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

ome in Abbey Park (about three
the moths dance across my stories
Here I've written published pieces
familiar with my name and work and
re today - but everything accepted
htmares from the real universe
Or could it be that everybody
r. Whether this dairy will be of
imilarly debatable question. Good
g the first entry and all. If I
ome kind of conclusion, forgive me
don't know how easy it is to keep

sk me why I don't buy a car or a
e Tunnel and back home again. You
ofing around at this time of night
Psychos! rapists! werewolves!
uta their holes at the same time.
Moths simply dance and the tunnel

walk more than ten yards without
ou're pretty hellishly weird. Thing
fails to understand is the amount
ts walk. Problems, riddles, ideas,
nd have - many times - clicked into
tlights, or as my footsteps have
unwound. Found.
ing for shelter and I haven't been
because I want to be here. I like
d: drive, ride, bus it home... home
an and not think of each other.
ce. It's not very big, not really,
ly across the daylight-busy tarmac.
past that, a DIY superstore. Down
filthy, cobbled road to an ancient
squares either end. Park near the
egin- stop- and then turn and run.
alk home in the morning mist.
our to scribble that. Writing can
st bit though, I think.
se. If anything happens on the way,
I'm not in Intensive Care.
something: Chesters. Stuart

g I bet.
oo. It's because I write, that's
oyed, that's another strong one;
ut there's more... Something I
I think perhaps- oh hang on

d through, staring at me all the
as... He grunted.

age responsibilities such as work,
inly because I've realised I have
were). Older readers, or you
han the majority might have some
can I explain?
w, anyway.
the Tunnel and observe people.
plague and tease, maybe even...
ed through, panting wheezily, eyes
n't really look at me. Animals
it's kittens scuttle on past with-

h yeah: myself.
ts about seven months ago, after
, which involved my mum and my
s fifteen; four years younger than
hing I can do is write short
ither too sick to print or too
. This makes me pretty talentless
d from three jobs since I left the
e to the conclusion that, not only
nemployable. I take creativity way

sh, the other in Graphics, and on
t bad for a guy who's ambition used

ersity, not because I wouldn't like
confidence and don't have any

ional rejects: Gemma Forrest, an
ho has sex with anything in
raped (and she was once, as far as
re you ask); Steven Warwick, a
owd layabout who collects billion
me sussed (but he hasn't); Tim
d who lives with his braindead,
ld me this, thinks Manchester's in
ause, like Steve, he's very
f my gory fiction; and lastly,
the DIY store up on Pellon Lane.
e list: she's become what I would

ounger than me, a late-developer I
oks about twelve) but despite her
and mature - she could do a hell of
nine hours a day, of that there's
he's worked a late shift, she comes
for a while. I enjoy our
rd the next one down when it

just to see what she does. I don't
e... Though I'm probably wrong.
th her parents in the Canary
fortnight, so she told me a couple
the balls to tell her this but...
like crazy).
g very cold. Tomorrow I'll tell you
se you'll keep reading. I have much
so much more is going to happen.

idnight, I stalked two teenage
their heads and giggling like
Tunnel they muted themselves for a
out it came:

eave em."
own the Tunnel.
t, viciously intensified by the
nd of thing you'd expect might
n a school classroom when the

y and scantily dressed, and I
usly, (excitedly?) until they
e Tunnel. Then, I closed my note-
ind to hide in the shadows, and yet
y shoes to ring as a distant menace
Crib Lane, kicking each other,
d and back again (one even threw
their careless, chaotic wandering
seeing the desperate faces of
jected and abused... And my
end - Karen. `How have you earned
hought. `Where did you buy your
to being more careful on the
e evil? Hell, do really, honestly

put up with a hell of a lot of
the feelings or opinions of
e unfair advantage of the innocent
eady? What gives them the right? A
ine lottery of fate?

ken sniggering and playfighting
t. They increased their speed, kept
o each other. Head down, I just
reetlights buzzed. Footsteps
lse was around.
yover, we were nothing but midges.
steps would appear that led up to
up there, no matter how late the
ad to do it soon. Immediately.

a sprint, I noticed the pair had
ves on a low wall. They were
ach like Kittens in a cardboard

. Passing them wasn't right. What
I had to go along with my feelings
ke - if afterwords it felt wrong -
Halted. I looked up. The girls
yed and shivering. Slowly, quietly,

pened. The three of us stared out
tening to the hum of hidden
excitement- rage- the world shook
e in a fountain of glass. I lashed
s, raking through hair, splitting
trainers. The first shriek of
Surely this could not be
way round was natural? Not this

d them in fours, the other
n sparkling with balls colour, I
down, down onto cold brick.
nto her stomach. She gargled,
he other girl had gone- vanished-
er, grabbed a breast- squeezed it-

nk I said (it's hard to remember).
ul, never never never, or you are
rds came out steadily, but in
desirous to rape- to torture- to
immoral to this pathetic moth that

her breast was completely flat
ging into flesh. The girl's eyes
felt my other hand fumbling for my
was going to- I was going to-

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


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

me today and added some graffiti
CONFUSION" I wrote... Done all
y writing. My A-level in graphic
, you know.
ffiti in the Tunnel at this moment
oore ON Tour 90", "Smoke POT- it's
re", "I love TSO 92" (in jagged
"Cheekie Chappies!", and of course
noriginal - "Kay&Jonny", complete
g out from beneath the &.
Halifax before. I do not feel good
... "mine" now. Like an animal
or shit or something.
s walked through the subway after
e. He was pissed through (it's only
look at me at all. He reminded me
r stories. Strange - maybe he was.
won't stay open. This job (job?)
'll live. Friday tomorrow, should
, Gemma. We'll see.


an usual to catch the drunks as
kicked once and spat on three
istible name-calling attacks) but I
r pathetic and pointless sins one
t about half past eleven. With no
oached, I felt my skin dampen: what

is fuckin homework or summing?"

les swarming her, licking her ears,
old and still studying at school.
rightened of the term "work" and
es of higher education for as long
he expects to use her eventually
idea. Still, I'm not one to
And let's be fair - no matter how
, Gemma is still a little girl.
. The surrounding males barked with
hilariously funny. I ignored them
ugh or argue about anything they
tually) result in them completely
e bliss.
emma demanded.
orus and tottered around, waiting
hearing my usual, negative
said with an impatient sigh (the
f braindead males than for her).
obviously I was either stupid or
d had calmed, Gemma wormed herself
e, face gazing into mine.
o judge girls like that... Smooth
touching in case it's just make-up
gers, and beautiful blue eyes...
if you stare for long enough.
or and what've you got? A human
righten you.
d of a short black skirt, a thin
a through it) and a dark denim
her hefty chest to poke through.
ale and here's the proof"? "Gemma,
lly little girl, I'm just not
n them for a start.")

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

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

k when you start it?"

had given up on her and drifted on
ut I could see faint shadows waving
northern box.
fucking bastard," she muttered.
y'd you sit under this stupid

snapped. "I've told you, I'm not
gger off with your boyfriends."

itch. I can imagine at this stage
e hell my problem is. I ought to

portant, my real, inner-feelings
with those of Gemma's. Second, I
ales that have, for that past three
issants from the scummiest depths
). Third, I consider myself a very
o ho, good joke, right? Right.

