Whilst this blog is entirely factual its probably best if you read it as fiction. Names have been changed.
Wild, whirling dancing. Carnal. Primordial. Primitive, post-modern - shambolic, shamanic forms. Like reincarnated spirit beasts, half naked forms (Tetskaja fully), covered in face and body paint and totemic tokens. Beads and glow sticks, strange many stranded costumes, fashioned from sliced up bin bags and coloured cloth. They were paying homage, worshipping their new idol. A (presumably stolen) wheelbarrow that now sat on the coffee table like the Arc of the Covenant.
They danced in a frenzy, the rhythms of the bongos getting faster and faster. Mankad wore a turban made from a towel. Mark in nothing but his boxers and a Wednesday shirt, wore a beaked mask (and he's the normal one). Five adults dancing round a wheelbarrow on a Sunday night. I couldn't decide whose doing it might be. The obvious candidates were Tetskaja (some magic shit) or Mankad (some Mankad shit) or a combination of the two. The new crop of mushrooms that they grow in the loft might have had something to do with it.
I closed the door and went back up to my room. That's what happened after I posted my Sunday entry. That sort of thing is normal at our place.
Yesterday I was depressed but today I'm better. No Magenpie again. I think he's gone, bought a sat nav, or flown into some other window and been got by a cat. In a weird way I miss him, but I've got all his imprints on my window. Its a really arresting image. All those outlines superimposed atop one another. Would make a good photo, though I don't have a camera.
For as well as being a troglodyte (20ft between back walls of houses = no sunlight) I am also a confirmed luddite. My phone is, well it pre dates phones having cameras. I have a computer. Why spend loads of money on a phone when its just going to get lost, broken or stolen? Can't do basic computer functions like word processing. Waste of money. And don't get me started on social media.
I wrote a really long poem that's a rip off of the hunt scene from Gawain and the Green Knight. I messed with it a bit by changing the seduction business - to that of modern day filth - in the style of Roald Dahl's revolting rhymes. Heaven knows what folks will make of it. I've been told that folks don't like people posting long things, so I'll probably get something about that. I have divided it into three parts though (haven't done the third bit ran out of steam). I spent ages on it, most of the night. Tried to do it serious like, proper, even checked punctuation and things. To be fair the poetry board people are well sound. You always get a comment even if you've written crap, which I have in past. It is my fourth poem. If only the sci fi board was so well visited.
Anyways today I have -
- found out Dither likes crime books, originally the blog was just for me, but now there are two of us that read it I was wondering if I should add content to keep him onside, relate some casual criminality that goes on round here. He is after after all half of the audience. (stolen wheelbarrow any good Dither? Plenty more where that came from).
- played some computer games
- played cricket out back
- had a curry
- turned the pages for Mark whilst he practises
That's all from me today, all the best P