‘Of
Lilies and Remains’ – Bauhaus
Dear
diary, I’m fucking well nazzed. I’m so
shitted off at the moment. I’ve got
fucking blisters everywhere! Wouldya
dare finally arrive home from Tech
at 7pm?
I
WOULDN’T FUCKING DARE!
Today is fucking crap. I went to the
dentist, got well-bored at Tech, and
walked all the way home from Wisbech (3
miles), just so I could get a tape of some music we wanted to use at Trianglia. And now I’m nackered ‘n’ covered in blisters,
there’s no way I can walk back. I need a
bike, I think.
Betty’s ill ‘n’ Freddie’s got the
baby…
HOW FUCKING SHIT!
I WISH I’D STAYED IN
SHITTY
WISBECH!
After
I’d been to the dentist’s this morning, I went into ANDREWS’ coffee bar. As I
sat, sipping a grapefruit juice and reading Famous Monsters of Filmland, a woman of about 30 years of
age came in and sat drinking a coffee.
She was extremely attractive and mature looking and… well… she turned me
on. And occasionally our eyes would
meet. So, later, I asked two old ladies
the time. They didn’t know, and,
unexpectedly, this woman jumped in and told me.
Unprompted. I fancied her like
hell. Purely lustful.
Wonder
if Naomi’s written to me?
Yes. She has.
It’s addressed to ‘Ritcherd Winterfood’
and it was sent yesterday…
Gosh. It’s dead good!
Later:
‘Sweet
Thing/Candidate (live)’ – David Bowie
Naomi’s
letter is dead jolly and nice and full of she likes me a lot, but in a
different way to Alex. She thinks of me when she’s lonely and other
such stuff.
She
wrote it at 25 to 10pm, just after I ‘phoned on Wednesday 17th.
She was ‘utterly fucked off’ when she wrote it.
‘Dearest Jez,
You’ve gotta
help me … I’m going mad! I feel as if
I’m the moon going round and round and round…
Everyone’s
shouting at me… I’m going out of my
skull! Help!
Please excuse
the above trash – it’s how I feel at the moment! I’ve just had to do some washing and I got
soaked by a hole in our shower hose and now I’ve gots tons of crappy
nursing notes to do, and I’ve got no goddamn time left… I’m tired … tired of living in a bloody
dream! I’m afraid I’ve gotta go now, to
finish the stupid notes (I don’t even want to do nursing!!) but I’ll be back
later…’
She
signs off with ‘tons of love’ (and four kisses), returning at ¼ to midnight on
the same night. She’s finished the
‘silly notes’ and she’s sitting in bed with a carton of fresh orange juice by
her side and a fag. She once gave up for
2 months, the stress of college and the ‘happenings’ with her love life meant
she started again.
She
apologises for the earlier rant, but she’s having problems at college,
particularly with ‘a bitchy tutor’ who keeps slagging her off.
‘The work is
piling up, and I can’t cope. Also, the
home situation is BAD, to date.
Alan, Mum’s ugly bit, is sticking his oar in and things are basically
hopeless. I feel a total black
sheep. An outcast…
Mind you, from
the sounds I can hear next door (e.g. “Ahhh!
Oooh!” etc, etc…), his mind seems to be taken with OTHER things
at present. Oh! There goes the bed again! Honestly!
At THEIR age! It’s disgusting!!!!
Thanx for the
gorgeously good letter. As I said on the
‘phone, sorry about Saturday. I was ½
cut, although I badly wanted to talk to you alone, etc. The skull is dead cute. He is here beside my bed. I haven’t taken the Gene Loves Jezebel badge
off since I so rudely stole it from you!
I hope you don’t mind!’
She’s still writing at 12.05am.
‘God, I feel
lonely.
I suppose I had
better explain things now. I’ve been
thinking a lot about everything, and yes – I DO love you, but not in the way
that you seem to think. Believe it or
not, I don’t really have many friends … not TRUE, CLOSE friends. To me, you are an extremely close
friend. I love you like a special
friend. I need you, and I care
– very much. I know I am not In Love
with you, but I don’t think that matters.
I would hate to lose you, too, and I think about you most of the
time. My feelings for you are strong –
very strong, but in a different way to Alex.
I know that if Alex
had never been heard of, and if you lived in the city, I would love to be with
you. To make more of this would be
divine. I know you want this, too, and
probably more than I do but, to date, it can’t be. But I’m happy. In myself.
But you’re not, are you? I know
that you’re in love with me and it worries me.
It actually hurts me to see you breaking because of me. Don’t get too hooked, I don’t want your heart
to break – not over silly me. Remember
what I have just said, and remember I’ll always be here for you (as in, if ever
you needed help or whatever). You are
extremely special to me, and I hope you are happy to understand what I mean…’
It’s
12.15am when she signs off, offering me ‘love, kisses, sexy bits, nail
clippings and bits of belly button fluff’, but then she adds a PS:
‘Just wanted to
say, Thanx for being here at this moment – I really need you… Thanx for being you… There are too few people like you
around… You’re very special… Okay?’
