it’s all about

the rope light

being happy

the festival beginning 

knowing that the camera will save the day

stick men

one on ones

always forgiving but not forgetting

rekindling old times

what is cheese about:

getting to the detail……the specifics are what we want

Disclaimer goes here…..

whose car is black? is it a vauxhall? Maybe it is or maybe it isn’t

what goes on in the shower? how hot is the water? water on skin…water everywhere?

 Tell me the detail

Snippets of rehearsals

copy-of-washington-and-rehearsal-may-2007-037.jpg

Understated hell
Seeing what you’re not meant to see
The ceiling is like the floor only in reverse
Do you want something to drink?

its all about

playing

suprises

the washington the side we never sit on

calling up a number and saying hello

mr edwards being a stalker

boxes left with out a home

laundrettes the possibilites are endless

instant photos

the sign being lit for the first time

the sailor t-shirt that should be a dress

confessions in a toliet

placing the keys in the door

satisfaction of being right from the start

Automatic Writing

I fucked him, fucked a stranger and then I fucked his friend. He smelt familiar although I didn’t know his name. I want them all at once then I want you. It’s always you. I just want to feel you next to me. Alcohol on his lips, sweat on his forehead, stubble on his chin. I fucked him in the shower and then washed the fucker clean. I bit him. Satisfaction. Cigarettes in my mouth chocolate on my fingers. I want you in the morning. I want to have you without having you. Things would be different. Sitting on the floor drinking black coffee staring out the window, busy streets below. Lives of others with out a care in the world. The sounds of the keys in the door and footsteps in the corridor. Sitting on the floor waiting for you to come home, not allowed a key. Your boots on the floor rustle of bags and then silence. I don’t know where you are. A bang of the kitchen cupboard because the handles broken. The t-shirt you wore always the same you wouldn’t take it off. I wanted to wear it and you said it would smell of me and that you don’t want reminding of me when I’m not here. I fell in love with a bad man.  I want to hold your hand and run down the street with you like we use to. I want to feel you near. I want you to need me. I don’t want to need you. To feel your breath on my back and secret kisses in your room where no ones.  I cover bruises that remind me this is all in my head. Singing along to old songs that I can’t remember the names of going to the shops to buy your favourites things then hiding them around the house hoping that one day you will find them and smile because I only do it for you. Some day this will all stop. I like that you need me I want you to need me I want to lay with you on the balcony with cigarettes in my hand and a beer in the other. Dancing on the tables in the pub around the corner and drinking till we are sick. I need to see you one more time and then this will all be over. I cry and then I stop and then I start again always the same missing you I talk to you when your not there and fall in love with the person I thought you were all over again and then I want you again but forgive myself and never let go. I feel empty without you and invisible when you’re here. If I could only get away with out having to leave you. I can’t breathe when you’re not near me. The pain takes over and all I can think about is what you’re doing. I don’t want to be lonely I scared of losing you so I will keep doing it all for you, everything’s for you there is a better life waiting for us, I know it. I need to leave this place. I’d take your t-shirt and sit and look at old pictures. I want to know the exact moment you when decided to end this in your head. I don’t exist. Dirty clothes on the bed, the sheets ripped and hanging off the phones broken, the receivers dead, marks on the wall, stains on my underwear and all the blood on the floor. The constant mutter of the television set playing one of my favourite films I think I can’t quite make it out. The handle slowly turns and in you walk…. 