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

t, Gemma."
ore. And then she jumped on me.
I must admit. Threatened to do it -
t never actually physically thrown

of perfume and beer, and as we
he dug her teeth into my neck. I
ain to clear a guy's thoughts.
round, extracted, pushed, chin up,
er head between my knees.

r... OFF me!"
uices don't you? Eh?"
e hurting my ears-"

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

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

e. She caught it on her cheeks, her
d to spit back, as if unnaffected.
es twinkled... This attack was a
turned on.
zza bombshelled her forehead - and
ows and voices. I clambered off
ly aware of being congratulated by
irst class face-shower.


unless my parents are rowing.
ng Gemma... Head jammed between my
nder the light of the Tunnel.

hs flutter and I wonder... Have


unday - God said - is the day when
l out.

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

anuscript and it was late
from school and I could hear Mum
is shoes off before he walking into

ped in the hallway. Mum and Richard
e. I tiptoed up to the livingroom

to become like him... Wasting his
es... REAL career, REAL job...

ly glad I was eighteen when I
any younger and I might have taken
ping the house with the bang of the

otsteps were quick. They had to be;
and I was both.

street. The sky was white, the
lue?] cars were droning by. "No,
esn't like me. Hasn't that twigged
a mistake."
"Stu, no! That's not true!"
faster. Richard jogged to catch up
atched away, teeth together. If he
rst into tears too, and then before
at my knees, begging for a
I'd be right where I was (where
ro uno.
house, I mean, Stu, I wanna read
r new-"
moment, thought about apologising,

and blood crouched sobbing in the

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

ve no feelings. Adults are evil in
s. Be a child and you can pass

eyes and it... Hurts. Why else
rning hours writing shit nobody

ng this for ARE my parents. When
p. Weep weep weep cry burn in Hell
done to your own son.


ith no love whatsoever.

hett. You want monsters and ghosts
rounds, look up James Herbert or
f many times (nothing wrong with
arse down on ice cold stone when
ak and write under the Drug Tunnel
he overhead lights and the chatter
oser, new questions about horror

ver read this, because I've done
tten with no market in mind, no
to confine me. And yet my chosen

essay? I don't know. I don't give
has actually happened, but it's
ctional style; there are self-
ete with dialogue and
you look at it that way. I've used
h imagery as I can. You need
e, not just a block of boring text.
o understand: feelings, emotions,

t's worked."

dramatic, huh?




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

fun that was. Just when I thought I
ti-skirt, along comes Mr Knowitall
oad spectrum of hatred.


alcohol. I shuffled away. He
ough here without being pissed?

RIST: Question of the month.


e turned away, as if in repulse.
ental twat: when he first arrives
less questions. Nice company. Then
trolley". He proceeds to declare
goes on and on and on, until I
walk off. It's always the same

rely not. I looked at Steve through

ody touched you up when-"
e gonna talk, talk quietly and
ur own sick ideas. Understand?"
h? I haven't got a sister!"
s. "Something musta happened. This

id you?"
UCK OFF, cunt."
yond all normality. It's never
thing seems to have really...
ce I began this diary. Quite odd,

t last Friday."
hag anybody last Friday."
ths as it fluttered against the
til it fell on the floor and began
sn't so interesting then.
t your dick out and spunked all

pat in her face, alright? I spat."

I felt like repeatedly whacking him
ciousness, then pissing in his
g. My teeth scraped together.
escape, and a good job it is too;
really would have repeatedly
issed in his mouth: I'm a fucking
ur lucky stars I found writing,

ve whispered, more to himself than
ut something. No change there. "You
You've gotta be past fifty to
rience and all that. You've nothing
looked at me again, his goatee
s. "What ever you want to say...
re. Everything in the world has

t when he first came out with it
a point I suppose - most things
ed or destroyed. Only the super-
echnology - or the incredibly rich
dible voice in the world.
told Steve in an equally soft

irds. The lights buzzed.

. Flicked it. "Why what?"
Why this!" His voice echoed the
tlessness. Take religions which
ple... Like, say, Christianity.
wasn't/weren't willing to accept
stence - so they scribbled down a
l-Powerful Spirit) being the ruler
heir blindingly obvious fictional
of sad pricks believe in it all.
t then again, isn't everything?)
a of a young, fairly attractive,
during the early hours of the
a notebook for absolutely no reason
t fit. And it doesn't fit with
n, I don't think). There >HAS< to
tivity... I've been molested,
house, shouted at, I'm afraid of
whore, I'm attracting my peers'
sons for my being here is
ded any one of them was true he'd
acked me. I reckon I'd never see
his complex jigsaws.
r my silence. "I'll sort you next
home. Sure you're not walkin up

ed off down the Tunnel. He came
he wrong way.
ht. A couple of other bodies have
riting this but to be quite
ttention. Sorry.

It wasn't just my knackered brain.

lo, then hello again, then "Gemma,
?" but she didn't stop, didn't sit

ot that I had her in the first
ight I suppose.
nd, but she was human... And the
was roll about on the floor of
g in her face. What I bastard I am.

.. I think-
robably like me to]

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

dest, most cornered pissants on the
tard to boot.
he only job he can get. He hates it
has to keep money coming in from
nd pregnant his parents chucked him
eels like to be chucked out by your

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

nything from our conversation. We
and old), about books and stories,
ould use in my forthcoming fiction,

ther. "Jobs are okay," I remember
resting for the first week or two
est of your life."
as her impatient response --> That,
ucking great.
t attractions about becoming a
"job" as such, there are no set
the pay (at least, for your first
ion on the employment market]
ng worth relating.
you know. Funny how things can
el through the murky teenage
re were times when Tim slapped me
myself... And yet he was sat here
tch] chatting to me like we've

horror story I'd written myself out
gob-dropped class, Tim got great
s a punch-bag. After "Bleeding
tarted talking to me about horror
g books.
ked me one strange and bitterly

ply [it had to be a trick]. As it
s. We became good mates. He even
o ask him why he'd punched the shit
ascinated me, it did, how anybody
invented fiction and turn from bad

uck - and still doesn't to this
astard when everything's boiled

I hang out in the Tunnel for so
blind to the fact that he's partly
rawn childhood was panel-beaten
ople like him. Every slap, every
----> it's all still in me, some-
life-scarring trauma - many people
kind of thing, and far worse - but
t cannot see it.
t my childhood thinking about
them down as incidents in stories,
iary of a murderer instead of a
likes my fiction: with out it, he
se his own description) --> stuck
ead, perhaps: me, his Frankensteins

