ready to fall.

We arranged to meet the next day and he was led by a procession of people back into the business meeting he was having.

We went to eat with all the head chiefs who had finished work. I felt very uncomfortable going into their work meal. They were all stone faced and the atmosphere was thick “they are all so nerves around Friendly, he is their boss. When he isn’t around they are so funny and laugh a lot” Sarah told me afterwards. Friendly had cooked mini stakes and beer fish just for me which I thought was very touching indeed. A soupy noodle dish, stir fried beans with pork and rice porridge. All delicious but with the tense work like atmosphere I could not wait to leave.

Now back at home I know I only have two days left and so many people to see, so much to do. After all this time of thinking about going back, after all the waiting there is no time left.

PART292 saying goodbye to Truman


8th, December, 2010. I woke up at 4 in the afternoon when Sarah came back for her lunch break. I felt wretched. I scare myself when I think back to last night. A thoughtless mission. I spent the day on the verge of throwing up, closing my eyes in a vain attempt to stop how ill I felt. I ate an orange and a few giant dumplings, Sat on the bed and played with the cat. The thought of how going back to the UK is bucking my head. I feel restless and bored as if I want to go, but then again I don’t really want to go. I feel like life is boring, an exhausting up hill bore.

In the evening, feeling more myself I go out to meet Truman for a meal, our last one, a fair well. I have grown very fond of Truman lately. We discuss where to eat but before that we go to the large supermarket near Friendly’s hotel and buy a big bottle of Fen Jiu, a famous Shanxi brand of alcohol. “I remember my father used to drink this alot”, Truman said as he picked up the plain bottle.
I thought about how he had up until recently and for the last 10 years or so been looking after his father who was bed ridden because he has been a drunk. I wonder how differently he must look at alcohol now and I thought how much I would have to drink to become bed ridden.

As we left the super market I held open the thick plastic sheet over the door for an elderly man “ssank you” He said with a smile. I was so shocked at him speaking English that I let go of the sheet and it fell heavily on his shoulder.

We chose a new restaurant on Hu ping road. “Why don’t you just eat vegetables tonight?” Truman asked me. A serious Buddhist he feels strongly about eating no meat. I agreed. We ate cabbage in a sweet sauce, spicy tofu, corn juice and many other green vegetables. The first shot of Bie jie didn’t go down easy; it was the original unrefined brand. Burning like a hell all the way down. After a few more and some good food I began feeling human again.

Truman talked about his Grandfather who was the vice Mayor of Xinzhuo until he was put in prison during the Cultural Revolution “He was so angry, a bunch of teenagers beat him up and threw him in prison, when I was young my Mother used to say, if you see anything going on on the street, walk away ignore it”.
We talked about ghosts, Truman told a chilling story about when he was in Guangzhou with his family as a child “ we stayed in a hotel and when I was in bed asleep I woke up and could not move, a shadow in the shape of a hand lay next to me on the other pillow, I tried to scream but I could not. I thought it was just a bad dream but the same thing happened the next night. I told my parents and even though they didn’t believe me we changed rooms and it didn’t happen again”, I spoke about my fear of messing around in that area, like sticking your hand in an unknown hole. “Confucius said that you should respect the gods and the ghosts but to keep distance from them as well, we are living they are dead” I agreed with this view.

I hit a pone a similar vein with Truman, we discussed how we both try hard to control ourselves, maybe because deep down we are a bit crazy. “I want to destroy myself” I said, trying unsuccessfully to say exactly what I meant.

We finished off the bottle of wine and left, Talking and laughing. We went to pick Sarah up from work and took a few pictures with some of the other chiefs “it’s his dream to take a photo with a foreigner” Sarah said about the tall chief posing next to me. Sarah looked very beautiful and professional in her white uniform and high hat; we stood and took photos in the large sparkling lobby of the hotel.
Her work mate who is also an ‘abalone queen’, they both cook the abalone and sea food soup took a picture with me, smiling and laughing. Sarah had told me she is trying to divorce her husband but he will not come home so she cannot do it, so now she is going to sue him. To this he said that if she doesn’t stop bothering him he will go and kill her family. It reminded me of when I was in Yang shuo and a teenager whose girlfriends parents refused for them to be together had gone crazy and went round to their house and butchered the whole family including his girlfriend.

The other abalone queen only makes 600 Yuan (60 pounds ish) a month so she is now living with her mother in law and her son, she cannot afford to move out. “I just want to find a rich man and become a mistress or a wife”, she tells Sarah dreamily while they work, and she becomes angry and jealous whenever she sees rich people or rich mistresses in the hotel, moaning about cooking all this expensive food but never being able to eat it herself.

We walked home along the cold road, cats and dogs gorging on the left over food and slurry which the restaurants had sloshed around the road side drains. For a cat or dog in this town starving isn’t a big hazard, even the scruffiest or homeless mutts are porky and never look hungry.

We parted ways with Truman and after a hug and exchange of emails he trotted over the road and away down a small street towards his home. I watched him walk until he was out of sight. I wonder when I would see him again, maybe in a few years at least, another good friend to say goodbye to, the countdown has begun and the first good bye is over.

PART291 A lonely binge


7th, December, 2010. I have been binging, I wonder in my life what I have really tried at? Something I have put my whole heart into, and binging is the thing I have put it all into. Everything else I have done has been a half effort. Tonight I stayed awake under the guise of writing, I have been awake now for over 24 hours, yesterday I didn’t train and after breakfast I started drinking, beginning with a shot and carrying on with beer. I am now at the end of it all; my vision is fixed on this glaring screen, a platoon of 9 big bottles stand empty on the table beside me, my shot glass a midget amongst these green giants, the rest of the crate I finished today waits in the kitchen.

Spent shells in the war against myself. I wonder what time I will wake tomorrow. I wonder why I am drinking alone. My stomach hurts a pain in the lower left hand side. A stab and a throb. A last beer waits for me at 7 in the morning, typing shit, do I have a problem? Tomorrow is today. Tonight is the morning and when I sleep then wake it will be the afternoon.

I am dizzy, my ears like sick liquid, changing my balance, even though I am sitting down. I blink and flip breath and fall. I chase the dark and it embarrasses me quicker than I like. I am in the dark for ages, am for more to come. I change my world to become this, to become unsteady and dim.