? Who are you? I wonder... Me? I'm
y beneath a flyover that snakes its way
town of Halifax (I'll let you decide
ere). It's a quarter past twelve AM and

my home in Abbey Park (about three
ws of the moths dance across my stories
ooks. Here I've written published pieces
t is familiar with my name and work and
before today - but everything accepted
d nightmares from the real universe
n. Why?
now? Or could it be that everybody
either. Whether this dairy will be of
, a similarly debatable question. Good
being the first entry and all. If I
ach some kind of conclusion, forgive me
e. I don't know how easy it is to keep

ten ask me why I don't buy a car or a
to the Tunnel and back home again. You
of hoofing around at this time of night
got? Psychos! rapists! werewolves!
ing outa their holes at the same time.
sus. Moths simply dance and the tunnel

f you walk more than ten yards without
le, you're pretty hellishly weird. Thing
iety fails to understand is the amount
nights walk. Problems, riddles, ideas,
erstand have - many times - clicked into
streetlights, or as my footsteps have
dles unwound. Found.
looking for shelter and I haven't been
here because I want to be here. I like
ahead: drive, ride, bus it home... home
e human and not think of each other.
s place. It's not very big, not really,
safely across the daylight-busy tarmac.
on - past that, a DIY superstore. Down
en a filthy, cobbled road to an ancient
lack squares either end. Park near the
ers begin- stop- and then turn and run.
and walk home in the morning mist.
an hour to scribble that. Writing can
e first bit though, I think.
course. If anything happens on the way,
ming I'm not in Intensive Care.
orgot something: Chesters. Stuart
I'm 19.

dering I bet.
ing too. It's because I write, that's
nemployed, that's another strong one;
lf. But there's more... Something I
yet. I think perhaps- oh hang on

walked through, staring at me all the
lem was... He grunted.

teenage responsibilities such as work,
c, mainly because I've realised I have
s it were). Older readers, or you
ker than the majority might have some
how can I explain?
ht now, anyway.
nder the Tunnel and observe people.
e to plague and tease, maybe even...
attered through, panting wheezily, eyes
t didn't really look at me. Animals
t and it's kittens scuttle on past with-

in? Oh yeah: myself.
parents about seven months ago, after
ation, which involved my mum and my
ed) is fifteen; four years younger than
nly thing I can do is write short
are either too sick to print or too
ssion. This makes me pretty talentless
fired from three jobs since I left the
e come to the conclusion that, not only
lso unemployable. I take creativity way

English, the other in Graphics, and on
s. Not bad for a guy who's ambition used

University, not because I wouldn't like
k the confidence and don't have any

ducational rejects: Gemma Forrest, an
irl who has sex with anything in
being raped (and she was once, as far as
before you ask); Steven Warwick, a
he-crowd layabout who collects billion
s got me sussed (but he hasn't); Tim
ar old who lives with his braindead,
he told me this, thinks Manchester's in
m because, like Steve, he's very
fan of my gory fiction; and lastly,
s at the DIY store up on Pellon Lane.
om the list: she's become what I would

and younger than me, a late-developer I
nd looks about twelve) but despite her
gent and mature - she could do a hell of
till nine hours a day, of that there's
hen she's worked a late shift, she comes
o me for a while. I enjoy our
record the next one down when it

ren, just to see what she does. I don't
before... Though I'm probably wrong.
nt with her parents in the Canary
ut a fortnight, so she told me a couple
have the balls to tell her this but...
s her like crazy).
etting very cold. Tomorrow I'll tell you
promise you'll keep reading. I have much
, and so much more is going to happen.

und midnight, I stalked two teenage
ut of their heads and giggling like
the Tunnel they muted themselves for a
then out it came:

uss leave em."
off down the Tunnel.
ssault, viciously intensified by the
he kind of thing you'd expect might
kid in a school classroom when the

pretty and scantily dressed, and I
jealously, (excitedly?) until they
of the Tunnel. Then, I closed my note-
after them.
h behind to hide in the shadows, and yet
of my shoes to ring as a distant menace
down Crib Lane, kicking each other,
e road and back again (one even threw
eason their careless, chaotic wandering
kept seeing the desperate faces of
he rejected and abused... And my
e friend - Karen. `How have you earned
' I thought. `Where did you buy your
ou into being more careful on the
hat be evil? Hell, do really, honestly

ou've put up with a hell of a lot of
about the feelings or opinions of
e take unfair advantage of the innocent
y already? What gives them the right? A
e divine lottery of fate?

drunken sniggering and playfighting
id not. They increased their speed, kept
red to each other. Head down, I just
e. Streetlights buzzed. Footsteps
ody else was around.
he flyover, we were nothing but midges.
; the steps would appear that led up to
dead up there, no matter how late the
, I had to do it soon. Immediately.

into a sprint, I noticed the pair had
emselves on a low wall. They were
approach like Kittens in a cardboard

down. Passing them wasn't right. What
No, I had to go along with my feelings
mistake - if afterwords it felt wrong -
vel. Halted. I looked up. The girls
ery eyed and shivering. Slowly, quietly,
g happened. The three of us stared out
, listening to the hum of hidden
ter them.
ear- excitement- rage- the world shook
xplode in a fountain of glass. I lashed
claws, raking through hair, splitting
mping trainers. The first shriek of
ums. Surely this could not be
hich way round was natural? Not this

scaled them in fours, the other
Vision sparkling with balls colour, I
head down, down onto cold brick.
ard into her stomach. She gargled,
up- the other girl had gone- vanished-
ped her, grabbed a breast- squeezed it-

I think I said (it's hard to remember).
ll soul, never never never, or you are
he words came out steadily, but in
ling- desirous to rape- to torture- to
hing immoral to this pathetic moth that

om above.
until her breast was completely flat
s digging into flesh. The girl's eyes
and I felt my other hand fumbling for my
ed: I was going to- I was going to-

irs... And ran. Ran, ran, ran... Where,
Who the hell am I? What gives me the


for tonight, I'd better head home. If
. I'm an okay guy, as you'll soon see.

with me today and added some graffiti
DLESS CONFUSION" I wrote... Done all
bubbly writing. My A-level in graphic
times, you know.
g graffiti in the Tunnel at this moment
s: "Moore ON Tour 90", "Smoke POT- it's
woz ere", "I love TSO 92" (in jagged
US7", "Cheekie Chappies!", and of course
hat unoriginal - "Kay&Jonny", complete
ckling out from beneath the &.
rt of Halifax before. I do not feel good
more... "mine" now. Like an animal
piss or shit or something.
lasses walked through the subway after
rpiece. He was pissed through (it's only
idn't look at me at all. He reminded me
horror stories. Strange - maybe he was.
eyes won't stay open. This job (job?)
ey, I'll live. Friday tomorrow, should
ikely, Gemma. We'll see.


er than usual to catch the drunks as
I got kicked once and spat on three
irrisistible name-calling attacks) but I
their pathetic and pointless sins one
y have).
ads at about half past eleven. With no
approached, I felt my skin dampen: what

hat his fuckin homework or summing?"
l, males swarming her, licking her ears,
wn at me.
years old and still studying at school.
ems frightened of the term "work" and
e ropes of higher education for as long
ell she expects to use her eventually
ve no idea. Still, I'm not one to
ons. And let's be fair - no matter how
d sex, Gemma is still a little girl.
d her. The surrounding males barked with
hing hilariously funny. I ignored them
ot laugh or argue about anything they
eventually) result in them completely
uld be bliss.
y." Gemma demanded.
h" chorus and tottered around, waiting
upon hearing my usual, negative
." I said with an impatient sigh (the
ang of braindead males than for her).
wed: obviously I was either stupid or
crowd had calmed, Gemma wormed herself
of me, face gazing into mine.
one to judge girls like that... Smooth
s of touching in case it's just make-up
r fingers, and beautiful blue eyes...
are, if you stare for long enough.
xterior and what've you got? A human
'll frighten you.
prised of a short black skirt, a thin
er bra through it) and a dark denim
allow her hefty chest to poke through.
m female and here's the proof"? "Gemma,
ou silly little girl, I'm just not
nts on them for a start.")

it. Opened it again. "Ah, nothing."
hed?" That came with a smile.

novel yet?" She's always asking me that
ter - according to Gemma - unless he's

r book when you start it?"
a book?"

ales had given up on her and drifted on
ne, but I could see faint shadows waving
n the northern box.
re a fucking bastard," she muttered.
e? Why'd you sit under this stupid

e?" I snapped. "I've told you, I'm not
st bugger off with your boyfriends."

azy bitch. I can imagine at this stage
at the hell my problem is. I ought to

st important, my real, inner-feelings
spond with those of Gemma's. Second, I
h females that have, for that past three
ken pissants from the scummiest depths
eyond). Third, I consider myself a very
Ho ho ho, good joke, right? Right.