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


reacted to my often bizzare and


at which you regularly spend time
hool, the local library, your
is bound to crop up sooner or
e on that one.
n it's time appearing in my dreams.
elf sitting in a mind-rendered
s moths which have my "friends'"
re's a reason).
at cross-legged in the middle of
lighter (up-down) between my eyes.
letely naked - and there were three
ked in a neat line just ahead of
s, and wrapped around each was a
and a picture of a sky-blue car

al times, which is why I went into
orth this morning and bought myself
oing into supermarkets - they're
nwashing deathtrap, full of stuck
though nobody seems to notice,
rattling and scuttling and nibbling
-racks. But I'll tell you about
l World in general - another time.
things to discuss).
ourse, paid a visit to the "Wines &
ror!' guess what I found...
know the wine is the exact same
efore he popped his cloggs, hence
n on a hectic fishing trip and
al dreamscape which I am now - on
lly reacting to.
ty. A good excuse to down the wine
t me nearly a month's dole). Right
way beneath an off-putting thorne
hern entrance.
d they're gonna get found, but
tion the average by-the-side-of-the
e and the path's sacred: if you
eep shit. Yeah, right).

of the Tunnel, just like the one I
ack at school. Only better - and

n. Why? It's only a horse with a
stic about that? What makes it so
g. Nothing except the way it looks.


walked naked through the Tunnel.
d, almost painful `prickling'
d those teenage girls a while ago
hard and cold against my skin.
se of occasional vehicles made me

bated, then got dressed. Nobody
ver do that again. I don't feel

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


ping Tom today (I'm not only
ou know - I'm squeezing out some
rised, but I feel disappointed,

to handle when I was attending the
ths ago (before it closed down due
as one of the few "clubs" I've ever
e there.
concerning writer's groups: one or
can dominate and even destroy what
d healthy workshop; they can become
mply writing to and for each other;
ionally) hostile and off-putting to
too "nice" (any work read out
round the table).
m to be heading off in any of these
ding out my, shall we say "sicker"
onses to the set tasks.
one the workshop seemed like heaven
ugh the door was met by a huge
er! Yes! It was as though I had at

keep in touch by sending mail to
ew people who regularly attended,

nullified by a workshop, or taken
lse for that matter. They're just
ink I'll ever understand why a
ppenings) can possibly be rejected
, badly laid out manuscript, some-

ces floating around, plus a full
more than three months ago called
novel: he reckons it kicks the shit
today's market, but what the hell
get a book published. Not anymore,
& name-based. Too commercial.
ompetitions because of the language
y eyes this sucks: where's the
d old fuckstains who haven't a clue
ion = modern language, you prune-
twigged yet? Just because I don't
s tea & biscuit party doesn't mean

all rejected, that's it. No more
attempts at "breaking through".
the best work I've ever done, so
hat, hell, why dream of
alent, I know I don't. I think too


ugh the Tunnel tonight. So I've

ir homes more vunerable? At night
ck up at night - some even alarm
anybody could open the front door

houghts intact makes you realise
ody insane - me perhaps? - to walk
om, to open a front door, it
e, to close up behind, to creep, to



-analysis aren't I? Not to mention
es. I don't know whether that's a
ed at writing as a form of therapy,
ady said a lot of what I'm writing
ook, Psychotic Dreams.
as well tell you a little about

f it does get accepted for
edits and additions and God-knows-
ch point taking a week or so out
ing name - Psychotic Dreams is
so why fuss?]
-autobiographical; after over-
y brother, I went into suicide-mode
different ways.
ple think teenagers are perfectly
structive phase. It's just standard
ill yourself did you? What
On the surface - to the outside
Maybe it is trivial, or something
death occurs is it? It's not so
torn to emotional shreds. If, on
o suicide, think about that one.
great, chain-reacting power. A
. A power that, once freed, can

sing book about the confessions of
rt urban life has been one of abuse
reams are his only escape from a
lly raped him of all forms of

scapes... And learns to solidify
ble threads of hope remain, only to
outside world. He decides to
ychotic, perverted fantasies --->
rder. Animal cruelty. Child sex.

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



another, I don't think I want her
n. Something's gone wrong. Some-
gone wrong.
bodies seem thicker. Their heads...
they're just... More defined.

he clatter of Gemma.

weary to write.
o... Wasn't Gemma. Was Dianne.


s in pockets. Shivering I think...
ough clouds of supergiant moths. I
n lap, pen pointed at the roof, and
dn't... Believe...
versa as she came out of the
andalpattern wall opposite. Her
nt wing shadows spun webs across

he said, "Please... I need to know
ocent voice. My book eased
hivering and breathless - as I rose
r and the Tunnel bugs from my skin.
y- who- like-"
ntionally threatening. I was the
Tendrils of smoke rising from my
shifted her feet. Scratched an
with her tongue.
furiously. `I want to steal you
y into a thousand pieces. Girl girl

mber, if- if you-" She took a deep,
lf whisper. A strong, confident,
give me your shit, Chesters, you

with streaks of red desperation,
she fell- "Why am I pregnant why

as a perfect vaccum. My heart.
many times must I scribble bull-
insane mothnest? Here, on the floor
sense reality of truth.
ge after page of pathetic lies]
n't..." I crouched, made as if to
st never.
s, no words of comfort, no escort
ice hung forever between us.
sies and ruthless riddle-thought.
ness of drink and an invisible
teenage male, asleep from
th the flicker of TV in his closed

colourful wordshit smeared across
to the Tunnel through the northern
en slow, staring as he passed.
ng out here you two friends? or

he wind].
r, smiling a true smile. Her eyes
blind, charcoaling speech. What
sound of a petrified lifeform,
outs, it's own jarred existence.
I was confused just confused

er upper legs, her stomach, between
t me, never... I would never do
ked out for a few seconds. Went
did some... Things. But never, I

haps you aren't, perhaps it's just
nstantly triggered nightmare had
istake. I grinned when I realized
r be an all-destroying sea of dark

eading the walls. "Cath & Kim",
the marks of a hundred people
tu & Dianne", I thought of
d, or when normality crept back...

. Run. Run like the wind!]

bled across the floor, climbing to
aper. "Bye." She waved.
ome back if you want to talk," I
box in silence, like a traveller
back to her own, alien universe.
es the same; from the moment they
into the darkness, they are in MY
lice of this rotten, battered

ot yours]
't write anymore. I'll be better


wouldn't. There's more good in me
hing "wrong" with me. You try
night. It soon gets to you.

's happened.
. Sometimes I think it's better to
try to write them down... Ah I
I can't I can't I can't.
st entry was a bastard to write.
beginning of this diary, I never
visit from each of my "friends" and
prose as a result of Karen's return
g). I mean come on, I've lingered
owl of a toilet for nearly a whole
ery little outside, anyway. In my

ion here between reacting to the
hing down as it goes on. If I don't
I'll be buggered if I know. I'm

sit, so there's little I can tell
herself sorted, or in so much of a
) I've become the last person on

my name. I know that wasn't perhaps

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

through here. Sometimes many nights
e soul. Oh, cars drift by up on the
But very often, nobody comes.
ly empty. I'll start on the last
for... But when the vehicles above
lancing at that strange blue-car

ars disturb them, make them shoot
oncrete like ping-pong balls in
e cars either.


ign of Dianne. Or Karen. Or anybody
so full of drunks I didn't spend
t to get into any shit, not after
lly tonight, like there's some kind
g. The lighter: perhaps it's a tool
ez. They'd no longer be moths of
ally. Sounds like good fun.
ve arrived late, or taken the day
will be back (hopefully)... God I

ent really stem from the past, or
ed on the logic of time?
"traumatic/damaging experience" has
rief (and, perhaps more import-
rejection... There are none of
n the deepest chasms of my brain,
none of that.
g honest? Well... Who am I writing
y non-existant audience... Or just
arents and brother. If they're the
ept it... But... Is it possible to

xtreme lengths of time due to the
rtain" (temporary mental illness?)

