The Perspective

They swarmed accross the shop floor in a silent dignity at the quietest hour of my night. I stopped my work in awe, a New sight!
My raison d'etre. The reason I carry on, despite the irratating boredom that continues to pursue me wherever I go.

She had a face peice, a metal structure that obscures her features in a bizzare fashion.I admit I was slightly scared, she reminded me of Hannibal Lector. Am I allowed to talk to her? I stood as far away as I could, observing her

"Do you have anymore of these?" She asks in a deep accent about some Scrunchies I had laid out.
"Only in the polka dots" I reply quickly.
"I only like dark colours" She dismisses in a derisive manner.

Already, I like her.

She builds a pile on my desk, I hear her maids laughing they don't realise I understand a little Arabic (and read it fluently) they mention the words 'marked body' and 'non-believer' They find me Amusing. my tatoo's my make-up, my build the fact I have no faith in any God. I suddenly get a fresh perspective of what I appear to be like to other people. I am pleased with the outcome.

She smiles vaguely at her own private joke then turns and orders me to try on a headpeice, I oblige willingly,explaining my actions carefully. She looks to her servants and comments in her own language; she likes my hair, a flash of envy, then abruptly walks away from me whilst i'm mid sentance. Drifting around at her own leisure.

You can see in their eyes She is their world.
They gravitate her at a safe distance, watching her every move,ready to pounce into action should she need it. And I find myself copying their actions.

'Try this' She thrusts a red bejewelled headband into my hands.
'Okay' I place it in my hair carefully and then twist my body to accomodate her gaze.

She smiles at me and an understanding passes between us.

I envy her wealth and she in turn envies my freedom.

She picks up 6 of the headbands I am wearing and thrusts them all onto my desk.
'I'll take them all' She decides out aloud, beckoning her Handbag Servant. At £45 a piece they aint cheap but i'm not complaining I've hit my target in one exhilirating exchange.

She pays, orders her Handbag Servant to stay behind and collect the goods and exits the same way she entered.

I'm emotionally exhausted.

x

Modern Day Hero's

In this shit day and age I have only three living people I admire and aspire to be like...

John Robb- for Being so recognisably JB and for being a Father figure. He scares the Hell out of me into getting my ass into gear.




Zombina- for living the Dream, being a girl in the music industry, being secure in herself & not being bitchy. (It can be done!)



The Mystery Journalist- He pops up in random places, introduces us to people, looks out for us and writes nice articles.Our Gaurdian Angel. Yet we don't know his name nor his face?

x

Arab Season

4 Resin headbands,2 Bandeaus, 3 claw clips, 4 hair slides
=£780

Fuck off!
I wanted to reach up from behind the counter and slap her accross the face, scream insults, shake an expression into her otherwise bored face.

You have a butch female security guard, stupid teenage friends, crisp Red 50's casually kept in a roll.

What more do you want?

How do you justify spending nearly a grand on a few hair accessories?
Do you know how the other half live?
Do you have any concept of the value of money, and what it can buy?

"In your next life Taz" reassures A

No thanks. I think I'll pass on Riches if it means constantly walking around with a face like THAT.

x

Self-inflicted Exile

(Impending pictures)

Wretched
1. In a deplorable state of distress or misfortune; miserable: "the wretched prisoners huddling in the stinking cages" (George Orwell).
2. Characterized by or attended with misery or woe: a wretched life.
3. Of a poor or mean character; dismal: a wretched building.
4. Contemptible; despicable: wretched treatment of the patients.
5. Of very inferior quality: wretched

There's not enough hours in the day to do the things I want to do before I leave, every minute is scheduled with people and places I have to see before I go.

I can't explain why I feel so wretched at the moment, I found out the Hacienda is opening again at the end of the month. This is a Momentous occasion for the Manchester music scene and I'm not going to be there to witness it, I feel like already I am out of the loop. This city doesn't wait for anyone.

Being a street urchin, this city has bought me up and taught me valuable lessons. These streets were my playground for so long, I know them like the fine lines on my palm. Being Mancunian isn't just a label or a crappy accent, its a swagger in a young mans walk, it's the belief you can do anything you want, it's where even the lower dregs of society can have a voice, its the confidence in knowing you belong to an impressive history.

I can't find the words as to what I am feeling right now, I want to undo everything. Undo! Undo goddammit! I wish there was a ctrl Z button for life choices.

x

Now she's in Purple Now she's a Turtle.

Kevin from the tatoo parlour at work made this card for me and I nearly cried, he thinks my leaving party isn't well advertised. I just want to tell the people closest to me and if they care enough to remember and turn up.Great.If not, they obviously didn't care enough. And typical of Kevin he manages to insult me simultaneously. Emo is his nickname for me because he knows I'm alternative but can't quite manage to place what subculture, I've explained DandyPunk but he can't seem to grasp the idea. Besides that would kill the fun of actually being able to piss me off.

Second I got a late Christmas card from D at work, I didn't read it until she'd gone home. It read:

"Merry Christmas and Hanukah too! (she's Jewish)

Thank you for always being so happy and sweet and being able to make everyone smile. Stay as beautiful and kind as you are now always. Good Luck with everything"

and again I nearly cried, I always imagine no-one notices or appreciates the attention I pay to other people. I try to talk to everyone at work regardless of who they are and manage to find a common ground through making clumsy jokes.

I get a shock when people say they've seen me around or spotted me somewhere because in my head I'm Inconspicuous/ always the Observer not the observed.

B said she was going to miss me because "Your a character" I was touched, we have special people at work that everyone notices because they are 'characters' this could be good or bad. I like the idea of bad, that title lingers on for much longer.

My last dress as a uniform is Purple.

x

NY

Highs

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Lows

The DJ-for playing my song, intelligent drunken conversation, our mock fight "Right step outside!" and the ruffling of hair (flirting).

Him- a spoken goodbye, a parting gift, a pat on the cheek. Mmmmm broad back, warm scent and stubble.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Jealousy its a Garish outfit...but hey!

Don't worry. You wear it quite well.

Your easily replaceable. It amuses me when you joke ever so lightly about it. Especially when I see whats happening behind those sad eyes.

x