I'm not interested. How many times do I
push her away and she ended up grabbing
" she insisted. "Don't you fucking lie

t lost, Gemma."
ome more. And then she jumped on me.
d on me.
fore I must admit. Threatened to do it -
s, but never actually physically thrown

tank of perfume and beer, and as we
or, she dug her teeth into my neck. I
of pain to clear a guy's thoughts.
urned round, extracted, pushed, chin up,
op, her head between my knees.

do you?"
, gerr... OFF me!"
are juices don't you? Eh?"
you're hurting my ears-"

some spit onto my lips and let it build
like she was hypnotized.
tched... And fell.

soft slap! on her upper lip. She closed
still unaware of the escape route
perhaps... No. I don't think she wanted

r face. She caught it on her cheeks, her
Tried to spit back, as if unnaffected.
er eyes twinkled... This attack was a
more turned on.
te pizza bombshelled her forehead - and
shadows and voices. I clambered off
vaguely aware of being congratulated by
g a first class face-shower.


kends unless my parents are rowing.
seeing Gemma... Head jammed between my
ing under the light of the Tunnel.

e moths flutter and I wonder... Have


ys: Sunday - God said - is the day when
chill out.

arents saying how shit and hopeless
how magnificent and promising and
er is/is going to be? No, probably not.

g a manuscript and it was late
me in from school and I could hear Mum
ing his shoes off before he walking into

stopped in the hallway. Mum and Richard
out me. I tiptoed up to the livingroom
t you to become like him... Wasting his
stories... REAL career, REAL job...

know it."
'm only glad I was eighteen when I
tion; any younger and I might have taken
escaping the house with the bang of the
is footsteps were quick. They had to be;
hurt, and I was both.

upid, she-"
the street. The sky was white, the
ss [blue?] cars were droning by. "No,
st doesn't like me. Hasn't that twigged
was a mistake."
eek. "Stu, no! That's not true!"
even faster. Richard jogged to catch up
I snatched away, teeth together. If he
'd burst into tears too, and then before
h Mum at my knees, begging for a
pt... I'd be right where I was (where
numero uno.
the, house, I mean, Stu, I wanna read
, your new-"
pid cunt."
ted a moment, thought about apologising,

lesh and blood crouched sobbing in the

hen I roam the streets alone what am I
the table with Richard what the hell am
own words published am I supposed to
p and throw it away what am I supposed
what am I supposed to do what am I

ts have no feelings. Adults are evil in
t acts. Be a child and you can pass
ent's eyes and it... Hurts. Why else
ly morning hours writing shit nobody

writing this for ARE my parents. When
d weep. Weep weep weep cry burn in Hell
u've done to your own son.


ad, with no love whatsoever.

Pratchett. You want monsters and ghosts
ial grounds, look up James Herbert or
myself many times (nothing wrong with
your arse down on ice cold stone when
ts peak and write under the Drug Tunnel
of the overhead lights and the chatter
r, closer, new questions about horror

ill ever read this, because I've done
: written with no market in mind, no
orals to confine me. And yet my chosen

rhuge essay? I don't know. I don't give
here has actually happened, but it's
wn fictional style; there are self-
complete with dialogue and
s if you look at it that way. I've used
s much imagery as I can. You need
people, not just a block of boring text.
eed to understand: feelings, emotions,

ope it's worked."

king dramatic, huh?



e end.


scribbling shite for the past few days.
riter, I'm not going to edit anything
re with me, you're with my feelings. I
ut I might slip away like that again.
much more to tell.

what fun that was. Just when I thought I
st anti-skirt, along comes Mr Knowitall
dy broad spectrum of hatred.

. You alright?"

ng of alcohol. I shuffled away. He
e through here without being pissed?

?" CHRIST: Question of the month.

ith me?"

t?" He turned away, as if in repulse.
mpramental twat: when he first arrives
harmless questions. Nice company. Then
ff my trolley". He proceeds to declare
and goes on and on and on, until I
ly or walk off. It's always the same

ren't you?"
I? Surely not. I looked at Steve through

somebody touched you up when-"
you're gonna talk, talk quietly and
ut your own sick ideas. Understand?"
mouth? I haven't got a sister!"
moths. "Something musta happened. This

mum did you?"
e. "FUCK OFF, cunt."
ff beyond all normality. It's never
Everything seems to have really...
, since I began this diary. Quite odd,

orrest last Friday."
n't shag anybody last Friday."
tell you.
st moths as it fluttered against the
e) until it fell on the floor and began
It wasn't so interesting then.
ou got your dick out and spunked all

"I spat in her face, alright? I spat."

ing? I felt like repeatedly whacking him
consciousness, then pissing in his
doing. My teeth scraped together.
ngry escape, and a good job it is too;
nk I really would have repeatedly
and pissed in his mouth: I'm a fucking
nk your lucky stars I found writing,

" Steve whispered, more to himself than
d about something. No change there. "You
Stu. You've gotta be past fifty to
Experience and all that. You've nothing
." He looked at me again, his goatee
amonds. "What ever you want to say...
before. Everything in the world has

t that when he first came out with it
s got a point I suppose - most things
covered or destroyed. Only the super-
of technology - or the incredibly rich
h, audible voice in the world.
e." I told Steve in an equally soft

he replied.
ure birds. The lights buzzed.
Then sighed.

bnail. Flicked it. "Why what?"
bout. Why this!" His voice echoed the
pointlessness. Take religions which
example... Like, say, Christianity.
Bible wasn't/weren't willing to accept
f existence - so they scribbled down a
S (All-Powerful Spirit) being the ruler
her/their blindingly obvious fictional
lions of sad pricks believe in it all.
y, but then again, isn't everything?)
e idea of a young, fairly attractive,
ubway during the early hours of the
into a notebook for absolutely no reason
oesn't fit. And it doesn't fit with
Karen, I don't think). There >HAS< to
my activity... I've been molested,
the house, shouted at, I'm afraid of
up a whore, I'm attracting my peers'
f reasons for my being here is
retended any one of them was true he'd
'd cracked me. I reckon I'd never see
e of his complex jigsaws.
after my silence. "I'll sort you next
m off home. Sure you're not walkin up

aggered off down the Tunnel. He came
one the wrong way.
tonight. A couple of other bodies have
een writing this but to be quite
uch attention. Sorry.

own. It wasn't just my knackered brain.

utes ago.
d hello, then hello again, then "Gemma,
ll we?" but she didn't stop, didn't sit

od. Not that I had her in the first
me right I suppose.
friend, but she was human... And the
h her was roll about on the floor of
itting in her face. What I bastard I am.

(if)... I think-
e'd probably like me to]

Tim for the past half hour. Haven't
s for an alarm installing company, has
Hell, when I first met him I admired

e saddest, most cornered pissants on the
d bastard to boot.
t's the only job he can get. He hates it
, he has to keep money coming in from
lfriend pregnant his parents chucked him
it feels like to be chucked out by your

only one thing in common: they're both
ey shag like rabbits.
gue. They share none of the same
down the other stands up. Doesn't work,
that? Can he bollocks. The only thing
a dick and she's got a fanny. In out in
the hokey cokey and you fuck up your

ing anything from our conversation. We
(new and old), about books and stories,
s I could use in my forthcoming fiction,

my mother. "Jobs are okay," I remember
interesting for the first week or two
the rest of your life."
t," was her impatient response --> That,
at. Fucking great.
eatest attractions about becoming a
ve a "job" as such, there are no set
and the pay (at least, for your first
position on the employment market]
nything worth relating.
ool, you know. Funny how things can
travel through the murky teenage
. There were times when Tim slapped me
ling myself... And yet he was sat here
my watch] chatting to me like we've

sick horror story I'd written myself out
r and gob-dropped class, Tim got great
me as a punch-bag. After "Bleeding
he started talking to me about horror
n King books.
he asked me one strange and bitterly

nt reply [it had to be a trick]. As it
erious. We became good mates. He even
red to ask him why he'd punched the shit
s". Fascinated me, it did, how anybody
hild-invented fiction and turn from bad

e a fuck - and still doesn't to this
tic bastard when everything's boiled

e why I hang out in the Tunnel for so
He's blind to the fact that he's partly
withdrawn childhood was panel-beaten
by people like him. Every slap, every
abuse ----> it's all still in me, some-
ot a life-scarring trauma - many people
same kind of thing, and far worse - but
y just cannot see it.
spent my childhood thinking about
iting them down as incidents in stories,
be diary of a murderer instead of a
b Tim likes my fiction: with out it, he
(to use his own description) --> stuck
Or dead, perhaps: me, his Frankensteins

ut Dim. He's average company, and - I
ut he's not the kind of guy to spice up


have reacted to my often bizzare and

place at which you regularly spend time
k, school, the local library, your
more is bound to crop up sooner or
alone on that one.
taken it's time appearing in my dreams.
d myself sitting in a mind-rendered
ntains moths which have my "friends'"
d there's a reason).
was sat cross-legged in the middle of
of a lighter (up-down) between my eyes.
completely naked - and there were three
s parked in a neat line just ahead of
g ones, and wrapped around each was a
ext, and a picture of a sky-blue car

several times, which is why I went into
lingworth this morning and bought myself
ate going into supermarkets - they're
brainwashing deathtrap, full of stuck
(and, though nobody seems to notice,
oo - rattling and scuttling and nibbling
stock-racks. But I'll tell you about
Retail World in general - another time.
rtant things to discuss).
of course, paid a visit to the "Wines &
k/horror!' guess what I found...
ed to know the wine is the exact same
ink before he popped his cloggs, hence
s been on a hectic fishing trip and
surreal dreamscape which I am now - on
ysically reacting to.
e empty. A good excuse to down the wine
t cost me nearly a month's dole). Right
ing away beneath an off-putting thorne
northern entrance.
found they're gonna get found, but
attention the average by-the-side-of-the
there and the path's sacred: if you
ep, deep shit. Yeah, right).

