Who are you? I wonder... Me? I'm
beneath a flyover that snakes its way
own of Halifax (I'll let you decide
e). It's a quarter past twelve AM and
y home in Abbey Park (about three
of the moths dance across my stories
ks. Here I've written published pieces
is familiar with my name and work and
efore today - but everything accepted
nightmares from the real universe
w? Or could it be that everybody
ther. Whether this dairy will be of
a similarly debatable question. Good
eing the first entry and all. If I
h some kind of conclusion, forgive me
I don't know how easy it is to keep
n ask me why I don't buy a car or a
the Tunnel and back home again. You
hoofing around at this time of night
ot? Psychos! rapists! werewolves!
g outa their holes at the same time.
s. Moths simply dance and the tunnel
you walk more than ten yards without
, you're pretty hellishly weird. Thing
ty fails to understand is the amount
ights walk. Problems, riddles, ideas,
stand have - many times - clicked into
reetlights, or as my footsteps have
es unwound. Found.
ooking for shelter and I haven't been
re because I want to be here. I like
head: drive, ride, bus it home... home
human and not think of each other.
place. It's not very big, not really,
afely across the daylight-busy tarmac.
- past that, a DIY superstore. Down
a filthy, cobbled road to an ancient
ck squares either end. Park near the
s begin- stop- and then turn and run.
d walk home in the morning mist.
n hour to scribble that. Writing can
first bit though, I think.
ourse. If anything happens on the way,
ng I'm not in Intensive Care.
got something: Chesters. Stuart
ring I bet.
g too. It's because I write, that's
mployed, that's another strong one;
. But there's more... Something I
et. I think perhaps- oh hang on
lked through, staring at me all the
m was... He grunted.
eenage responsibilities such as work,
mainly because I've realised I have
it were). Older readers, or you
r than the majority might have some
ow can I explain?
er the Tunnel and observe people.
to plague and tease, maybe even...
tered through, panting wheezily, eyes
didn't really look at me. Animals
and it's kittens scuttle on past with-
? Oh yeah: myself.
rents about seven months ago, after
ion, which involved my mum and my
) is fifteen; four years younger than
y thing I can do is write short
e either too sick to print or too
ion. This makes me pretty talentless
ired from three jobs since I left the
come to the conclusion that, not only
o unemployable. I take creativity way
glish, the other in Graphics, and on
Not bad for a guy who's ambition used
niversity, not because I wouldn't like
the confidence and don't have any
cational rejects: Gemma Forrest, an
l who has sex with anything in
ing raped (and she was once, as far as
efore you ask); Steven Warwick, a
-crowd layabout who collects billion
got me sussed (but he hasn't); Tim
old who lives with his braindead,
told me this, thinks Manchester's in
because, like Steve, he's very
n of my gory fiction; and lastly,
at the DIY store up on Pellon Lane.
the list: she's become what I would
d younger than me, a late-developer I
looks about twelve) but despite her
nt and mature - she could do a hell of
ill nine hours a day, of that there's
n she's worked a late shift, she comes
me for a while. I enjoy our
ecord the next one down when it
n, just to see what she does. I don't
fore... Though I'm probably wrong.
with her parents in the Canary
a fortnight, so she told me a couple
ave the balls to tell her this but...
her like crazy).
ting very cold. Tomorrow I'll tell you
omise you'll keep reading. I have much
and so much more is going to happen.
d midnight, I stalked two teenage
of their heads and giggling like
he Tunnel they muted themselves for a
hen out it came:
s leave em."
f down the Tunnel.
ault, viciously intensified by the
kind of thing you'd expect might
d in a school classroom when the
etty and scantily dressed, and I
alously, (excitedly?) until they
the Tunnel. Then, I closed my note-
behind to hide in the shadows, and yet
f my shoes to ring as a distant menace
own Crib Lane, kicking each other,
road and back again (one even threw
son their careless, chaotic wandering
pt seeing the desperate faces of
rejected and abused... And my
friend - Karen. `How have you earned
I thought. `Where did you buy your
into being more careful on the
t be evil? Hell, do really, honestly
've put up with a hell of a lot of
out the feelings or opinions of
take unfair advantage of the innocent
already? What gives them the right? A
divine lottery of fate?
runken sniggering and playfighting
not. They increased their speed, kept
d to each other. Head down, I just
Streetlights buzzed. Footsteps
y else was around.
flyover, we were nothing but midges.
the steps would appear that led up to
ad up there, no matter how late the
I had to do it soon. Immediately.
nto a sprint, I noticed the pair had
selves on a low wall. They were
proach like Kittens in a cardboard
own. Passing them wasn't right. What
o, I had to go along with my feelings
stake - if afterwords it felt wrong -
l. Halted. I looked up. The girls
y eyed and shivering. Slowly, quietly,
happened. The three of us stared out
listening to the hum of hidden
r- excitement- rage- the world shook
lode in a fountain of glass. I lashed
laws, raking through hair, splitting
ing trainers. The first shriek of
s. Surely this could not be
ch way round was natural? Not this
aled them in fours, the other
sion sparkling with balls colour, I
ad down, down onto cold brick.
d into her stomach. She gargled,
- the other girl had gone- vanished-
d her, grabbed a breast- squeezed it-
think I said (it's hard to remember).
soul, never never never, or you are
words came out steadily, but in
ng- desirous to rape- to torture- to
ng immoral to this pathetic moth that
til her breast was completely flat
digging into flesh. The girl's eyes
d I felt my other hand fumbling for my
: I was going to- I was going to-
s... And ran. Ran, ran, ran... Where,
ho the hell am I? What gives me the
r tonight, I'd better head home. If
I'm an okay guy, as you'll soon see.
ith me today and added some graffiti
ESS CONFUSION" I wrote... Done all
bbly writing. My A-level in graphic
mes, you know.
graffiti in the Tunnel at this moment
"Moore ON Tour 90", "Smoke POT- it's
z ere", "I love TSO 92" (in jagged
7", "Cheekie Chappies!", and of course
t unoriginal - "Kay&Jonny", complete
ling out from beneath the &.
of Halifax before. I do not feel good
ore... "mine" now. Like an animal
ss or shit or something.
sses walked through the subway after
iece. He was pissed through (it's only
n't look at me at all. He reminded me
rror stories. Strange - maybe he was.
yes won't stay open. This job (job?)
, I'll live. Friday tomorrow, should
ely, Gemma. We'll see.
than usual to catch the drunks as
got kicked once and spat on three
risistible name-calling attacks) but I
heir pathetic and pointless sins one
s at about half past eleven. With no
pproached, I felt my skin dampen: what
t his fuckin homework or summing?"
males swarming her, licking her ears,
ars old and still studying at school.
s frightened of the term "work" and
ropes of higher education for as long
l she expects to use her eventually
no idea. Still, I'm not one to
s. And let's be fair - no matter how
sex, Gemma is still a little girl.
her. The surrounding males barked with
ng hilariously funny. I ignored them
laugh or argue about anything they
ventually) result in them completely
d be bliss.
" Gemma demanded.
chorus and tottered around, waiting
pon hearing my usual, negative
I said with an impatient sigh (the
g of braindead males than for her).
d: obviously I was either stupid or
rowd had calmed, Gemma wormed herself
f me, face gazing into mine.
e to judge girls like that... Smooth
of touching in case it's just make-up
fingers, and beautiful blue eyes...
e, if you stare for long enough.
erior and what've you got? A human
l frighten you.
ised of a short black skirt, a thin
bra through it) and a dark denim
low her hefty chest to poke through.
female and here's the proof"? "Gemma,
silly little girl, I'm just not
s on them for a start.")
t. Opened it again. "Ah, nothing."
d?" That came with a smile.
vel yet?" She's always asking me that
r - according to Gemma - unless he's
book when you start it?"
es had given up on her and drifted on
, but I could see faint shadows waving
the northern box.
a fucking bastard," she muttered.
