I’ve been back to Oslo for about 9 months now, and things are not going well.
When the love of my life left me, and got my membership at the ADF in Belfast cancelled, I’ve gone to the rats and further. I’ve seen the Devil in the eyes, and spat in them both.
I can’t remember when I was sober last. I vaguely remember the last time I had my last orgasm and a smile on my face. I can’t remember when I haven’t been either pissed off about something, or wanted to blow my brains out.
And I ask myself on a daily basis why do I even bother putting up with this shit? Why can’t I turn back time and right the wrongs and the mistakes that got me into this crap?
Okay, I admit it! It’s like living through Groundhog Day without having the chance to do things different! I got another poetry collection written, and another one on the way. I even got a story from my last trip to Belfast written. Well, at least a first draft. This may be the story that will kill me? Why do I still care about this anymore?
Why don’t newspapers hire true Writers anymore? Why are the drugs here shit? Why has free speech become a swearword? Why doesn’t Kim love me anymore? She’s the one who got me to believe in love and life again. Why am I human with mistakes haunting me on a nightly basis? Why do I hate the World?
Why can’t I go into an editors office with a flamethrower and a story, and the editor is getting a hard on with a blank check and a credit card just for me to find out how many hookers and drugs I can buy for them?
Why can I just put a gun to my brain and blow off with a curse on my lips, “See you later pricks”?
I will tell you why!
It’s because I’m a bloody warrior with a pen in my hand and a keyboard with my head full of poisoness thoughts! And an anger to blow off entire cities!
Just give me a reason! This reminds me of something. Never give power to any artist who’s brain is fucked up on drugs and booze with a huge chip on his shoulder. Look at Winston Churchill and Hitler! Both excellent demagogues, both of them painters and authors. Both of them just insane enough to face each others fears. Churchill was a drunk and an old war horse with imperial interests. Hitler was a painter without talent whatsoever with a hatred towards anything not German. Especially the Jews, gypsies, queers, communists, democrats, and all who were not blond and blue eyed.
Churchill just hated Moslems. I’m no fan either. Well, it’s the whole concept of Islam I can’t stand. Equally am I sceptical to Christianity. Hitler was Christian; At least officially. I don’t know about Churchill. He acted more like a rabid dog in a prayer room than what I would consider a man of “Christian values”. He had he’s own demons to fight though. And when he didn’t fight a war half drunk, he escaped into painting, writing and more booze, while taking a piss a every stiff upper lipped women he would meet.
Hitler escaped into mad Messiah complexes and tried to steal all the art that was superior to his own scrabbles, and burn books and people for the pleasure of gullible idiots with inferiority complexes. Do you see the picture here?
An artist should never be given the throne for whatever reason! Artists should be the ones outside the shit and have a voice against the Power. Not collaborating with it! Artists must suffer and go through shit to get their points across! In due time be fed with a silver spoon. But they should never forget where they come from!
I certainly will never forget the hard times that has lead me here. Neither will I forget the creeps that didn’t give me another chance.
Writer with huge chips on his shoulders