wall of the Tunnel, just like the one I
der back at school. Only better - and

action. Why? It's only a horse with a
fantastic about that? What makes it so
othing. Nothing except the way it looks.



s and walked naked through the Tunnel.
weird, almost painful `prickling'
chased those teenage girls a while ago
ngly hard and cold against my skin.
g noise of occasional vehicles made me

asturbated, then got dressed. Nobody
ll never do that again. I don't feel

ty. I think it'll be worth keeping you
wine. There must be a reason for it.
sed as you when/if I find out).


m Peeping Tom today (I'm not only
nt, you know - I'm squeezing out some
surprised, but I feel disappointed,

hard to handle when I was attending the
w months ago (before it closed down due
hop was one of the few "clubs" I've ever
t home there.
alls concerning writer's groups: one or
duals can dominate and even destroy what
od and healthy workshop; they can become
rs simply writing to and for each other;
ntentionally) hostile and off-putting to
just too "nice" (any work read out
rom around the table).
t seem to be heading off in any of these
d reading out my, shall we say "sicker"
responses to the set tasks.
ng alone the workshop seemed like heaven
through the door was met by a huge
writer! Yes! It was as though I had at
ed to keep in touch by sending mail to
the few people who regularly attended,
ren't nullified by a workshop, or taken
ing else for that matter. They're just
't think I'll ever understand why a
ue happenings) can possibly be rejected
style, badly laid out manuscript, some-

d pieces floating around, plus a full
sher more than three months ago called
the novel: he reckons it kicks the shit
ks on today's market, but what the hell
can get a book published. Not anymore,
tight & name-based. Too commercial.
rom competitions because of the language
In my eyes this sucks: where's the
inkled old fuckstains who haven't a clue
fiction = modern language, you prune-
that twigged yet? Just because I don't
dred's tea & biscuit party doesn't mean
it is all rejected, that's it. No more
more attempts at "breaking through".
nion, the best work I've ever done, so
rom that, hell, why dream of
the talent, I know I don't. I think too


through the Tunnel tonight. So I've
n their homes more vunerable? At night
ey lock up at night - some even alarm
day, anybody could open the front door

our thoughts intact makes you realise
somebody insane - me perhaps? - to walk
random, to open a front door, it
inside, to close up behind, to creep, to

your door


self-analysis aren't I? Not to mention
e pages. I don't know whether that's a
looked at writing as a form of therapy,
already said a lot of what I'm writing
my book, Psychotic Dreams.
ight as well tell you a little about

ll, if it does get accepted for
many edits and additions and God-knows-
's much point taking a week or so out
sounding name - Psychotic Dreams is
bout, so why fuss?]
half-autobiographical; after over-
ith my brother, I went into suicide-mode
veral different ways.
. People think teenagers are perfectly
lf-destructive phase. It's just standard
to kill yourself did you? What
you?' On the surface - to the outside
eal. Maybe it is trivial, or something
hen a death occurs is it? It's not so
y is torn to emotional shreds. If, on
ant to suicide, think about that one.
to a great, chain-reacting power. A
power. A power that, once freed, can

promising book about the confessions of
s short urban life has been one of abuse
ted dreams are his only escape from a
mentally raped him of all forms of

he escapes... And learns to solidify
t feeble threads of hope remain, only to
n the outside world. He decides to
wn psychotic, perverted fantasies --->
s. Murder. Animal cruelty. Child sex.

unds like it ought to be banned, it
, and perhaps it is... But it was either

he ground.



. In another, I don't think I want her
again. Something's gone wrong. Some-
ally gone wrong.
heir bodies seem thicker. Their heads...
ther, they're just... More defined.
er. The clatter of Gemma.

too weary to write.
no no... Wasn't Gemma. Was Dianne.


hands in pockets. Shivering I think...
l through clouds of supergiant moths. I
ook in lap, pen pointed at the roof, and
't didn't... Believe...
vice versa as she came out of the
the vandalpattern wall opposite. Her
. Giant wing shadows spun webs across

as she said, "Please... I need to know
, innocent voice. My book eased
s - shivering and breathless - as I rose
id air and the Tunnel bugs from my skin.
at guy- who- like-"
nintentionally threatening. I was the
eyes. Tendrils of smoke rising from my
girl shifted her feet. Scratched an
lips with her tongue.
ught furiously. `I want to steal you
beauty into a thousand pieces. Girl girl

remember, if- if you-" She took a deep,
or what-"
myself whisper. A strong, confident,
nkyou Christ.
Don't give me your shit, Chesters, you
rred with streaks of red desperation,
psed, she fell- "Why am I pregnant why

empty as a perfect vaccum. My heart.
How many times must I scribble bull-
this insane mothnest? Here, on the floor
nonesense reality of truth.
ad page after page of pathetic lies]
I didn't..." I crouched, made as if to
be best never.
uddles, no words of comfort, no escort
less ice hung forever between us.
fantasies and ruthless riddle-thought.
itterness of drink and an invisible
weaty teenage male, asleep from
ly with the flicker of TV in his closed

ading colourful wordshit smeared across
me into the Tunnel through the northern
nd then slow, staring as he passed.
u doing out here you two friends? or

in the wind].
ng her, smiling a true smile. Her eyes
ning blind, charcoaling speech. What
s the sound of a petrified lifeform,
ereabouts, it's own jarred existence.
st. "Beeeoh-kay...?"
child I was confused just confused

ded her upper legs, her stomach, between
bling sight.
. "Not me, never... I would never do
blacked out for a few seconds. Went
evil activity.
eel- did some... Things. But never, I

, perhaps you aren't, perhaps it's just
st- not."
e's instantly triggered nightmare had
f a mistake. I grinned when I realized
longer be an all-destroying sea of dark

ued reading the walls. "Cath & Kim",
Ere": the marks of a hundred people
s. "Stu & Dianne", I thought of
blood, or when normality crept back...

child. Run. Run like the wind!]

e wobbled across the floor, climbing to
kyscraper. "Bye." She waved.
and come back if you want to talk," I
ck... Sometime..."
thern box in silence, like a traveller
te - back to her own, alien universe.
re does the same; from the moment they
away into the darkness, they are in MY
tle slice of this rotten, battered

ls, not yours]
I can't write anymore. I'll be better


a. I wouldn't. There's more good in me
nly thing "wrong" with me. You try
very night. It soon gets to you.

what's happened.
chore. Sometimes I think it's better to
than try to write them down... Ah I
ing? I can't I can't I can't.
at last entry was a bastard to write.
the beginning of this diary, I never
an a visit from each of my "friends" and
hy - prose as a result of Karen's return
aiting). I mean come on, I've lingered
the bowl of a toilet for nearly a whole
on. Very little outside, anyway. In my

nnection here between reacting to the
verything down as it goes on. If I don't
rite? I'll be buggered if I know. I'm
you, reader.

er visit, so there's little I can tell
ting herself sorted, or in so much of a
ent(s) I've become the last person on

her my name. I know that wasn't perhaps

e sword - "Here Dianne, kill me! Kill me
also gave her my trust. And I ask you,
ight. She left the Tunnel two days ago
- Steve Country - but it's taken until


come through here. Sometimes many nights
single soul. Oh, cars drift by up on the
l... But very often, nobody comes.
pletely empty. I'll start on the last
ey're for... But when the vehicles above
eep glancing at that strange blue-car

rs. Cars disturb them, make them shoot
the concrete like ping-pong balls in
I like cars either.


No sign of Dianne. Or Karen. Or anybody
n was so full of drunks I didn't spend
t want to get into any shit, not after
ing way.
otically tonight, like there's some kind
ething. The lighter: perhaps it's a tool
a! Jeez. They'd no longer be moths of
Literally. Sounds like good fun.
must've arrived late, or taken the day
t she will be back (hopefully)... God I

present really stem from the past, or
n based on the logic of time?
as a "traumatic/damaging experience" has
r a brief (and, perhaps more import-
ntal rejection... There are none of
und in the deepest chasms of my brain,
No, none of that.
being honest? Well... Who am I writing
ssibly non-existant audience... Or just
d guess.
my parents and brother. If they're the
l accept it... But... Is it possible to
g it?
for extreme lengths of time due to the
ef curtain" (temporary mental illness?)

lie has become the truth: I sincerely
being that nothing "traumatic" has
nd this means, if I am lying to myself,
t ever it is that DID happen.