Why'd you sit under this stupid
" I snapped. "I've told you, I'm not
bugger off with your boyfriends."
y bitch. I can imagine at this stage
the hell my problem is. I ought to
important, my real, inner-feelings
ond with those of Gemma's. Second, I
females that have, for that past three
n pissants from the scummiest depths
ond). Third, I consider myself a very
o ho ho, good joke, right? Right.
m not interested. How many times do I
sh her away and she ended up grabbing
she insisted. "Don't you fucking lie
e more. And then she jumped on me.
re I must admit. Threatened to do it -
but never actually physically thrown
nk of perfume and beer, and as we
, she dug her teeth into my neck. I
f pain to clear a guy's thoughts.
ned round, extracted, pushed, chin up,
, her head between my knees.
gerr... OFF me!"
e juices don't you? Eh?"
u're hurting my ears-"
me spit onto my lips and let it build
ike she was hypnotized.
hed... And fell.
ft slap! on her upper lip. She closed
till unaware of the escape route
erhaps... No. I don't think she wanted
face. She caught it on her cheeks, her
ried to spit back, as if unnaffected.
eyes twinkled... This attack was a
re turned on.
pizza bombshelled her forehead - and
hadows and voices. I clambered off
guely aware of being congratulated by
a first class face-shower.
nds unless my parents are rowing.
eeing Gemma... Head jammed between my
g under the light of the Tunnel.
moths flutter and I wonder... Have
: Sunday - God said - is the day when
ents saying how shit and hopeless
ow magnificent and promising and
is/is going to be? No, probably not.
a manuscript and it was late
in from school and I could hear Mum
g his shoes off before he walking into
topped in the hallway. Mum and Richard
t me. I tiptoed up to the livingroom
you to become like him... Wasting his
ories... REAL career, REAL job...
only glad I was eighteen when I
on; any younger and I might have taken
scaping the house with the bang of the
footsteps were quick. They had to be;
rt, and I was both.
he street. The sky was white, the
[blue?] cars were droning by. "No,
doesn't like me. Hasn't that twigged
as a mistake."
k. "Stu, no! That's not true!"
ven faster. Richard jogged to catch up
snatched away, teeth together. If he
burst into tears too, and then before
Mum at my knees, begging for a
... I'd be right where I was (where
e, house, I mean, Stu, I wanna read
d a moment, thought about apologising,
sh and blood crouched sobbing in the
n I roam the streets alone what am I
he table with Richard what the hell am
wn words published am I supposed to
and throw it away what am I supposed
hat am I supposed to do what am I
have no feelings. Adults are evil in
acts. Be a child and you can pass
t's eyes and it... Hurts. Why else
morning hours writing shit nobody
iting this for ARE my parents. When
weep. Weep weep weep cry burn in Hell
ve done to your own son.
UCK YOU UP THE ARSE
, with no love whatsoever.
atchett. You want monsters and ghosts
l grounds, look up James Herbert or
self many times (nothing wrong with
ur arse down on ice cold stone when
peak and write under the Drug Tunnel
f the overhead lights and the chatter
closer, new questions about horror
l ever read this, because I've done
written with no market in mind, no
als to confine me. And yet my chosen
uge essay? I don't know. I don't give
ere has actually happened, but it's
fictional style; there are self-
mplete with dialogue and
if you look at it that way. I've used
much imagery as I can. You need
ople, not just a block of boring text.
d to understand: feelings, emotions,
e it's worked."
ng dramatic, huh?
cribbling shite for the past few days.
ter, I'm not going to edit anything
with me, you're with my feelings. I
I might slip away like that again.
uch more to tell.
at fun that was. Just when I thought I
anti-skirt, along comes Mr Knowitall
broad spectrum of hatred.
of alcohol. I shuffled away. He
through here without being pissed?
CHRIST: Question of the month.
" He turned away, as if in repulse.
ramental twat: when he first arrives
armless questions. Nice company. Then
my trolley". He proceeds to declare
nd goes on and on and on, until I
or walk off. It's always the same
Surely not. I looked at Steve through
mebody touched you up when-"
u're gonna talk, talk quietly and
your own sick ideas. Understand?"
outh? I haven't got a sister!"
oths. "Something musta happened. This
m did you?"
"FUCK OFF, cunt."
beyond all normality. It's never
erything seems to have really...
since I began this diary. Quite odd,
rest last Friday."
t shag anybody last Friday."
moths as it fluttered against the
until it fell on the floor and began
wasn't so interesting then.
got your dick out and spunked all
I spat in her face, alright? I spat."
g? I felt like repeatedly whacking him
onsciousness, then pissing in his
oing. My teeth scraped together.
ry escape, and a good job it is too;
I really would have repeatedly
d pissed in his mouth: I'm a fucking
your lucky stars I found writing,
Steve whispered, more to himself than
about something. No change there. "You
tu. You've gotta be past fifty to
xperience and all that. You've nothing
He looked at me again, his goatee
onds. "What ever you want to say...
efore. Everything in the world has
that when he first came out with it
got a point I suppose - most things
vered or destroyed. Only the super-
f technology - or the incredibly rich
audible voice in the world.
" I told Steve in an equally soft
e birds. The lights buzzed.
ail. Flicked it. "Why what?"
ut. Why this!" His voice echoed the
ointlessness. Take religions which
xample... Like, say, Christianity.
ble wasn't/weren't willing to accept
existence - so they scribbled down a
(All-Powerful Spirit) being the ruler
r/their blindingly obvious fictional
ons of sad pricks believe in it all.
but then again, isn't everything?)
idea of a young, fairly attractive,
way during the early hours of the
to a notebook for absolutely no reason
sn't fit. And it doesn't fit with
aren, I don't think). There >HAS< to
activity... I've been molested,
he house, shouted at, I'm afraid of
p a whore, I'm attracting my peers'
reasons for my being here is
tended any one of them was true he'd
cracked me. I reckon I'd never see
of his complex jigsaws.
fter my silence. "I'll sort you next
off home. Sure you're not walkin up
gered off down the Tunnel. He came
e the wrong way.
night. A couple of other bodies have
n writing this but to be quite
h attention. Sorry.
n. It wasn't just my knackered brain.
hello, then hello again, then "Gemma,
we?" but she didn't stop, didn't sit
. Not that I had her in the first
e right I suppose.
riend, but she was human... And the
her was roll about on the floor of
ting in her face. What I bastard I am.
f)... I think-
d probably like me to]
im for the past half hour. Haven't
for an alarm installing company, has
ell, when I first met him I admired
saddest, most cornered pissants on the
bastard to boot.
s the only job he can get. He hates it
he has to keep money coming in from
riend pregnant his parents chucked him
t feels like to be chucked out by your
ly one thing in common: they're both
shag like rabbits.
e. They share none of the same
wn the other stands up. Doesn't work,
at? Can he bollocks. The only thing
dick and she's got a fanny. In out in
he hokey cokey and you fuck up your
g anything from our conversation. We
new and old), about books and stories,
I could use in my forthcoming fiction,
mother. "Jobs are okay," I remember
nteresting for the first week or two
e rest of your life."
" was her impatient response --> That,
. Fucking great.
test attractions about becoming a
a "job" as such, there are no set
nd the pay (at least, for your first
sition on the employment market]
thing worth relating.
l, you know. Funny how things can
ravel through the murky teenage
There were times when Tim slapped me
ng myself... And yet he was sat here
watch] chatting to me like we've
ck horror story I'd written myself out
and gob-dropped class, Tim got great
e as a punch-bag. After "Bleeding
e started talking to me about horror
asked me one strange and bitterly
reply [it had to be a trick]. As it
ious. We became good mates. He even
d to ask him why he'd punched the shit
. Fascinated me, it did, how anybody
ld-invented fiction and turn from bad
a fuck - and still doesn't to this
c bastard when everything's boiled
why I hang out in the Tunnel for so
's blind to the fact that he's partly
thdrawn childhood was panel-beaten
people like him. Every slap, every
use ----> it's all still in me, some-
a life-scarring trauma - many people
ame kind of thing, and far worse - but
just cannot see it.
pent my childhood thinking about
ing them down as incidents in stories,
e diary of a murderer instead of a
Tim likes my fiction: with out it, he
o use his own description) --> stuck
r dead, perhaps: me, his Frankensteins
Dim. He's average company, and - I
he's not the kind of guy to spice up
ave reacted to my often bizzare and
ace at which you regularly spend time
school, the local library, your
re is bound to crop up sooner or
lone on that one.
aken it's time appearing in my dreams.
myself sitting in a mind-rendered
ains moths which have my "friends'"
there's a reason).
s sat cross-legged in the middle of
f a lighter (up-down) between my eyes.
ompletely naked - and there were three
parked in a neat line just ahead of
ones, and wrapped around each was a
t, and a picture of a sky-blue car
veral times, which is why I went into
ngworth this morning and bought myself
e going into supermarkets - they're
rainwashing deathtrap, full of stuck
nd, though nobody seems to notice,
- rattling and scuttling and nibbling
ock-racks. But I'll tell you about
tail World in general - another time.
ant things to discuss).
f course, paid a visit to the "Wines &
horror!' guess what I found...
to know the wine is the exact same
k before he popped his cloggs, hence
been on a hectic fishing trip and
rreal dreamscape which I am now - on
ically reacting to.
empty. A good excuse to down the wine
cost me nearly a month's dole). Right
g away beneath an off-putting thorne
ound they're gonna get found, but
tention the average by-the-side-of-the
here and the path's sacred: if you
, deep shit. Yeah, right).
ll of the Tunnel, just like the one I
r back at school. Only better - and
tion. Why? It's only a horse with a
ntastic about that? What makes it so
hing. Nothing except the way it looks.
and walked naked through the Tunnel.
eird, almost painful `prickling'
ased those teenage girls a while ago
ly hard and cold against my skin.
noise of occasional vehicles made me
turbated, then got dressed. Nobody
never do that again. I don't feel
. I think it'll be worth keeping you
ine. There must be a reason for it.
d as you when/if I find out).
