The Ramadan Tourist

       

                      
Well "HELLO" to all.

All that know me alredy know that I an not a Muslim (I am a follower of God who, I believe, is above such politics) but, due to such an increase in Muslim friends and followers I have decided to observe the Holy month of Ramadan out of respect.

The effect on my physical self has been extreme.

I am still walking twenty plus miles a day (I find it easier to give my love to God as I explore the beauty of His creation) but I am now walking without any form of nutritional sustainance such as food or water, instead relying fully on God to not leave me to die in a ditch somewhere (which appears to be working so far). 

When I walk I try not to have an agenda, instead leaving each turn and each path entirely in the hands of my destiny. This seems to work incredibly well as each day is filled with new surprises, new views and new events in areas where people are not. This also allows "freedom of thought" which is something I have never experienced before as like all people I seem to spend my entire life worrying or afraid of the things I cannot change.

                    

Anyway, back to my body.

Three months ago I was tremendously unfit. Involved in the food industry I have been a victim of my own success which had led to a body mass issue that was bordering on the obese. An indoor lifestyle had me an anemic white with poor skin as I consumed any old crap to survive.

But now is different.

Although I am incredibly tired and have spent most of the night waking every hour to rehydrate I am physically much, much better than I have been in years. I have lost weight and am toning the rest (slowly, I said I walk, not run), I have a beautiful tan that seems to be slowly eating away such imperfections as the numerous liver spots that covered my arms. I breathe more easily and have been informed that my snoring has (despite my obvious tiredness) almost ceased. I am a lot more conscious of the things that I eat  and drink (although I admit I am trying to consume a lot of calories in a short space of time to compensate for the lack of time to eat), and, despite the tiredness of my limbs, feel in the best physical shape for years.

But my mental state is even better.

I think with clarity wasting no time on "over thinking" or debate. I can see the problems of this world and understand how to change them (please note earlier post on how to cure cancer) including a couple of ideas for unlimited energy that I need to run by someone who would understand them considerably better than me (I flunked science at school yet see answers as obvious as day, go figure). But more importantly than all of this I can see and understand the "Will of God." Seriously, I will try and explain religion, God and spiritualism.

If you observe the cattle you can understand the lack of free will as they slowly "munch"their way across a field without a care in the world. They do not do wrong as their is no benefit to be gained from leaving the path that sees them fed, watered, milked and taken away for promotion (or slaughter, it's not like they know). Oh, if only our lives could be so easy.

But this is the point, we are MORE than them. Thanks to the generosity of our lord (God, Allah, the everlasting love) we have been blessed (cursed?) with FREE WILL, and free will is the one thing that separates us from the animals. It is the one gift that came with your soul. The ability to make decisions for ourselves. Simple decisions that have two possible outcomes: The right way (the will of God) and the wrong way (not the will of God).

"Understand this most basic of obvious realities, and you will understand Religion, your Soul, and (most importantly) the will of God."

It is not that we CAN choose wrong over right, it is that despite this and the perceived gain or reward this will bring we still ALL choose to do the right thing, in His name, every time, all of the time. Only then can your soul begin to be considered pure enough to enter Heaven.

"How do I know right from wrong?" I hear you all beginning to argue. "What I believe to be right might not be the same for someone else."

Well, it's OK for God has you covered here. Start with "thou shall not kill" (which is a command, not some loose law that you can change to suit your needs) and start working down.

Will it help? Good

Will it hurt? Bad

Will they suffer? Bad

Will they be happy? Good

Will they understand the simplicity of this? Good

Etc

Etc

Etc

And this is where my mind (and soul) is at.

If you are sitting there reading this thinking "Holy Shit" then bow down in front of God in thanks, and when you get up please support my #ForNoGoodReason posts on Twitter and direct people to this post.

"As a single flake of snow can create an avalanche, a single grain of sand can start a sand slide. Both the avalanche and the sand slide can cover all traces of man."

This is the revolution. Not with guns but with love, for even if I die this day I know my place in Heaven is secured and I will miss all that are unable to join me.

Love to you all.

Barticus

The banking crisis 2014

Imagine if you will…..