Repair" (damaging)


rauma (damaging)
epair (damaging)

. What about Karen? No.... Neither of
At least, not that I know of.
what they do? Are the attributes "good"

planet, every human being is "neutral"
passive, aggressive genes)... ie:
e, there must be a certain age - perhaps
pbringing (nurture, basically) - at
usly - or consciously? - "decides"
is situated more towards "good" than

ing point...? Or is it winging up and
y mood? Is this state of imbalance any


of this "neutral point" found? Who is to
? Am I tottering around on this line

don't know what, but something is. This
s into focus.

at all for anything.
thing is predefined by no-"

morrow, when I hope I'll be able to tell
rejuion with Karen.


ll, my friends, for Sunday is the day
l, and fuck all will happen to anybody."

earlier than usual. It's still daylight
s instead of black ones... Just bigger

our... Not yet. I never see them arrive.
, the next- POOMF! the air is alive with
d dust. Where do they come from?
men) pass through at this kind of hour.
dding at me as per usual. They're afraid
rk, you know. Can't be sure of course,
r come wandering in through a black box,
police can't enter this dimension).
t a rape or a murder down here wouldn't
olice station. Ha! Blind bastards...
d. Blind what ever they do. Hell,
k some wine. Come on Kaz...

of Dianne just then. I was scribbling
I saw a shadow in the nothern box. As
shadow and the feeling of being watched
oked like her, it did, I swear to God it
here of course.
large dog. Came half-way into the
out again.

really do.

n up! What the fuck am I hanging about
le for what a BITCH! Fuck fuck fuck fuck
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f

last night. Shame you can't erase ink
e isn't it?

night (this morning, rather)... Him and
ok the piss out of me, of course. Got me
tty uptight ---> Hell, you know the
me and Tim.
I feel as if I'm being dragged too close
(whatever that might entail). Am I
I ask stupid questions, forgive me: I
ut things that matter, and even then I

mitting I've become a very lonely and
on't mind admitting it's not my fault.
everybody else did. Where's the wrong in
my fingers and grow up?

How much more?

drive at thirteen; I got laid when I
ed when my "mates" were still having
nnies - it's not my fault, okay? IT'S

am to get anywhere in life? Hell, DO you
stream, or is that yet another fucking
sion. What is normal? Is normal wanting
ouse, a rosy garden, a handful of kids,
mal? Stop coming to this place? Stop
ut. Perhaps I'm a cut above the rest. I
t of nightclubbing, girlhunting,
many other multi-named activities
eople. I'm happy... And yet not happy...
Churned up and as confused as buggery,

r makes you want to spit; nightclubs are
ien faces when you first walk in through
is never quite what you dreamt it would
d I have plenty of that]
looking good in your mate's eyes. But
self, now. Who would understand and who
denly, unexplainably found yourself in

hance ourselves-
are attractive to our eye-
ourselves are most important-
you say otherwise-


aces. I've never noticed before. A
sing beside the head of my unicorn. I
where they are now? S'nothing on the

finger them out, obliterating the memory
ut in a dream? Did the moths do

I don't like what she said at all.

you remember who they all are?
't. This isn't a book. There is no plot.
thing: I can remind you when ever I
arn Karen.
roine" of my world. You need to know
main reason this diary exists.
ower over all. Even love. When misused,
ct. Both can of course be illusionary...
ne, therefore so often a cheap, pathetic

I'll ever whisper that to her. Why say
males my age would not look twice at
ain and rejection in her greenblue eyes.
or image of the crystal clear perfection
- by the present youth population. If
ey won't have anything at all. If what
eye, they won't have anything at all.
sh. Bastards.
unningly attractive by several members
as attractive members of the opposite
el? Good? Important? Special?

rtisements on TV declare: if you're in
in control of your life. But looks are
ough a beauty catalogue prior to being
what we must naturally keep. Forever.
exception, perhaps. Because I show no
self attracted to me: it's NOT the way
a challenge for her. She believes I'm
. And I believe - in many ways - I'm
: my eyes slide down her body as she
sense holds me back.
mitted to Gemma?
of company, I respect the girl. But I
he way she talks. I don't like the way
lfishness, her ignorance, her periodic
t to be sexually involved with her. When
just laughed: I was nothing, nothing at
nd nobody knew my name: that's all that
my moderate success as a writer and saw
re in the shadows, did she allow me to
adder of expectation.
mix down here. I'm no longer asleep.
issy little peer-tides. No, kiddo: I'm

Junior school.
just a skinny white twig of a child -
ool Decision: the Eleven Plus Year. It'd
ied her back then - I didn't of course -
D] but she still caught my eye; I don't

t impossible to imagine I could feel so
aren and I would meet again and become
ven friends destined to fall in love
eally don't know.
went to a rough school called Holmfield
nt stroll from where I still live to

aren passed the all-important test (or
d when I got offered a place at sixth
pected school called North Halifax
year there... And yet physically she
suppose it happens sometimes. Boys and
mean she had no tits whatsoever, not
t eight]
I first exchanged words with Karen. She
ry, studing God-knows-what in the
I picked up a book at random ("Human
ck, chose another) and wandered over to
ammed down she jumped and I apologised.
mind if I sit here?"
ght and staring, as if her brain had hit
hrough it's filing cabinets. When her
w she'd found me. You can't forget some
es to them. You just can't.
and a few hellos in the corridors for
hen I got the piss taken out of me for
fourth year tart" so for a while
I did my best to avoid contact with
? I didn't understand the appalling
to peer pressure).
ast, frenetic talker, something which
ting with her. Throughout her childhood
, like me, a very minor amount of true,

does talk very quickly (and she'll be
has a voice I find... Wonderful. Just
w why.
eave sixth form, we'd become very good
ther with our homework down the deserted
k after school (Karen doesn't live very
about my writing and she showed great
uggestions for a few (admittedly
jotted down simply because she'd been

hink it was just a teenage fetish - when
ecame a fantastic legend.
of my manuscripts to read - beginning,
f and building up to my more intense,
by the time I left school we were ready
, neither of us poured anything out. One
ff in the direction of partners and
gathered up enough confidence to direct
reat shame, because I think we're STILL
ld never look at or desire any other
like my perfect partner. Another stupid
: if I masturbated over a girl I knew
out with" with that girl - it was the
a good, "existing-person" wank. By the
h form I'll bet there was only Gemma and
off my list... It was as though I was
aying "no, I won't jack off over you

shed and hormones under control, I'm not
nds. When you're shuffling up through
de a girl becomes the most important
list, way above exams - but now?
Not in the schoolboy kind of way. But...
cream she must must must be mine.

Tunnel earlier this year, and stopped
each other for about five months, so
nto the night. I walked her home: one of
I've ever had. Company, that's all she
nt company.
hift at eight o'clock, and either runs
omes to the Tunnel and talks to me until
other bus due. I hate all vehicles
think I've said before, but in Karen's
ic transport is quite understandable:
a cash till, I don't think I'd be up to

t, Karen and I hugged for the first time

arms, like I could crush her if I put
ressure. This, I fully expected: her
makes her precious to me... Like a rare
of being destroyed - ruined - by the
fingers. I was as gentle as I have been
r, and this pleased me. I think a kiss
my nose against her cheek, but alas, we
down opposite each other on the floor
ry in hand, Karen with a bright yellow
ssume, nothing but her usual, empty

ked, not caring much; she shouldn't have

kin huge deserts all over the island,"
nda like the Sahara, only not as hot or
t was fuckin cool, yeah. Like- really

ed in my book. Waited. Glanced. Her eyes

adore. She has a way of looking at me -
us look - which I find mysteriously
ating. Those who believe personality is
mply "eject" from a person and "insert"
t: every twitch, every move, EVERYTHING
riting this entry for two and a quarter
anything about Karen. She borders on

rough description of her appearance? A
and motivations? I could give you each,
ead and observe: it's by far the best
m and analysis in today's society. Hell,
F in this bastard diary]
aid and tossed a small, shiny keyring
wirled it through my fingers. It was
had a picture of a beach at sunset and
ed colourfully inside. "I know it's not
nd I had hardly any money and my mum
ugh I begged. I saw this fuckin ace hat
hese cool serpents kinda curlin round
Only I couldn't afford so I got you a
t you think? I think it's nice."
ping that didn't sound too much like
meant to be: I still treasure Karen's

uckin freezing." I laughed too. "Of
me, you could fry an egg on the floor.
fry an egg on the floor cos it'd get
dn't it?"

ell, I suppose it would."
h yeah, so anyway... I went swimming in
because the sand kinda sloped down
here it started you know? Only this
h or maybe German... But I think he was
p to me and helped me swim back to the
his cool twisty kinda dive-thing and

about her obviously much-enjoyed
the sound of her amazing child-woman
the point in recalling every event.
than usual, and I looked up from a
ing in my book as I listened. But Karen
top, and didn't look like she was going

"I'll tell you next time, maybe."

et. Hey, have you written any more

ed eagerly, ignoring her question.
ave you got anythin for me to read or
stories and your book and stuff?"
don't actually believe I'm gonna get a
o you? They won't write back Karen, they
st a dumb teenager."
on't know you're a teenager."
ren. They will. I'm not experienced

" she yelled, echoing the Tunnel. The
so fuckin negative all the time okay?
a be positive. They WILL reply because I
ait... Anyway," She stood and looked
u or I'll miss my bus. S'been nice.

t, who's this somebody you met?"

lode. "What- you met a bloke out there?"
forget it!" she began to walk away.


