The fish market revealed so much to me

She was behind the keys and I was below everything else and staring at a mass of snakes and other creatures – many unfamiliar and most horrifying.  What was left to explain about male and female anatomy?  This question was posed to me at some point during the day by a man who may or may not have been a stranger to me.  I have no memories of speaking with him or seeing him before that day yet he was quite insistent in our shared past and I must admit to there being something familiar about the way he speaks and our rapport was quite natural.  He was in the same room as the woman behind the keys but his presence was not as constant.  He would leave to secure physical gratification with someone whose face was always guarded by the shadows.  When he left I would plug my body into various outlets and feel electrical currents raise the hairs on my skin and accelerate my heartbeat.  The woman was actually two different women and they wore two sets of clothes – one predominantly red and one predominantly black – so the rest of us could tell them apart.  Her fingers and her mouth created such rapturous beauty and in those moments I was unable tell either of them apart.  Only when finished would one promise such exquisite pain and agony with the other providing sweet words and caresses of comfort.  Logically, they should both yearn for my death but despite my attempts I was never able to discern what true feelings lay behind their smiling eyes. 

I was in bed after all of this and could not stop shaking for many hours.  I felt a door open in my brain and my room was suddenly bathed in red light.  There were still patches of black and I knew things were standing in those patches but I did not want to know what they were.  I closed my eyes and somehow the red light still penetrated through.  My hands clenched the blankets and the things approached and I could hear deep and irregular breathing. 

I cried and I cried at some other point and the tears were hot running down my face and some landed on my shirt and some spattered onto the floor where they gathered and accumulated and made something strange and frightening. 

I vacillate between The American Friend and Cosmopolis, watching each one a total of 9 times before switching to the other.  Occasionally, I will slip in The Minus Man just for something different.  Sometimes I curl up in my bed and put the pillow over my head and imagine I have been permanently snuffed out but reality eventually sets in and I weep uncontrollably and bite down on the pillow and grab the knife next to my bed and make several more etches in several different places.  Regrettably, my name has never been Victor and I strongly suspect it never will be. 

Over the course of the past few days I have purchased 7 albums by everyone’s favorite funk band AC DC.  It is amazing to me how my seething hatred for this group turned into adoring love.  I spent 57 hours today listening to their last (but hopefully not THE last) album Black Ice and learning the basslines to every song.  Even when I despised the band so much that I had their logo tattooed on my back to remind me of what a colossal failure I am in life I still always considered Cliff Williams to be perhaps the best bassist of all time.  “Skies on Fire” from this most recent release has an incredibly groovy bottom end (not unlike Colombian singing sensation Shakira Mebarak) and I played the song roughly 223 times in a row, taking a shot of El Jimador silver tequila between each time.  Eventually I was so wasted I actually believed I could amount to something in life and ended up inventing a new universal language as well as a teleportation machine which I used to transfer 9 crates of plastic Looney Tunes themed watches to poor starving kids in Africa. 

Afterward, I used this amazing technology to teleport all the way to the chilly expanses of Montana, USA where I befriended a gorgeous and generously hipped German woman with a limp – the origins of which I never inquired about – and we frolicked through the snowy fields and made out like ducklings and I told her I would love her forever and would kiss her feet every time she came home from work because that is when they would smell the finest and she said something back to me which I did not understand because I don’t speak German but it sounded incredibly beautiful because German is easily one of the sexiest languages I have ever heard in my life and this immediately made me feel like a real stale bastard because the aforementioned universal language I invented did not sound anywhere near as sexy so I immediately used my brilliant machine to travel back to my lair where I destroyed all the plans, diagrams and paperwork of this new language – burning them in a fire which burned brighter than a thousand suns – and I also destroyed my teleportation machine when I realized all the watches I’d shipped over to those poor malnourished youngsters had a serious design flaw – hence the discounted bulk rates I’d secured – and would forevermore run roughly 8.5 minutes fast and the guilt I experienced over those hungry hungry kids never having a time piece that kept accurate time was too much to take and I also knew that the world was not ready for this technology and it could easily fall into the hands of corrupt politicians and dictators but what really made me destroy this machine and all evidence of it was the realization that this gorgeous and voluptuous German woman could never really love someone as vomit-inducingly ugly as myself and I could not live with this device which had brought such love and such subsequent heartbreak into my life and so it was destroyed forever more.  I do it all for love. 

There is one thing I always wish for but it never comes true and I don’t understand how people cannot take notice.  John Frusciante (pronounced frue-ski-ant-ee) understands perfectly and outlined it all on the 10^th track from his amazing album “Curtains”.  Me heart him with all my heart.