Various statements (both true and false) about myself (to be pronounced MEself)

_

Hot tough chick riding BMX in Glasgow

is looking for someone

to share taramasalata and vulnerability.

Sweet babe with a harelip and a broken pinkie

is seeking validation

from Irish losers with commitment issues.

Wee lassie with strong foreign accent

wearing tiger printed fleece

is ready to be emotionally detached, standoffish and sober.

Little forlorn fairy

wants to stop pretending

that eating a full bag of honey coated peanuts

is not to fill a gap,

and actually fill the gap.

Half savage half sensitive bird

is willing to talk about stand up comedy and Soviet literature

(Russian speaker is a must, comedian not so much).

« If we happen to be walking along a street at night, and a man, visible already from afar – because the street inclines gently uphill in front of us, and there’s a full moon – comes running towards us, then we will not grab hold of him, even if he’s feeble and ragged, even if someone is running after him, yelling, but rather we will let him run on unmolested.

For it is night, and it is not our fault that the street in front of us in the moonlit night is on an incline and, moreover, it is possible that the two men have devised their chase for their own amusement, perhaps they are both in pursuit of a third man, perhaps the first of them is being unjustly pursued, perhaps the second means to kill him and we would become accessory to his murder, perhaps the two of them don’t know the first thing about one another and each one is just running home to bed on his own account, perhaps they are two somnambulists, perhaps the first of them is carrying a weapon.

And finally, may we not be tired, and have we not had a lot of wine to drink? We are relieved not to see the second man. » 

The men running pas, Franz Kafka

Don’t settle for the waiting list

If Christmas has been cancelled

and the tree thrown away,

all the doors remain closed from Manchester

to the Loire Valley but,

the wine keep flowing somehow.

Gamay, wild game and too many games,

this is how we lose track and hit bottom

or a parked car after a boozy night.

You thought you were going first on that ride but,

you ended up on the waiting list somehow.

A night like no other

Lactose free Baileys and sparkling Gamay

A caring French nurse working on Christmas Day

No number to dial when you look at your phone

except 111 and your ex boyfriend’s one 

The only space where you feel safe

are the empty corridors of the hospital

in the middle of the night

Sometimes it feels like the foxes would devour you

if you were lying on the ground,

unconscious

Sniffing your legs and licking the blood on your face

until you wake up 

When life is a disaster, and there is nowhere to go

don’t jump on your bike like a reckless idiot 

or life will teach you a lesson 

There is nowhere to go

except in your own mind 

when you become blind

What I’ve learnt from a 3/10 rated week

_

If the man is wearing crocs 

and running after the thief

Don’t throw a bottle of pricey wine 

or he won’t catch him

_

If your nan died 

and there is mist in your head

Lock your bike to the lamp post 

or they’ll take it

_

If your ceiling is collapsing

because of the shower leaking

Don’t sit on the toilet

or you might be knocked out

_

If the Greek gods get mad at you

shaking your world 

as much as a man can do 

with a printer not working

Just breathe, 

the week is gone

I called myself goofy and that ruined my week.

You know how sometimes a tiny event triggers you more than a pandemic. Because you’re meant to survive a pandemic as well as a virus is meant to survive through the living beings. Otherwise it disappears with the dead and it’s not his primary function. I was saying, a tiny event, like a bowl breaking in your hands with no apparent reason or when you can’t recognise if the wine is mousy or simply farmy. Even the Sunday margaritas are frozen and there is no garnish to keep company to the one ice cube only that you put in the glasses. You feel you’re swimming against the current, not aware that you’re the one who chose the wrong direction. As the water is flowing anyway you should be floating like a buoy, not trying to push away the waves. You feel you’re playing with your team but you end up being offside all the time and you can’t score or even if you do it doesn’t count. You’re not meant to survive a tiny event, because this is not a matter of Life and Death. You’re meant to step back from the unpleasant situation that you call your existence and change your perspective on it. Look at it upside down as a hanging woman and stop loathing everyone and everything around you. When your head is where your feet should be, you realise that nothing really matters, especially this song’s title or the anagram of discounted. You couldn’t care less about the first prize because you know there is nothing to win or lose on Earth. Whatever if you think we’re just a group of cells or if mercury retrograde does affect the tide and the course of our lives. But believe me it does, so don’t call yourself goofy, even if you struggle and grunt, someone might do it for you already.

Based on a conversation between friends involving lots of tasty wine

on Friday the 18th of September at 12.38am and some other stuff

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Two crocs and one cock

The fox is chewing the bike lock

Peachy sours and ultimate ghosting

This is now what the lads are doing

Giant broom and sad smiley faces

Glittery stickers on our glasses

Smashing cinsault by the Med

This is what the ginger boy said

It isn’t love until it passed

Where did I read that?

Fuck knows