PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

8:50pm, Tuesday, February 08, 2005, Lagos... again!



It was to be different this time. I had planned it so. Searching the Trading Post for days, looking for an affordable digital multi-track recording device, I'd decided that during this trip my free time would be dedicated largely to creativity - not drinking. I gathered all necessary ingredients - electric guitar, two microphones, drum machine, guitar effects processor, cables and accessories - and carefully packed them into the guitar case. The digital 8-track I eventually decided to buy came with it's own hard case. This time I was actually looking forward to it... another three months in the pits of hell - Lagos.



---> POP THE FIRST DREAM-BUBBLE! <---



Actors: Asshole Clerk at the Emirates check-in desk (AC);

Billy Boarster the weary traveller (BB).



AC: Umm... you are way over the weight limit for your luggage. Your suitcase alone goes over the limit. In fact, I'll need you to remove some items from it because our OH&S policy restricts any piece to a maximum of 32kgs. (gives a routine 'concerned yet empathetic' look to BB) Is there anything in the suitcase that you can... err... do without? You can either store it in a locker, or we can dispose of it here at the check-in desk. (shrugs as if to say 'only doing my job mate')



BB: What!? Last time I travelled they only checked the number of pieces, not weight! What are you saying? I can't bring these? (points at guitar & multi-track cases)



AC: Well... it's up to you. The rate of excess luggage is $45 per kilo, and you are... 22kg over... so it'll cost you over $1000 when you count the excess luggage handling fee. And you still have to bring the suitcase down to 32kgs. (shrugs again) Sorry... but it's airline policy to stick to weight restrictions for safety reasons.

As if I was rejected... these days only materialise with the bold consumption of daily existence. Either way... I'm fucking exstatic to be here!  The kava shall lead my way...

06-01-05



What a fucking ordeal!!! It is now 3:44pm, at Los Angeles airport, where I have just sat down to calm down with a cool pint of Samuel Adams, after spending over two hours picking up my luggage, going through customs, getting fingerprinted, photo snapped, continually asked casual questions about my occupation, destination, originating point etc. by every fucking airport official I walked past, then lining up again just to put my luggage through to the connecting flight to Fiji! I mean c'mon! I'm in fucking transit here!!! I have flown around over four continents and never have I come across such unnecessary and pedantic checks just to swap planes! I guess I know now why I've never set foot in this country earlier... instinct must have told me to keep the fuck away.



Ok, so I lied in the last diary. I did comment that I was just coming down off a very bad NYE. At least I don't dwell on my self-pity. Usually doesn't last longer than 48 hours. Besides, I was given a confirmation that I have at least one reader. Perhaps a bit quiet lately but she spoke up as soon as she heard I was gonna pull the plug on the diaries. ;o) Right C?



My connecting flight doesn't leave until 10:30pm this evening, so I guess I really should be doing the touristy thing by hopping on a quick Hollywood tour bus and whipping out the video cam. Seeing as I went through all that customs bullshit it means I can fuck off from the airport - the only downer to being in transit in most other places where you don't have that ability. But after what I just went through I know which I prefer.

11:10am  Shiphol Airport, Amsterdam



So… three nights in London, three nights in Amsterdam, and now off to Stockholm for three and a half weeks. Too bad I was struck down with gastro for five of the last six days. So much for my wild party plans. I mean, it’s not much fun traveling alone, but it’s MUCH worse when you’re traveling alone and you can’t get shit-faced. Well… I did still get kinda shit-face though, didn’t I? ;o) Nothing stops this boar. The mushies kinda made me feel wholesome again. Like they had some weird healing powers. You’d think that poisonous mushrooms would complicate your illness to a higher degree, but for me they seemed to make things better. In fact, I had my first somewhat solid shit this morning – for the first time since Friday evening.



So what about London? No mention, no diary? Well, to be honest I don’t have a lot to say. After spending time here in Amsterdam I wish I’d just skipped London and come straight here. London was sterile… lacking character and charm. It may have been different traveling with friends, but as for solo faring, Amsterdam is the place to go. The beautiful canals, the old European architecture, the squillions of bars, restaurants & “coffee shops”, the laid-back atmosphere all make this the perfect place to chill out for a week or two. Three days wasn’t enough. I had to give away my remaining ‘mushroom enhancer joints’ and an almost full bag of Dutch Shiva to the beautiful receptionist at the hotel. “Does anybody smoke here?” I asked her, just before leaving in my taxi. She was busy decorating a Christmas tree with the porter, but her eyes immediately lit up and she replied, “You need to get rid of some? Sure!” I pointed out that the tubes contained the enhancer joints, and that the bag was the Shiva weed. “Great, thanks!” was the happy response.

1:45am 2nd Jan, 2005



Not quite four months... but enough. I've had enough. There is a burning rage inside of me... an unrelenting anger that won't be appeased until I return home. The more you expect the more you will become disappointed. I thought I learned that long ago, but it seems I am still as stupid as I ever was. Then inject the sadness... the despair. Could it be the lack of atmosphere? Considering the recent Asian crisis? Or is it that I'm just stuck in another country, another culture, another time in space? Is it the lack of true friends? Or the loneliness imposed by lack of true love? Just when you think you have a grasp on life's meaning, it slips through your fingers and you're as lost as you ever were.



