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The Pinpoint explored

January 22nd, 2011

Yeah, it happened just like that. On a weeklong drunk we do obscure and sometimes frightening things. That warm feeling when the bile comes is your get-out clause but fuck! There’s more anger and pissing in alleyways to be had by the bottle-soldier. I think about the girl who lives in Bristol now and hoist the flag for simpering, mute-stricken alchos worldwide.

Every tile on this floor has nothing to say to help and I run over the idea of smashing them. Not satisfied. Pissed. That sting when you poke a coal-stained finger in a dirty wound. C’mon, clap and make like the ‘70s. We have Grand Funk Railroad and the knowledge that finches only want to hang around us when the ground is frozen. People in airports know this.

On a tuesday in Monaghan I got lucky in a flat after hot whiskeys but stopped everything without warning and left. The air had hanging in it and she enjoyed works that upset me very much. So luck had nothing to do with anything. The best part of the night was when I told the taxi-driver i was a forger and mercenary of the worst order and that I hoped he would take a left at Castleshane forest and murder me with cable-ties and hurt in his voice.

He would not take the bait.

“Jesus young-fella, are you okay?”

“Never these days, please do away with me, I’ve got 50 euro, you can get the wife something fairly decent.”

“You need to get a handle on that fuckin boozin you’re at.”

“Just take me home then, your banter is atrocious.’‘

I can’t sleep anymore, the head-wraiths are running around with bad ideas. The problem with icy drunken clarity is that too many things are obvious. The shit on the boot, candles, the scots pines you planted sixteen years ago when you gave a fuck, that small stool where the shitty boot rests, everything that says enough, a sisters smashed window, the residue of these bastard years leaking down the leg even after putting away the thing that used to enjoy weekends.

I am unsure and can’t get open spaces.

Maybe I should go out dancing or murdering?

God knows I was always lousy at one of these

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