Automatic Writing

We have a pretty good life.  We have money to buy things, nice things…not like back home.  I never had any money there and there wasn’t much worth buying there.  But here, we have a house, a garden, a car, and clothes. Ha, ha….I have lots of clothes….and shoes.  Mikael is very good to me.We met in my village back home.  I was sixteen and people kept whispering about this handsome stranger.  I think I was in love with him before I met him. And then I did meet him.  He was very handsome and charming…….. so, so charming.  He was always dressed to perfection and he had a way of making you feel protected.  I knew that all the girls swooned when he was around so I ignored him…..smiled his way…..but ignored him.  It worked beautifully.  Mikael does NOT like to be ignored and he came to my house to tell me so.  How could I argue with that? So we started to see each other and he quickly asked me to come on a business trip to London with him. I was so excited.  I had never been out of the country but didn’t tell him that and I stayed calm. I asked him what his business was and if I should know the names of his colleagues for when I met them. I had worked as a secretary back home and knew this made a good impression.  He said that he was in customer service training but that I probably wouldn’t have to meet his colleagues as they would be tied up in meetings most of the day.When we got to London….well, things changed.  Mikael set me up in a flat with some other girls but we had to do work for him.  Mikael was under a lot of pressure from some other people.  It was a bad time.  But I was determined to make the most of it.  I got on with my customers.  Many of the girls didn’t talk to them. I did.  That’s how I learned English. That’s also how I learned to manipulate people.  I was able to get my regular customers to bring me things.  Jewelry, perfume and, of course, clothes….I love clothes.  At first Mikael was mad….very mad but I was able to convince him this was good for business.  He started to rely on me more and more, and we started to run the business together.  I stayed in touch with my regulars but was now more in charge of recruitment so I wasn’t around as much. Our business grew rapidly and we earned the respect of important people. Now we have two beautiful daughters.  No, they aren’t involved in the business although I can tell they have business sense which makes me very happy. But we want them to have their own life.  They’re at boarding school which is better for them with Mikael and I traveling so much.  We try to keep them as far removed from the business as possible.  We are training two of the girls at the office to take over things so we can retire at some point and move to Spain.  We even bought some land there by the sea.  So, yes, we have a pretty good life.

Automatic Writing

Come on. Come home. Bring another one and another one and another one think you will hurt me well you won’t. think I don’t like it well you’re wrong. Fuck me come on fuck me I’ll spread myself wide I’ll let you in come on then you fucking fucker if you want to then bring it on. Film me cut me hurt me when you hurt me I like it more. Can’t hurt me now too late too long too many they don’t hurt. I can’t think I can’t think I don’t know what I’m saying HA yes I remember I like it I want you hurry up and get home the more you bring the more they fuck the more theyre inside of me the more I know who I am and I know someone wants it you must have found someone everyone wants sex sex sex sex sex fuck whatever. Get them here bring them here bring them now I can’t think of anything else I want them to touch me their slimy greasy hands on me watch the video tell me what to do. Not sad not sad not happy but not sad want to fuck want to feel pain go on then you fucker give me pain here’s one. Here’s one coming through the door fatter than normal looks strong long hair. Seems he wants to play nice cut the crap cut the small talk come on then get it over with I want you come on. Don’t think I don’t I want you. Looks at me looks strange tells me what he’s going to do what he wants to do but not doing it. Asks if he can kiss no no kissing no love only fucking no love no love too many memories FUCK now I’ve lost it back in the room maybe if I stand like this he’ll stop the talking and just fucking get it over with you greasy slimy ugly sad little cunting fucker with you fucking prick just get it fucking over with go on it feels good for me too you know. Over too fast gone another one send another one in not too long alone I don’t want to be alone too long too many thoughts no thoughts no thoughts only sex send another send another send another send another send another too long where are they come on come on another another another no-one time goes on feels lie hours like days like seconds like days. Mustn’t think mustn’t think here he comes another one door opens.