So, you make a bit of a bad investment call. You invest in some bad debt in a country you have never heard of and don’t really travel to but hey, the interest rates were a bit spectacular and maybe we should really have checked if these fools had the possibility to pay this back or not but the deal seemed too good to miss. Still, accidents do happen and we lose a few million dollars, no biggie as we have billions to spare and we can soon make it back.

But the problem is the “little” people freak out (as if we would have invested “their” money on such a great project) and start turning up at our door demanding their money back, not in cashier cheques or electronic payments but in cash. I mean, cash, who carries that much cash anymore? So we tell the people “OK, be calm and we will work out some cash for you” and they start shouting “Oh no, my bank doesn’t have any cash” and more of the fools start to panic.

Well, this is obviously ridiculous so we turn to the Governors of the little people and say “do me a favour, we (the banking system) lend you money all the time. Please can you tell the little people that we have loads of money (with much of it lent out to people like you) so that they can stop panicking….” But instead of the treasury or someone who knows about money dealing with it YOU let some “press” fool deal with it and now the panic is worse.

But it is all ok. As stated above we have loads of money and we soon start to sort the problems out. We call in a few loans, find big bundles of the “green stuff” and appease the masses so they can live with the fear of someone stealing it from under their mattresses. Screw them, I mean they started this right?

But, we did lose a bit of money and we did lose a lot of control, and we don’t like anyone else thinking they are in control so we had better get a bit more control.

So the guy who has $50k in cash under his mattress wants to put it back in so he can get interest and know his money is safe? Is that the same guy who screamed his money was safer under his mattress than in OUR bank? Seriously? Well “screw him!!” Drop interest rates to the lowest ever seen and let’s see if the fool is actually making any money after his charges. Because interest rates are so low the rest of the “little people” will borrow left right and centre without even bothering to ask where all of this money is coming from. It’s electronic after all, it’s not like we even need any of the real stuff.

Note from author:

“With interest rates at the lowest seen, debt, both personal and industrial is on a scale never seen before. Almost nothing in your life is owned by you or individual companies with huge mortgages and loans being taken against everything we own. Although most of this debt is at a very low interest rate it is in a time that we have seen the birth of the “pay day lender” with interest rates up to 6000 percent. 6000 percent? This means that for every dollar/pound/euro you borrow you will end up having to repay 60 in just one years’ time. Borrow $1000 and you will have to find $60,000. Even I would invest for such returns.”

Now that we have everybody mortgaged to the hilt the next move is actually really simple. Raise interest rates. Not to anything stupid (we don’t want a revolt after all) but to say 4 percent over a 2 year period. Everybody will default and we will own everything. We won’t even need to sell the houses and companies we own, we will just leave the little people penniless, homeless and jobless and it will not matter to us, they will have learned their lesson and we will have ALL THE MONEY!!

Happy days….

Another crazy day in paradise

In a reflecting mood as yet another week passes into memories

Issues with the liars and bullies that I work for left me seeking guidance over the last few days.

They have attacked the man that writes on the basis of the words of "Barticus."

Not using the things that I have written. Not sharing the words of love, equality and understanding that are my core values. Instead "Trolling" my Twitter feed to attempt to find fault and discredit me using a Twitter account that does not even follow me.

This they have attempted to do by taking posts and pictures out of context in a disgusting case of "Cyber Bullying" to create a vision of racism that suits their desires, to dismiss me from the work place.

"Why dismiss me from the workplace" I hear you cry. After all, what could I have done to bring about such a devious act? Surely I must be bad at my work?

The opposite of this is true. I am very good at my work. I achieve at levels many dream of, well above my remit, so why why risk losing someone such as this?

Maybe they fear that I make them look bad, after all they are underachieving whilst I over achieve.
Maybe they find me "hard to control" as I challenge those that do not share my vision.
Maybe they are scared of my intellect and education that is at a higher level than theirs.
Or maybe it is that I made a passing comment that my "line leader" is obviously sucking off her "line leader"? Only time will tell.

But this they are not allowed to do (er, using this method to discriminate as I really don't care about the "sucking off" thing).