has become the truth: I sincerely
that nothing "traumatic" has
is means, if I am lying to myself,
r it is that DID happen.

r" (damaging)



t about Karen? No.... Neither of
east, not that I know of.
they do? Are the attributes "good"

t, every human being is "neutral"
ve, aggressive genes)... ie:
ere must be a certain age - perhaps
ging (nurture, basically) - at
- or consciously? - "decides"
ituated more towards "good" than

oint...? Or is it winging up and
d? Is this state of imbalance any


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

t know what, but something is. This
o focus.

ll for anything.
is predefined by no-"

w, when I hope I'll be able to tell
on with Karen.


y friends, for Sunday is the day
d fuck all will happen to anybody."

ier than usual. It's still daylight
tead of black ones... Just bigger

. Not yet. I never see them arrive.
next- POOMF! the air is alive with
t. Where do they come from?
pass through at this kind of hour.
at me as per usual. They're afraid
ou know. Can't be sure of course,
e wandering in through a black box,
ce can't enter this dimension).
ape or a murder down here wouldn't
station. Ha! Blind bastards...
ind what ever they do. Hell,

e wine. Come on Kaz...

anne just then. I was scribbling
w a shadow in the nothern box. As
w and the feeling of being watched
like her, it did, I swear to God it
of course.
e dog. Came half-way into the

ly do.

What the fuck am I hanging about
r what a BITCH! Fuck fuck fuck fuck
fuck fuck fuck fuck f

night. Shame you can't erase ink
't it?

t (this morning, rather)... Him and
e piss out of me, of course. Got me
ptight ---> Hell, you know the
d Tim.
l as if I'm being dragged too close
tever that might entail). Am I
stupid questions, forgive me: I
ings that matter, and even then I

ng I've become a very lonely and
mind admitting it's not my fault.
body else did. Where's the wrong in
ngers and grow up?

much more?

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

get anywhere in life? Hell, DO you
am, or is that yet another fucking
What is normal? Is normal wanting
a rosy garden, a handful of kids,
Stop coming to this place? Stop

erhaps I'm a cut above the rest. I
nightclubbing, girlhunting,
other multi-named activities
. I'm happy... And yet not happy...
ed up and as confused as buggery,

es you want to spit; nightclubs are
aces when you first walk in through
ever quite what you dreamt it would
ave plenty of that]
ng good in your mate's eyes. But
now. Who would understand and who
, unexplainably found yourself in

ttractive to our eye-
elves are most important-
ay otherwise-

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

r them out, obliterating the memory
a dream? Did the moths do

't like what she said at all.

emember who they all are?
his isn't a book. There is no plot.
: I can remind you when ever I
" of my world. You need to know
reason this diary exists.
over all. Even love. When misused,
oth can of course be illusionary...
herefore so often a cheap, pathetic

ever whisper that to her. Why say

s my age would not look twice at
nd rejection in her greenblue eyes.
age of the crystal clear perfection
the present youth population. If
n't have anything at all. If what
they won't have anything at all.
gly attractive by several members
tractive members of the opposite
ood? Important? Special?

ments on TV declare: if you're in
ntrol of your life. But looks are
a beauty catalogue prior to being
we must naturally keep. Forever.
tion, perhaps. Because I show no
attracted to me: it's NOT the way
allenge for her. She believes I'm
I believe - in many ways - I'm
eyes slide down her body as she
holds me back.
d to Gemma?
ompany, I respect the girl. But I
y she talks. I don't like the way
ness, her ignorance, her periodic
be sexually involved with her. When
laughed: I was nothing, nothing at
body knew my name: that's all that
derate success as a writer and saw
the shadows, did she allow me to
of expectation.
down here. I'm no longer asleep.
little peer-tides. No, kiddo: I'm

or school.
a skinny white twig of a child -
ecision: the Eleven Plus Year. It'd
er back then - I didn't of course -
t she still caught my eye; I don't

ossible to imagine I could feel so
and I would meet again and become
riends destined to fall in love
don't know.
to a rough school called Holmfield
roll from where I still live to

passed the all-important test (or
n I got offered a place at sixth
d school called North Halifax
there... And yet physically she
ose it happens sometimes. Boys and

she had no tits whatsoever, not
rst exchanged words with Karen. She
tuding God-knows-what in the
cked up a book at random ("Human
hose another) and wandered over to
down she jumped and I apologised.
if I sit here?"
nd staring, as if her brain had hit
h it's filing cabinets. When her
'd found me. You can't forget some
them. You just can't.
a few hellos in the corridors for
got the piss taken out of me for
h year tart" so for a while
my best to avoid contact with
idn't understand the appalling
er pressure).
frenetic talker, something which
with her. Throughout her childhood
e me, a very minor amount of true,

talk very quickly (and she'll be
a voice I find... Wonderful. Just
sixth form, we'd become very good
with our homework down the deserted
er school (Karen doesn't live very
my writing and she showed great
tions for a few (admittedly
d down simply because she'd been

it was just a teenage fetish - when
a fantastic legend.
manuscripts to read - beginning,
building up to my more intense,
e time I left school we were ready
ther of us poured anything out. One
the direction of partners and
red up enough confidence to direct
shame, because I think we're STILL

ver look at or desire any other
my perfect partner. Another stupid
I masturbated over a girl I knew
with" with that girl - it was the
d, "existing-person" wank. By the
m I'll bet there was only Gemma and
my list... It was as though I was
"no, I won't jack off over you

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

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

ren and I hugged for the first time

, like I could crush her if I put
re. This, I fully expected: her
her precious to me... Like a rare
ing destroyed - ruined - by the
rs. I was as gentle as I have been
d this pleased me. I think a kiss
ose against her cheek, but alas, we
opposite each other on the floor
hand, Karen with a bright yellow
, nothing but her usual, empty

not caring much; she shouldn't have

uge deserts all over the island,"
ike the Sahara, only not as hot or
fuckin cool, yeah. Like- really

my book. Waited. Glanced. Her eyes

e. She has a way of looking at me -
ok - which I find mysteriously
. Those who believe personality is
"eject" from a person and "insert"
ery twitch, every move, EVERYTHING
g this entry for two and a quarter
hing about Karen. She borders on

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

freezing." I laughed too. "Of
ou could fry an egg on the floor.
an egg on the floor cos it'd get

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

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

tell you next time, maybe."

ey, have you written any more

gerly, ignoring her question.
ou got anythin for me to read or
ies and your book and stuff?"
actually believe I'm gonna get a
? They won't write back Karen, they
dumb teenager."
know you're a teenager."
They will. I'm not experienced

yelled, echoing the Tunnel. The
ckin negative all the time okay?
positive. They WILL reply because I
. Anyway," She stood and looked
I'll miss my bus. S'been nice.

o's this somebody you met?"

