Black Rose.

ANOTHER GRIND |TUESDAY | PART 1 (1477 words)

I arose from me slumber and for the first-time in a long time, I notice there is silence. No apogee, no fucks. I can hear the distinctive hum of the fridge from the kitchen below so I could. Even that infamous song, by the local thrush, rang true. You know, I can't even remember passing out. I was literally that tired. I was out like a light as they say. Sleep; a magical and somewhat disturbing experience would you not agree. Dead to the world for many an hour. The last thing I remember was listening to Angie, the track that is. Shit, wait a minute, I remember something else. Did I get a buzz? I grabbed me cheap auld blower and noticed I had received a teksky from Angie, like. I read the message it was short but sweet.

Thnx 4 hanging out. You're a real cool guy, Kash.

Winkey smiley face, huh, I am left smitten for once and I also have a pleasant conundrum. Do I reply, or do I be a real cool guy and wait until I see her in school, bide me time, like. She knows I loathe blowers, I made that very clear to her. Nothing more annoying than getting a call. I'm not deaf but I struggle to hear the person on the other end at the best of times. Also most of the time the caller tends to waffle on and on and in most cases, I just hang up. Working in a call centre is certainly not on the cards me reckons. I prefer a simple teksky, in truth. It's simple like.

It is still dark outside, so it is. It's either very late on a Monday or real early on a Tuesday. I think the latter. To be sure I check the time and date on me blower and notice it is like five fucking am, I'm never up this early unless I pulled an all-nighter. I get up and smell me under armpit, I do stink a bit. I hate showers, well, water in general, I have excema ya see and water really irritates my skin especially when I lather with soap, but I want to make a good second impression in front of Angie, don't I. So I get into the shower. Me Michelle's hair clogs the drain and there is scum on the doors and tiles, revolting. I have a cool lukewarm shower (not me choice) and I wash thoroughly paying close attention to me hair.

When I am done in the auld bathroom, I went back to me szoba n looked in the wardrobe for some'n to put on. I see me black Nirvana T-shirt all Pat Malone like that'll do I suppose. I also put on me black tracksuit bottoms. Some'n a bit loose fitting don't ya think?

Michelle was in me szoba at some point as I was getting a bit of sleep. She left me a bud a ganja to smoke. No, she is not that nice, me Michelle is only getting me back for when I got her sorted last time. Because I don't smoke baccy anymore I have no need for it or skins. I have a bong but that is in me Michelle's boudoir, me thinks. Didn't want to go in there twould be a bit weird, especially if she had a client around. so I had a good look around me szoba, so I did. Fortunately, I found three skins, just what I needed. From a cool ashtray in the shape of a cannabis leaf I took out some of the baccy in the joint butts (rank, to a degree, I know), it must be done like. And in no time at all, I had a fresh joint rolled, way to recycle like. I am not gonna smoke it just yet so I am. I'll tease meself, do a bit first. At least have a cuppa coffee dont you think?

I put the rolled up joint in the back a me ear and walk down the stairs. I went into the kitchen and as you might expect it is in a right real kip. Real grubby like. The walls are painted a sickly apple green colour. the celling has emerging damp in the corner and there lingered a horrible smell. Dirty dishes from days ago had not been washed and had now piled up to the point of no return. The bread had blue mould on it lovely. Some a the tiles were cracked and blacker than coal. The bin is full to the brim. Rubbish litters the floor. There is grease dripping out a the battered and broken oven would you believe it was once white? Gawd only knows when that was last cleaned. I opened the cupboard and to me surprise, there is one blue mug, very clean but without a handle, a metaphor for all who live; we are all falling apart, bit by bit. That should suffice. I put on the kettle and tapped me foot to a beat I had in me head. With the ding of the kettle, I got me Aldi gold blend and made me a cuppa. I smell the coffee before I add the milk, the rich aroma stings me nostrils and me rassoodock ticks into life. There is just enough milk for me. Fuck, me Michelle, I paid for all the groceries this week. She can have her coffee like she likes her men, or so she professes, dark and strong.

I went into the living room and thought to meself. I have four long hours before school even begins. I might as well give this a bit of a tiszta, no one else will, but it will be pure dure. I sat down, melted into the couch and turned on the box. I watched some cartoons and sparked up the joint and truly enjoyed me cuppa. Was pure savage, like.

I was now very relaxed and awake and am in the mood for a bit of tiszta, not glamorous at all, but needs must. I went up to me szoba first to get me "Alice in chains," best of album. I went back down the stairs and put on the album in an ancient CD player that had gathered a lock a dust. The first tune is my favourite by far. "Man in a box" derives from being trapped, methinks, six foot under at least. Creativity as in art can be quite subjective at times. Would you not agree with me?

I picked up all me Michelle's clothes and put them on the vino couch then I remembered the baby jellyfish. I am so not picking that up. I decided to change the bin in the kitchen. That was gonna be rank. The revolting smell from the bin is wholly putrid, makes me sick. We are lucky nay vermin has entered and set up camp. I managed to change the bin and took the packed black bag of rubbish out the back and placed it in the neighbour's wheelie bin. Knackerish I know. I think the waste disposal men come around today, I hope at least. I took the changed black bag into the living room. I started to tidy up the place, so I did. The auld newspapers alone nearly filled up the brim a the bin, need some packing methinks. I checked the bills, the fucking electric bill was due two weeks ago, I better tell me Michelle. There are fast food wrappers that had to be cleaned and a few other bits and pieces like beer cans which I'll admit were mine.

Cleaning the house and listening to loud music is therapeutic, as good as meditating in some respect. Try it, O dear reader, for a bit of a kick.

In nay time at all (a good hour at least), the living room is spotless from top to bottom. It is more respectable at least. But I won't go so far as to say I'll eat me dinner off the couch. Not whilst the baby jellyfish is about.

I left me Michelle a note on the polished coffee table.

Electric bill needs to be paid like to fucking today! And there is a nasty used condom under the cushion on the sofa. Sort it! Thanks.

I left the bill clearly visible but to show I cared I also left a one skinner on the table. She does not like to smoke big joints, or so she says, she prefers a packed smaller one.

I have another smoke meself and relax.

Still, it is dark outside.

I so can't wait to see and hang out with Angelina...

I hope she is not overly bazzoomie regarding the fact I didn't give her a teksky back.

Time will tell, I guess. It always does.