She
signs of with 7 ‘regular’ kisses, plus one huge one.
The
letter picks up again at 10 to 12pm on Thursday 18th June, addressed to her ‘wonderful psychiatrist,
Jezebel!’
She
feels like she’s going under again, going mad.
She’s back on the moon again and she can’t cope. Thursday turns out to have been a waste of
time and it left her wishing she’d never got out of bed. She spent most of the day trying to get her
college work finished and handed in for the deadline, but her tutor told her
parents (at an open evening/exhibition that night) that although her work is of
a high standard, it’s too late for Naomi to succeed due to her ‘punctuality,
attendance and attitude’…
‘It was
awful… She made me feel so small and
manipulated. I left the hall in a stream
of tears. In fact, I just wanted to die!’
She
also gets angry about the tutor who slags her off in class. Apparently, she deliberately marks Naomi’s
work low, calls her ‘lazy’ and ‘a joke’ and talks nastily about her to other
members of the group.
‘One good thing
came out of this evening. Some actress
was there, and I asked if I could have a talk about television work with
her. She’s meeting me in the Theatre Royal bar tomorrow at 3pm! I couldn’t
believe it! She’s not exactly Marilyn
Monroe, but she has starred in Crossroads! She works for Anglia Television. There I’ll be, sitting in the theatre bar,
with a star! Oh, the glory! I’ll tell all, later on…
At the end of
your 2nd letter, the one with the packet of custard in it (!), you
had a PS. Can you tell me what it
says? I can only read:
“My (word?) is free if you fancy a drink…”
Your what? I’m intrigued!
It was great to
see you again last Saturday. I know the
situation is rather difficult, but I hope you’re not hurting too much over
it. The last thing I want is for you to
get unhappy. I’m sorry I took your Gene
Loves Jezebel badge! Am I forgiven?!
Sally and Vin
went off to Glastonbury today. Have you
ever been?
By the way, I
adore your eyes…’
She
continues:
‘I certainly
don’t mind you saying the things you do in your letters – but they worry me to
the extent of panic! I’m frantic that
you’re hurting really badly, and I never wanted that. Please be happy…’
She
signs off with:
‘Love, kisses,
hugs, cuddles, ear wax, bogies, toe nails and gothic positions (!)…’
She
then resumes on Sunday 21st (at 10 to 12pm), having just returned
from Alex’s in Spixworth. She seems happy, but also sad because College
has finally finished and she now has no regular social life or money. On the last day, she gave the bitchy tutor ‘a
good mouthful’, and even though the tutor denied Naomi’s assertions, Naomi felt
much better having got a few things off her chest.
‘This weekend
was fine until Saturday. Alex got rather
pissed and rather anti-social. Don’t get
me wrong, he wasn’t violent or nasty, just annoying! It’s not much fun going to his, having to put
him to bed while he’s a giggling wally, and then sleep next to a snoring
twit! I only get upset because I love to
be at least cuddled at night and he just doesn’t know I’m there if he’s pissed. I talked to him this morning but he couldn’t
remember much. Now we’re sort of okay,
but not totally. It’s weird, while Alex
was asleep, snoring (!) beside me, I badly wanted a cuddle and you
suddenly popped into my head!
Today was
fine. We picked some absolutely gorgeous
flowers from his garden. A deep
purple/black pansy, a purple pansy, a yellow/red rose and a red rose. They are really beautiful. I’ve brought them home to press.’
She
goes on:
‘I met the
“star” in the theatre. She was very
nice, and helped me a lot. We talked
about where in life I should go, etc. I
felt very snobby talking to her! There
were bitchy looks all round from the coffee bar staff!’
She
also tells me she has her 11th driving lesson ‘tomorrow’, and signs
off in the hope that I’m happy.
I
am happy.
[Images subject to control of
individual Copyright Holders including works originated by Elton Townend Jones,
but excluding any images or design attributed to ‘The Situation’ which are
copyright of The Situation (see specific acknowledgements in the ‘Thanks to…’
section below) / ‘Berwin Groomstool’ is an iteration of the Situation character
‘William Whicker’ and falls under joint copyright of Elton Townend Jones and
Waen Shepherd / Based on true events and designed as a study of parochial
British cultural and emotional life in the late 20th century, this blog is a
work of fiction – cultural icons excluded, all characters and incidents
featured are entirely fictional / This blog is non-profit; all video clips are
used for illustrative purposes and always come from YouTube / No copyright
infringement is intended – just trying to get things into context. Never forget: no man is an island. If you think anything I’ve used is damaging
you in any way, please comment and immediate action will be taken to minimise
offence / This notice was amended on 1
July 2012 and is intended to
cover this and all posts on www.25yearstoolate.blogspot.com that precede it]
Next time: ‘Beach party…’
No comments:
Post a Comment