Not only does "Trolling" go against Twitter rules, but it is an illegal bullying process that is covered by International law, especially with reference to "Human Rights." The process of using an account that does not follow a person (therefore there are no claims that my posts appeared on their time line) just to create a case is illegal as this is obtaining information by deception, an illegal spying process that is basically entrapment, even legal teams and police are forbidden to do that.

But, why were they looking at my posts in the first place? What was their rights?

For all of you that have read my ramblings over the last 12 years you know Barticus, and not "the man that types" on his behalf. Check my postings, research what you will and realise that there is no link between the two. So how have THEY proved this link? THEY have not as they have stolen my words (Intellectual Property theft).

So what gives them the right to censor the words of Barticus? Well, if any of my Twitter posts have offended anyone then they would report me and my account would be suspended or even banned with such posts being censored or removed, such are the rules of Twitter, but this has not happened. And a post I made asking if anyone was offended by any of my words returned zero (none, nothing, nada) results therefore proving I have complied with Twitter rules governing my postings and have indeed offended no one.

So does my employment give my employers 24/7 access to my words when they only pay me for 39 hours a week, especially when they cannot prove a link between Barticus and the man that types? Or is this an obvious attack on my freedom of speech in a nation that prides itself on free speech?

It is probably a good time to point out that no democracy carries censorship with all citizens being allowed this one freedom, the freedom of speech, and to attempt to curtail this for your own purposes is, in effect, an enslavement of this right (something that is backed once again by those splendid fellows at the Court for Human Rights).

So it is obvious that their behaviour, this method of censorship and control is wrong.

So what do they do next? Do they dismiss this obvious failings, say sorry for the confusion and send me back to work?

To be honest this is what I expected, but I was not paying attention to their flagrant disregard for my most basic of Human Rights, and what was to follow was one of the most evil of processes I have ever encountered.

Instead of the obvious route (and possibly to protect the suckee or the sucker, I have no idea) they began a process of bullying that has lasted for over 4 months. This has taken in 2 separate "unbiased" investigations, one of which was more one sided than a Zimbabwe election and the other had no questions noted thus giving less actual "usable" proof than a postage stamp. Add to this a "Doctor" (this really is in the loosest of terms) that shared ALL information with my employers (Hippocratic oath? Doctor? Malpractice?), firstly saying I was fit for work (when it suited my employers) and later, despite not seeing me or contacting my Doctor, claiming me unfit for work. I have no idea what this practice is but am painfully aware it had nothing to do with my health.

But each and every step has been engineered so as to maximise the stress (and therefore the bullying) that I have had to endure. (Duty of care, etc, etc) in what appears to be a hope that I may, being so depressed from these actions, jump in front of a train (care for life).

The last action of the investigation process was to make me a repulsive offer (especially when you consider what has been done and the attempt on my life) with it being pointed out that if I did not accept I risked being dismissed without notice pay, although I am still unclear as to why.

Shortly, these swine will use their biased findings based on illegal process to end my employment. So, should I be upset?

Not really. I look at what they have tried to do:

Breach of contract
Illegally access my Intellectual Property
Defamation of character
Attempting to subjugate my free speech
Attempting to make me commit suicide
Doctoral malpractice
Corruption
Spoliation
The breaking of every employment law
Bullying
Harassment
Fraud
And most importantly, the assumption that I am their slave, 24/7

So basically I will hand the entire file to the Crown Prosecution Service, sit back, and enjoy the ride.....

Barticus

Lost and found

I feel I should explain what is going on in my life so as to try to make sense of some of the disjointed ramblings that are roaming through my head.

With my life in turmoil (not to mention an entire world unhappy with war and greed and suffering) I turned to a God that I did not really believe in and begged for help. Help not just with my life but the chaos that humanity has chosen to become.

“What do you want?” appeared to be the reply. “Well I want to be rich and successful and not worry anymore” I answered hoping for a winning lottery ticket or other escape from my pain, but instead God simply said “Why?”

I argued my case thoughtfully and thoroughly as to why the perception of riches would make me happy, an argument that lasted many weeks as I contemplated such reward.

