There are people you don’t want to let into your home. You don’t want to eat with them, you don’t want to give them anything, to speak with them or to know them. They will grasp onto anything that will give them even a little power over you. Dealers in ill-understood energies, they are. An incautious word, a toenail paring, a secret memory, the flavour and atmosphere of the space where you live – they collect these things like a child collects toys. You will find your energies being used in nefarious and furtive magics, your karmas entangled with foreign and alien ones.
You can shoot them in the belly and knees and leave them alive to suffer. But you don’t know if that’s the worst punishment you could give them. Maybe lying for months in hospital they will finally find peace of mind, come out changed men, having found the strength and happiness within. You wanted them to suffer, but you’ve enlightened them instead.
“Decide what you want, now. Because you’re going to get it.”
I chained my bike to a nearby bull elephant and went to score a rock of crack. When I got back someone had shot the elephant for its ivory and nicked the seat of my bike.
It sounds like a big angry machine, chewing on the souls of k heads, spitting them out to cower gibbering in the corners clutching the floors. The techno is alive. It will bring you things, bring you drugs, but it doesn’t like to be switched off. It wants your energy, it wants your mind.
and the kids, the empty-eyed kids looking from the gloomy warehouse corners...
