Exhausted Stumblings, Confused Salt Crystals

Papers, Stories

I’ve been away too long. I’ve got to get back on the metaphorical horse.

I haven’t done a huge amount of writing except that I started a little freak page on Facebook that I’ve also temporarily abandoned. As ever, more is incoming – with poetry etc too. I actually really want to do some journalism. Like proper journalism. I don’t even know what that is – proper journalism – but I want to do it. Anyhow, facebook freak page:

It began with a picture.

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And then another one.

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Caption: “There is also a Nipple in the bottom left corner, but this is something you must not notice, for it is not strange and not unusual. Nipples are everywhere. Like foot cream.”

And this of course inevitably led to an opening story, with picture.

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“Hello. I am not a strange crystal, but this is what some people think when they meet me. They say that I become involved in hair and sweat and unholy things. None of this is true. My tip is coated in a thin watery discharge and then thrust up into the darkness of the underarm, wherein no other crystal can see, and so I am a clean and healthy and normal individual. This is my work. I am determined and conscientious. Amethyst understands. Rock salt used to understand because he was young, but now he is old.

Here is the body part of Elliot Gould. The arrow marks it. Can you tell? It is moustache. There are other pictures of Elliot Gould, but this one is from listal.com. It was added exactly three years before I was born, by a nice man called Leo. Perhaps it was his birthday too? He is green. I like him and Mr Moustache.”

There are other segments. Maybe it’ll become a book? Who can tell.

Here’s the second story. I want to give you a sense that there’s some character development going on in this series before I leave you hanging.

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“I do not like advertising. It tells the flesh folk that what we do is sensual and filthy. It shows us rubbing our tips into the hairs and the salty sweats and their small, small crystals. It is wrong and disgusting. When I come away with a hair in my mouth, all the others say “you have been advertising again, you have, you have” and they laugh and raise their lids up and down. I say nothing to them. Amythest tells me that when she was young they would all look at her. She would try to crawl away deep inside, but she could not move and her lattices shone with words I could not understand.

This is Sean Connery from a post on theredlist.com. They made a very good post and their section on Furniture Design agrees politely with curves. I have actually seen it shake hands with the curves, but do not tell anyone. Sean Connery is like goo and cotton wool on fire. A rude man, a smart man, but I like his pretty face. Here he wears a hat.”

I really love exploring weirdness. A long time ago, I thought well fuck it: I’m only going to live as me once. After that I don’t know. I might as well try and experience as much as possible, from as many different perspectives as possible. Now that’s not what I’m doing with the Crystal thing, but that kind of thinking did inspire me to try and write something kinda stupid but also kinda pointy. Pointy like meaningful, almost disturbing but clearly non-threatening. A spike of odd you can investigate or leave well alone.

Finally (for now) a third post:

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“Today I went into the cupboard behind the mirror. Next to me was the shampoo bottle that is called ‘Aussie.’ He is from a place called Australia which the others tell is the deadliest place in the world. It has good caves. Aussie is glad to be away from there because now he can go into hair and ‘lather snuzzle’. The others say Aussie is a pervert. However, I know that he is shampoo. He may have a very dirty job, but he does this job quite well, with fine smells. Sometimes, if the fleshy one has been messy and not put back the lid, Aussie lets me go close and sniff his sticky cream.

Here is a kiwi fruit. It does not have hair, it has skins with fuzz. I like it both for texture and occasional self-pollination. Kiwi fruit are like flavour eggs – this is what the fleshy ones say. Sometimes the flesh eat out the green and suck the core. They are not wrong, but strange. Some claim the kiwi in the north of this picture is actually an hedgehog egg. They are liars.”

Check out the Facebook page that also got me working along these lines: https://www.facebook.com/welcometomymemepage/

(there was a frankly amazing tumblr called something like “littlebird” with illustrations of monster-freak-feathereds but I can’t find it anymore. The writing style in the captions though…beautifully weird)

Don’t worry this isn’t the order of business from now on. I just don’t have anything else publishable to hand. Will write/edit something tonight though.

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