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

wrist has gone numb I will see you


d up. Here's something I haven't

re Karen works. It was my second
son (my first being at a branch of
eople there were so stuck up I quit
ted about a month, working after-
first week I thought it was okay -
ivers up my spine - and then a new
erything went haywire.
the way I looked, the way I stacked
my fucking pencil. In the end I
upid fat arse and left - setting
warehouse alight on my way home.
lst I'm on the subject, lasted just
position with a re-vamp crew who
massive new supermarket just out
ts which is how I came to find this
t just wasn't for me: I got
of tools (I never was any good at
read by the gaffer himself - the
rlie bastard. I thought that kind
's ugly head in school playgrounds.
mad and trashed the half-
wn shelves and cupboards and
howed up when I'd done, narrow-eyed
do you think you're doing?" he
zzare (and horribly self-indulgent)
s next Stephen King and that one
HSmiths with a copy of my latest
or a signature. Of course, the guy
ed to a loud "Go home and fuck your
T you fat cunt!" before he could

. They drain your life away like
ny's lips by some kinda gigantic,
I call it the Vortex
y polite lady in a fur coat just
in a gorgeously cheerful and
D? Sorry about this. Let me pick
t like about Karen is her apparent
ur months of full-time work I think
s. Extended chat (yes, even for
g products, barcodes and prices is
re she went on holiday she was
ful things we used to talk about -
ng to change the world... Nothing
ymore. I gave her a redraft of the
she took it home and brought it
ied that she'd read it. I know
he new nightmare sequence' I'd put
rful'... Only I hadn't written a

urse (though I often wonder if

ht but it doesn't look like it (the
. I'm surprised none of my other
y... Tim, Steve, Gemma... er...
at a fucking popular guy I am.
some dark, handsome bloke whilst
ed with him. If that's the case I'm
experience is okay (I got mine from
s eleven, believe it or not) but
thing long-term... Surely, please

today. An unwelcome black figure
hate that dump... The moment I
matic doors, it brought the few
ave-employment I'd spent there

uch memory; it's not like I could
had been entirely revamped with
taff. I think it was just...

ren't as many as there was when I
were still around alright: I
rds behind the lawnmower displays -
ttling like giant black crickets,
I don't know what they do, what
t suck up the dust, but they
how big they are because they're
dn't be surprised if - out in the
as your average cat.
.. But there are no moths in Retail

see me until I'd finished my
r counter, folded my arms and
er neighbour and turned to face me,

the fuck're YOU doin here?"
look like?" I said.
er, as if she couldn't quite grasp
ght in front of her, in the fucking
ked at the stuff I intended to buy

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

annoyed. Good.
voiding the queue simply because
ings about looking like an insane
of Dis is that most people tend to
like death at the moment.
what they call em, no shit) and
er till bleeped.
hat you're doing... But..."
at's what I'm doing."
She looked at me, seriously. Karen
she tries, but it's a rare and
more convincing attempts. I gave

neath the counter and flopped it
r somethin?"

ed the rope through. I bagged it

ixty nine... Stu-u?"
ver. She took it. "See ya later

change and recipt- Stu, will you be
me to come down and talk... Stu

ors cut me off from her beautiful,
ing, colourful, Bug-infested world

The moths are big big big. And

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

our brother?" - That before he'd

n answer." He collapsed beside me,
rner of his mouth.
ething in my notebook. "Three
eve bolted upright. "You made a
t. How did your parents react to

said to his son. `Very

hings tonight, Steve," I said and
ery tired."
bject slightly, say something

I tell you?)

habit, right?"
e nobody has ever offered me a

cking dick,' I thought, but
, just to see where it all ended
Love Your Brother More Than You'
cope... For the first time ever,
ctually done some serious research
ps spoken to Richard, or even Mum.
serious about (excuse the

holding his fag out.
rprise, and stubbed it out on the
s, Steve."
ut of his nut to realise what I'd
lips, found nothing there, flopped

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

t the nail more-or-less on the head
ion he deserved a respectful
bombardment. By not answering, I
is suspicions either. Perhaps he'd
her idea, thinking this one had

ithus?" He blurted suddenly. I
d, crawling for the southern box.
who `wins' the next time Steve
yes indeed). But we'll see.


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

odles... And then suddenly I'm
e observer. Being scrutinized and
t down beside me, peering inquisi-

. "You paintin things?" She
d diagrams I'd been doing. "Can I
eded to draw a surprisingly
ddenly she stopped and looked at me
How can you make pictures with no

sider a response, a sharp female

what've I told you about talkin

mpered hastily towards the source
slap and a muffled yelp echoed
ootsteps receded.

please - come and put the colours

eep domestic bollocks out of this
, I won't have any choice but to
y parents WILL find this place...
is piece of work, this study of

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

I'll undoubtedly KILL the

and Dad, why don't you just come
ou just bring your shitty little
e on come on come on come on come

t. Patience is the key, I think.
hen they've nothing better to do
ly ever to return.
plaining. I reckon one of my


osaic tiles have fallen away in the

incidence of course, but it's quite
eard one of the fragments fall out
, but I'll be fucked if I can find

not too keen on hanging around
astard would turn up.


ght. That's a long way for you,
y. Much better to get a car and
t a life, get grown-up.
s to walk - not run, jog, sprint,
- all the way back home, from the

ing. How?
o fall back into my own chaotic
t like trying to fall asleep: the
is never remembered, never quite
to and from this place - it takes
es to quite literally "leave myself
y I really believe I'm somewhere
dunno, I dunno what/where it is.
inutes, I'm not sure, I CAN'T be

elf occupied while walking to a
urse, to simply observe your
the people, the activities, the
raction of walking in the first
s to these `normal' methods if the
gular (or both).
d idea during the daytime, but at
ur ears to function as they should
s kick his head in nick it", etc).
agined small goblin-type creatures
yself occupied. These ugly monsters
e aircraft. Destination Tunnel. Or
e them weather reports, ETA's,
tractions with my imaginary
t the menu... Anything to keep the

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

ongest "body leave" I've ever had.

ssing Karen>
ingworth? Yes Illingworth!---
sus I'm back home. Stop at the
d, scratch head, glance at watch

el" shit could really be something
ased my physical fitness - Jesus, I
s just the repetitiveness that's

st been on through. Isn't that nice
to call in and see me?
in a thin voice and sat down
sighed as she rummaged through
all piece of lined A4 with a few
just offered it. I paused before



jealous I met somebody."

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

pin round and round
ide my head
I let you down
ss thing I said

I watch the birds
eams I fly
beyond the hills
by your side

ment. Folded it up. Gave it back to
I did, I wrote it." She gasped.

ed. "Thanks."
I take it back. I looked at the
I did take it back. And I smiled

short little skirt down, giving me
id my notebook back into

to ME Mr Nice Guy Chesters," Karen
u may think you're some kind of
tell you now, you're fucking NOT
it, but you're NOT. You thought
t you? Nobody at all. And now some-
fuckin jealous aren'tcha. Well
haky breath. "The boy... The man I
ream come true, do you see what I'm
ER had come true. I want to be with
too, because you're my best friend,
g it so fuckin hard... You're
on't you just say you're jealous,
ow where we fuckin stand, just say

amed at her and threw my book down

she whispered. "Okay, I'm going,
ned and began to walk away. Her
oseflesh. She started weeping...
to the night.
t and stupid laugh.

k to write this entry, I found a

ys, they've always-

esterday didn't you? Well forget
oing after people. I'm sick of it.
has to hang on tightly to the
he one, always, I'm treated like
with it all. Well bollocks.

night's little episode with Karen.

