This is like an online notebook, this stuff is not finished or often even started properly.

Paranoia reigns supreme

A little bit of insanity goes a long way.  In fact someone once told me that it's vitally important that every once in a while you almost lose your mind in a basement bar.  It could be that it was actually me who said that, to myself, in the mirror, it was that kind of a night.  At some point it became clear, well actually the opposite of clear, that my friday had been taken over by some strange puppeteer.  My actions, the re actions my dialogue, whoever was controlling these things must have been one of the guys that writes those japanese anime films in which with no foreshadowing the little girls mum turns into a cat that is also a train and declares that she is also one and the same as the spirit of the forest.  It was an inverted mirror image of social interaction, it was people and things but without the logic that normally binds them.  Paranoia and fallacy reigned supreme, it was like when I was in the toilet trying real hard not to piss on my myself everyone swapped faces and picked strange phrases out of a hat, ready to say to me when I bumped into them on my way back towards the bar.  "I invite you, I invite you" "Joe, you have a stone for me" - what do these things mean? Now, the morning after I try to decode these things and see If I can't just shake them into shape.  And who sent me the text message that says "Is this your phone? I'm on to you motherfucker!!!".  It could all have something to do with the incident with the fat girl, you remember the bit when for no-fucking-reason-whatsoever she grabbed my hands like we were playing mercy and pushed me half way across the bar, what was that all about? who knows? no one it seems, people kept asking me and I could only ask them back, it will be a mystery forever.  Maybe it has something to do with the last incident in the basement bar, when the same fat girl now a regular feature of all weird nights (in future I should remember this she's a bad omen, if I see her under no circumstances take acid) grabbed me and with her tongue deep in my ear, she must have tasted wax, said "ich liebe dich".  These are all symbols, tokens of some underlying sense that I totally missed out on that perhaps I can never get in on, why did the australian never pull down his hood?, in moments like this, scrap that in times like these paranoia reigns supreme, the silver lining is that I think in reality I was actually being the least weird, I mean what kind of creature comes to a basement bar on a friday night and precedes to take everything seriously....

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