Here come the tears... the cavalcade. The salty reminders of your emptiness. And then... the ashes rise! My fucking Phoenix lives! I trample the absurdity threatening my sanity. I trample the little sympathy I have for others. I trample anything blocking my path to bliss. I trample...



So the tears have dried... the pain has dissipated. All the dials are pointing in the right direction, once again. The eternal facade is reborn. Inside I am dying.



But now, I'm also dying on the outside. The decay is in totality. I have no regenerating remedies at hand.



I want to sleep. I want to sleep for a very long time...



I want to sing!





Lying through my teeth again... self destructing one bullet at a time.



I think I have pushed beyond the admissible threshold. Once again... the point of no return.

10:18am 16/12/04 Stockholm…



Back ‘home’ for the first time in over ten years. Staying with my mother, who I’ve only seen half a dozen times in the past fifteen years. She lives on a lousy pension, so her fridge is quite bare. My first mission today is to rectify this situation. I’m taking her food shopping, and may pick up a kettle while I’m there… she uses an old microwave to heat up water. Well, better go have my shower and get ready.



09:41am 17/12/04



Got the food, got the kettle…now I just have to take her out one night, to break the monotony of her mundane life. I think she’s going slightly crazy. She walks around all day, talking to herself out aloud. She completely forgets something that happened only minutes ago.



We visited her father yesterday, who is now almost completely blind and going deaf. His life consists of eating, shitting and sleeping. He seemed somewhat happy to know that I was present. I filmed him for quite a while, as he reminisced on some old stories.



This place is depressing… the dreary winter weather, with its handful of hours of sunlight, doesn’t help either. All the leafy trees are barren skeletons, lit up by the gray skies. It’s hard to trade three months of the midday sun being directly over your head, to being slightly over the horizon. The sun rises around nine ‘o’clock. By two ‘o’clock in the afternoon it’s dark again. And it’s not even mid-winter yet!  



Think I’ll go visit my sister tonight, mainly for internet usage, so I can book a hotel in Fiji. This time I might splurge a bit. No more ‘Lonely Planet’ recommendations that end up being tiny rooms with almost no services! This time I want to spoil myself… room service, massage, snorkeling, swim-up-bar, jet-ski, kava ceremonies! :op Can’t wait…

Past experience,

Canteen break

with the perm staff,

they feel awkward.

I feel awkward too.

Why?

Because they have some information,

of which is not convenient to share

with myself.

And me,

don't have much to share.

Awkward silences,

glances.

They don't want me to know,

And I'm not supposed to know.

So independent,

free agent

I

must be,

learn

on my own.

7:48pm 13/12/04



Amsterdam…



Where else in the world can you walk in to a shop, approach the attendant and ask “excuse me, could I please have twenty grams of your finest fresh Hawaiian Panaeolus Cyanescens mushrooms?” Well, I guess you could ask any shop attendant this, but the only place in the world where you’ll actually have your request satisfied is Amsterdam.



“Would you like some ‘mushroom enhancer’ joints? You know about m.i inhibitors right?” he kindly replied. I told him about last night’s fiasco with the dried version - I bought a hit of the same type but in the dried version and it had virtually no effect on me – so he was doing his best to help me reach a fantastic high this time around, with the fresh version. The advice I got was to eat them on an empty stomach, eat little sugar, and smoke the enhancers just after I’d eaten the mushies.



Was supposed to meet up with Berry & Aiden tonight (two UK/Irish characters I met last night, playing pool at the ‘Waterfront’) to see ‘Boom Chicago’ at the theatre. I really can’t be fucked… and besides, I can’t remember what time it was we were supposed to meet… was it six or eight?



8:02pm  First 10 grams is down the hatch, so it’s time to light up the first enhancer joint. ;)



Think I’ll wait and see what the first 10 grams do to me before a devour the rest…. Already feeling tingles and it’s only been five minutes! It did say that this variety was the strongest, with the most intense visuals. Not sure what’s in this fucking ‘mushroom enhancer’ joint, but I’m getting fucking high! :op





*     *     *



10:01am

06/12/04  22:20pm



Was going to reminisce about my trip to Port Harcourt a few weeks ago but I don’t think I can be fucked any more. Worked twelve hours today and I really can’t be bothered repeating the story. Most people who wanted/needed to know about it were told in emails anyway… maybe another time. Perhaps when I’m flying towards Dubai, getting out of the surrounding filth, I will feel more inspired.



Actually, my current surroundings aren’t so filthy. I’m back in Abuja. Back to the clean streets… a good warm up for the senses – just in time for the impending culture shock, due next Thursday morning, when I arrive in London.



I don’t even have the energy to winge about the hotel reservation mix-up debacle this morning. Nor do I have the energy to complain about the unknown asshole who vandalized one of the cables my driver brought up here – meaning it would be impossible for me to complete my job without flying back to Lagos to pick up a replacement cable. No, don’t think I have much energy for anything more tonight… not even a wank. So, goodnight.