e my wrist has gone numb I will see you


warmed up. Here's something I haven't

e where Karen works. It was my second
d Person (my first being at a branch of
the people there were so stuck up I quit
I lasted about a month, working after-
r the first week I thought it was okay -
nd shivers up my spine - and then a new
nd everything went haywire.
ked, the way I looked, the way I stacked
held my fucking pencil. In the end I
is stupid fat arse and left - setting
f the warehouse alight on my way home.
, whilst I'm on the subject, lasted just
orary position with a re-vamp crew who
of a massive new supermarket just out
shifts which is how I came to find this
but it just wasn't for me: I got
ouple of tools (I never was any good at
rs spread by the gaffer himself - the
k, girlie bastard. I thought that kind
ed it's ugly head in school playgrounds.
eally mad and trashed the half-
ng down shelves and cupboards and
oss showed up when I'd done, narrow-eyed
hell do you think you're doing?" he
ly bizzare (and horribly self-indulgent)
orld's next Stephen King and that one
in WHSmiths with a copy of my latest
ees for a signature. Of course, the guy
esorted to a loud "Go home and fuck your
g QUIT you fat cunt!" before he could

suck. They drain your life away like
company's lips by some kinda gigantic,
ing. I call it the Vortex
really polite lady in a fur coat just
"hi!" in a gorgeously cheerful and
at ODD? Sorry about this. Let me pick
h yes:)
don't like about Karen is her apparent
er four months of full-time work I think
mptoms. Extended chat (yes, even for
elling products, barcodes and prices is
before she went on holiday she was
onderful things we used to talk about -
e going to change the world... Nothing
er anymore. I gave her a redraft of the
ams - she took it home and brought it
ely lied that she'd read it. I know
ked the new nightmare sequence' I'd put
wonderful'... Only I hadn't written a
of course (though I often wonder if
ept me).

tonight but it doesn't look like it (the
nine). I'm surprised none of my other
cently... Tim, Steve, Gemma... er...
t? What a fucking popular guy I am.
n met some dark, handsome bloke whilst
nto bed with him. If that's the case I'm
xual experience is okay (I got mine from
I was eleven, believe it or not) but
d anything long-term... Surely, please
S&K. Always.

er on today. An unwelcome black figure
od I hate that dump... The moment I
automatic doors, it brought the few
s, slave-employment I'd spent there

so much memory; it's not like I could
place had been entirely revamped with
new staff. I think it was just...
ght. Music.

re weren't as many as there was when I
they were still around alright: I
bastards behind the lawnmower displays -
d scuttling like giant black crickets,
ers. I don't know what they do, what
y just suck up the dust, but they
tell how big they are because they're
wouldn't be surprised if - out in the
pace as your average cat.
kers... But there are no moths in Retail

idn't see me until I'd finished my
to her counter, folded my arms and
to her neighbour and turned to face me,

What the fuck're YOU doin here?"
's it look like?" I said.
longer, as if she couldn't quite grasp
e, right in front of her, in the fucking
e looked at the stuff I intended to buy

eyes at me: "What's the fuckin rope
eed rubbish bags... Do you?"
ked, whisking my head round. "Argue with
Where's the manager, do you mind if I

ooked annoyed. Good.
st, avoiding the queue simply because
ve things about looking like an insane
City of Dis is that most people tend to
look like death at the moment.
at's what they call em, no shit) and
ks. Her till bleeped.
rip off.
now what you're doing... But..."
g, that's what I'm doing."
id." She looked at me, seriously. Karen
us if she tries, but it's a rare and
f her more convincing attempts. I gave

om beneath the counter and flopped it
me for somethin?"

scanned the rope through. I bagged it

ree sixty nine... Stu-u?"
a fiver. She took it. "See ya later

our- change and recipt- Stu, will you be
want me to come down and talk... Stu
ic doors cut me off from her beautiful,
sgusting, colourful, Bug-infested world

mpty. The moths are big big big. And

-dead in his wobbly, drunken state. The
e was clouding like exhaust fumes, his
ked... Strangely fatter than usual. And
Oh yes, this was TV influence at it's

and your brother?" - That before he'd

mme an answer." He collapsed beside me,
he corner of his mouth.
d something in my notebook. "Three
," Steve bolted upright. "You made a
didn't. How did your parents react to

once said to his son. `Very

uch things tonight, Steve," I said and
I'm very tired."
he subject slightly, say something
t did I tell you?)

dirty habit, right?"
ecause nobody has ever offered me a

a fucking dick,' I thought, but
game, just to see where it all ended
rents Love Your Brother More Than You'
w I'd cope... For the first time ever,
had actually done some serious research
perhaps spoken to Richard, or even Mum.
that serious about (excuse the
red, holding his fag out.
is surprise, and stubbed it out on the
Thanks, Steve."
sed out of his nut to realise what I'd
his lips, found nothing there, flopped

more than she loves you," He said in a
y been rehersing that line since he got
e here," He watched the moths for a

ly hit the nail more-or-less on the head
nclusion he deserved a respectful
erbal bombardment. By not answering, I
of his suspicions either. Perhaps he'd
another idea, thinking this one had

min withus?" He blurted suddenly. I
ttered, crawling for the southern box.
e one who `wins' the next time Steve
yes yes indeed). But we'll see.


pent most of the day wandering rather
ting though - there's always people and

s, doodles... And then suddenly I'm
ot the observer. Being scrutinized and
nd sat down beside me, peering inquisi-

uired. "You paintin things?" She
es and diagrams I'd been doing. "Can I
proceeded to draw a surprisingly
r. Suddenly she stopped and looked at me
pure child-innocence.
ster? How can you make pictures with no

n consider a response, a sharp female
tch, what've I told you about talkin

d scampered hastily towards the source
harp slap and a muffled yelp echoed
hen footsteps receded.

ody, please - come and put the colours

to keep domestic bollocks out of this
soon, I won't have any choice but to
/or my parents WILL find this place...
of this piece of work, this study of

re I am. I've seen him strolling round
solute stuck-up bitch of a girlfriend.
hey are at the moment (ie: nothing is
will be seriously `in the shit' when he
andering into my lair.

not, I'll undoubtedly KILL the

s Mum and Dad, why don't you just come
n't you just bring your shitty little
n come on come on come on come on come

ed out. Patience is the key, I think.
sit when they've nothing better to do
nlikely ever to return.
ed explaining. I reckon one of my

t s !
h h a
e i !aHa!
t a
! !

ing mosaic tiles have fallen away in the

a coincidence of course, but it's quite
lly heard one of the fragments fall out
s ago, but I'll be fucked if I can find

: I'm not too keen on hanging around
OME bastard would turn up.



er night. That's a long way for you,
ng way. Much better to get a car and
g, get a life, get grown-up.
ng, darling.
inutes to walk - not run, jog, sprint,
hike - all the way back home, from the

walking. How?
how to fall back into my own chaotic
a lot like trying to fall asleep: the
rder is never remembered, never quite
walk to and from this place - it takes
minutes to quite literally "leave myself
ensely I really believe I'm somewhere
g. I dunno, I dunno what/where it is.
ven minutes, I'm not sure, I CAN'T be
yourself occupied while walking to a
of course, to simply observe your
st - the people, the activities, the
l attraction of walking in the first
wbacks to these `normal' methods if the
or regular (or both).
a bad idea during the daytime, but at
ow your ears to function as they should
let's kick his head in nick it", etc).
I imagined small goblin-type creatures
eep myself occupied. These ugly monsters
as the aircraft. Destination Tunnel. Or
d give them weather reports, ETA's,
de attractions with my imaginary
ad out the menu... Anything to keep the

rning round in my fucked up brain, I
listen to music, I can't enjoy the
k: I know it all too well. The only
so... Fucking intensely... I feel to
pilot and cross over to a strange,

e strongest "body leave" I've ever had.

ut kissing Karen>
t Illingworth? Yes Illingworth!---
ndom thoughts>
e. Jesus I'm back home. Stop at the
ppened, scratch head, glance at watch

travel" shit could really be something
increased my physical fitness - Jesus, I
- it's just the repetitiveness that's

't just been on through. Isn't that nice
her to call in and see me?
said in a thin voice and sat down
k and sighed as she rummaged through
a small piece of lined A4 with a few
t me, just offered it. I paused before
or what?"

t on holiday?"

ou're jealous I met somebody."

poem okay," She rattled the sheet of
the fucking poem, read it, go on." Her
ast word: I thought she was going to
g at her for a while to see if it would
e... But they didn't. She started biting

hts spin round and round
p inside my head
raid I let you down
ghtless thing I said

eyes I watch the birds
my dreams I fly
ight, beyond the hills
here by your side

a moment. Folded it up. Gave it back to
her eyes.
wear I did, I wrote it." She gasped.
smiled. "Thanks."
sted I take it back. I looked at the
ght, I did take it back. And I smiled

d her short little skirt down, giving me
ite knickers.
I slid my notebook back into
sten to ME Mr Nice Guy Chesters," Karen
. "You may think you're some kind of
I'll tell you now, you're fucking NOT
hink it, but you're NOT. You thought
didn't you? Nobody at all. And now some-
ou're fuckin jealous aren'tcha. Well
k a shaky breath. "The boy... The man I
st- dream come true, do you see what I'm
ve EVER had come true. I want to be with
you too, because you're my best friend,
making it so fuckin hard... You're
Why don't you just say you're jealous,
th know where we fuckin stand, just say

screamed at her and threw my book down

ay," she whispered. "Okay, I'm going,
e turned and began to walk away. Her
in gooseflesh. She started weeping...
ut into the night.
a soft and stupid laugh.

