Never Too Late!

Never Too Late!
any resemblance to anyone real or imaginary is mere bad luck
we are all lying in the gutter, but some of us are trying to get up



It looks like it's time to split from my tribe. In ancient days, this would have been the ultimate punishment, exile from the tribe; worse than death. These days most people don't even have a tribe.

C___ the editor is saying (flattering me)... "I like your writing, write me something, anything you want... Preferably about squatting, or about heroin..." Oh God. Are you sure?

I don't even know how to begin to describe this self-help housing solution life-style (unkindly known as squatting) to anyone who hasn't been there (you might want to check this). But once upon a time (when?) I thought of myself as a part of this group, as having the nearest thing I'd ever found to family, as being part of a band of pirates, a here comes chaos gutter-glamorous guerilla-night-club-cum-safehouse for society's rejects, people who I've loved, people without whom I'd never had made it in this cold city...

The slanging match (see this) ended something like this, me speaking in Italics: [redacted]


dave bones said...

did ya fall out with all of them?

transience said...

just a chapter, yes? not the whole book?

I.:.S.:. said...

No, not all of them Dave, although I tried...

Just a chapter, definitely, not the whole book. It might even just be the preface or introduction or dedication ending and you've only just reached the first page.