In my Room..

Coming back to my love all I found is a rape scene which I’m sure I’m responsible for. Watching her from the bed I don’t even recognise her skin because the paleness reflects through my drugs as a memory of colors that are now stored deep inside brown boxes collected from a body-builders shop down the road a couple of weeks ago. Reebok boxes. Constant is the noise that the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion New Single She Said makes by staring at me from the front of my fridge – what holds it up is a mixture of different types of blue-tack kind of adhesives collected from other posters that died of internal combustion in ancient times which I’m glad not to recall anymore. And OK. Here you go. Reebok Boxes. Now I’ll stop it ‘cause it start to sound too pretty fuckin’ dull to me as well but I’m talking about something that I’ve been sharing my the last five years of my life with, which in perspective is one sixth of my life for Satan sake! Reebok Boxes. Something that should have died three days ago is screaming out of the new boiler which I only managed to abuse for the last three weeks. I wish I could explain it in better words but this five years in here has been a great crying laugh of people swinging on a swing and three nights on a row with a drug of a girl in a room and a cat from the far east asking me the best way to die. There was also a birthday party where the walls started to throw out adrenaline to human beings and God sent Cupid to strike every single moving thing in the room but I refused out of cynicism or because I knew the one I love by myself anyway but she was already far far far far far far far away.  7 far are more than enough to me. Then I remember the crazy fights with my neighbour that couldn’t cope with the fact that I’m a crazy noisy punk-rock guitar-DRUMS player. I’ll miss u/I’m NOT GONNA MISS U. What I’m gonna miss and I don’t even know why is the rain coming through my rough but yeah..I’m gonna miss that. And the cold. So cold that I had to wear fingerless glows to play guitar. I’m gonna miss that too. But above all I’m gonna miss u. My love. My room. Before me your walls give space to an amazing filmmaker. Before that someone even changed sex in your presence. And before that people used to make clothes for the Nothing Hill Carnival. So yeah. This is my little elegy to you. My room. And I’m sorry if I exploded myself on your walls. In your air. In your hears. Now it’s all to you. You Room.