I did not feel a part of humanity. There was no pride or sadness to the statement, it was just how I felt, or should I say, did not feel. To me, it was all just poetry, and I know, I’m a character who will stay on the page as the pen keeps going.
Within the heart of a dying man is a rave, full of retards dancing on the sand, not knowing that they’re dancing to the defibrillator.
Eventually the doctor says in a muffled distance, “He isn’t coming back.”
Look what the world did to us, look what is has done to me, bright lights and asses to remind you you’re alive, slobbering dog chasing tennis balls. If it wasn’t for desire, you wouldn’t get out of bed. I am at the full moon party in Koh Phangan mingling horribly with the bass that rattles through my body, urging my heart to give in.
I walk into a restaurant to try and find peace and I sit down. Things are only getting worse now and I am stuck. I can tell the name of the shoe that left a print behind in the sand. I look down and see my feet within a restaurant, within walls, very fancy and the floor is sand, the floor is beach, it was very psychedelic, very confronting.
“What is this?” asked a voice.
“I don’t know, the floor is sand, who are you?”
“Qloppy” replied the voice. “You created me just now to help your mind understand to be able to calm the body.”
“Cool,” I replied to Qloppy.
I ordered a glass of shiraz and the bruschetta. The red wine was cold.
A girl said, “Hello.”
“I'm sorry, I don’t think I can bring anyone else into this right now,” I reply.
Every time I speak it’s a role of the dice. I asked for the bill before the bruschetta came out, one less thing to worry about. When it came I concentrated.
“What are these?” asked Qloppy.
“They are tomatoes.”
“They are very delicious.”
“I agree.”
“What is that vibration in your ribcage?” asked Qloppy.
“Music.”
“What for?”
“The full moon.”
“Where is it?”
“Outside.”
I wrote that down.
“Why do you write things down?” asked Qloppy.
“Because I am a writer.”
“Why?”
“Have to do something.”
“You make money from it?” he asked.
“No,” I replied.
I watched two people, they did not know what they wanted. Walking half a step in every direction. I waited for them to know what they wanted, another person watched me, watching them, we were all waiting to find out what we wanted.
My legs walked and I went with them back onto the battlefield. The scene is quite surreal and made me realise we will always have war. The youth crave it. I crave it. The loud beat on the shore. The crowd. The colours. The lights. The fire. The alcohol. The sex. The immortality. The unknown. The chaos. Men walk past and ask me if I want ecstasy, then the next if I want cocaine. I say, “No, I think I should deal with what I have already.”
I did not feel a part of humanity. There was no pride or sadness to the statement, it was just how I felt, or should I say, did not feel. To me, it was all just poetry, and I know, I’m a character who will stay on the page as the pen keeps going. Well, there’s the truth, this is what I think, this is what I will always think, and goodbye to the pen, I will stay here now, as the same three-part act plays on repeat.
A character once asked me if he can have a dog on his page, and I said, “Okay.”
This all made sense to everyone, that made me happy at least. I do not want to be a person who tells you what to be afraid of, rather be there for you when you are afraid and say, “That’s okay.”
I walked up and down the beach, showing Qloppy everything. The first time I felt human was when I saw an Asian with a perfect ass and great tits, when I saw her face I realised she was a boy. Artificial sweetness.
“That’s a boy” I told Qloppy.
“Where is his dick?”
“In the bin.”
Then later I said, “The surgeons dog ate it.”
But it wasn’t funny cause it was too late.
I walked to a patch of silence, on the brink of the chaos. It was a truth of mine, to always be a little away from the action. So, when those either defeated or triumphant would walk to a different understanding, they would sit next to me, for help or to help, whatever the difference.
How sad, I am a medic on the edge of a battlefield, hungry for a soul.
My mind, instantly corrupted by the beauty of my phone. It has replaced the moon. Now she sits, hiding, like a sad grandmother in her room, all dressed up. They come here for her and the party started without her, and it could end without her.
If only they knew her power,
I put all my characteristics into her,
I tell her I am on her side, but we are all in this together as far as she can see,
Then again——— She is nothing but minerals.
Aren’t we all?