God listened. Supported me through my tears as I told my story, and the story of my fears. And when I finished my weeks of going on about all that I thought was me, God said “Why?” and I realise all I want, all anyone wants is to be free.

But freedom has no price tag. Freedom is a way of life. Freedom knows no pain and suffering unless you chose to create that yourself.

I thought life was about employment and owning pretty things. But the prettiest thing is Freedom. A freedom found with Him.

I see things very differently from how I did before, not only am I free to live, but I’m not hurting anymore. I know that I am blessed and lucky to know Him. I now know of my journey and know it’s nearly time for us begin.

Scared? Yes, I’m petrified. My decisions are not all my own. But I trust my Glorious Master that I will never walk alone.

So if you see me/us your street please don’t look away. Instead join in with  us for everyday is judgement day….

Love you all so much right now,

Barticus

Friendship?

So I find myself wondering about the meaning of “Friendship” in this modern, twisted world.

I have always tried to be an attentive friend. One of those that always answers the phone or replies to a text at the earliest opportunity. One of those friends who is “always there when you need them” for a coffee, chat, shoulder to cry on, etc. As a friend I have always tried to be supportive of my friends, offering advice when I can see it is needed or a joke when moods need to be lifted, that kind of thing. As a friend I have always cherished and had emotional connection to all of my friends that I have often conceded as love. All these traits have been because it was what I was brought up to believe friendship was, but apparently I was wrong.

Recent events have forced me to re-evaluate what friendship is. I am now being forced to question if friendship is something else, something not so pure as someone I have always considered a friend pointed out the following: Friends are two people that “use” each other for each person’s personal needs without a care as to the feelings or needs of the other person.

To be honest I found myself upset with this, so therefore open it up for discussion.

Answers on a post card to the usual address…

Barticus

Its all about you baby...

It’s all the fault of Doctor Gonzo, my attorney. This great beast is supposed to be on my side against the masters of puppetry as I walk my path. But failure to attend our breakfast meeting left me consuming the “2 for the price of 1” special that I had pre ordered for the event, and that is where it all got strange…

Lost on some desert island I was forced to fight my way back to normality through deserted streets never seen before. I swear I even heard the banjo playing once or twice, flashbacks of way too much TV had me ready to run at the first sign of “you got a purdy mouth” as he starts to slowly remove his sweat stained apron, again. Rolling down hills to a very slow version of Kiesza’s hideaway with a better dance routine left me wondering if I had indeed left my sanity somewhere else, and if this was a park bench or a bus shelter I was wondering if it even missed me at all. Was it happy? Was it going to be OK or was it to be the victim of some passing “loved up” rabid rabbit, never to be seen again.

If your life is being controlled by the needs of your dog it may be time for a reassessment.

 My right foot may have totally disintegrated. It gave out about 25 miles back and I have a pack of coyotes following me that lick their lips each time I stumble as they start to draw out the knives and forks as they open a nice Shiraz. Those fools think I am mad but we all know Chianti would go better. Only people being walked by their dogs are my companions as this fear and loathing of the human race reaches a crescendo with not one of them willing to open the Church door for the strange but content harpy that only had one leg, yes it’s a beast but you should still have respect you fuckers.

Anyway, I got a call from central and it turns out my press pass still exists, and there is a journalist job on in Vegas to celebrate all that is the human race. With a week there and a week to go see if Hunters DNA is still on his wall I will need my attorney by my side. Bed, all you can eat breakfast and a red shark to swim the way from Vegas to Boulder and back. If the funding comes in we will need to move the first chance we get before the other paper jockeys get the drop on us again….

Cancer? Fuck that!!