y book to write this entry, I found a

uesdays, they've always-

her yesterday didn't you? Well forget
ife going after people. I'm sick of it.
who has to hang on tightly to the
ys* the one, always, I'm treated like
ut up with it all. Well bollocks.

last night's little episode with Karen.

the northern box. Just a shadow-curve.
as I put these words down. Her fingers
ped- she just peeped- what shall I do?
at shall I do?]

e shadow slid away. S'gone now, and I
't catch her. Perhaps she's a ghost. A
on't know... Hell, maybe it's not Dianne
p here, up in my head... But I don't
The rounded... Stomach-curve?

stories with real terror in them down
I'm having now: a sort of skin-tingling,
the inside with cold needles. The whole
r when I'm scared. Like seeing it under
Or drugs.

e, polypropylene rope. A bundle of
bottles. A cigarette lighter. A healthy
ded moths. Buzzing lights that don't
White mosaic stones; icy and tiny and
nd a new crack in the wall beside the

mean seriously, just what the fuck am I

as there. Huddled up near the southern
until my footsteps began to echo.
outed. She didn't take any notice: with
a sharp breath, she was up, backing

dn't chase her - you know as well as I
I did that.
nning to today's entry.
tonight. I got a rejection slip today,
orror story compendium being launched
My mum's been getting on my tits all
issing about on my computer without
a drop of writing... Or anything else

ective, I MUST. I don't know who I am,
must find out.
yet again...

didn't stop for a chat. He was with a
piss, as per usual.
e arse of the scruffy one,"
ur beggin bowl?"
unds the same in here.
leave him alone," - Jee, some defence
u doin, Stu?"

it original insults out - I get most of
alogue by listening to Tim's mates
some of it's hilarious. Tonight I've
, "spermy bullethole", "cockwash",
) and "maggot man" - although, glancing
e Jotter (a converted telephone book), I
'll just scrub that out. Yup, done.
nished, I received (from Tim obviously)
Any More Stories Published?' but on
answering ----> (a) it didn't even
if Tim Nice But Dim really wanted an
ed on back in here and repeated himself.
ous isn't it? Can't you see it? I can
as bright as a cock in a mousetrap:
of em. They don't care about me, or each
ew wave of sub/urban youth. Everything's
e. Making it extinct. And hope, don't

Haha. Oh yeah, I still have hope. I
figured out... Whatever it is I've got
ttle fragile ex-schoolboys keep coming

k the other day was pretty harsh. Not a
t anywhere. In fact, it seems to me
iously put me off the writing business

tions hurt these days - a hell of a lot
Halifax Workshop period - but stuff of
d discouraging nature, really does get

enon - publishes horror/fantasy of any
will consider material of "any horrific
ng to the guidelines. And yet they don't
They won't have it. Won't tolerate it.
d to write modern fiction without using

m an equally as insulting letter. Would
they stop, five lines into it, and just
it away? Why can't writers and editors
they join up and attempt to understand


ed by the word `fuck'? Why do you find
ection of four letters and roughly means
't bite you know! I mean... Why do you
bout the entire population of this
lar fucking basis, too?
h as `fuck' into my prose just for the
think, you're very wrong indeed. I
oung writers - about the present,
o matter what their age, background or
ould call `bad language' or `swearing',
ng lot, in fact.
inessmen talking in the street? Have
arguing in the playground? There is no
'm afraid. It's one of those small
that simply must be accepted.
er? Not even if it soon becomes, as I
flexible replacement for the commonly
ody' or `bleeding'?
ion. Until then, please cancel my
ucking shitty little 'zine.


ing it.
, somebody walked through: a black man
this far.


, different visions, same moths,
ght of my thoughts, half-asleep-
have to tell you:
a man with a box of tools sauntered up
elow the flyover. The advert it
e romantic film - was way out of date,
by dozens of felt-tip and spraycan

ing, watching, smiling, unseen in the
with his work. He packed up his tools
n of my Tunnel.
ment towards him - so pathetically blank
body be normal down here in the misty
work - and found I was looking into...
h backing. Empty, bottomless, looking

ared back. Pushed me out, sucked me in.
silence, pain. My fist hit it,

ache all over. Nausea washed over me. My
o people passed. Avoiding me.
flicker, but what does it matter?

them all


ord I spit- as the events of the non-
ding back in a rush of blood and

low-white flame of a cigarette lighter,
e. The moths have appeared as they
beyond the thought of burning them
burning this book for all the bitter
I also consider self-combustion.

e as the weather in this industrial
iously swing when self-discussed. They
fishing nets... Try to scrape me back
able, divine punishment I'm not quite

g drum- I HAVE thought- I HAVE thought-
g mind has CRACKED-]
anywhere in this town - and listen to
place is alive, this place is living,
d, creating and destroying mutant moths,
brain, it's spinal cord, it's lover and
y (soon) will CLICK.
and wait - my unassigned tools buried
e and scribble as always, popping my
e swimmers in the social seas... And
the moths dance and the shadows of
nd the lights buzz (like the growlnoise
) I run my fingers across my skin and
of a man but the skin of a shark, a

rd another chunk of the mosaic unlodge
up at lightening speed, but, as always,
t trace of fallen stone.
g: now we have a T ladies and gents. A
f the S.


did happen today, something that could
pe you can read this. I dont like

from the bedroom window! Arrived beside
consumed by a cold, cloudy darkness,
se, as the woman who'd given birth to me
ed! - rid her home of every trace of a

never said that before,
bothered about me using language like
ys condemned it. Still, she shouldn't
len my quilt, should she? Not at half
ING on the day God told us all to

l it lad, cool it. Play back the tape,
t, it's something special, something
CAN'T DO. Okay, okay, here goes.
I'm tired-"

. Let go now."

covers alone!"
all around. Fishcirclemouths, but no

e down in an explosion of glass and
I watched the shining dice bounce and
flowers and weeds in its path, until it
s silent and the front door was locked.
o change.
me clothes and walked away.

t in your heart?

before because you've suddenly become
the leader, the piper, the freeman... A
he landscape of a planet you arrived on
most awkward customers.
a passionate moment between two randy
e neccessary precautions. Lumbered with
fucking damnation by a mother obsessed

me? what?
ter like a product in a supermarket. I'm
ar school I attended, a brick in their
e!"). I'm a human doormat for lazy,
. I'm judged by others via a physical
y a non-existant God. Trapped in a

e streets of this doomed planet, with no
. Listening to an abnormal heart-beat.
rd world war - an end to the suffering
o a selfish species that does not

aste of time and matter. But there is a
rarely-obtained power, offered by true -
Part of this is escape from pressure.
ebel. And another part is certainty -
me into the Tunnel.


. Fed to good... Fed to evil... what?
Join dreams. Link worlds. Funny how the
came a gentle, cosy bedbeater what? I
for any of life's domestic requirements
I'm at now what?
ice why don't you just speak louder, I

ogether I suppose I'd better go and take
sh them, I dunno, tink them. The walls
oes that mean I'm cracking too? And why
ty today compared to every other day
crumbled bit beside my unicorn where the


g cold and I'm terrified because I've
omeless, but I'm alright.
ds aren't particularly comforting
o me over the past few weeks I think
steria, so I'm not gonna panic. If this
say, I'm gonna let it say it. I'm not
re to run! SHI T FU c
raight. If you scribble shite like that
re in deep shit: this diary IS you, boy.
fucking SANITY.
bled in the shape of four letters. I
l the blurry, messy, anger - I must have
o make sense of things - well, better
the evidence right up front, right
here! Right there!
3 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 21 22 23 24 25
here shit. Shit

to do

is one thing - all fucking day is quite
g me. I've spent a hell of a lot of time
tly very exciting - I must have looked
times since the start of the year, and
but I'll be fucked if I'm gonna sit down
monday afternoon, soaking up abuse from
t homeless! I've got a home! - and it's
you're walking, DICKWEEDS.
what the fuck is happening I don't
ers to call. I have some change and I
h from the dole office but I'm due for
FUCKING WEEK what am I going to do
tonight, darling. I am hoping they'll
table, supper's in the oven, there's
have a nice family get-together

walked up and down the Tunnel twenty
me five minutes. What the fuck am I
I should go back and talk to Mum and

loads of friends - loads of writing
's still going; the writer's group -
it stopped did I? Why Stu? Because you
re actually doing >> FUCK ALL << down
subway? O fucking great, as if she's
ust fucking great, I'm stuck here in
here man

op and put the colours in now, I would
e. oh please put the colours in

und note in my hand.
t making this up, and I'm- I swear that
s just happened. The words - STAy - are
eying them... But I feel like laughing,

thern box - Dianne I mean. She actually
d her stomach, come to think of it, she
is, and it frightens me because I
idn't, and SHE knows I didn't, but I
d she waved; she said come on over here
see you. A couple of little guys.
is definitely what she said, exactly

and her voice didn't echo. It was really
avelling through some other... Thing,
n't explain it.
numb I couldn't feel it when I touched
d down the Tunnel towards her, looking
ing why suddenly it was all so big and
, and then she slipped out of the box
aying "Dianne, wait! Hang on!" - only my
r, just like normal, so I'm not sure if

ed into the metal fence that boxes off
yes really do take a while to get
u know, and for a while I couldn't hear
he night or anything - anything at all -
hose ever-buzzing (ever-living?) lights.
mebody shouted. I turned round, stared
I saw was a short, scruffy tube, which
ected chunk of the London Underground.
aw a goblin, sat precariously (with it's
s mouth) on the fence I'd just crashed
hroat. I couldn't make a sound, never

like a fuckin dog turd with arms and
cigar bouncing in it's mouth. "Hey,
r seen me before. Something wrong?"