Peeping Tom today (I'm not only
, you know - I'm squeezing out some
urprised, but I feel disappointed,
rd to handle when I was attending the
months ago (before it closed down due
p was one of the few "clubs" I've ever
ls concerning writer's groups: one or
als can dominate and even destroy what
and healthy workshop; they can become
simply writing to and for each other;
entionally) hostile and off-putting to
ust too "nice" (any work read out
m around the table).
seem to be heading off in any of these
reading out my, shall we say "sicker"
esponses to the set tasks.
alone the workshop seemed like heaven
hrough the door was met by a huge
riter! Yes! It was as though I had at
to keep in touch by sending mail to
e few people who regularly attended,
n't nullified by a workshop, or taken
g else for that matter. They're just
think I'll ever understand why a
happenings) can possibly be rejected
yle, badly laid out manuscript, some-
pieces floating around, plus a full
er more than three months ago called
he novel: he reckons it kicks the shit
on today's market, but what the hell
an get a book published. Not anymore,
ght & name-based. Too commercial.
m competitions because of the language
n my eyes this sucks: where's the
kled old fuckstains who haven't a clue
iction = modern language, you prune-
hat twigged yet? Just because I don't
ed's tea & biscuit party doesn't mean
is all rejected, that's it. No more
ore attempts at "breaking through".
on, the best work I've ever done, so
m that, hell, why dream of
e talent, I know I don't. I think too
hrough the Tunnel tonight. So I've
their homes more vunerable? At night
lock up at night - some even alarm
ay, anybody could open the front door
r thoughts intact makes you realise
mebody insane - me perhaps? - to walk
andom, to open a front door, it
side, to close up behind, to creep, to
elf-analysis aren't I? Not to mention
pages. I don't know whether that's a
ooked at writing as a form of therapy,
lready said a lot of what I'm writing
y book, Psychotic Dreams.
ht as well tell you a little about
, if it does get accepted for
ny edits and additions and God-knows-
much point taking a week or so out
unding name - Psychotic Dreams is
ut, so why fuss?]
alf-autobiographical; after over-
h my brother, I went into suicide-mode
ral different ways.
People think teenagers are perfectly
-destructive phase. It's just standard
o kill yourself did you? What
u?' On the surface - to the outside
l. Maybe it is trivial, or something
n a death occurs is it? It's not so
is torn to emotional shreds. If, on
t to suicide, think about that one.
o a great, chain-reacting power. A
wer. A power that, once freed, can
omising book about the confessions of
short urban life has been one of abuse
d dreams are his only escape from a
ntally raped him of all forms of
e escapes... And learns to solidify
feeble threads of hope remain, only to
the outside world. He decides to
psychotic, perverted fantasies --->
Murder. Animal cruelty. Child sex.
ds like it ought to be banned, it
and perhaps it is... But it was either
In another, I don't think I want her
gain. Something's gone wrong. Some-
ly gone wrong.
ir bodies seem thicker. Their heads...
er, they're just... More defined.
. The clatter of Gemma.
oo weary to write.
o no... Wasn't Gemma. Was Dianne.
ands in pockets. Shivering I think...
through clouds of supergiant moths. I
k in lap, pen pointed at the roof, and
ice versa as she came out of the
e vandalpattern wall opposite. Her
Giant wing shadows spun webs across
s she said, "Please... I need to know
innocent voice. My book eased
- shivering and breathless - as I rose
air and the Tunnel bugs from my skin.
guy- who- like-"
ntentionally threatening. I was the
es. Tendrils of smoke rising from my
rl shifted her feet. Scratched an
ips with her tongue.
ht furiously. `I want to steal you
auty into a thousand pieces. Girl girl
emember, if- if you-" She took a deep,
yself whisper. A strong, confident,
n't give me your shit, Chesters, you
ed with streaks of red desperation,
ed, she fell- "Why am I pregnant why
pty as a perfect vaccum. My heart.
ow many times must I scribble bull-
is insane mothnest? Here, on the floor
onesense reality of truth.
page after page of pathetic lies]
didn't..." I crouched, made as if to
dles, no words of comfort, no escort
ss ice hung forever between us.
ntasies and ruthless riddle-thought.
terness of drink and an invisible
aty teenage male, asleep from
with the flicker of TV in his closed
ing colourful wordshit smeared across
into the Tunnel through the northern
then slow, staring as he passed.
doing out here you two friends? or
n the wind].
her, smiling a true smile. Her eyes
ng blind, charcoaling speech. What
the sound of a petrified lifeform,
eabouts, it's own jarred existence.
ild I was confused just confused
d her upper legs, her stomach, between
T THE THOUGHTS I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO
N YOU SAW HER LEGS]
"Not me, never... I would never do
lacked out for a few seconds. Went
l- did some... Things. But never, I
perhaps you aren't, perhaps it's just
s instantly triggered nightmare had
a mistake. I grinned when I realized
nger be an all-destroying sea of dark
d reading the walls. "Cath & Kim",
e": the marks of a hundred people
"Stu & Dianne", I thought of
lood, or when normality crept back...
ild. Run. Run like the wind!]
wobbled across the floor, climbing to
scraper. "Bye." She waved.
d come back if you want to talk," I
ern box in silence, like a traveller
- back to her own, alien universe.
does the same; from the moment they
ay into the darkness, they are in MY
e slice of this rotten, battered
, not yours]
can't write anymore. I'll be better
I wouldn't. There's more good in me
y thing "wrong" with me. You try
ry night. It soon gets to you.
ore. Sometimes I think it's better to
an try to write them down... Ah I
g? I can't I can't I can't.
last entry was a bastard to write.
he beginning of this diary, I never
a visit from each of my "friends" and
- prose as a result of Karen's return
ting). I mean come on, I've lingered
e bowl of a toilet for nearly a whole
. Very little outside, anyway. In my
ection here between reacting to the
rything down as it goes on. If I don't
te? I'll be buggered if I know. I'm
visit, so there's little I can tell
ng herself sorted, or in so much of a
t(s) I've become the last person on
er my name. I know that wasn't perhaps
sword - "Here Dianne, kill me! Kill me
lso gave her my trust. And I ask you,
ht. She left the Tunnel two days ago
Steve Country - but it's taken until
me through here. Sometimes many nights
ngle soul. Oh, cars drift by up on the
.. But very often, nobody comes.
etely empty. I'll start on the last
're for... But when the vehicles above
p glancing at that strange blue-car
. Cars disturb them, make them shoot
e concrete like ping-pong balls in
like cars either.
o sign of Dianne. Or Karen. Or anybody
was so full of drunks I didn't spend
want to get into any shit, not after
ically tonight, like there's some kind
hing. The lighter: perhaps it's a tool
Jeez. They'd no longer be moths of
terally. Sounds like good fun.
st've arrived late, or taken the day
she will be back (hopefully)... God I
resent really stem from the past, or
based on the logic of time?
a "traumatic/damaging experience" has
a brief (and, perhaps more import-
al rejection... There are none of
d in the deepest chasms of my brain,
o, none of that.
eing honest? Well... Who am I writing
ibly non-existant audience... Or just
y parents and brother. If they're the
accept it... But... Is it possible to
r extreme lengths of time due to the
curtain" (temporary mental illness?)
ie has become the truth: I sincerely
ing that nothing "traumatic" has
this means, if I am lying to myself,
ever it is that DID happen.
What about Karen? No.... Neither of
t least, not that I know of.
at they do? Are the attributes "good"
anet, every human being is "neutral"
ssive, aggressive genes)... ie:
there must be a certain age - perhaps
ringing (nurture, basically) - at
ly - or consciously? - "decides"
s situated more towards "good" than
g point...? Or is it winging up and
mood? Is this state of imbalance any
this "neutral point" found? Who is to
Am I tottering around on this line
on't know what, but something is. This
t all for anything.
ing is predefined by no-"
rrow, when I hope I'll be able to tell
juion with Karen.