Whilst “cloud surfing” yesterday (my Doctor tells me I need more exercise so I’m taking it) we stumbled on the subject of cancer…

I, and ALL of my closest of friends recently lost fathers (uncanny, but all in the last year) to this vicious bitch of a disease. I remember the daily phone calls from my mother reporting on his progression. The “up” days when treatment seemed to be working, the “down” days when it clearly wasn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to see him towards the end. This great man, built like an ox with a constitution to match slowly being destroyed from within by this terrible disease…

It started (like with most smokers) in one of his lungs. The Doctors said that the tumour was about the size of a ten pence piece when they found it growing on his lung. Prescribed inhaler, drugs, chemotherapy, radiotherapy, some days he was better, a bit more like his old self, full of confidence that he could beat this…

Other days, other days were not so good. Coupled with the fact that he knew he was dying were the side effects that treatment was causing (excuse me, back in a bit, balling my eyes out)…

Sorry about that, I feel I should explain. My father was my “step-father” and not my biological one. He had not “blood rite” of fatherhood over me and had to earn it. Yeah, he earned it. I have never and never will love and respect any man more than (for fuck sake, brb) him. Over six feet tall with arms like tree trunks and hands like hammers, the biggest man I have ever met, yet he was always kind and caring with never a bad word for anybody and he could have the patience of a saint when needed. He taught me everything from fishing and hunting to driving and fixing my car. If only I had listened more to his advice on women…

Anyway, as his condition worsened and his body became weaker the cancer spread. If I’m honest I’m not even sure all the places he had it in the end, but I know he had a huge tumour on his brain that caused the annihilation of one of his eyes (such was the strength of the man that his eye gave out before his brain, I can’t even begin to imagine the pain). He eventually died overnight in my mother’s arms, the pressure of the tumours causing such a strain on his lungs that in turn put strain on his heart that in turn brought about a cessation of life. I miss him so much…

The problem with being a “step-son” is that people assume that you don’t love your “step-dad.” My father had two natural sons and one natural daughter, all of which I don’t see as often as I would like. One lives thousands of miles away and I had not seen before the funeral in years, back when I was still a boy (although it was great to meet for the first time as grown-ups. I have no idea how either of us would have survived the funeral without the other being there). One has disappeared of the face of the earth but still managed to see Dad just before he died (although didn’t make it for the funeral as he had “gone missing” again), and the other is a spoilt brat (not her fault, what can I say, Dad always wanted a girl). But I did love Dad, these siblings had no choice about their father as he just was, and was always there from birth. But I did have a choice and I chose him as my father, no one sees that…

As I said I miss him, every day, so you can’t help but look back and think what could have been done differently. How could Doctors have “preserved” life, as is their remit?

I’m not a Doctor of medicine (yet, who knows the future) but it seems very, very obvious to me that when cancer was first found they should have gone about things differently…

Cancer cells are already in our body, hiding like some monstrous beast in the depths of our daily wellbeing waiting for their time to shine. Waiting for us to mess up enough so that they can begin the process they have been waiting for. A process that has one singular function, to KILL US!! So why, when Cancer finally (hey, I have smoked since I was 12, I know this bitch has me in her sights) rears her hideous head do we then prod it, take samples, throw chemicals and radio waves and the like at it? It might go down, for a bit. It might have to adapt. It might even have to start somewhere else. But whatever it does, it will still do it’s best to do the one thing it was born to do, KILL YOU!!

I learned a lot from my Dad. Sayings such as “if it aint broke don’t fix it” and “if you can’t win, don’t play” spring to mind…

Cancer. Don’t fuck with it. Don’t piss it off. Don’t give it an excuse to fight. Don’t play its fucking game. Operate. Cut it out. Change your lifestyle so it doesn’t come back…

After all, I would rather lose one of my lungs than die. I would rather lose my legs than die. I would rather lose my sight and long term memory than die. Nothing I have or am is worth anything if I am dead. Cut the cancer out before it grows and spreads and does everything it was bread to do that means IT WILL KILL ME!!!

Love

Barticus

P.S. As word of this is spreading I realise I should dedicate this to those that made this possible. To my Step Father, the Greatest man I have ever known. And to my father God, without whom this would have all not been possible....

Enslaved

Day 120 in the “Big Brother” house. I shit you not, this has hit the 120 day point already. How long is too long for an illegal process?

I suppose I shouldn't moan too much, poor fuckers are paying me to sit and write instead of doing any “real” work in a twist on corporate sponsorship, shame that I am trapped by their “details” from doing anything more constructive and if I'm going to be really honest a break from this chaos might be nice, 4 months of constant bullshit really is enough to break anyone.

