2024-03-16: SECOND NIGHT

(2:47am)

Zendaya was in it… some kindof weird refectory. My last image was punching a small child in the face & then riding her twitching body facefirst into a concrete ledge over & over again.

(7.49am)

I was attending college in the British Museum I think, or possibly the National Gallery. There was some crazy radical kid there who wrote a pair of absolutely scurrilous & utterly illegal pamphlets full of vile drawings & writings, that circulated around & had police attention. SERIOUS police attention. They were like Fangoria crossed with the Marquis de Sade & we were under no illusions that when the author was discovered they would be arrested & charged.

I came into possession of a copy of both pamphlets & word soon got around. There was a tense scene where I had to leave school when the bell sounded at the end of the day & somehow evade police cordons around the entrances, etc., without being caught. I did so, but word was out & my name came to the attention of the authorities, & so I was caught on the way home.

My defense was that there were writings & drawings that were just as bad in the museum’s permanent collection—from people like Ron Athey & Franko B, specifically—so why was it different when I did it than when artists did? But my words fell on deaf ears and the following day I found myself trudging guiltily into school with the writings in a black & white pleather bag, having been instructed to hand them over to a teacher.

As I awoke, I had just been accosted in the corridor by a bully who was demanding that I hand over the bag, & I was protesting as my teacher would undoubtedly require me to show them to him. I promised I’d make a copy of the pamphlets for him, then swore as I realised this would be a distribution of illegal materials & would get me in even more trouble. So I choked the big dope unconscious when his back was turned & then kicked his face into a puddle of red mush with my steel-toed boots.

[PULLED TAROT CARD (morning): 5 of wands]