, my friends, for Sunday is the day
and fuck all will happen to anybody."
arlier than usual. It's still daylight
instead of black ones... Just bigger
r... Not yet. I never see them arrive.
the next- POOMF! the air is alive with
dust. Where do they come from?
n) pass through at this kind of hour.
ing at me as per usual. They're afraid
, you know. Can't be sure of course,
come wandering in through a black box,
olice can't enter this dimension).
a rape or a murder down here wouldn't
ice station. Ha! Blind bastards...
Blind what ever they do. Hell,
some wine. Come on Kaz...
Dianne just then. I was scribbling
saw a shadow in the nothern box. As
adow and the feeling of being watched
ed like her, it did, I swear to God it
re of course.
arge dog. Came half-way into the
up! What the fuck am I hanging about
for what a BITCH! Fuck fuck fuck fuck
ck fuck fuck fuck fuck f
ast night. Shame you can't erase ink
ight (this morning, rather)... Him and
the piss out of me, of course. Got me
y uptight ---> Hell, you know the
feel as if I'm being dragged too close
whatever that might entail). Am I
ask stupid questions, forgive me: I
things that matter, and even then I
tting I've become a very lonely and
't mind admitting it's not my fault.
erybody else did. Where's the wrong in
fingers and grow up?
ow much more?
rive at thirteen; I got laid when I
when my "mates" were still having
ies - it's not my fault, okay? IT'S
to get anywhere in life? Hell, DO you
tream, or is that yet another fucking
on. What is normal? Is normal wanting
se, a rosy garden, a handful of kids,
l? Stop coming to this place? Stop
. Perhaps I'm a cut above the rest. I
of nightclubbing, girlhunting,
ny other multi-named activities
ple. I'm happy... And yet not happy...
urned up and as confused as buggery,
makes you want to spit; nightclubs are
n faces when you first walk in through
s never quite what you dreamt it would
I have plenty of that]
oking good in your mate's eyes. But
lf, now. Who would understand and who
nly, unexplainably found yourself in
e attractive to our eye-
urselves are most important-
u say otherwise-
es. I've never noticed before. A
ng beside the head of my unicorn. I
ere they are now? S'nothing on the
nger them out, obliterating the memory
in a dream? Did the moths do
don't like what she said at all.
D CHESTERS FUCK THE BITCH]
u remember who they all are?
. This isn't a book. There is no plot.
ing: I can remind you when ever I
ine" of my world. You need to know
in reason this diary exists.
er over all. Even love. When misused,
. Both can of course be illusionary...
, therefore so often a cheap, pathetic
'll ever whisper that to her. Why say
ales my age would not look twice at
n and rejection in her greenblue eyes.
image of the crystal clear perfection
by the present youth population. If
won't have anything at all. If what
ye, they won't have anything at all.
ningly attractive by several members
attractive members of the opposite
? Good? Important? Special?
isements on TV declare: if you're in
control of your life. But looks are
gh a beauty catalogue prior to being
at we must naturally keep. Forever.
ception, perhaps. Because I show no
lf attracted to me: it's NOT the way
challenge for her. She believes I'm
And I believe - in many ways - I'm
my eyes slide down her body as she
nse holds me back.
tted to Gemma?
f company, I respect the girl. But I
way she talks. I don't like the way
ishness, her ignorance, her periodic
to be sexually involved with her. When
st laughed: I was nothing, nothing at
nobody knew my name: that's all that
moderate success as a writer and saw
in the shadows, did she allow me to
der of expectation.
ix down here. I'm no longer asleep.
sy little peer-tides. No, kiddo: I'm
st a skinny white twig of a child -
l Decision: the Eleven Plus Year. It'd
d her back then - I didn't of course -
but she still caught my eye; I don't
impossible to imagine I could feel so
en and I would meet again and become
n friends destined to fall in love
lly don't know.
nt to a rough school called Holmfield
stroll from where I still live to
en passed the all-important test (or
when I got offered a place at sixth
cted school called North Halifax
ear there... And yet physically she
uppose it happens sometimes. Boys and
ean she had no tits whatsoever, not
first exchanged words with Karen. She
, studing God-knows-what in the
picked up a book at random ("Human
, chose another) and wandered over to
med down she jumped and I apologised.
nd if I sit here?"
t and staring, as if her brain had hit
ough it's filing cabinets. When her
she'd found me. You can't forget some
to them. You just can't.
nd a few hellos in the corridors for
n I got the piss taken out of me for
urth year tart" so for a while
did my best to avoid contact with
I didn't understand the appalling
t, frenetic talker, something which
ng with her. Throughout her childhood
like me, a very minor amount of true,
oes talk very quickly (and she'll be
as a voice I find... Wonderful. Just
ve sixth form, we'd become very good
er with our homework down the deserted
after school (Karen doesn't live very
out my writing and she showed great
gestions for a few (admittedly
tted down simply because she'd been
nk it was just a teenage fetish - when
ame a fantastic legend.
my manuscripts to read - beginning,
and building up to my more intense,
the time I left school we were ready
neither of us poured anything out. One
in the direction of partners and
thered up enough confidence to direct
at shame, because I think we're STILL
never look at or desire any other
ke my perfect partner. Another stupid
if I masturbated over a girl I knew
ut with" with that girl - it was the
good, "existing-person" wank. By the
form I'll bet there was only Gemma and
ff my list... It was as though I was
ing "no, I won't jack off over you
ed and hormones under control, I'm not
s. When you're shuffling up through
a girl becomes the most important
ist, way above exams - but now?
t in the schoolboy kind of way. But...
eam she must must must be mine.
nnel earlier this year, and stopped
ach other for about five months, so
o the night. I walked her home: one of
ve ever had. Company, that's all she
ft at eight o'clock, and either runs
es to the Tunnel and talks to me until
her bus due. I hate all vehicles
ink I've said before, but in Karen's
transport is quite understandable:
cash till, I don't think I'd be up to
Karen and I hugged for the first time
rms, like I could crush her if I put
ssure. This, I fully expected: her
kes her precious to me... Like a rare
being destroyed - ruined - by the
ngers. I was as gentle as I have been
and this pleased me. I think a kiss
y nose against her cheek, but alas, we
own opposite each other on the floor
in hand, Karen with a bright yellow
ume, nothing but her usual, empty
d, not caring much; she shouldn't have
n huge deserts all over the island,"
a like the Sahara, only not as hot or
was fuckin cool, yeah. Like- really
in my book. Waited. Glanced. Her eyes
dore. She has a way of looking at me -
look - which I find mysteriously
ing. Those who believe personality is
ly "eject" from a person and "insert"
every twitch, every move, EVERYTHING
ting this entry for two and a quarter
nything about Karen. She borders on
ough description of her appearance? A
nd motivations? I could give you each,
d and observe: it's by far the best
and analysis in today's society. Hell,
in this bastard diary]
d and tossed a small, shiny keyring
rled it through my fingers. It was
d a picture of a beach at sunset and
colourfully inside. "I know it's not
I had hardly any money and my mum
h I begged. I saw this fuckin ace hat
se cool serpents kinda curlin round
nly I couldn't afford so I got you a
you think? I think it's nice."
ng that didn't sound too much like
ant to be: I still treasure Karen's
kin freezing." I laughed too. "Of
, you could fry an egg on the floor.
ry an egg on the floor cos it'd get
l, I suppose it would."
yeah, so anyway... I went swimming in
ecause the sand kinda sloped down
re it started you know? Only this
or maybe German... But I think he was
to me and helped me swim back to the
s cool twisty kinda dive-thing and
out her obviously much-enjoyed
he sound of her amazing child-woman
e point in recalling every event.
han usual, and I looked up from a
g in my book as I listened. But Karen
p, and didn't look like she was going
'll tell you next time, maybe."
. Hey, have you written any more
eagerly, ignoring her question.
e you got anythin for me to read or
tories and your book and stuff?"
n't actually believe I'm gonna get a
you? They won't write back Karen, they
a dumb teenager."
