Thu, Dec. 20th, 2007, 01:11 pm
Tomorrow I'm taking the train back to London. Nathan, if you can just leave the keys to Dan's place under a mat or something, I'll pick them up.
Naboo, Vince, Howard, Bollo... let me know when the flat will be empty so I can come round and get my things.
Mon, Sep. 3rd, 2007, 12:11 am
About this time last year, give or take a week or so, I paid Naboo to wipe a memory out of my mind. I shouldn't remember paying him to do this, and I don't, not really, I just know that it did happen.
There's a lot of things that have happened to me in my life that I wish I could forget. It's got to be the same for most people, doesn't it? But typically we can't forget them and we just have to go on anyway. So it goes.
I wouldn't have thought myself the sort of person who would prefer to have something excised than to bear it out. And I know you mean well, Naboo, but when you tell me there are things better left forgotten I can't help but want to know that much more. What could have happened that I would want to forget it forever and ever? That seems so... cowardly.
Now I just.. What if the me that I remember from ten years ago, twenty years ago - what if she's not real? Terrifying thoughts like these keep coming to me now and I feel as if I'm going a bit mental. I need to know, see. I need to know what it was I forgot. So if anyone knows, or has even the tiniest idea, please please tell me.
Thu, Aug. 16th, 2007, 08:02 am
I'm on the train back.
I'm no good at a funeral. Or not my own father's anyway, and I've decided not to stay the rest of the week. Dan offered to instead, which makes for a nice change.
The phone rang and I knew, I knew didn't I? I saw him just a few months ago, how bad he was, and it was almost a relief, the way it's a relief to know that something awful is coming and that you have to get it over with no matter what. It wasn't until I saw Mum that I fell apart. She was so sad, and lost, and she married him when she was just 19, god, that's just a fucking baby, over two-thirds of her life was spent with him and now what? Maybe it's better just to be alone and to be ready for alone-ness, forever.
And then more people showed up, Aunts and Uncles and cousins and people Dad worked with and neighbours and tell me this, why don't people just feel what they feel instead of hiding everything? And why do they say things that are a complete lie like "he's in a better place now?" I don't want people to tell me lies to make me feel better, they just make me feel worse. And who fucking cares if I screamed at Auntie Tillie? Can't I fucking scream at someone if I want to? Especially when they say something like that? I will never understand people. I will never understand why they don't do what they want to, now, while they're all alive. On his last night on earth Dad watched snooker on the telly and had a bath.
And...that's that. Now I'm pretty much back to feeling nothing.
Wed, Jul. 25th, 2007, 10:09 am
Would anyone mind terribly if I started filming a them? The non-normal thems, I mean, such as the shamen, the vampires, the merpeople, the mowglis, the Mr Harrisons, the familiars, the men with an unusual number of body parts...I'm probably forgetting someone.
What I mean to say is that I've been developing a new idea for a documentary film that would focus on the lives of the "magical" people, for lack of a better word - basically anyone who, a year ago, I would have assumed only lived and existed in fiction.
So I just wanted to get out my camera and see what kind of footage I could get around here, first, and then after that maybe, I don't know - can I sit in on a meeting of the Board of Shamen? Is that allowed? Is that man with the feathers in charge?
Bikinus Festivus was fun - it was sort of like inviting everyone we know over, plus some people that we don't. Dajve's friends and followers, I guess. They seemed alright. I talked to one of her cameramen for a while - boring tech stuff, mostly, but it did remind me that I used to really like filming.
I don't know why I'm using the past tense. There's no reason I wouldn't still like filming, but I have these oddly negative feelings attached to it that I can't really identify. Maybe it's because I put so much time and effort into London Undone and Done In and nothing ever came of it. I could probably still release it as some kind of lower-brow comedy but I just couldn't do that to those people. Being a junkie's enough stress for them, I'm sure.
It's just that when I got into film-making, it was for these very idealistic and, I'll admit now, naive reasons. I thought I could capture the experience of the British underclass, make visible the unseen populous. Sort of self-righteous of me, really. It's probably a bad idea all 'round to approach a film with the intent to change the world. The world's too big and one person with a camera's too small. Especially when that person's not too far from being a part of Britain's underclass themselves.
I'm typing this in from under the kitchen table. Seems I passed out here, but it's alright because a 400-or-so-year-old shaman gave me a cushion and put a blanket over me. Vince is at the sink filling the kettle and telling me about his friend Mr Rogers, the snake. You know, I used to think that was some kind of metaphor, Vince talking to animals, but he really can talk to them. And Bollo, Naboo's familiar?, he just talks. And deejays. I don't know why I'm telling this to you - you, whoever you are - already know. But one year ago, I had no idea that there were shamen from Xooberon, or people who can talk to animals, or green transsexual mermen, or shamen with pink-tentacle heads, or priests who used to have doors in their heads. I had no idea and now... now I live with them. And I think I'm going to stay. Naboo's offered me my own room, so why shouldn't I? I've been giving it thought all week and I can't see why I shouldn't stay. My new job is going well and I can afford the rent. It's just too good to wake up every day and know that the world and the people in it can still surprise you.
