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And He Spoke

And today it all ends cos today is the beginning of tomorrow

he said. With the most serious look on his face.

Oh so serious.

Dead serious.

He didn't just say it. He believed it.

Which made this day just a little more special than usual.

This was the Lord's Day.

The hollow day of hunger and silence and solitude and emptiness and television.

Don't watch TV on the Lord's Day? There's no ads on the Lord's Day.

The point is that you watch and watch and watch without getting up in the ads.

This is the day we hollow out your brain with familiar propaganda,

successfully rating year after year.

And because I believe,

he argued. Everything else is contrary and therefore dangerous

and you all are in great danger from the wolf and the woman

whose number is 666. She comes and she brings with her bureaucracy.

And she brings global violence deep within her Scorpio Woman's heart.

And when we are left in these neighbourhoods with no light and no sound and no electricity

no movement but by foot

we learn to what – rebuild our mansion? or fall into the abyss of time and arise in Christ Our Saviour


The final word drifted from his lips like a whisper and yet covered the room in its heavy cool silence.

Tomorrow it will not be daylight. This collective myth will kill you.

This nighttime is forever, daytime a myth. Look around you, you see only darkness.

You see no light because there is no light.

The footpath melted beneath his feet.

His words clung to the air and clattered around inside the skulls of the people walking in the streets.

Their bags were too heavy to concentrate.

But as their sweaty foreheads waited for the lights to change

their lives stayed the same.

Nobody noticed as the future became the past and the past became the legends and the legends became the religions and the future was so terrifying.

It's Tomorrow today and I don't know who I am anymore.

Last night I was Him and now, of course, I'm Me. By midday I have found out who I am, yet by then I have plans and obligations

or guilt takes over and I know there's something I should be doing until my brain collapses and the Illicit Mexican Relaxation Herb twinkles in my lungs and sends special oxygen to my heart who makes some special blood to send around my body and thus the effects of the Herb are successful in suppressing the outward symptoms of the problem my body presents me with.

What night of what lifetime did you choose the task of sitting at a laptop with a sore back stoned and pointless a hotel receptionist in a blue dressing gown writing poetry on a $3000 laptop brought with the money your eternally emptyhanded mother left you after her spirit went up to Heaven to great fanfair from all the angels and God Himself as she flew, winged, through the Pearly Gates into the Wonderful Land of Oz?

Oh this existence taunts us all my friends and yet the face that breathes incomprehensible instructions into our ears is not a machine, it is Us and Them. And they're both double-crossing us.

Through the use of words, the dragon-headed guru instructed once again,

And don't ever let me find you with your gun in your hand.

Your gun is a sacred item, sawn off in worship of Me.

Yes, the language is capital letter in every reference to Me.

And one day I will tell you that all is well and the worry was unnecessary,

I wanted to speed up your progression, I was getting bored waiting for you.

I too suffer from mental illness such as impatience.

Even I, who always warrant a capital letter, has desires and fears.

Like any sad dictator I deny you what was denied to me.

I rape your women and crucify their sons.

Nothing will stop me.

And then the voice went away and I shuddered as if all I wanted was to know the truth. But I have known the disappointments of little truths,

I cannot know the devastation of the Whole Truth and Nothing But the Truth.

So fingers glide and the words trickle our like a dribble down my chin and onto my chest.

So quickly it fades and I am left with a sore back and a brand new file on my laptop. That $3000 laptop that I bought with cash and now there is negative two thousand deficit in my account and this means I am stuck in this country and there is no way I can leave until I finally do a bit of work and they laugh in my face and say “I knew we'd fuckin get you in the end faggot. You think you can get away with not working in this fuckin community? It's not about money, buddy, there's plenty of that going around. What I care about is the selling of your soul. Souls are all but banned if you insist on flaunting yours like some sort of exhibitionist penis act...”

And again the words faded off into silence and the sore back came back and his fingers continued to type.

And they say Nature Calls as he wandered to the toilet not first forgetting to save the file in case his computer crashed or got stolen.

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