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

dow slid away. S'gone now, and I
tch her. Perhaps she's a ghost. A
know... Hell, maybe it's not Dianne
e, up in my head... But I don't
ounded... Stomach-curve?

es with real terror in them down
aving now: a sort of skin-tingling,
nside with cold needles. The whole
n I'm scared. Like seeing it under

lypropylene rope. A bundle of
les. A cigarette lighter. A healthy
oths. Buzzing lights that don't
mosaic stones; icy and tiny and
new crack in the wall beside the

seriously, just what the fuck am I

ere. Huddled up near the southern
l my footsteps began to echo.
. She didn't take any notice: with
rp breath, she was up, backing

chase her - you know as well as I
d that.
to today's entry.
ht. I got a rejection slip today,
story compendium being launched
um's been getting on my tits all
g about on my computer without
op of writing... Or anything else

e, I MUST. I don't know who I am,
find out.

t stop for a chat. He was with a
, as per usual.
e of the scruffy one,"
ggin bowl?"
the same in here.
e him alone," - Jee, some defence
n, Stu?"

iginal insults out - I get most of
e by listening to Tim's mates
of it's hilarious. Tonight I've
ermy bullethole", "cockwash",
"maggot man" - although, glancing
ter (a converted telephone book), I
ust scrub that out. Yup, done.
d, I received (from Tim obviously)
More Stories Published?' but on
ring ----> (a) it didn't even
im Nice But Dim really wanted an
back in here and repeated himself.
sn't it? Can't you see it? I can
right as a cock in a mousetrap:
. They don't care about me, or each
ve of sub/urban youth. Everything's
king it extinct. And hope, don't

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

other day was pretty harsh. Not a
where. In fact, it seems to me
y put me off the writing business

hurt these days - a hell of a lot
ax Workshop period - but stuff of
couraging nature, really does get

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

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

the word `fuck'? Why do you find
n of four letters and roughly means
te you know! I mean... Why do you
the entire population of this
ucking basis, too?
`fuck' into my prose just for the
k, you're very wrong indeed. I
writers - about the present,
ter what their age, background or
call `bad language' or `swearing',
t, in fact.
men talking in the street? Have
ing in the playground? There is no
raid. It's one of those small
simply must be accepted.
ot even if it soon becomes, as I
ble replacement for the commonly
or `bleeding'?
Until then, please cancel my
g shitty little 'zine.

ebody walked through: a black man


ferent visions, same moths,
f my thoughts, half-asleep-

to tell you:
with a box of tools sauntered up
the flyover. The advert it
antic film - was way out of date,
zens of felt-tip and spraycan

watching, smiling, unseen in the
his work. He packed up his tools
my Tunnel.
towards him - so pathetically blank

be normal down here in the misty

- and found I was looking into...
king. Empty, bottomless, looking

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

all over. Nausea washed over me. My
ple passed. Avoiding me.
er, but what does it matter?



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

hite flame of a cigarette lighter,
e moths have appeared as they
nd the thought of burning them
ng this book for all the bitter
o consider self-combustion.

the weather in this industrial
y swing when self-discussed. They
ing nets... Try to scrape me back
divine punishment I'm not quite

m- I HAVE thought- I HAVE thought-
d has CRACKED-]
here in this town - and listen to
is alive, this place is living,
eating and destroying mutant moths,
, it's spinal cord, it's lover and
on) will CLICK.
wait - my unassigned tools buried
scribble as always, popping my
mmers in the social seas... And
moths dance and the shadows of
e lights buzz (like the growlnoise
un my fingers across my skin and
man but the skin of a shark, a

other chunk of the mosaic unlodge
t lightening speed, but, as always,
ce of fallen stone.
w we have a T ladies and gents. A


appen today, something that could
u can read this. I dont like

the bedroom window! Arrived beside
umed by a cold, cloudy darkness,
s the woman who'd given birth to me
rid her home of every trace of a

said that before,
red about me using language like
ndemned it. Still, she shouldn't
y quilt, should she? Not at half
n the day God told us all to

lad, cool it. Play back the tape,
's something special, something
DO. Okay, okay, here goes.


go now."

s alone!"
round. Fishcirclemouths, but no

n in an explosion of glass and
tched the shining dice bounce and
rs and weeds in its path, until it

ent and the front door was locked.
othes and walked away.

your heart?

re because you've suddenly become
eader, the piper, the freeman... A
ndscape of a planet you arrived on
awkward customers.
sionate moment between two randy
cessary precautions. Lumbered with
ng damnation by a mother obsessed

ike a product in a supermarket. I'm
hool I attended, a brick in their
I'm a human doormat for lazy,
judged by others via a physical
on-existant God. Trapped in a

eets of this doomed planet, with no
tening to an abnormal heart-beat.

rld war - an end to the suffering
elfish species that does not

of time and matter. But there is a
y-obtained power, offered by true -
of this is escape from pressure.
And another part is certainty -

to the Tunnel.


to good... Fed to evil... what?
dreams. Link worlds. Funny how the
a gentle, cosy bedbeater what? I
ny of life's domestic requirements
at now what?
hy don't you just speak louder, I

er I suppose I'd better go and take
em, I dunno, tink them. The walls
hat mean I'm cracking too? And why
day compared to every other day
led bit beside my unicorn where the


d and I'm terrified because I've
ss, but I'm alright.
en't particularly comforting
over the past few weeks I think
a, so I'm not gonna panic. If this
I'm gonna let it say it. I'm not
run! SHI T FU c
t. If you scribble shite like that
deep shit: this diary IS you, boy.
in the shape of four letters. I
blurry, messy, anger - I must have
e sense of things - well, better
evidence right up front, right
Right there!
15 16 17 18 19 20 21 21 22 23 24 25
shit. Shit

e thing - all fucking day is quite
I've spent a hell of a lot of time
ery exciting - I must have looked
s since the start of the year, and
'll be fucked if I'm gonna sit down
ay afternoon, soaking up abuse from
eless! I've got a home! - and it's
e walking, DICKWEEDS.
the fuck is happening I don't
o call. I have some change and I
m the dole office but I'm due for
NG WEEK what am I going to do
ht, darling. I am hoping they'll
e, supper's in the oven, there's
a nice family get-together

ed up and down the Tunnel twenty
ve minutes. What the fuck am I
ould go back and talk to Mum and

of friends - loads of writing
ill going; the writer's group -
opped did I? Why Stu? Because you
tually doing >> FUCK ALL << down
ay? O fucking great, as if she's
ucking great, I'm stuck here in

d put the colours in now, I would
please put the colours in

ote in my hand.
ing this up, and I'm- I swear that
t happened. The words - STAy - are
them... But I feel like laughing,