I'm rambling on, I know.
Dajve Bikinus gave me some kind of gift bag. Did she think it was my birthday? My birthday's not until February. Anyway, there's a very fancy-looking (I think?) vibrator in it. I just turned it on (just to see if it worked!) and it actually shook the floorboards and made Vince nearly drop his tea. I don't understand (I mean, yeah, I understand how it works, okay?). Did everyone get sex toys? I've also got a free visit to a fancy day spa. What happens at one or those? Sounds suspiciously posh.
Mon, Jun. 18th, 2007, 03:43 pm
Today I ventured out in daylight, though carefully concealed with Vince's enormous hat and sunglasses, plus one of Naboo's robes that Vince cleverly tailored to look like a very spinster-ish sort of dress. Except it's bright red and blue. Anyway, I wanted to pick up a few things... a book, cigarettes, some actual food with vitamins, oh, and some berocca. I decided I'd try going out as a social experiment, only without the camera this time.
The responses and looks from people were interesting. From men I got mostly what I expected, but from women... the expressions of distaste, of possessiveness. The angry, warning looks they gave to whatever man they were with...
I felt small.
Yes, it is sort of funny, considering the meaning of 'small.' I'm back at home now and I reckon that's what I'm calling Naboo's flat now, home. I don't know how long it will be called that, but for now, it'll do.
Wed, Jun. 13th, 2007, 10:41 am
Naboo! Naboo... why don't you have a last name so I can chastise you properly? You were joking when you said you had a potion to "beef me up,"
right? Though that's bad if you were just joking because it means I've gone all deformed. Either some things -- two
things -- are suddenly much larger than they ought to be or the rest of my body has shrunk. Given that none of my tops barely fit I think it's not that. What's happened? Is this part of the come down or did one of the lads put something in my tea? If this is meant to be funny it's really not.
Oh, but this is no fucking good! I've got to go round that Moll place and fill out an application today, and I'll have to borrow one of the shirts Howard left behind just to make myself look human. And Howard's shirts smell a little odd, like turnips and paste. Also, my back is starting to hurt. I'm supposed to look after Jones tonight but I might be crippled by then myself.
Somebody fix me.
I want a cigarette, I want a cigarette, I want a cigarette.
Seriously, Yeah?, haven't you got any hidden away around here? Amanda's practically in a coma from the sounds of the snores, so I don't think she'll try to snatch it out of my mouth. What was this girl into before she got sprogged up? Because I caught her trying to pry open a window about seven hours ago, and she was wearing a party dress that doesn't really fit her anymore. Then she tried to tell me she was just polishing the glass even though it was obvious she was trying to bugger off. Odd American lady.
Fuck, cigarette. I'm so tired.
Oh oh, Naboo, okay, let me tell you what happened on Hollyoaks after you left for Prague. Oh wait, no, Bollo and I had decided we were going to act it out for you. But yeah, Craig is completely using John Paul. Either that or it's bad news for poor, poor Sarah.
Okay, good. That wasted a little bit of time. One of Yeah?'s underlings should be in soon and I can go back to Dalston and finally get some sleep.
Sleeping during the day is a bit of a new experience but I've adjusted to it much faster than I would have expected.
Tue, Jun. 5th, 2007, 05:39 pm
Back in London.
Naboo picked me up (mostly) on time. We carpeted. I didn't heave over the side. Now we're back over the Nabootique and Bollo has made me tea and he's brushing my hair. I think that's what he's doing, anyway.
I called Phil and there's no work for me at the Nailgun. I was gone too long and he had to get someone in there. Well, I though that might be the case.
I don't know what I'm doing. I guess I'll sleep here tonight. There's lots of people so at least that will keep me from thinking too much. But there's probably too many people for me to stay for very long.
Trying to block out second thoughts, here, but...
I showed Mum Nathan's feedleash post and told her a friend had been roofied by gypsies (sorry Naboo) and that I had better get back to London to see that he's alright.
I feel a bit low, exploiting my do-gooder reputation like this, but it's been over a month and people are trying to marry me off to Mrs Lawndale's son, who's an actual preacher and ugh, I'm so tired of people talking about Leeds United and Ken Bates.
Anyway, I'm taking the coach tomorrow morning and should be at Victoria station by noon. Wouldn't say no to someone meeting me there, otherwise I guess I'll find my way to the new place on my own.
And then I need to see if I still have a job.