back in the terrible winter like conditions of summer in london, where the undead wander the streets looking for heat, i'm one of them now, brain dead and quietly shocked. through the crowds we navigate, the family unit, falling up and down, like some strange novel on a dysfunctional family with no salvation, only a bleak humour as we potter about unable to communicate or interact effectively,
the cold bitter wind eroding my body heat, which if you don't know is a sun like mass of energy, i generate enormous amounts of solar flares and people are always somewhat freaked when they feel my skin, just like a hot oven, a furnace burns within my cells, energy cannot be destroyed but in the terrible fucking alien landscape of london it certainly gets reduced.
we shuffle into the house and i am hit by a terrible stench, the rotting smell of cabbages infested with decay. our fridge and freezer is kaput.
there's a pile of mail on the floor, carpeting the entrance, it's incredible, more mail than i get in one year.
i do some shuffling with the cars, organise a few clean ups, then i retire into the confines of a tiny room, where i read about half of robin shepard's book 'a state beyond the pale.'
you non believer, you doubter, you ignorant intellectual, you who cast the eye of judgement through your left wing humanistic mindset, are you as free as you think?
read the book and set your self free