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

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

to the metal fence that boxes off
eally do take a while to get
w, and for a while I couldn't hear
ght or anything - anything at all -
ever-buzzing (ever-living?) lights.
y shouted. I turned round, stared
w was a short, scruffy tube, which
chunk of the London Underground.
goblin, sat precariously (with it's
th) on the fence I'd just crashed
. I couldn't make a sound, never

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

s that's right, you read correctly

ns I used to offer a lift to. The
e out of my coat pocket on the
American accent, oddly enough) how
e, and that he wanted a FUCKING
FUCKING kip (only my coat doesn't
hat but (shit no) he didn't

ke a blown-up paper bag and dressed
ith silver studs, rather like the
dressed up in - whip in one hand,
red him alright. The only thing I
ittle twat's name.
able right now," I knew what he was
a lift. Well fuck you, gobb-o, I
ore. Been chucked out, didn'tcha
hing bastarding cunting mother.

ur mam would dump you out on the
he goblin, edging around on the
uckin shitniggle like that stop ya
snatched his cigar out and pointed
mething. "I got urgent business to
t a coupla human footsteps short've
here that dump is don'tcha?"
roduced the ten pound note that now
ages of this diary. "Ten fuckin
've made every fuckin night since
er. Think about it, Chesters." The
standards). "Whatchoo gonna do
? You gotcha self a Tunnel, yeah,
fuckin package. If you wanna keep
to your bones, you'd better start
little cunt's name.

it that easy, Chesters," The cigar
this time pointed downhill. He
hift yourself,' "Five for me, five
's the deal."
oked down. There was another
in the brightly illuminated
ouette, like the shadow of a badly

k about it," I said reluctantly.
agnus. "Did you hear-" But he was
to take. "Thanks," I snatched it
my nose. "Come on then, climb

my coat pocket and lifted it
inside pocket?" he grumbled,
zard-like eyes. "Fuck me Chesters,
et in my pocket, hands on the
g himself into the deep end. "No
took it and stamped on it. He

ly and foul-mouthed shitbag) by
the Tunnel. He rolled like a
(properly, I mean, unlike the
ther night when Karen turned on the
shit no, this was REAL laughter).
med T'Nucy Nit.
im up like a big dog turd. I
st, suddenly accepting - and
long, dragging minutes of endless
hing the Beechwood Road turn-off
like two big, green boxing gloves
ither side.
to the library, I plucked the
ion Men and eased them down onto

They both shrieked in chorus and
by the roadside wall. "Always put
owed, unseen. "Joo want the whole

re now featherlight but full of
shit or something), then announced:
ers, gentlemen. Have a pleasant

out to swirl round for the journey
Confused Man's Journey, I was
now visible again, screamed up
et we're lookin after you, fucko!

sick of this shit you ugly little

w-orange eyes twinkling like fire

s will take you." He hissed. With-
that supposed to mean?" I shifted
ght slid up the wall, stealing the
n... Except there was no trace of
, glistening spiderwebs and rain-

d microscopic. "Hey, are you

wind. I looked back down the road
ntly... Getting closer. I stood
il the light source exploded and I
at it was: car headlights.
ead - those goblins were heavier
ite badly - and the car rattled
river of rainwater. I watched it,
n only describe as `an air of
same scene (the night, the cold,
tlight, I could see the colour of

(or at least TRY to get some
with the goblins was real or
ked into my underpants.
etter buy myself a few changes of
m I going to wash? How am I going

change in the Tunnel: I've walked

: these entries are going to get a

it back to me today. A memory - my
perience - perhaps the underlying
ith the idea of rape. Rape

lled Nina, eight years since, and
ing next door and working in some
na they called her, and never
oor, only I lost my ball over the
knock, I had to had to knock.
d the door closed. Warm, funny,
the echo of a radio somewhere (I
urniture and alien ornaments and
he went and sat on the settee and
and then out into the green
ch was resting contently in a patch

e wall from her garden! The whole
t, the whole of it: jagged-hole
clean white sky, so I stayed for a
nd her back and I turned and said
ne and she said no, it's okay, and
it and smelt it and saw that she
t mine (manners and all that even
but it was hot); freezing ice,
ess as her lips turned bronze and

e fridge. If you ever want one,

r white blouse thing... Hung
ny yellow like dog's wee. She
ascinated because her (what
ere and plain to shape beyond that
I had ever been before to

tton clicked open (more skin and
a centrefocus for my eyes only she
mind me looking. Cold sticky
dn't hardly touched my lolly, even
, catching flies as Mum would say.
he street and friends yelled, Mum
some birds flew overhead in a
hhh," there was a little nipple
ler, much much smaller than Mum's
eally liked it, my lolly dropped on
d and look look looked.
lolly up and down and round the
h, more at me, like she wanted to
s were so blue I couldn't stare for
nd pink and so big nipples did
eally nice she was beautiful, I

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

tuart... Come on."
nside sweet-smelling tatty house,
Shhhhhhh," buttons undone

est, clung to pinkish red nipples,

en anythin like this you have never

n't tell anybody, okay?"
uldn't speak so nodded yes yes yes
but paul won't tell anybody else

ve to shake. It's okay."
ght you never said this happened
had to be older I-
my fanny as well. Honest. Go on

vel. I reached out and up and- and-
not like skin I had wanted to feel
fingers across not soft but hard
n Nina made a noise so I snatched

cked bronze lips. Bead of wee still
reathing... And her chest was

breath soft lips against mine,
she too was shaking- sweating-
e free of home friends mum brother
as she licked and pulled up
thing in her mouth and then things
carried me to different places and
to herself as I watched through
stiff branch that was my own
k like these days now in Adult

ith us both on it bottom top bottom

few days, and forever after when I

mory. There are great problems. And
ree, is the fact that I'm quite

t... Perhaps from a dream, perhaps
. But it did NOT happen, not in

Perhaps I made up the part where I
ked up thoughts - and recorded a
as if to say to myself, my REAL

take another eight fucking years

I spend in this place now that the
t... I'm engraving marks in the
my friend STAy over there.
on some boxer shorts, some sand-
ull of fruit from one of the stalls
retch the dosh because I'm sure
be back tonight, outside the
I'll be very happy to oblige.

I took a slow bite from the Boots'
se one of the voices... (could it
or a moment I was filled with so
l Karensound that I let a gooey
outh and splat on the floor like
uldn't! needles & pins and I ached
she was with somebody ELSE this
ur friends TONIGHT?)

hofootsteps. And then in they came
f them, masking their lower faces

ike she was talking to me over a
. "What the fuck's going on?"
mpanion (whatsisname? what?), a
of a bloke.
desperately, almost bleeding with
ed hot and lightning fast - shoot
entured into my lair like marines
make a sound but all I got was a
was stuck there - an elastic band,