They tell me that the current investigation (one of too many as they try to justify process whilst digging themselves deeper and deeper in to a hole of the mistakes they have made) has been concluded, but because this is the one that proves their failings and forces an end to proceedings they seem in no real hurry to let me know the outcome, like playing Russian roulette with the Joker or something.

Hey you freaks! At some point you really need to start doing the things ACAS, employment law and constitution say you must be doing, do you not even care that this is going to end up in court and the media? Lol, your issue is not being judged by me, your issue is how you are going to be judged by everyone else.

Sorry, excuse the ranting. Four months of this has had an odd effect on my insanity to a state where I wonder how to qualify “justifiable homicide” and know there must be a way.

Anyway, off to attempt to waste another 10 hours waiting on emails and phone calls that will more than likely not come as, after all, they don’t give a damn about me…

Ignorance

I heard them say that ignorance is bliss

So as to negate the things that you might miss

So that you would choose not to question

The hidden truth of their intention

Fed on the lies of their corporate media

You see your TV set as your new leader

Where you watch brother set against his brother

To create nothing but the profits for another

A war for oil while there is starvation

Forced inequality in every nation

We sold out morals and beliefs

So that prime time entertainment might bring relief

With daily celebrity “whose fucking who”

Saving you from having to see news that’s new

Wake up! Wake up and smell the rose

Fed on the lies the master knows

Take off your “Rose Tinted” glasses

And expose the suffering of the masses

In a time when ALL are suffering

Unite to bring change to the Global nation

And know that if we are now one more than me

Then we are one person closer to being free

Lesbian love affair

So…. 

I have been forced to realise the only true constant in this world of mediocrity…. 

That MY LIFE… 

Has moments that can only be played out to the mesmerising siren call that is the sound of The Doors as accompaniment….

If you know what I mean… 

Well… 

Then you are already halfway there… 

So stand up and wave your arms…. 

Imagine you are lost on a distant island where everybody is free… 

Free to be whoever you choose to be…. 

Freedom in your humanity….

She said that “She said that she loved me….”

She said this as if I knew….

She said that “She said that she loved me….”

What did she want me to do?

I thought our love was true. I thought it was just “me and you”

Oh no……

What did she want me to do?????

Rousing in a penal cell for delinquencies I could not elicit I pondered …. 

What would be the penalty for this twisted actuality in which I had elected to exist… 

Had I irreversibly succumbed to all the things I declared I would never be…. 

Had I finally forgotten to simply be me……

Oh No…..

Coz, She said that “She said that she loved me….”

She said this as if I knew….

She said that “She said that she loved me….”

What did she want me to do?

I thought that she was mine. I thought that I was hers. “She said that she loved me….” Shows she never cared, for me…..

Oh no….

What am I gonna do.....

Freak!

Correspondence from some deranged freak...

"Jesus man, what did you do to this weed?

I’m on the run through Dallas, I think, fucking Fed’s everywhere, for Christ’s sake man you gotta help…

I took Mona Lisa to that party, remember her? well them, the party as well man. Damn, let me get the facts so you know the truth, so you know what to tell them if this is it, if the Fed’s or whoremongers finally get me. Mona Lisa, I showed you her sister, sexy

looking but with a darker side. And the party, Janice’s birthday, remember her? Janice? Good looking girl with a sweet smile, Jesus man, you taught her for three years, you gotta remember…

Anyways, party was going cold and the men escaped or the mandatory cigarette and male bonding time and I was thinking “Hey guys, you all seem pretty cool, I wanna introduce you to my darling Lisa…” smiles on faces etcetera making me believe this was a good call, and damn she was sexy. Packed like a tightly woven house brick, really, you could have robbed post offices with her like Bonnie and Clyde on a whole new level. But Jesus man, they didn’t take much I swear. Dammit, I took over half and they only had little tokes with the obligatory “Man, this is sweet stuff” and “This doesn’t seem as strong as my normal brand” and shit like this, I thought it was all cool, but it wasn’t. Fuck, it was the beginning of the end for these motherfuckers…