- yes that's right, you read correctly

goblins I used to offer a lift to. The
o poke out of my coat pocket on the
in an American accent, oddly enough) how
s made, and that he wanted a FUCKING
some FUCKING kip (only my coat doesn't
him that but (shit no) he didn't

ed like a blown-up paper bag and dressed
ned with silver studs, rather like the
hores dressed up in - whip in one hand,
membered him alright. The only thing I
ted little twat's name.
available right now," I knew what he was
want a lift. Well fuck you, gobb-o, I
no more. Been chucked out, didn'tcha
bitching bastarding cunting mother.

ct your mam would dump you out on the
ped the goblin, edging around on the
no fuckin shitniggle like that stop ya
" He snatched his cigar out and pointed
or something. "I got urgent business to
e just a coupla human footsteps short've
now where that dump is don'tcha?"
I'm not-"
lin produced the ten pound note that now
the pages of this diary. "Ten fuckin
k you've made every fuckin night since
ksucker. Think about it, Chesters." The
r his standards). "Whatchoo gonna do
a EAT? You gotcha self a Tunnel, yeah,
the fuckin package. If you wanna keep
ngin to your bones, you'd better start
s the little cunt's name.

t of it that easy, Chesters," The cigar
was this time pointed downhill. He
ay `shift yourself,' "Five for me, five
That's the deal."
nd looked down. There was another
ched in the brightly illuminated
silhouette, like the shadow of a badly

think about it," I said reluctantly.
at Magnus. "Did you hear-" But he was
or me to take. "Thanks," I snatched it
wiped my nose. "Come on then, climb

pened my coat pocket and lifted it
asy entrance.
t no inside pocket?" he grumbled,
ow lizard-like eyes. "Fuck me Chesters,
p, feet in my pocket, hands on the
easing himself into the deep end. "No
." I took it and stamped on it. He

ly ugly and foul-mouthed shitbag) by
e of the Tunnel. He rolled like a
ghed (properly, I mean, unlike the
the other night when Karen turned on the
---> shit no, this was REAL laughter).
screamed T'Nucy Nit.
ped him up like a big dog turd. I
d first, suddenly accepting - and
ne power.
ter - long, dragging minutes of endless
proaching the Beechwood Road turn-off
ooked like two big, green boxing gloves
at either side.
n-off to the library, I plucked the
e Action Men and eased them down onto

uck!" They both shrieked in chorus and
ered by the roadside wall. "Always put
bellowed, unseen. "Joo want the whole
ch were now featherlight but full of
oblinshit or something), then announced:
Chesters, gentlemen. Have a pleasant

as about to swirl round for the journey
eded, Confused Man's Journey, I was
gnus, now visible again, screamed up
forget we're lookin after you, fucko!

"I'm sick of this shit you ugly little

yellow-orange eyes twinkling like fire
wheels will take you." He hissed. With-
the shadows.
hat's that supposed to mean?" I shifted
eetlight slid up the wall, stealing the
urtain... Except there was no trace of
kwork, glistening spiderwebs and rain-

ounded microscopic. "Hey, are you

night wind. I looked back down the road
distantly... Getting closer. I stood
, until the light source exploded and I
f) what it was: car headlights.
forehead - those goblins were heavier
ng quite badly - and the car rattled
thin river of rainwater. I watched it,
I can only describe as `an air of
this same scene (the night, the cold,
l fit together.
nightlight, I could see the colour of
iful blue.

now (or at least TRY to get some
unter with the goblins was real or
s tucked into my underpants.
I'd better buy myself a few changes of
uck am I going to wash? How am I going

can change in the Tunnel: I've walked
this: these entries are going to get a

ught it back to me today. A memory - my
al experience - perhaps the underlying
sed with the idea of rape. Rape

as called Nina, eight years since, and
d living next door and working in some
pe-Nina they called her, and never
her door, only I lost my ball over the
d to knock, I had to had to knock.
t?" I said.
id and the door closed. Warm, funny,
e and the echo of a radio somewhere (I
own furniture and alien ornaments and
se. She went and sat on the settee and
oors and then out into the green
l which was resting contently in a patch

er the wall from her garden! The whole
of it, the whole of it: jagged-hole
nst a clean white sky, so I stayed for a
to it!).
behind her back and I turned and said
e crane and she said no, it's okay, and
took it and smelt it and saw that she
to eat mine (manners and all that even
sty- but it was hot); freezing ice,
tterness as her lips turned bronze and

in the fridge. If you ever want one,

on her white blouse thing... Hung
d runny yellow like dog's wee. She
ite fascinated because her (what
ht there and plain to shape beyond that
than I had ever been before to

ne button clicked open (more skin and
ch as a centrefocus for my eyes only she
idn't mind me looking. Cold sticky
s: hadn't hardly touched my lolly, even
e air, catching flies as Mum would say.
own the street and friends yelled, Mum
and some birds flew overhead in a
hhhhhhhh," there was a little nipple
smaller, much much smaller than Mum's
, I really liked it, my lolly dropped on
looked and look look looked.
g the lolly up and down and round the
t much, more at me, like she wanted to
r eyes were so blue I couldn't stare for
red and pink and so big nipples did
was really nice she was beautiful, I

y tongue- lips- tongue- swallowed, can't
can't go home. Dog wee yellow all over
yellow bib like Richie's old one that
are you doing...', `Can I touch...',
hot and rang and echoed but never never

you Stuart... Come on."
oth inside sweet-smelling tatty house,
ld. "Shhhhhhh," buttons undone
wn chest, clung to pinkish red nipples,

er seen anythin like this you have never

mustn't tell anybody, okay?"
at couldn't speak so nodded yes yes yes
paul but paul won't tell anybody else

't have to shake. It's okay."
is right you never said this happened
you had to be older I-
you my fanny as well. Honest. Go on
ck level. I reached out and up and- and-
kin, not like skin I had wanted to feel
an my fingers across not soft but hard
d then Nina made a noise so I snatched

ue licked bronze lips. Bead of wee still
ick breathing... And her chest was
warm breath soft lips against mine,
, and she too was shaking- sweating-
broke free of home friends mum brother
reamy as she licked and pulled up
t my thing in her mouth and then things
and carried me to different places and
ings to herself as I watched through
le by stiff branch that was my own
quick like these days now in Adult

ook with us both on it bottom top bottom

or a few days, and forever after when I

is memory. There are great problems. And
ll agree, is the fact that I'm quite

n past... Perhaps from a dream, perhaps
sure. But it did NOT happen, not in

anne. Perhaps I made up the part where I
n fucked up thoughts - and recorded a
ing, as if to say to myself, my REAL

esn't take another eight fucking years

long I spend in this place now that the
apart... I'm engraving marks in the
like my friend STAy over there.
�10 on some boxer shorts, some sand-
bag full of fruit from one of the stalls
to stretch the dosh because I'm sure
will be back tonight, outside the
Well, I'll be very happy to oblige.

ng as I took a slow bite from the Boots'
cognise one of the voices... (could it
..) For a moment I was filled with so
utiful Karensound that I let a gooey
my mouth and splat on the floor like
t (couldn't! needles & pins and I ached
up: she was with somebody ELSE this
ng your friends TONIGHT?)

g. Echofootsteps. And then in they came
oth of them, masking their lower faces
ce, like she was talking to me over a
untry. "What the fuck's going on?"
er companion (whatsisname? what?), a
ayer of a bloke.
ought desperately, almost bleeding with
s - red hot and lightning fast - shoot
hem ventured into my lair like marines
d to make a sound but all I got was a
thing was stuck there - an elastic band,

ick (Karen help me please)]

n for me like a pirate for treasure and
t save her some time. "WHAT HAPPENED!"
didn't like that one but I couldn't see
er smell her hair her touch her being...
s and nose and mouth to stop running but
few words like "how are you?" and "mum
little basic hints of communication
a new, attractive, Poor Stuart way. It
roduce Mr Hunky.
bout you, I'm Bruce," He offered me his
t and squeezed it tightly to show I
sn't. The guy was big and the guy was
ble (you don't fuck with people who talk
motherfucker, or who see the Retail Bugs
can KILL YOU).
both. "Go, please..." I waved them
w each other not an appalling mess like
ng dickfannies don'tcha see how shallow

he tugged my sleeve. "I want you to
ay here... We'll find somewhere for
ourse we will) "We'll gotoa-a-a-"

eople when-"

d into my jumper. That was when Bruce
ted buzz of the Machine's stomachlights
ed rock statue from a mythical film (I
d the Argonaughts") and about as
condition as a cup of cold coffee on a

gently. "It's quite obvious to me that
d give this guy a medalion) "Are you
all over this subway?" (it's not a
EL - The Drug Tunnel) "Can't you smell
anced round, wrinkling his nose up.
ng mess, how do you think it's going to
bed his chin again, that lovely spiky
ted between Karen's cuntlips yet has it
f Karen's is a friend of mine. I can
an't offer a place to kip because I
staying with Karen at the moment," (I
d against me) "But I can give you

hurts when I smile, now: my lips are
tle. Not much, but a little. I'll

elf out of my coat and took a few
job? But-?"
.. Taxi service."
he knew I was lying, but I just winked.
t they mean, what they symbolise? Or do
this socialgolem's cock inside you all

e more. The place stunk. The lights
onal drunks staggered past, squinting

watch beeped midnight.
g," Bruce whispered. "It's morning now.
ntly tugged her jacket.
st me.