't know you're a teenager."
n. They will. I'm not experienced
she yelled, echoing the Tunnel. The
fuckin negative all the time okay?
be positive. They WILL reply because I
t... Anyway," She stood and looked
or I'll miss my bus. S'been nice.
who's this somebody you met?"
de. "What- you met a bloke out there?"
orget it!" she began to walk away.
my wrist has gone numb I will see you
rmed up. Here's something I haven't
where Karen works. It was my second
Person (my first being at a branch of
e people there were so stuck up I quit
lasted about a month, working after-
the first week I thought it was okay -
shivers up my spine - and then a new
everything went haywire.
d, the way I looked, the way I stacked
ld my fucking pencil. In the end I
stupid fat arse and left - setting
the warehouse alight on my way home.
whilst I'm on the subject, lasted just
ary position with a re-vamp crew who
f a massive new supermarket just out
hifts which is how I came to find this
t it just wasn't for me: I got
ple of tools (I never was any good at
spread by the gaffer himself - the
girlie bastard. I thought that kind
it's ugly head in school playgrounds.
lly mad and trashed the half-
down shelves and cupboards and
s showed up when I'd done, narrow-eyed
ell do you think you're doing?" he
bizzare (and horribly self-indulgent)
ld's next Stephen King and that one
n WHSmiths with a copy of my latest
s for a signature. Of course, the guy
orted to a loud "Go home and fuck your
QUIT you fat cunt!" before he could
uck. They drain your life away like
mpany's lips by some kinda gigantic,
g. I call it the Vortex
ally polite lady in a fur coat just
i!" in a gorgeously cheerful and
ODD? Sorry about this. Let me pick
on't like about Karen is her apparent
four months of full-time work I think
toms. Extended chat (yes, even for
ling products, barcodes and prices is
efore she went on holiday she was
derful things we used to talk about -
going to change the world... Nothing
anymore. I gave her a redraft of the
s - she took it home and brought it
y lied that she'd read it. I know
d the new nightmare sequence' I'd put
nderful'... Only I hadn't written a
course (though I often wonder if
night but it doesn't look like it (the
ne). I'm surprised none of my other
ntly... Tim, Steve, Gemma... er...
What a fucking popular guy I am.
met some dark, handsome bloke whilst
o bed with him. If that's the case I'm
al experience is okay (I got mine from
was eleven, believe it or not) but
anything long-term... Surely, please
on today. An unwelcome black figure
I hate that dump... The moment I
utomatic doors, it brought the few
slave-employment I'd spent there
o much memory; it's not like I could
ace had been entirely revamped with
w staff. I think it was just...
weren't as many as there was when I
hey were still around alright: I
stards behind the lawnmower displays -
scuttling like giant black crickets,
s. I don't know what they do, what
just suck up the dust, but they
ell how big they are because they're
ouldn't be surprised if - out in the
ce as your average cat.
rs... But there are no moths in Retail
n't see me until I'd finished my
her counter, folded my arms and
o her neighbour and turned to face me,
hat the fuck're YOU doin here?"
it look like?" I said.
onger, as if she couldn't quite grasp
right in front of her, in the fucking
looked at the stuff I intended to buy
yes at me: "What's the fuckin rope
d rubbish bags... Do you?"
d, whisking my head round. "Argue with
ere's the manager, do you mind if I
ked annoyed. Good.
, avoiding the queue simply because
things about looking like an insane
ity of Dis is that most people tend to
ok like death at the moment.
's what they call em, no shit) and
. Her till bleeped.
w what you're doing... But..."
that's what I'm doing."
." She looked at me, seriously. Karen
if she tries, but it's a rare and
her more convincing attempts. I gave
beneath the counter and flopped it
anned the rope through. I bagged it
e sixty nine... Stu-u?"
fiver. She took it. "See ya later
r- change and recipt- Stu, will you be
nt me to come down and talk... Stu
doors cut me off from her beautiful,
usting, colourful, Bug-infested world
ty. The moths are big big big. And
ead in his wobbly, drunken state. The
was clouding like exhaust fumes, his
d... Strangely fatter than usual. And
yes, this was TV influence at it's
d your brother?" - That before he'd
e an answer." He collapsed beside me,
corner of his mouth.
something in my notebook. "Three
Steve bolted upright. "You made a
dn't. How did your parents react to
nce said to his son. `Very
h things tonight, Steve," I said and
m very tired."
subject slightly, say something
did I tell you?)
rty habit, right?"
ause nobody has ever offered me a
fucking dick,' I thought, but
ame, just to see where it all ended
nts Love Your Brother More Than You'
I'd cope... For the first time ever,
d actually done some serious research
rhaps spoken to Richard, or even Mum.
hat serious about (excuse the
d, holding his fag out.
surprise, and stubbed it out on the
d out of his nut to realise what I'd
is lips, found nothing there, flopped
ore than she loves you," He said in a
been rehersing that line since he got
here," He watched the moths for a
hit the nail more-or-less on the head
lusion he deserved a respectful
bal bombardment. By not answering, I
f his suspicions either. Perhaps he'd
nother idea, thinking this one had
n withus?" He blurted suddenly. I
ered, crawling for the southern box.
one who `wins' the next time Steve
es yes indeed). But we'll see.
nt most of the day wandering rather
ng though - there's always people and
doodles... And then suddenly I'm
the observer. Being scrutinized and
sat down beside me, peering inquisi-
red. "You paintin things?" She
and diagrams I'd been doing. "Can I
oceeded to draw a surprisingly
Suddenly she stopped and looked at me
er? How can you make pictures with no
consider a response, a sharp female
h, what've I told you about talkin
scampered hastily towards the source
rp slap and a muffled yelp echoed
n footsteps receded.
y, please - come and put the colours
o keep domestic bollocks out of this
oon, I won't have any choice but to
r my parents WILL find this place...
this piece of work, this study of
I am. I've seen him strolling round
lute stuck-up bitch of a girlfriend.
y are at the moment (ie: nothing is
ll be seriously `in the shit' when he
dering into my lair.
t, I'll undoubtedly KILL the
Mum and Dad, why don't you just come
t you just bring your shitty little
come on come on come on come on come
out. Patience is the key, I think.
t when they've nothing better to do
ikely ever to return.
explaining. I reckon one of my
g mosaic tiles have fallen away in the
coincidence of course, but it's quite
y heard one of the fragments fall out
ago, but I'll be fucked if I can find
I'm not too keen on hanging around
E bastard would turn up.
night. That's a long way for you,
way. Much better to get a car and
get a life, get grown-up.
utes to walk - not run, jog, sprint,
ke - all the way back home, from the
w to fall back into my own chaotic
lot like trying to fall asleep: the
er is never remembered, never quite
alk to and from this place - it takes
nutes to quite literally "leave myself
sely I really believe I'm somewhere
I dunno, I dunno what/where it is.
n minutes, I'm not sure, I CAN'T be
urself occupied while walking to a
course, to simply observe your
- the people, the activities, the
attraction of walking in the first
acks to these `normal' methods if the
regular (or both).
bad idea during the daytime, but at
your ears to function as they should
et's kick his head in nick it", etc).
imagined small goblin-type creatures
p myself occupied. These ugly monsters
the aircraft. Destination Tunnel. Or
give them weather reports, ETA's,
attractions with my imaginary
out the menu... Anything to keep the
ing round in my fucked up brain, I
isten to music, I can't enjoy the
I know it all too well. The only
o... Fucking intensely... I feel to
lot and cross over to a strange,
strongest "body leave" I've ever had.
Illingworth? Yes Illingworth!---
Jesus I'm back home. Stop at the
ened, scratch head, glance at watch
ravel" shit could really be something
creased my physical fitness - Jesus, I
it's just the repetitiveness that's
just been on through. Isn't that nice
er to call in and see me?
id in a thin voice and sat down
and sighed as she rummaged through
small piece of lined A4 with a few
me, just offered it. I paused before
're jealous I met somebody."
em okay," She rattled the sheet of
e fucking poem, read it, go on." Her
t word: I thought she was going to
at her for a while to see if it would
.. But they didn't. She started biting
s spin round and round
inside my head
id I let you down
tless thing I said
es I watch the birds
dreams I fly
ht, beyond the hills
re by your side
moment. Folded it up. Gave it back to
ar I did, I wrote it." She gasped.
ed I take it back. I looked at the
t, I did take it back. And I smiled
her short little skirt down, giving me
YOU WANT THOSE OFF]
slid my notebook back into
en to ME Mr Nice Guy Chesters," Karen
"You may think you're some kind of
'll tell you now, you're fucking NOT
nk it, but you're NOT. You thought
dn't you? Nobody at all. And now some-
're fuckin jealous aren'tcha. Well
a shaky breath. "The boy... The man I
- dream come true, do you see what I'm
EVER had come true. I want to be with
ou too, because you're my best friend,
king it so fuckin hard... You're
y don't you just say you're jealous,
know where we fuckin stand, just say
creamed at her and threw my book down
CK HER SENSELESS. *KILL* HER *NOW*
T DO IT DO IT--]
," she whispered. "Okay, I'm going,
turned and began to walk away. Her
gooseflesh. She started weeping...