It was moments later when re-joining the party that I started to realise the mistake of my actions. These “cool guys” were all now in a bad way, talking weird shit with their tongues hanging out and eyes almost closed while girlfriends and partners looked at me with accusing eyes knowing that I was the one who fucked them up. Standing there like some fucked up Disney show. “Mummy, why are the gargoyles drooling like that?” If they break out in a song, I swear I’ll be finished. “One toke over the line,” fuck man, I was singing this at a funeral with Sonny only last week as we paid tribute to our late father. Standing there in simple tribute…. (As one we stood. A disjointed gathering of Jesus freaks and assembled weirdo’s that I still like to call family, in the backwater nothingness that I still call home, to witness the passing of one of gods own, my dad, the greatest man I have ever known…. Wherever he is I can wish nothing more than a “Peaceful Journey..” I love you pops, you are all the better things of me….) but these motherfuckers weren’t one toke over, these guys were done, fucked up, their lives invaded and destroyed by things they don’t have the experience or ability to understand and by a man they had never met before, he must surely be the devil in disguise, burn him, burn him, crap man, I’m doomed…

Who the fuck were these guys anyway? I hadn’t met them before, friends and relatives of Janice I think, man, I swear, I don’t even know anymore. Two senior bankers, an Architect, some kind of web design manager, and a post-grad, and I had destroyed them. I prepared for the onrush of accusations, arrival of various government types and trip to Guantanamo Bay where I would undoubtedly face daily beatings and anal rape sessions for what I had done. But no, fuck it, I wasn’t gonna make it easy for these swine. If I stayed it would be all too easy, now was the time to flee, make them work for it, make them chase me…

Quickly finishing my drink I searched out Janice, remember Janice? Fuck man, keep up, and tried to make myself seen enough to save from having to try to join the conversation, the buzzing overtone of which was “girlie” stuff and I was in no mind to try to defend the actions of all men in this group of vicious looking harpies, another day maybe, but right now I was in enough trouble already. My posturing wasn’t working, they didn’t see me. Jesus man, how could they not see me? I accepted my robust size at an early age and dealt with the fact that I could never hide in such situations, maybe they were ignoring me, already having passed sentence on me for what I had done to their menfolk. Fear rising I had to find a plan B. 

After taking an absolute age working out which appendage would be appropriate to use in this oddest of social situations I poked Janice with my finger and blurbed something about “Sorry babe, I gotta go, trains are gonna stop soon…” I have no idea if this was the truth, but as a lie it seemed to work. I got hugs all-round and passing pleasantries while seeing the hate in many eyes that no smile could pretend to hide. Vicious harpies, would they get me when my back was turned? 

Going back to the male group I could see that things were worse. My Disney scene now looked like a bad Madame Tussauds exhibit where someone had turned the heating up way too far. Jesus man, what had I done? After a few quick slaps on back and calls of “Facebook me” I managed to beat my retreat, fleeing into the night…

And here I am, fleeing through Dallas or somewhere, damn, really where am I? Too many people everywhere, I am sure it’s the Fed’s or some whoremonger sent by my ex-wife that’s been waiting patiently for me to fuck up…

There’s footsteps behind me, they are gonna jump me, I know it, I feel it, the feel of fetid breath on my neck, damn. Finally gathering the courage to look I see no one, just some falling leaves. Fuckers, they changed it, they changed the matrix. Well two can play that game, I’m gonna hide in the trees and go all ninja on their asses. “Morpheos, this is Neo, I need a ninjitsu download….” Hmm, that didn’t seem to work. Gonna need to go back to plan A…

There’s a meat waggon rushing in the other direction, blue lights screaming into the night, damn, I hope that’s not for anything I’ve done. Fuckers, lying to me, making me think they were cool guys instead of the normal straights just looking for a touch of rebellion that they turned out to be. Damn freaks, serve them right, take your medicine. Walking with a swagger, forcing myself not to run, that would only make it too easy for them, give them the excuse they need, fuckers…

