The sun hid behind thicker friends, ashamed of last nights antics. She could not show her face, I understood. Flash Back played loudly the melody of sin.
Instead as I left the bunker I was greeted by Bitter Chill who had not yet rested from the self destruction that pumped through us all last night. Bitter Chill, so relentless. He approached with a look of regret and shame and we swiftly fell into an awkward, accidental embrace as he began to loose his footing. Thinking on my own unstable feet I managed to disguise the dance of destruction as a swirl of intentional jest. I have been Bitter Chill and have too needed the embrace of understanding.
"one foot in front of the other" I said to him.
"one foot in front of the other" I said to myself!
Step by step...steady to the beat of sin.
I longed deeply to return to the bunker to converse with Love once again; as we had last night. Laughter struggling for sound over eighties records and tears... for all the years that got lost! My head hurt with an ache mimicked by that longing in my heart for those moments to come again!
We had not been that honest and united for quite some time. It would seem that Lord Lust, Stupidity and Destructive streak had plotted to eliminate my friendship with Love. The reasons for which I still cannot gather. But the consequences of such nonsense are now condemned to memory and mocking.
How ludicrous it seems now that such a fortress of a friendship could have been placed for imminent corrosion. Love had been my rock for so long, and heeled even the parts of me that had been violated by hate.
This heart very nearly turned to stone.
Love should never walk alone.
"one foot in front of the other" I said...again to my own ears.
"one foot in front of the other" I said, this time to anyone who could hear.
The whole of the world seemed to be struggling today. Bitter Chill and I stumbled giving in to the demands of necessity. We stood out like sore thumbs. Like a happy heart beat hidden by drums. Like a herbal tea in a liquor store.
"one foot in front of the other", I exclaimed.
Echo threw my words right back at me... wrapped up in mocking tones. They ricocheted of my Nike Air Max hitting Sorrow right in the eye. I couldn't help allowing Giggle out from under a stone. I watched beads of ruby red hit the Icy floor, free falling from Sorrow's chin.
Thank god for my Nike's, I spoke out load. Bitter Chill gave a grumble, implying that he agreed. Cheekily I winked at the flopping sole of my shoe. It flopped back as though in reply.
My Nike air Max were battered with necessity, as Bitter Chill and I were too. These shoes battled Sorrow today, I thought... with a glint in my eye!
The soles were covered in holes. The main part of the shoe almost appearing dismembered. Its cushioned base nearly walking alone, as so many of us do. London laughed with every step I took, knowing Glamour and I fell out with New.
But is it not that something must be whole in order to have a hole in it? For if an entity is not whole, surely the holes are just gaps. Over which bridges may one day be built
There were plenty of gaps in the soles of my shoes, as the soles are no longer whole.
There is still a little soul in these shoes.
Still a little hole in this soul.
The very next day...
Part 2: Road Closed
Time had reluctantly woken me from a dream...Necessity bickered with Bothered. Half way along the bridge between a dream scape and reality, I was smacked in the soul with a love that was hole. The smack in the form of a kiss. Necessity and Reality's chaotic chatter seems slightly more bearable when Love is there. She brings a cool breeze when things get heated. Never spreading the fire with angry winds.
Thought and Wordplay began to draw invisible circles around my head, hummingbirds dancing before dinner. Love never intervenes, quite the opposite in fact. She encourages them together with Flashback, who reminds me of the smack this morning.
I unite with a costume...Necessity and Reality approve. I doubt their sincerity and consider that fact that they probably don't really care. However Love reassures me that no one really does. I smile inside, holding hands with Blatant Disregard and vacate the bunker. I spin into a woken moment. Turning to lock the door, I see scratched into the peeling paint:
' SLEEPING BEAUTY DOESN'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE!'
I greet the Hounds of Hell, and strap each into a harness. The taller of the two sneering slightly knowing that she stole a story from a slightly sombre world. For every moment that I am escorted by Necessity to this hideous domain, a dream is aborted and the soul of a story left to roam within the unknown. The larger of the two beasts delights in the notion that she is in control.
The smaller of the two gnaws at my patience with ear piercing screams. She weaves past Strength and Love biting week spots where she can. She then cocks her leg and pisses streams of putrid urine all over my Nike Air Max. The last of the soul in the shoes runs for cover...Sorrow now enters the room!
Forced to walk barefoot, I pound the city streets. London understands today and ensures all the lights are green. I walk fast and hard on blisters to deliver a parcel of innocence to Decay. Respect stops to ask for directions, it seems he lost his way! Decay signs for the parcel with light and bony fingers, reminding me that all obligation is theft. Part of the day with Necessity was close to being done. I muster a smile from half a pint of tears; knowing it looks insincere, I turn and am on my way.
Thought and Wordplay still hovering round my head, colourful feathers fluttering at the speed of light. I stop at a shop on the way home, to browse for an easier life. I hit the glass door headfirst...reading the sign:
'BACK IN FIVE'.
Distracted by my feathered friends yet again. Blush and Pride gave a mocking wave, together with an earful of laughter. Blush then fell off the wall between now and tomorrow, momentarily distracting Pride. I had just enough time to escape before they would notice I had wandered on. I went to take the shortcut through the park behind the tears. Desperately trying to avoid bumping into Rage, for every good idea I have, will always be apposed. I turn on my blistered feet to see Disbelief, pointing at the neon sign:
(NB. This piece is part of a literary installation which uses moving image and sound together with word. Footage to follow shortly)
Spirit de la Mare aka Li’l Literati. London 2008.
©Spirit de la Mare. London 2010.