into the night.
soft and stupid laugh.
book to write this entry, I found a
sdays, they've always-
r yesterday didn't you? Well forget
e going after people. I'm sick of it.
ho has to hang on tightly to the
* the one, always, I'm treated like
up with it all. Well bollocks.
ast night's little episode with Karen.
he northern box. Just a shadow-curve.
s I put these words down. Her fingers
d- she just peeped- what shall I do?
shall I do?]
shadow slid away. S'gone now, and I
catch her. Perhaps she's a ghost. A
't know... Hell, maybe it's not Dianne
here, up in my head... But I don't
e rounded... Stomach-curve?
ories with real terror in them down
m having now: a sort of skin-tingling,
e inside with cold needles. The whole
when I'm scared. Like seeing it under
polypropylene rope. A bundle of
ottles. A cigarette lighter. A healthy
d moths. Buzzing lights that don't
ite mosaic stones; icy and tiny and
a new crack in the wall beside the
ean seriously, just what the fuck am I
there. Huddled up near the southern
ntil my footsteps began to echo.
ted. She didn't take any notice: with
sharp breath, she was up, backing
't chase her - you know as well as I
ing to today's entry.
night. I got a rejection slip today,
ror story compendium being launched
y mum's been getting on my tits all
sing about on my computer without
drop of writing... Or anything else
tive, I MUST. I don't know who I am,
st find out.
dn't stop for a chat. He was with a
iss, as per usual.
arse of the scruffy one,"
ds the same in here.
eave him alone," - Jee, some defence
original insults out - I get most of
ogue by listening to Tim's mates
ome of it's hilarious. Tonight I've
"spermy bullethole", "cockwash",
and "maggot man" - although, glancing
Jotter (a converted telephone book), I
l just scrub that out. Yup, done.
shed, I received (from Tim obviously)
ny More Stories Published?' but on
swering ----> (a) it didn't even
f Tim Nice But Dim really wanted an
on back in here and repeated himself.
s isn't it? Can't you see it? I can
s bright as a cock in a mousetrap:
em. They don't care about me, or each
wave of sub/urban youth. Everything's
Making it extinct. And hope, don't
aha. Oh yeah, I still have hope. I
gured out... Whatever it is I've got
le fragile ex-schoolboys keep coming
the other day was pretty harsh. Not a
anywhere. In fact, it seems to me
usly put me off the writing business
ons hurt these days - a hell of a lot
lifax Workshop period - but stuff of
discouraging nature, really does get
on - publishes horror/fantasy of any
ll consider material of "any horrific
to the guidelines. And yet they don't
ey won't have it. Won't tolerate it.
to write modern fiction without using
an equally as insulting letter. Would
ey stop, five lines into it, and just
away? Why can't writers and editors
hey join up and attempt to understand
by the word `fuck'? Why do you find
tion of four letters and roughly means
bite you know! I mean... Why do you
ut the entire population of this
r fucking basis, too?
as `fuck' into my prose just for the
hink, you're very wrong indeed. I
ng writers - about the present,
matter what their age, background or
ld call `bad language' or `swearing',
lot, in fact.
essmen talking in the street? Have
rguing in the playground? There is no
afraid. It's one of those small
hat simply must be accepted.
? Not even if it soon becomes, as I
exible replacement for the commonly
y' or `bleeding'?
n. Until then, please cancel my
king shitty little 'zine.
somebody walked through: a black man
different visions, same moths,
t of my thoughts, half-asleep-
ve to tell you:
man with a box of tools sauntered up
ow the flyover. The advert it
romantic film - was way out of date,
dozens of felt-tip and spraycan
g, watching, smiling, unseen in the
th his work. He packed up his tools
of my Tunnel.
nt towards him - so pathetically blank
dy be normal down here in the misty
rk - and found I was looking into...
backing. Empty, bottomless, looking
ed back. Pushed me out, sucked me in.
ilence, pain. My fist hit it,
he all over. Nausea washed over me. My
people passed. Avoiding me.
icker, but what does it matter?
d I spit- as the events of the non-
ng back in a rush of blood and
w-white flame of a cigarette lighter,
The moths have appeared as they
eyond the thought of burning them
rning this book for all the bitter
also consider self-combustion.
as the weather in this industrial
usly swing when self-discussed. They
ishing nets... Try to scrape me back
le, divine punishment I'm not quite
drum- I HAVE thought- I HAVE thought-
mind has CRACKED-]
nywhere in this town - and listen to
ace is alive, this place is living,
creating and destroying mutant moths,
ain, it's spinal cord, it's lover and
(soon) will CLICK.
nd wait - my unassigned tools buried
and scribble as always, popping my
swimmers in the social seas... And
he moths dance and the shadows of
the lights buzz (like the growlnoise
I run my fingers across my skin and
f a man but the skin of a shark, a
another chunk of the mosaic unlodge
p at lightening speed, but, as always,
trace of fallen stone.
now we have a T ladies and gents. A
d happen today, something that could
you can read this. I dont like
rom the bedroom window! Arrived beside
onsumed by a cold, cloudy darkness,
, as the woman who'd given birth to me
! - rid her home of every trace of a
ver said that before,
thered about me using language like
condemned it. Still, she shouldn't
n my quilt, should she? Not at half
G on the day God told us all to
it lad, cool it. Play back the tape,
it's something special, something
N'T DO. Okay, okay, here goes.
Let go now."
l around. Fishcirclemouths, but no
down in an explosion of glass and
watched the shining dice bounce and
owers and weeds in its path, until it
silent and the front door was locked.
clothes and walked away.
in your heart?
efore because you've suddenly become
e leader, the piper, the freeman... A
landscape of a planet you arrived on
ost awkward customers.
passionate moment between two randy
neccessary precautions. Lumbered with
cking damnation by a mother obsessed
TCH! FUCKING BITCH BITCH BITCH BITCH
r like a product in a supermarket. I'm
school I attended, a brick in their
"). I'm a human doormat for lazy,
I'm judged by others via a physical
a non-existant God. Trapped in a
streets of this doomed planet, with no
Listening to an abnormal heart-beat.
world war - an end to the suffering
a selfish species that does not
te of time and matter. But there is a
rely-obtained power, offered by true -
rt of this is escape from pressure.
el. And another part is certainty -
into the Tunnel.
Fed to good... Fed to evil... what?
oin dreams. Link worlds. Funny how the
me a gentle, cosy bedbeater what? I
r any of life's domestic requirements
'm at now what?
e why don't you just speak louder, I
ether I suppose I'd better go and take
them, I dunno, tink them. The walls
s that mean I'm cracking too? And why
today compared to every other day
umbled bit beside my unicorn where the
cold and I'm terrified because I've
eless, but I'm alright.
aren't particularly comforting
me over the past few weeks I think
eria, so I'm not gonna panic. If this
ay, I'm gonna let it say it. I'm not
to run! SHI T FU c
ight. If you scribble shite like that
in deep shit: this diary IS you, boy.
ed in the shape of four letters. I
the blurry, messy, anger - I must have
make sense of things - well, better
he evidence right up front, right
re! Right there!
14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 21 22 23 24 25
re shit. Shit
one thing - all fucking day is quite
me. I've spent a hell of a lot of time
y very exciting - I must have looked
imes since the start of the year, and
t I'll be fucked if I'm gonna sit down
onday afternoon, soaking up abuse from
homeless! I've got a home! - and it's
u're walking, DICKWEEDS.
at the fuck is happening I don't
s to call. I have some change and I
from the dole office but I'm due for
CKING WEEK what am I going to do
night, darling. I am hoping they'll
able, supper's in the oven, there's
ave a nice family get-together
alked up and down the Tunnel twenty
five minutes. What the fuck am I
should go back and talk to Mum and
ads of friends - loads of writing
still going; the writer's group -
stopped did I? Why Stu? Because you
actually doing >> FUCK ALL << down
ubway? O fucking great, as if she's
t fucking great, I'm stuck here in
and put the colours in now, I would
oh please put the colours in
d note in my hand.
making this up, and I'm- I swear that
just happened. The words - STAy - are
ing them... But I feel like laughing,
ern box - Dianne I mean. She actually
her stomach, come to think of it, she
s, and it frightens me because I
n't, and SHE knows I didn't, but I
she waved; she said come on over here
ee you. A couple of little guys.
definitely what she said, exactly
d her voice didn't echo. It was really
elling through some other... Thing,
t explain it.