I have somehow negotiated the weird lighting arrangement that appears to have been imported from Tokyo or somewhere (whilst have some epiphany about anarchy that I will try to remember if I survive this) to try to catch me out, seriously, I’m sure that they are supposed to be there to help me cross the road, or re-enact close encounters of the third kind, don’t these freaks ever that consider someone with my current constitution could have to face this freak show? but this has only led me to some kind of tunnel. Fuckers, they led me here. They knew what I would do, they already knew the route that I would take, have they been leading me all along like a dog for its final injection? damn their preparations. They’re closing in now, time is short, think I’m gonna have to make a run for it…

If this is it, let them know the truth, let them know everything…"

One Direction

Trying to write with some “falsified” Peruvian bullshit screaming through the air. I need to eat then get the “hell outta Dodge” just for a bit…

It’s all “Simon and Garfunkel” meets “Last of the Mohicans” as a putrid backing mix, with 4 fat and hairy guys miming along like a less sexy One Direction, what craziness is this?

“CD’s just ten pounds” screams ones fetid breath in an accent that questions his ability to even be in this country, let alone working, on a Sunday. A Fucking Sunday! Right under my bedroom window like some twisted serenade, stealing my ability and my freedom just to think…..

Peace out,

Barticus

Value added tax.....

“Holy Christ,” I mused, “Is that what we have become…” 

The early morning finds me aimlessly trying to walk off the effects of the night before when my mind is forced to remember two of the breakthrough discoveries of the last twenty four hours. 

Firstly, the madness is back, hiding in the corner and affecting my judgement. I know this is the result of the previous week’s anniversary and know that now I have acknowledged that lurking beast for what she is, I can soon be rid of her devious charms. The second discovery, well, when I say discovery it is something that I have known for a while, but never really considered the consequences, was brought about during a conversation with “Professor Gonzo” as we saw a sign reading “Includes a Free Drink” while passing one of the many bars and restaurants that litter this island. 

“It’s all about added value these days,” I declared, “You can only sell something if people believe they are getting something for nothing.” The Professor nodded, but I could see his thoughts were considerably more focused on the promise of “Charred Beast Flesh” that lay at the end of our journey to be drawn into a debate on modern marketing methods.

But as I walk to the sound of seagulls whilst inhaling the scent of a saline and seaweed encrusted breeze (I miss the sea, these sensory visions must be in my head) I realise how bad this marketing ploy has become, and how I am happily selling my dreams on the promise of “Buy one, you get one free… I said you buy one, you get one free…” 

I see multiple houses and apartments built on land that was never big enough for a single house years ago are “snapped up” by young families thanks to the “Government Subsidised” twenty percent deposit being offered by the builder to help ensure the dream of buying your own home, replacing the dream of owning a nice house with a decent sized garden where the kids can play… 

I notice how the car, bought with the promise of better miles per gallon and a “cut price” road tax to is set to keep me happy about the money I have saved whilst forgetting the big V8 muscle car that I have always wanted but can never again afford to run... 

I see a woman; her door is open, keys still in the lock as she sits at the bottom of her stairs. There is no sign of any shopping. No food. No happiness. An understanding that not only is she not living her dreams, but at her age she will “never get to dream again” is written on her face… 

I note how the holiday with the “free child places” that would bring such happiness to my family as we set off for a week’s vacation in Tenerife or Rhodes, forgetting my dream to live as hippies for a month on the Indian coast, or see family and friends in Australia that I have not seen since they were kids… 

There are the “Buy one, get one free” associated with windows, doors, curtains, carpets, tools and so much more to help me not only invest in the improvement of my domicile, but also to add value to the residence I will never be able to afford to exchange for the quiet house in the country with the apple trees and the white picket fence that I have always dreamed of owning… 

And coming back to the simple bar on the street with its offer of a “Free drink” with my meal that leaves me happy that I am able to drink a glass of wine with my “medium rare” eight ounce steak, when all the time forgetting that what I really wanted to have lobster and champagne that will be forever outside of my budget… I dream. 

This is a side effect of the condition I may have mentioned earlier that fools me into doing this quite a lot. But dreams are what drive us as a species to always seek what is better, faster, higher, safer, etc, etc. Without dreams there would be no art, no man in space, no medicines and no individuality. So as I am being slowly herded into the line that leads directly to the grinder I ask myself how many of my real dreams you have sacrificed in the name of this “Added Value” (Tax)…