- directly under my message "ENDLESS
" He breathed and stopped massaging his

I used to."

"You mean you can tell?"

" It hurt so much to just leave it as
estion: "Isn't she?" I added (please
ce shrugged. "Maybe she was for a while,
ink it's over now. Perhaps a fantasy, me
l." He smiled to himself. "She said I
e out coarsely, viciously.
ng into my hostile eyes, before nodding

er?" I wasn't whispering anymore - in

I like her."
ove her, will you?"

part of me wanted to cry part of me
and spurt the blood across the walls of
o rip the smug hedgehog chin out of the
e young beast (that had stolen my yes
e wanted to curl up and go to sleep and
tmare was over but the real real real
the truth from a single surviving
ack and corrupted heart told me it was
creation my own lack of self-
-belief self-power self self self self
ed, now crouched beside me. "I'll tell
. I'll tell her how I feel, okay?
I know she will. I mean- shit, just

I hissed.
p," He rubbed his eyes. "You're right,
doubt I ever will be. I like her, a
person, a great friend, and christ we
s... But what you said a few moments
uess sex is all I wanted." He looked

eject at last and I wondered: are you
hat you see?]
looked down at the sleeping girl.
wake up."
pulled away, and I was left with a patch
I knew would fade so quickly I would
d her up in his arms.

midnight, we're going home."
ck tomorrow, I promise," She called over
red as cherries. "Take care, don't go
omise, I proh-hom-iss..."
'd stopped thinking fucked up thoughts)
e that the little guys were back, so I
etches to prepare myself for the long

om his perch on the fence. "You gotta
o. They don't keep on being the young-
mutate! They grow up! And there's
so quit moping around and wipe that
We've got places to go, am I right?

"Yes," I nodded. "Right."
aboard and we were off - no delays. The
sengers didn't complain as much as they
't say as I enjoyed myself.
en I'd made up that bizzare sexual
possibly have become so vivid and

would slot into place around the non-
m REAL, make it feel as though it DID
the time, there was a voice whispering
t up at home when you overheard your
lf when you saw Nina naked one day!
maybe you should try and remember the
e you following all this? or are you
n fucked-up conscience?"
e memories tonight, but I did come back
fteen pounds in my pocket, and now...

(thrown the old ones in the bushes -
ke chips & sauce) and I'm now going to
crete to watch the moths (or are they
r until I fall asleep.
s, I'm going to "solve a jigsaw puzzle"

wasn't under the Tunnel, I was outside,
nus usually lingers. I had been blown, I
e dead leaves. According to my watch it
s cold and stiff and starving, so I

a boring slideshow. I spent most of it
about Richard (if he was upset, if he
I returned or letting Mum tear it up
he was looking for me, if HE'D been
... I mean WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? Does

will help me. And let's face it, I do
e no confidence anymore, no faith, no
no... Well, no nothing...
this diary - I'm obviously going insane,
n what happens to me- what I see through
the hell should I make it up? I spend
why bother making a fictional diary
l? Will I look back and remember it that
uish reality from fantasy?
on't know what's real, what's unreal,
s anything...

ed I guess. And one wine bottle used up.
d? Oh I'll tell you what happened shall

hed and reached into my pocket like I
ette or a gun or something but instead I
empty empty wine bottle, which crack-
e Tunnel leaving me with a circular-
e boys slowed walking - stopped walking
I turned, slowly, grinning.
gentlemen." I smiled, holding up the
of glass rolled out of it, hit the
can see the whole of the crane, not just
quinting at me, drunk as usual but
e rest - me, his friend, his contact,
the Twilight Zone, gone mad, turned
scination, I think - and I advanced as
rds, some still giving me abuse, but in
apologetic voice.
don't hurt us master, we're sorry-]
when they realised the smell and the
up the walls and the new grafitti done
ood that might be my own and might not
e here, come to Daddy...
boomed, his voice fresh and new and low
Tim beneath the Tim. The darkest depths
d me and kicked me and driven me to
e was back. "What the fuck are you gonna
nd the head with that, eh? You're fucked

but electricity. My fingers were
g, my skin was running with sweat.
d through clenched teeth.
et's just go-"
hern box. Three more. Tim in the lead,
r. After all, I was his friend.
Tim chuckled, arms held out. "You're
th that, are ya Stu, eh? You're just a

e who had screamed and that I was the
t evil night with the teenage girls -
young men, terrified of insanity,
-bottle held high and ready to strike.
se ended but I do remember slicing open
into his back and slashing him across the
st I thought I would trip. I remember
sky, blinding me, filling my mouth,

the Tunnel and collapsing not with the
the tinkle of glass and the crack-whip

t remember... Except her warmth. I do
g to die, soon, I can sense it. They
die. I am satisfied that tonight I chased
ers away, away, away from here and I am
m and spread his guts all over this

those who hurt you in the past or you
d risk the breakup. I took the risk
riendship, two-sided friendship - would
riends who deep down d n't give a fuck
holehearted, throughout?
t remember.

d a fiddle all over the kitchen floor
such fun and the Bug did a million more,
on more


shimmer yellow-white like puddles and
y skin. I am in a cardboard tube, a
in and out but I'm not allowed to leave.
in here like rivers of melted butter
he walls.
ght. With Karen.
e, mum said you could have the spare
u're not staying here, I won't let-"

see it from here, I can see it, I love
bastard for hurting you, I can see it,

le after that, crying I think, though
moths flutter, like little heating fans,
nd around my face.
ere in the road that the things we
ays. Wine bottles, rope, black bags,
brickwork and made-up-fantasies. They
e puzzle to solve - crack that and
waiting for anything to happen and
gination what I wait f r doesn't exist
ing my head) up here, do you get it
beginning to make sense.
the riddle that is Steve today when he
y yellow butter) and stopped and
instead he turned to pity and offered
hich I took, before I hooked the rope
rag him across the ground, nearer and
mension-swap, nearer and nearer to the
of the beast, and I swung him ---> I
s squ aling and crying and bleating like
him out into the monster's buttercoated
s legs then his body to the waist, then
ut, out of my world, out of my nest, out
was mad as I flicked the lighter up and
ited for his voice to leave like the
it won't ever be back.
d him, though he didn't hear, and I can,
from in here.
came back to see if I was still alive
ought a police man with him through the
out to be a big binliner he was holding
side it, something caught, something

call it, yes."
im's mates, he looked different, not a
nd one of his eyes was a different

e?" I asked him.
Bug first," he replied, smiling.
d him and he waved before disappearing
iately after the dimension flash, the
and swish and rattle - big it was,
big - and staggered up and took hold of
nsect, the plastic clash of legs, the
ong smell of Retail Bug shit - black
in the shape of bullets, I sensed - as
d it to throb and thrash and kick and
e to torture.

sharp and c ld. Tore through my jeans,
grip on the bag and skidded down onto
ed and yelped and eventually leaped free
opper, it spr ng for the southern box,
eak and a dimension flash.
ee of the Tunnel and chasing the
t I don't remember getting to here, laid
omewhere in the dark. Magnus said some-
smashed to pieces with glass in the back
und wandering aimlessly by a man

on and Magnus climbed out of my pocket.
a summersault, sat up and made his eyes

s," he said, grinning. "End of the road,
en I wanted to be back at the Tunnel in
moths and think some more about the past
make use of the things the STAy message
ouldn't, somehow, you know, I couldn't,
out warning, the final frontier, the
my grandfather felt like before death,
te the blurring his vision was and how
sorry for all sins he must have been.
oths, with the dreams," smiled Magnus,
ghost; I could see the bricks in the
out and face the music, fucko. Stand in
eel the current."
out there, out in the middle of the
White moths, silent and freezing and
rted snowing as Magnus disappeared and I
mer, ready to STAy now and tackle the
lame, up-down, up-down, and to scream
to the end, right to the fucking END,
to the END, I scribb e to the END, the

agery, mainly of Karen. Remember being
ng d wn into mine.

, drinking s mething, being told
do anyt ing.

lot of talking, not m h from me - j st
ts. Mum a d Richard. Mum cryin�. Mum
y side. I rem er touching my face and
f lumps.
in the b shes where I kept t e items I
d they found glu of all things in plas

nt of my eyes. Se med excited. Quite a
n't think I h ve met before. Papers

I l ve you ."
but it m t be good ne s, unless of
I'm making it up... Or whate er. I
d see.

ng pen ' s r n ou