mb I couldn't feel it when I touched
down the Tunnel towards her, looking
g why suddenly it was all so big and
and then she slipped out of the box
ing "Dianne, wait! Hang on!" - only my
just like normal, so I'm not sure if
into the metal fence that boxes off
s really do take a while to get
know, and for a while I couldn't hear
night or anything - anything at all -
se ever-buzzing (ever-living?) lights.
body shouted. I turned round, stared
saw was a short, scruffy tube, which
ted chunk of the London Underground.
a goblin, sat precariously (with it's
mouth) on the fence I'd just crashed
oat. I couldn't make a sound, never
ike a fuckin dog turd with arms and
gar bouncing in it's mouth. "Hey,
seen me before. Something wrong?"
yes that's right, you read correctly
blins I used to offer a lift to. The
poke out of my coat pocket on the
an American accent, oddly enough) how
made, and that he wanted a FUCKING
me FUCKING kip (only my coat doesn't
m that but (shit no) he didn't
like a blown-up paper bag and dressed
d with silver studs, rather like the
res dressed up in - whip in one hand,
mbered him alright. The only thing I
d little twat's name.
ailable right now," I knew what he was
ant a lift. Well fuck you, gobb-o, I
o more. Been chucked out, didn'tcha
itching bastarding cunting mother.
your mam would dump you out on the
d the goblin, edging around on the
o fuckin shitniggle like that stop ya
He snatched his cigar out and pointed
something. "I got urgent business to
just a coupla human footsteps short've
w where that dump is don'tcha?"
n produced the ten pound note that now
e pages of this diary. "Ten fuckin
you've made every fuckin night since
ucker. Think about it, Chesters." The
his standards). "Whatchoo gonna do
EAT? You gotcha self a Tunnel, yeah,
he fuckin package. If you wanna keep
in to your bones, you'd better start
the little cunt's name.
of it that easy, Chesters," The cigar
as this time pointed downhill. He
`shift yourself,' "Five for me, five
hat's the deal."
looked down. There was another
ed in the brightly illuminated
ilhouette, like the shadow of a badly
hink about it," I said reluctantly.
t Magnus. "Did you hear-" But he was
me to take. "Thanks," I snatched it
ped my nose. "Come on then, climb
ned my coat pocket and lifted it
no inside pocket?" he grumbled,
lizard-like eyes. "Fuck me Chesters,
feet in my pocket, hands on the
sing himself into the deep end. "No
I took it and stamped on it. He
ugly and foul-mouthed shitbag) by
of the Tunnel. He rolled like a
ed (properly, I mean, unlike the
e other night when Karen turned on the
-> shit no, this was REAL laughter).
reamed T'Nucy Nit.
d him up like a big dog turd. I
first, suddenly accepting - and
r - long, dragging minutes of endless
oaching the Beechwood Road turn-off
ked like two big, green boxing gloves
t either side.
off to the library, I plucked the
Action Men and eased them down onto
k!" They both shrieked in chorus and
ed by the roadside wall. "Always put
ellowed, unseen. "Joo want the whole
were now featherlight but full of
linshit or something), then announced:
esters, gentlemen. Have a pleasant
about to swirl round for the journey
ed, Confused Man's Journey, I was
us, now visible again, screamed up
orget we're lookin after you, fucko!
I'm sick of this shit you ugly little
llow-orange eyes twinkling like fire
eels will take you." He hissed. With-
t's that supposed to mean?" I shifted
tlight slid up the wall, stealing the
tain... Except there was no trace of
ork, glistening spiderwebs and rain-
nded microscopic. "Hey, are you
ght wind. I looked back down the road
stantly... Getting closer. I stood
until the light source exploded and I
what it was: car headlights.
rehead - those goblins were heavier
quite badly - and the car rattled
hin river of rainwater. I watched it,
can only describe as `an air of
his same scene (the night, the cold,
ightlight, I could see the colour of
ow (or at least TRY to get some
ter with the goblins was real or
tucked into my underpants.
d better buy myself a few changes of
k am I going to wash? How am I going
an change in the Tunnel: I've walked
his: these entries are going to get a
ht it back to me today. A memory - my
experience - perhaps the underlying
d with the idea of rape. Rape
called Nina, eight years since, and
living next door and working in some
-Nina they called her, and never
r door, only I lost my ball over the
to knock, I had to had to knock.
" I said.
and the door closed. Warm, funny,
and the echo of a radio somewhere (I
n furniture and alien ornaments and
. She went and sat on the settee and
rs and then out into the green
which was resting contently in a patch
the wall from her garden! The whole
f it, the whole of it: jagged-hole
t a clean white sky, so I stayed for a
ehind her back and I turned and said
crane and she said no, it's okay, and
ook it and smelt it and saw that she
eat mine (manners and all that even
y- but it was hot); freezing ice,
erness as her lips turned bronze and
the fridge. If you ever want one,
her white blouse thing... Hung
runny yellow like dog's wee. She
e fascinated because her (what
there and plain to shape beyond that
han I had ever been before to
button clicked open (more skin and
as a centrefocus for my eyes only she
n't mind me looking. Cold sticky
hadn't hardly touched my lolly, even
air, catching flies as Mum would say.
n the street and friends yelled, Mum
nd some birds flew overhead in a
hhhhhh," there was a little nipple
maller, much much smaller than Mum's
I really liked it, my lolly dropped on
oked and look look looked.
the lolly up and down and round the
much, more at me, like she wanted to
eyes were so blue I couldn't stare for
d and pink and so big nipples did
s really nice she was beautiful, I
tongue- lips- tongue- swallowed, can't
an't go home. Dog wee yellow all over
ellow bib like Richie's old one that
e you doing...', `Can I touch...',
t and rang and echoed but never never
u Stuart... Come on."
h inside sweet-smelling tatty house,
. "Shhhhhhh," buttons undone
chest, clung to pinkish red nipples,
seen anythin like this you have never
ustn't tell anybody, okay?"
couldn't speak so nodded yes yes yes
aul but paul won't tell anybody else
have to shake. It's okay."
right you never said this happened
ou had to be older I-
ou my fanny as well. Honest. Go on
level. I reached out and up and- and-
n, not like skin I had wanted to feel
my fingers across not soft but hard
then Nina made a noise so I snatched
licked bronze lips. Bead of wee still
k breathing... And her chest was
arm breath soft lips against mine,
and she too was shaking- sweating-
roke free of home friends mum brother
amy as she licked and pulled up
my thing in her mouth and then things
nd carried me to different places and
gs to herself as I watched through
by stiff branch that was my own
uick like these days now in Adult
k with us both on it bottom top bottom
a few days, and forever after when I
memory. There are great problems. And
agree, is the fact that I'm quite
past... Perhaps from a dream, perhaps
ure. But it did NOT happen, not in
ne. Perhaps I made up the part where I
fucked up thoughts - and recorded a
g, as if to say to myself, my REAL
n't take another eight fucking years
ng I spend in this place now that the
part... I'm engraving marks in the
ke my friend STAy over there.
½10 on some boxer shorts, some sand-
g full of fruit from one of the stalls
stretch the dosh because I'm sure
ill be back tonight, outside the
ll, I'll be very happy to oblige.
as I took a slow bite from the Boots'
gnise one of the voices... (could it
) For a moment I was filled with so
iful Karensound that I let a gooey
y mouth and splat on the floor like
(couldn't! needles & pins and I ached
p: she was with somebody ELSE this
your friends TONIGHT?)
Echofootsteps. And then in they came
h of them, masking their lower faces
, like she was talking to me over a
try. "What the fuck's going on?"
companion (whatsisname? what?), a
er of a bloke.
ght desperately, almost bleeding with
- red hot and lightning fast - shoot
m ventured into my lair like marines
to make a sound but all I got was a
ing was stuck there - an elastic band,
k (Karen help me please)]
for me like a pirate for treasure and
save her some time. "WHAT HAPPENED!"
dn't like that one but I couldn't see
smell her hair her touch her being...
and nose and mouth to stop running but
ew words like "how are you?" and "mum
ttle basic hints of communication
new, attractive, Poor Stuart way. It
duce Mr Hunky.
ut you, I'm Bruce," He offered me his
and squeezed it tightly to show I
't. The guy was big and the guy was
e (you don't fuck with people who talk
therfucker, or who see the Retail Bugs
n KILL YOU).
oth. "Go, please..." I waved them
each other not an appalling mess like
dickfannies don'tcha see how shallow
tugged my sleeve. "I want you to
here... We'll find somewhere for
rse we will) "We'll gotoa-a-a-"
into my jumper. That was when Bruce
d buzz of the Machine's stomachlights
rock statue from a mythical film (I
the Argonaughts") and about as
ndition as a cup of cold coffee on a
ntly. "It's quite obvious to me that
give this guy a medalion) "Are you
ll over this subway?" (it's not a
- The Drug Tunnel) "Can't you smell
ced round, wrinkling his nose up.
mess, how do you think it's going to
d his chin again, that lovely spiky
d between Karen's cuntlips yet has it
Karen's is a friend of mine. I can
't offer a place to kip because I
taying with Karen at the moment," (I
against me) "But I can give you
rts when I smile, now: my lips are
e. Not much, but a little. I'll
f out of my coat and took a few
knew I was lying, but I just winked.
they mean, what they symbolise? Or do
is socialgolem's cock inside you all
more. The place stunk. The lights
al drunks staggered past, squinting
tch beeped midnight.