Karen help me please)]

me like a pirate for treasure and
e her some time. "WHAT HAPPENED!"
t like that one but I couldn't see
ell her hair her touch her being...
nose and mouth to stop running but
words like "how are you?" and "mum
e basic hints of communication
w, attractive, Poor Stuart way. It
e Mr Hunky.
you, I'm Bruce," He offered me his
squeezed it tightly to show I
The guy was big and the guy was
you don't fuck with people who talk
rfucker, or who see the Retail Bugs
. "Go, please..." I waved them
h other not an appalling mess like
ckfannies don'tcha see how shallow

gged my sleeve. "I want you to
re... We'll find somewhere for
we will) "We'll gotoa-a-a-"


o my jumper. That was when Bruce
uzz of the Machine's stomachlights
ck statue from a mythical film (I
Argonaughts") and about as
tion as a cup of cold coffee on a

y. "It's quite obvious to me that
e this guy a medalion) "Are you
over this subway?" (it's not a
The Drug Tunnel) "Can't you smell
round, wrinkling his nose up.
ss, how do you think it's going to
is chin again, that lovely spiky
etween Karen's cuntlips yet has it
en's is a friend of mine. I can
offer a place to kip because I
ing with Karen at the moment," (I
inst me) "But I can give you

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

ut of my coat and took a few
xi service."
ew I was lying, but I just winked.
y mean, what they symbolise? Or do
socialgolem's cock inside you all

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

beeped midnight.
ruce whispered. "It's morning now.
tugged her jacket.

rectly under my message "ENDLESS

breathed and stopped massaging his

d to."

mean you can tell?"

hurt so much to just leave it as
n: "Isn't she?" I added (please
rugged. "Maybe she was for a while,
t's over now. Perhaps a fantasy, me
e smiled to himself. "She said I

coarsely, viciously.
to my hostile eyes, before nodding

I wasn't whispering anymore - in

ke her."
er, will you?"

of me wanted to cry part of me
purt the blood across the walls of
the smug hedgehog chin out of the
ng beast (that had stolen my yes
ted to curl up and go to sleep and
was over but the real real real
ruth from a single surviving
nd corrupted heart told me it was
tion my own lack of self-
ef self-power self self self self

ow crouched beside me. "I'll tell
l tell her how I feel, okay?
ow she will. I mean- shit, just

e rubbed his eyes. "You're right,
t I ever will be. I like her, a
on, a great friend, and christ we
But what you said a few moments
sex is all I wanted." He looked

at last and I wondered: are you
ou see?]
ed down at the sleeping girl.
d away, and I was left with a patch
ew would fade so quickly I would
up in his arms.

ight, we're going home."
morrow, I promise," She called over
as cherries. "Take care, don't go
, I proh-hom-iss..."
opped thinking fucked up thoughts)
t the little guys were back, so I
s to prepare myself for the long

s perch on the fence. "You gotta
ey don't keep on being the young-
te! They grow up! And there's
uit moping around and wipe that
got places to go, am I right?

," I nodded. "Right."
d and we were off - no delays. The
rs didn't complain as much as they
y as I enjoyed myself.
d made up that bizzare sexual
ibly have become so vivid and

d slot into place around the non-
L, make it feel as though it DID
ime, there was a voice whispering
at home when you overheard your
en you saw Nina naked one day!
e you should try and remember the
following all this? or are you
ked-up conscience?"
ories tonight, but I did come back
pounds in my pocket, and now...

wn the old ones in the bushes -
ips & sauce) and I'm now going to
to watch the moths (or are they
il I fall asleep.
m going to "solve a jigsaw puzzle"

t under the Tunnel, I was outside,
sually lingers. I had been blown, I
d leaves. According to my watch it
d and stiff and starving, so I

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

help me. And let's face it, I do
confidence anymore, no faith, no
Well, no nothing...

diary - I'm obviously going insane,
t happens to me- what I see through
ell should I make it up? I spend
bother making a fictional diary
ll I look back and remember it that
reality from fantasy?
know what's real, what's unreal,

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

nd reached into my pocket like I
or a gun or something but instead I
empty wine bottle, which crack-
nel leaving me with a circular-
s slowed walking - stopped walking
ned, slowly, grinning.
emen." I smiled, holding up the
ass rolled out of it, hit the
ee the whole of the crane, not just

ing at me, drunk as usual but
t - me, his friend, his contact,
Twilight Zone, gone mad, turned
tion, I think - and I advanced as
some still giving me abuse, but in
ogetic voice.
hurt us master, we're sorry-]
they realised the smell and the
he walls and the new grafitti done
hat might be my own and might not
e, come to Daddy...
d, his voice fresh and new and low
beneath the Tim. The darkest depths
and kicked me and driven me to
back. "What the fuck are you gonna
e head with that, eh? You're fucked

electricity. My fingers were
skin was running with sweat.
ough clenched teeth.
just go-"
box. Three more. Tim in the lead,
ter all, I was his friend.
huckled, arms held out. "You're
at, are ya Stu, eh? You're just a

had screamed and that I was the
l night with the teenage girls -
g men, terrified of insanity,
le held high and ready to strike.
ded but I do remember slicing open
his back and slashing him across the
thought I would trip. I remember
blinding me, filling my mouth,

unnel and collapsing not with the
inkle of glass and the crack-whip

ember... Except her warmth. I do
die, soon, I can sense it. They
I am satisfied that tonight I chased
way, away, away from here and I am
spread his guts all over this

who hurt you in the past or you
k the breakup. I took the risk
ship, two-sided friendship - would
s who deep down d n't give a fuck
earted, throughout?

iddle all over the kitchen floor
fun and the Bug did a million more,

er yellow-white like puddles and
n. I am in a cardboard tube, a
d out but I'm not allowed to leave.
re like rivers of melted butter
With Karen.
m said you could have the spare
not staying here, I won't let-"

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

ter that, crying I think, though
flutter, like little heating fans,
ound my face.
n the road that the things we
Wine bottles, rope, black bags,
kwork and made-up-fantasies. They
zle to solve - crack that and
ing for anything to happen and
ion what I wait f r doesn't exist
y head) up here, do you get it
nning to make sense.
iddle that is Steve today when he
low butter) and stopped and
ad he turned to pity and offered
I took, before I hooked the rope
im across the ground, nearer and
on-swap, nearer and nearer to the
e beast, and I swung him ---> I
aling and crying and bleating like
ut into the monster's buttercoated
s then his body to the waist, then
ut of my world, out of my nest, out

ad as I flicked the lighter up and
for his voice to leave like the
n't ever be back.
, though he didn't hear, and I can,
in here.
back to see if I was still alive
a police man with him through the
o be a big binliner he was holding
it, something caught, something

it, yes."
mates, he looked different, not a
e of his eyes was a different

asked him.
irst," he replied, smiling.
and he waved before disappearing
y after the dimension flash, the
swish and rattle - big it was,
and staggered up and took hold of

, the plastic clash of legs, the
mell of Retail Bug shit - black
e shape of bullets, I sensed - as
to throb and thrash and kick and

and c ld. Tore through my jeans,
on the bag and skidded down onto
d yelped and eventually leaped free
, it spr ng for the southern box,
nd a dimension flash.
the Tunnel and chasing the
on't remember getting to here, laid
ere in the dark. Magnus said some-
ed to pieces with glass in the back
andering aimlessly by a man

d Magnus climbed out of my pocket.
mmersault, sat up and made his eyes

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

, mainly of Karen. Remember being
wn into mine.

nking s mething, being told
yt ing.

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

my eyes. Se med excited. Quite a
hink I h ve met before. Papers

ve you ."
t m t be good ne s, unless of
aking it up... Or whate er. I

n ' s r n ou