girls i love, there has to be more than one. (wated version)

[mccutcheon]

Me ears are ringing. Spiritualized tonight. And I was fucked. Late night footie game last night lead to a session down the pub because we won in the last minute and then today was a tennis tournament, which I won. Then back on the piss and a few pills. Can't write too much because I've switched from uppers to downers and am drinking this piss called ICE, which does the job but never comes close to satisfaction on the taste buds. So be it. I've hooked up the Kin McCutcheon's Coxon U-On Eclectic Downbeat Sound System and am playing tunes all alone and naked. I think of all the girls who mean so much to me—Tara I think of you-always, Julia I think of you too much for my own good—but it makes the Spiritualized music sound better, Brooke, who I never even meet and we have these emails and drunken long distance phone calls, and Christie with the band, Holly with the poetry, Marisa who says I'm an old married guy, and then there is me…..all alone and it's what it is. People think of Pax Acidus as shite boys not thinking. Not the case. Tonight I'm listening to belle & Sebastian (red album) and thinking of all the girls who have some meaning in my life. I haven't spread myself too thin….it's just that Tara and Julia are the ones who always stick in my mind. Where does that leave us, or me an aging bloke too into arts and not finance. It's very easy to see I'm going to be made redundant soon, as far as life goes. Tara you were the biggest Pax Acidus fan, even if you did go and snog The Sloth. I just want you bake alive. That look, that smile, the way we made love, the head you gave, the mind trip, the hours in the cabin, us getting busted having sex at the campground. That's enough of this. I love the Sloan family very much in my own way. It ‘s the way it has to be. And baby love Julia, so much to me, Tara forever, even though we were destined to be best friends instead of lovers, even though we would give each other favors.
I've been a jealous cunt, and I have been a true lover. I hope my feelings and actions can make a difference. Tonight Tara I only think of you. I can never believe you are gone. In my heart you are there. Kiss you talented sexy baby. I fell you will read this. A love letter to you. What can I do? At met moment I think about our time and love making and you never talking to me again. I cry. You are worth every tear. And must live on and thin of other girls. You know how I get. Love you forever, my Tara.

[mccutcheon]

This is all a bit embarrassing. I didn't even post it under the right section. Spiritualized will do that to you. Great show though. I'm going back to bed.

[mccutcheon]

Well it's been one of those days lost in space. I'm just now back into the swing of things and gettin' the groove on. A chemical cocktail reaction is sorting out my psyche. It's all I have when I actually need a good meal and some sober sleep. But what can you do? I've spent all my cash. ‘Rock and roll is killing my life.' That's a Sonic Boom reference for the less informed. And that's where I'm headed, to see Sonic who is promising to play Spacemen 3 tracks. I'm sure he will stick to the ones he wrote. Which is good enough. Hopefully when I get home tonight I won't go on the B.B.-- though I bet I will, but I hope I won't make an ass of myself this time.

Today I wrote like a motherfucker. 4 hours on the novel, and started a new short story called ‘Smut-N-Eggs' (only the Sloth knows about that title, an inside joke, when we partied with Garbage in Wisconsin and then around five in the morning we did a runner after a car accident, we weren't driving, it was chauffeured, with omelets, porn, booze and cocaine in our veins- actually we skipped the eggs. There is even a picture of that night up under Images.) In the story I'll have to use Midwest techno pop band with a ginger haired female Scottish singer with a dirty mouth- so no one knows what I'm writing about.

Also I was so hot and bothered and slightly stoned and feeling oh so sexy and alone this morning I wrote a poem called ‘Masturbation is a Beautiful Thing'. Though as a fiction writer I must confess it doesn't come from personal experience.

Love long distance to the ones who care. I'm off.