" Bruce whispered. "It's morning now.
ly tugged her jacket.
directly under my message "ENDLESS
He breathed and stopped massaging his
ou mean you can tell?"
It hurt so much to just leave it as
tion: "Isn't she?" I added (please
shrugged. "Maybe she was for a while,
k it's over now. Perhaps a fantasy, me
" He smiled to himself. "She said I
out coarsely, viciously.
into my hostile eyes, before nodding
?" I wasn't whispering anymore - in
e her, will you?"
rt of me wanted to cry part of me
d spurt the blood across the walls of
rip the smug hedgehog chin out of the
young beast (that had stolen my yes
wanted to curl up and go to sleep and
are was over but the real real real
e truth from a single surviving
k and corrupted heart told me it was
reation my own lack of self-
elief self-power self self self self
, now crouched beside me. "I'll tell
I'll tell her how I feel, okay?
know she will. I mean- shit, just
" He rubbed his eyes. "You're right,
oubt I ever will be. I like her, a
erson, a great friend, and christ we
.. But what you said a few moments
ss sex is all I wanted." He looked
ect at last and I wondered: are you
t you see?]
ooked down at the sleeping girl.
lled away, and I was left with a patch
knew would fade so quickly I would
her up in his arms.
idnight, we're going home."
tomorrow, I promise," She called over
ed as cherries. "Take care, don't go
ise, I proh-hom-iss..."
stopped thinking fucked up thoughts)
that the little guys were back, so I
ches to prepare myself for the long
his perch on the fence. "You gotta
They don't keep on being the young-
utate! They grow up! And there's
o quit moping around and wipe that
've got places to go, am I right?
Yes," I nodded. "Right."
oard and we were off - no delays. The
ngers didn't complain as much as they
say as I enjoyed myself.
I'd made up that bizzare sexual
ossibly have become so vivid and
ould slot into place around the non-
REAL, make it feel as though it DID
e time, there was a voice whispering
up at home when you overheard your
when you saw Nina naked one day!
aybe you should try and remember the
you following all this? or are you
memories tonight, but I did come back
een pounds in my pocket, and now...
hrown the old ones in the bushes -
chips & sauce) and I'm now going to
ete to watch the moths (or are they
until I fall asleep.
I'm going to "solve a jigsaw puzzle"
sn't under the Tunnel, I was outside,
s usually lingers. I had been blown, I
dead leaves. According to my watch it
cold and stiff and starving, so I
boring slideshow. I spent most of it
out Richard (if he was upset, if he
returned or letting Mum tear it up
e was looking for me, if HE'D been
. I mean WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? Does
ll help me. And let's face it, I do
no confidence anymore, no faith, no
... Well, no nothing...
is diary - I'm obviously going insane,
what happens to me- what I see through
e hell should I make it up? I spend
hy bother making a fictional diary
Will I look back and remember it that
sh reality from fantasy?
't know what's real, what's unreal,
I guess. And one wine bottle used up.
Oh I'll tell you what happened shall
d and reached into my pocket like I
te or a gun or something but instead I
pty empty wine bottle, which crack-
Tunnel leaving me with a circular-
boys slowed walking - stopped walking
turned, slowly, grinning.
ntlemen." I smiled, holding up the
glass rolled out of it, hit the
n see the whole of the crane, not just
inting at me, drunk as usual but
rest - me, his friend, his contact,
he Twilight Zone, gone mad, turned
ination, I think - and I advanced as
s, some still giving me abuse, but in
n't hurt us master, we're sorry-]
en they realised the smell and the
p the walls and the new grafitti done
d that might be my own and might not
here, come to Daddy...
omed, his voice fresh and new and low
im beneath the Tim. The darkest depths
me and kicked me and driven me to
was back. "What the fuck are you gonna
the head with that, eh? You're fucked
ut electricity. My fingers were
my skin was running with sweat.
through clenched teeth.
's just go-"
rn box. Three more. Tim in the lead,
After all, I was his friend.
m chuckled, arms held out. "You're
that, are ya Stu, eh? You're just a
who had screamed and that I was the
evil night with the teenage girls -
oung men, terrified of insanity,
ottle held high and ready to strike.
ended but I do remember slicing open
nto his back and slashing him across the
I thought I would trip. I remember
y, blinding me, filling my mouth,
e Tunnel and collapsing not with the
e tinkle of glass and the crack-whip
remember... Except her warmth. I do
to die, soon, I can sense it. They
ie. I am satisfied that tonight I chased
s away, away, away from here and I am
and spread his guts all over this
ose who hurt you in the past or you
risk the breakup. I took the risk
endship, two-sided friendship - would
ends who deep down d n't give a fuck
a fiddle all over the kitchen floor
ch fun and the Bug did a million more,
immer yellow-white like puddles and
skin. I am in a cardboard tube, a
and out but I'm not allowed to leave.
here like rivers of melted butter
t. With Karen.
mum said you could have the spare
re not staying here, I won't let-"
ee it from here, I can see it, I love
astard for hurting you, I can see it,
after that, crying I think, though
ths flutter, like little heating fans,
around my face.
e in the road that the things we
s. Wine bottles, rope, black bags,
rickwork and made-up-fantasies. They
puzzle to solve - crack that and
aiting for anything to happen and
nation what I wait f r doesn't exist
g my head) up here, do you get it
eginning to make sense.
e riddle that is Steve today when he
yellow butter) and stopped and
stead he turned to pity and offered
ch I took, before I hooked the rope
g him across the ground, nearer and
nsion-swap, nearer and nearer to the
the beast, and I swung him ---> I
squ aling and crying and bleating like
m out into the monster's buttercoated
legs then his body to the waist, then
, out of my world, out of my nest, out
s mad as I flicked the lighter up and
ed for his voice to leave like the
won't ever be back.
him, though he didn't hear, and I can,
om in here.
me back to see if I was still alive
ght a police man with him through the
t to be a big binliner he was holding
de it, something caught, something
ll it, yes."
's mates, he looked different, not a
one of his eyes was a different
" I asked him.
g first," he replied, smiling.
him and he waved before disappearing
tely after the dimension flash, the
nd swish and rattle - big it was,
g - and staggered up and took hold of
ect, the plastic clash of legs, the
g smell of Retail Bug shit - black
the shape of bullets, I sensed - as
it to throb and thrash and kick and
arp and c ld. Tore through my jeans,
ip on the bag and skidded down onto
and yelped and eventually leaped free
per, it spr ng for the southern box,
k and a dimension flash.
of the Tunnel and chasing the
I don't remember getting to here, laid
ewhere in the dark. Magnus said some-
ashed to pieces with glass in the back
d wandering aimlessly by a man
and Magnus climbed out of my pocket.
summersault, sat up and made his eyes
" he said, grinning. "End of the road,
I wanted to be back at the Tunnel in
ths and think some more about the past
ke use of the things the STAy message
ldn't, somehow, you know, I couldn't,
t warning, the final frontier, the
y grandfather felt like before death,
the blurring his vision was and how
rry for all sins he must have been.
hs, with the dreams," smiled Magnus,
host; I could see the bricks in the
t and face the music, fucko. Stand in
l the current."
ut there, out in the middle of the
ite moths, silent and freezing and
ed snowing as Magnus disappeared and I
r, ready to STAy now and tackle the
me, up-down, up-down, and to scream
o the end, right to the fucking END,
the END, I scribb e to the END, the
ery, mainly of Karen. Remember being
d wn into mine.
drinking s mething, being told
t of talking, not m h from me - j st
. Mum a d Richard. Mum cryinï¿½. Mum
side. I rem er touching my face and
n the b shes where I kept t e items I
they found glu of all things in plas
of my eyes. Se med excited. Quite a
t think I h ve met before. Papers
l ve you ."
t it m t be good ne s, unless of
m making it up... Or whate er. I
pen ' s r n ou