Tuesday, 18 May 2010


The hungry boys do not understand that no matter how hard they kiss or fuck or punch, I will always be more hungry. Their hands shape into fists which are sometimes friendly and sometimes dangerous; but I am far more dangerous. The boys do not understand that if I invite them in and lay down beneath them, I am always somewhat bored, regardless of how vehemently I feign a gasp or a groan. They do not understand this because they have been brought up to seek blind, aggressive ownership of everything. The secret is that I was raised that way too. This town and these hands are as much mine as they are theirs.

Wednesday, 12 May 2010


the trouble with morality is that it is a target, not a possession. nobody can truly declare an action moral or immoral. one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter. we are all dogs and we are all deviants - any comment to the contrary is bullshit. immorality SINGS through the retail outlets, avenues, car parks and industrial estates that piece together my suburban town. there is vomit on the pavements, tramps in the street, and blood (once or twice) on my hands. it is easy to confess a sin and continue sinning: to disregard self-reflection in favour of further hedonism. whatever your vice is - cigarettes, reality TV, cocaine - it is keeping you breathing and helping you to survive. there is no long term when it comes to addiction: the hunger claws at each second, whilst the future sits, aloof and unhelpful, in the distance. in daylight we are our own judge - the pasty face in the mirror, the crack in your voice, the necessities of stomachs, bladders, bowels; but by night we succumb - and we succeed in succumbing, our hands tied and bound by alcohol, short skirts, and mediocre music - where the lights flash, the voices heckle, and up above the stars twinkle, forgotten. at night, it is our own special campaign, our own british death; the rules twist and flex beneath the lens of liquor. by night, we vindicate our same sins that we compress and regret when they are unearthed by the unforgiving light of a new day.