She stays calm, hiding her beauty, now I miss out too, without a home to go to, and no one to go nowhere with.
A dog walks up to me, a dog always finds me.
“Qloppy?” I say to the dog.
“What?” replies Qloppy in my mind.
“Oh nothing.”
“Did you think I was the dog and it would be able to talk to you?”
“Possibly.”
“That is crazy,” said Qloppy.
“Yeah.”
The tide was coming in on all of us, the moon wanted her attention. I don’t know if the clouds represented our ignorance or her insecurity. Or if they were just water seeing what it’s like to fly.
The party went on like bombs on villages. I sat with Qloppy, the dog and the moon.
I said to the moon, “Don’t worry about them, you created all of this.”
She replied, “Would you fuck me?”
I said, “Well, its hard to imagine because of the logistics, but how about this, if you show yourself in the form of a human, I will make love to you tonight.”
I don’t know what’s happened, or what’s going to happen, but right now this dog is having the best sleep of his life. You can make of it whatever you want, but I loved a domesticated loving dog. I wanted to get another drink but didn’t want my dog to be alone and leave me, I was stuck between my two greatest loves. I wish someone would pat me the way I pat this dog. Dog.
A girl sat beside me.
“Do you want to be a character in this story?” I asked.
“What’s youuuuur name?” she replied in the most annoying manner.
It took 15 minutes of clear disdain before she waddled off on to someone else. You get to that age that you think maybe you’re here to help someone rather than fuck someone. I’m a prisoner to my innocence and a slave to its rebellion. I sat and drank beers.
The moon asked me, “What would you rather, heaven or hell?”
“The truth is,” I said to the moon, “the further I am away from the choice, the more I feel at peace. I would like to walk between both.”
She said, “That’s what earth is earthling. You have to pick one.”
“Ok, I pick hell.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s less pressure.”
“Then there you have it, the conundrum of man.”
There’s a wisdom that tells you, no matter what you do or think, this is all going to keep going. Then that wisdom just stops and leaves, and you’re left thinking, ‘Well?’
A giant sign that read, ‘Full moon party, Thailand, 2023,’ went up in flames. I sat on the edge of the beach and the words to me were backwards. Through the flames I could see the light and heat on the faces that watch the fire. I was on the other side of life. Eventually the sign would burn and two halves became one.
A man with a flowerpot on his head walks past, whilst I was thinking about the family of three that never happened, that I never fathered, and he says, “What are you looking at?”
And I reply, “Your guess is as good as mine.”
I said to Qloppy. “This is such a good story, I hope I don’t ruin it.”
Qloppy said, “Just say what happened.”
‘Don’t steal any joy from it yet, it’s not written,’ I thought to myself. Then Qloppy reminded me about time; that you can feel whatever you want whenever you want.
A fat couple sat near me. The darkness was a place to hide and with the alcohol even these two lumps felt invisible. I looked and the guy was fingering her. Her lips full of lard facing the stars with her eyes closed. Like a big fat howling woof. Her moans vibrated into my innocent ears.
I tickled the dogs left front paw and he tried to bite me. As I wrote that a man almost walked over me. I wondered, without standing up for myself, do I exist?
Anywho, the dog I grew to love and painted in the picture of mine that was now dead, saw me as a mere fool. Two stray dogs with no ability to appreciate the past. Whatever. Off I go. Broken and sentimental.
I spoke to Jesus, he said, “Forgive him, you have the consciousness of god within you to do so.”
So I did. I looked in the eyes of the world and could see myself.
There's me.
There's me.
There's me.
At a different time in the same place.
To go home and pull myself off became the most noble thing a man could do.
Jesus, what a world we live in, to be noble and get no pussy. No wonder the fags did it first, gods salt. Maybe I will get pussy in my old age, as a sick joke, the one time I didn’t want it.
And when did you know it was time to go home?
When I wanted to kick everyone in the chin.
Later I walked and found the dog, asleep on the sand. I pet him. He didn’t do anything; that was everything.
When I got home, I said, “Are you there Qloppy?”
He didn’t reply, and I went to sleep.
The moon may have found the form of the woman, but she did not find me.
