YOU FUCK OFF BECAUSE YOU FUCKIN WANT TO

And why the fuck shouldn’t you? One thing’s for sure, if you stay you fuckin suffocate, suffocate in fucking normality, and normality is her fuckin chipping away at you night and fuckin day and all that other FUCKING SHITE so pocket that bottle fill your bag with that cider that lager them barleys grab your fucking bank-card fags cash stick your guitar on your back and get the FUCKIN FUCK OUT and yeh the birds are singing and yeh the sun is up and yeh this is the fucking start of it so C’MON get down that FUCKIN road. (A lorry. Give it some thumb and what do you know.) Yeh mate, yeh, Sheff’s good. Goin fuckin walkabout, know what I mean? When you’ve had a fuckinough you’ve had a fuckinough, yeh? And fair enough he looks at you like you’re a fuckin headcase but what the fuck, you don’t give a flyin fuck what he thinks and you tell him, tell him what the FUCK were I thinking about? Gettin fuckin married for fuck’s sake! Fuckin hell! What a CUNT! Might as well just nail my fuckin arse to a wall, yeh? And yeh he looks sideways at you half-iffy/half-like-he-knows-what-the-fuck-you’re-talking-about growling his gear-stick telling you he’s been married twenty-three years less for murder blah blah blah but he’s still fucking married inhe but you’re gonna humour the sad cunt cos he’s taking you to Sheff for the start of it all and all is freedom from fuckin FUCKERS who wanna tie you to a fucking chair do this do that do the fuckin other, FUCKING FUCK OFF!... Wanna drinka this? Nah, course you don’t, driving yeh?... What? Ahhh right, yeh I’ll get the fuckin fuck out, fucking stupid old twat, yeh go on FUCK OFF stupid FUCKER! (Slam the fucking door. BANG!) CUNT!...  Ahhh so fuckin what go lie back on this grass drink this fuckin wine not worried not worried at all cos this is the fuckin start of it get that fuckin guitar out and fucking FUCK YOU nosey bitch seen enough or WHAT?... FUCK OFF TO YOUR SAD FUCKING FUCKING wherever it is you’re fucking goin to in your sad fucking little car WELLLLLL JIMMY PLAYED HARMONICA IN THE PUB WHERE I WAS BORN... Fuckin WHAT?... YEH?... SEEN ENOUGH? FUCK THE FUCK OFF! WELLLLLL, JIMMY PLAYED... YEH GO ON, FUCKIN FUCK YOURSELF! ... PLAYED HARMONICA IN THE PUB WHERE I WAS BORN ... PLAYED IT FROM... Well well well, what do you fuckin know… Here come the fucking busies… Hello you fucking wankers, yeh yeh slow down take a good fucking look you fucking titty-headed fuckbags… LOOK! THIS IS WHAT THE FREE FUCKIN PEOPLE OF THE FREE FUCKIN STATE OF FUCKIN BILLY DO!...  Yeh, that’s it, get out of your fucking fucking... HEY! WHAT’S DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A COP-CAR AND A FUCKIN HEDGEHOG, EH?... HEDGEHOG HAS PRICKS ON FUCKIN OUTSIDE YEH?... What the fuck’s it got to do with you?... So I’m just drinking this nice fucking bottle of fucking Leibfraufuckingmilch on a fucking Friday morning in the fucking sun, so what’s the fuckin problem, eh? So what if it is a fucking Thursday, excuse me Mr fucking Ploddyplodplod… HEY!... WATCH THE FUCKING GUITAR CUNTIE! HEY!... NO NEED NO FUCKING NEED!... C’MON THEN YER FUCKING PIG FUCKERS LET’S FUCKIN HAVE IT THEN, YEH HOW DO YER FUCKIN LIKE THAT YER FUCKIN...

In this cell you are small. They’ve taken your belt and your shoelaces. You break a little. You put your hands over your face so they don’t see. They don’t listen when you shout for water, Please. Your tongue is so dry it feels too big for your mouth. You don’t sleep. Someone behind the door shouts BASTARDS BASTARDS. You think you can see an old man crouched and watching you in that dark corner over there. You try and make spit to drink but you can’t. In the morning they give you half a plastic cup of warm water. Across your tongue they drag a cotton bud which they drop into a plastic bag with your name on it. They take your fingerprints, your photograph, and then when you get home, she tells you she’s pregnant.

 

44. Scarlett, look!

42. Sunlight

 
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