the morning, sunday mornings all start the same, me and a dog wandering other peoples debris leftover hungover spillovers from a saturaday night they will never remember, we take the frisbee down to the park and pan bedazzles the early morning joggers and newspaper hounds with his death defying leaps and mid air aerobics as he catches the disc. he is dog supreme, a canine god, he is my anubis, leading me into the after world, the feather of maat lays upon an ancient scale, awaiting measurement against my still beating heart.
i'm sitting around, like a stoned philosopher waiting for hp and jules to take me to the organic market on a mission we had arranged mid week but they do not show, they do not call, such is the unsubstantiated commitment women have with men. it's okay, i've learnt not to inflict my high standards on anyone else so i settle into domestic bliss and contentment like a small fish in a large aquarium.
the universe sends me miss cupcake, and we have a very massive breakfast together, she is indeed looking the best i have ever seen her but i'm not sure if i can be totally objective, she is luminous, the healthy lifestyle is beginning to take effect, although she won't ever acknowledge this due to a glitch in her perception. i've come across this distortion many times in many women, it's a product of a male dominated agenda, the beauty myth. it's a terrible crime that men are guilty of as a species and a collective as they plunder reality to spread their lies and deceptions. beauty is the heart, i don't like women who are to fat, just as i don't like very skinny girls, i like women to be alive, balanced and healthy but most off all intelligent, for there is no point in dating an android. i've spend enough time with androids to know they only run one good program and it's not after sex conversation, beauty is something that lies within the heart, it stays long after looks fade, in fact it starts to slip out and makes some older people shine with beauty where as others just may as well hide away under hair dye and lipstick and eye liners and the cosmetic industry which in reality is the pharmaceutical industry.
so we head down the markets together, me and her, two peas in a pod, she seeks out cacti and i a hat i'm fond of. the market seems to be very stale and have a strange energy, unhealthy faker's, her perceptive mind scans it, see this is why i believe in you, you see through fakery fast, you have that power yet you don't believe in it.
the other day we wandered through shops and i passed a man who i said was very sick, you knew that as well. it was all over his auric field spilling out, he has a serious tumorous growth in his bowels, he has not got long left, i know you knew that but you don't trust yourself.
underneath all the masks your the brightest star in the sky miss cupcake, if you don't trust yourself trust me.
so the market ends suddenly, we head down to a pet shop and you mention your ring is missing, the one you really liked, rose quartz on a gold setting. inexplicable but it can't be missing, it must be some where. i don't want that to be lost, i'm attached to it being attached to you, for some reason it did look very good and suited you. i look at your feet again, i've been looking at them all day in those shoes, it's driving me nuts, i have to force myself to think about something else.
a hail storm passes over us, lightning flashes, sirens, my two phobias out from the blue.
i catch a piece of hail for you, you grab it and throw it out the other side, what a strange journey that small hailstone has had, snatched from it's fall, passed onwards from one person to another and then tossed out to finish it's journey.
i leave. driving home i listen to richard ashcroft singing about, 'those feet in modern times' and i think yes, those feet in modern times.
i don't know much anubis, but pluck my heart out and weigh it against maats feather and i'm sure my heart will be lighter now than this morning.