Where we begin once again, realising that busy streets and painted eyebrows are another home

There is something magical about it. No question about it. Getting down from the scooter, pulling the keys out and then walking it.


You can walk down one-ways, you can walk on the wrong side of the road, you can cross wherever and whenever you feel like.

So magical. Like a switch. A magical switch.

You have to forgive me, the keys are a little bit rusty right now. Or actually its not the keys where the problem is. No sir. It is more like a tap. A rusty tap. Not rusty but clogged.

Where are you going with this?


No. You need to write. You need to let these streams and rivers flow out of your mind and above the space that exists right outside your head. Right above it. That magical hidden space where all your thoughts and your words hide at times. Where there is always  sparks and thunder and lighting. Because you need that space. Oh yes, you do. You need it so much you would give up anything for a little bit of that space. Just a little bit. All you need is just a little bit.
And there. Boom. Just like that we segue into a 50 cent song. Why kro why kro

Why cant Five Dimes stay away from your mind? Or is 50 in that magical space too? Playing Candy Shop?

Fkkkkkk. Now can’t get that song out of my mind. My magical space.

You say it like a slightly crazy (are there any other kind) woman would speak of her vajuju.

“Enter. My Magical Space”

That would be slightly creepy though. If someone actually said that when going bangy-bangy. I don’t know. Maybe she could pull it off. Some women can you know.


My new fav words are “Dont lie”

I love them. I really do.

So cute, so naughty naughty. Like little rabbits on ganja. Entirely devoid of malice.

“I lost 8 kgs!”

“Don’t lie. Must be at least 20 it seems.”

So harmless. Like amputated dolls.

Ok thats all for now. But I am back. I am full back only.


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