Automatic Writing

Thinking wondering who am I where am I what are we doing why am I here I cant think I cant hear I don’t know where I am. I think I hear him come home. I stop breathing for a minute, try to make myself invisible, try to be silent and hope he forgets I’m here. Footsteps. Getting louder. Pause outside my room. I can’t think. I actually stop living for a moment my heart stops then beats so loudly so slowly so softly too loudly SHUT UP. Footsteps start again move on I breathe the air hurts my lungs my chest aches my body aches my stomach aches I want some chicken something homely some food that has been made with love is full of love shows me that someone cares. Instead I sit. I sit I wait. I know he will come back I have to get ready. He won’t be away for long probably gone to have a wank to warm himself up. To get me something to wear something to eat – all for him none for me no food no love only sex only crap only hurt. From what I remember of last time – I don’t remember clearly though. Was it real was it a nightmare? What happened? I cant say. Blocked it out. Two minutes left to go I need to prepare. How to prepare. Tell myself I love him I love him I love him I want to love him. I don’t know what is happening why am I here how did I get here I cant remember anything. Kitchen. I want roast potatoes. I remember roast potatoes they were always filled with love they took time to make took love to make and hot chocolate with a little marshmallow and a flake. And then hugs on the sofa hugs by the television all filled with love. Filled with love and then tears as I left and promises of visiting and then stop. No love. Only the memory of roast potatoes and chicken. I wonder if they have it still I wonder if I will ever taste it again I wonder if I will ever taste again anything other than the salty shit he sprays into me that reminds me of gravy and makes me feel sick because it has no love I think I would fucking puke if you gave me roast potatoes now if they had gravy fucking vomit it would remind me of him of the taste of piss and sweat and slimy shitty crap and I could never have any of it again because it would remind me of here of this of him. No love. No love. No love come ON I love him I love him I love him why can’t I think he is going to be here soon I hope he just wants to fuck me when he fucks me I can think about something else but when he shoves – footsteps. Getting louder. Pause outside my room.

Automatic Writing

It’s early I think but maybe it’s late, I don’t know anymore I can’t tell. I have no watch but I know I have been here for too long. Time passes because time always does and night becomes day becomes night again. I wish I was in my dreams where things are safe and warm and pink. I am hungry but I feel sick as well that is what I feel all the time a hunger but replaced by sickness. I hear noises, all around me is  noises that I can’t remember and I don’t know what they are, I don’t recognise them but I know they are close. Day after day my life is now like this, this is my normal day. Noises followed by footsteps and then he enters with a different client, sometimes they talk to me sometimes just to each other, they shout at me, hit me or not even look at me and each time I think that they will help me. I talk to them through my eyes I ask them to help me, to understand me, to take me away but no one ever does. She comes in a tells me to change the sheets, tidy the room, have a shower, gives me horrible knickers that I wear, things I would never choose in my own country. I used to dream of buying clothes like the magazines but look what I am wearing, she says I have to wear this because the men pay more. She tells me I am making too much of this that if I play but the rules I will pay my debt, she says to enjoy it that if I relax life will be better for me. Then she laughs her cold icy laugh and calls me a whore, she says I like being fucked, that I chose to do this because I am a whore that I enjoy being fucked that I look like the cheap whore that I have become. I don’t know, maybe I do, maybe I did ask to be here, maybe I am good at what I do. I have men every day, they want to fuck me they must see something in me but no one ever tells me I am beautiful so I know that I am not. Not anymore, not now. She says that I have no choice that I eat when she wants, sleeps when she wants and fuck who she wants. They come in to me and make me do whatever they want. I had no idea before I came here what I would be made to do. Some of them love it when I am in pain, they stick their cock wherever they want and enjoy it if I am hurt. I cry but they take no notice, they just come, pull on their horrible pants and leave. They pay their money so they get what they want. What is my future? I dream that it will change but when? How? I look out of the window, I love the street below, its busy, people shopping or talking all day long, I hear the noises of the children laughing and it makes me cry. I think that maybe I will jump out of it but I am too scared…..too scared to even jump why is that? I want to die but am too scared but surely that will be better than being in here.

Truck Improv (Blaming the victim)

it’s all about

characters in the canteen

name changing

mushrooms on potatoes…why?

the cheese being part of the name 

costumes talks

finally having a space which we can call ours