Sunday, August 17, 2003

Newspaper, cigarettes, packet of crisps – and the big rifle with the night scope, please…

Basically it’s about putting myself back together gain. I’ve spent the last ten years doing it. Ever since my relationship broke up – she wanted a family I wanted to be an artiste
She had a family.
I gave up art.
Then I was in this group of artists, and we had a gallery, and things looked fine we had a good thing going, but then it turns out this guy who’s like the guy who started it and all
is crazy.
But then there’s already exhibitions and you’ve put money into it, and more money, and they start calling from really important museums, and this guy just gets more crazy and he starts dating two girls at the same time, end they go along with it and he sets himself up like some kind of cult leader, and then you realise that in fact he IS a cult leader, and you’re in his cult, and everybody works sixteen hours a day, and it’s his name on all the contracts and leases and whatever and he acts out and he sleeps with two girls at a time and somebody’s girlfriend who’s studying to become a psychiatrist says he’s showing clear symptoms of being a psychopath,
And he is.
And you go along with it. And you betray people, and they betray you, and in the end it's ONLY ambition, and power and greed and betrayal.
And now you know how the world goes round.
Because they all came from fine families.
And you get out of it.
And you suffer from post-traumatic stress
And nobody believes THAT
And you go home to your parents because all your friends gave up on you because you spend too much time with the art-group and told them that this was really it.
And you go home to your parents and you cry a lot and you scare them because they are getting on in years and really don’t know what to say, and you’ve always been a strange kid, so maybe they’ve just run out of love.
And you go back, and you get yourself into more trouble with other people, and there's more embarrassment in front of your parents, because you’ve lost your friends because these new people are REALLY it, but these people like to do drugs.
and the drugs like to do them.
and you end up in a real white-thrash-abusive-looser-nightmare.
And you pull out of that too. And your old dad has to call people, because you can’t, and he’s steel and you love him
But you know. That’s where HE lost faith.
In you.
And you sit down and do NOTHING for three or four months, and you start seeing your friends again, and you start getting it together again, and you finish your education, and you get a job and you’re never going to make art again because you’ve lost faith in humanity, and your never going to love again because you’ve lost faith in that too. And you even start to make art again, and you've even learned, and these people are nice and it's almost coming back to you again but you can't forget. Just can't forget.
And you’re bitter.
And you’re lost
And you’re a sad old git.
And you go to work
And you go home and sit at the kitchen table and wonder where the last ten years of your life went
And you look out the window
Where it’s dark.
But you haven’t packed it in yet.
Because you still want it
Want it
Want it
Want it sooooooooooo much.


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