Insomnia
i was listening Insomnia all night long. Faithless.i know i have to wake up 8 or 9. but i can not sleep…I CAN NOT SLEEP SOMETHING ALL OVER ME.
in the next coming 11 hours, i will be sent into an other tiny pill box. a massage room in china town. the frist light of the dawn will penetrate the cheap curtains into the empty hand sink, the heat will still be off before the customers coming. must be very cold there at the early morning? isnt it…now i am laying on my bed with my twisted legs and feeling the temperature 37.2 from my pores , picturing the massage room on the gray wall where i use to gaze.
i dare not to tell you so far, my dear.the things happen to me here. well…simply, for the short version. i left him, the one who said in front of you he would take care of me and yes he thought he did, he finally brought me to here. should i be greatly appreciated? i thought i was. but anyway, now he didnt love me anymore, he is going to india to see his new girl. “it was my fault!” he reminds me about that frequently and subconsciously.
God is A DJ.
anyway, i was forced out by THE MISTAKES I MADE , homeless,IN the rain with the people where they hear their hurts. he gave me 4 days to move out from the house we used to call HOME, while i had no enough money and no place to stay. so i threw most of my things away and moved into a pill box in canning town. remeber you told me your mom brought you to a small town far away from Paris and when you got off the broken truck that was nothing over there? it was just like that. but it was fine. i built it up, a little cd case, a book case ,and the gifts you gave me ,i put them on one of my boxes. when i look at them, or the little crying monkey, i feel i am on the train. you are waiting for me at one of the stations when time returns to the summer of 2005, you are still fucking young and handsome, we hug and laugh and Del is there with us too. i have been missing you all, badly.
i got a part time job in china town, its one of the red light district in soho. there are many models and the perfume with the smell of bodies waving around, so complex and dynamic. they love to ejaculate into their mouths but you can not tell what happen when they are wearing a nice lipstick and carrying a little LV bag passing by. i only work there for 2 days a week which is fine for me and there is a gay bar near by that you would love it very much. the shop is a professional chinese medicine shop and the note on the wall says: YOU CAN NOT DO ANYTHING ILLEGALLY. i will take a photo and send it to you.
one of my colleagues who is chinese lady , was kicked out by her husband, she got a ordinary face but a beautiful nose. i have been seeing her crying few times in the corner of the dark red stairs. one time, she was asked to do a handjob by an Acha(the Indian men who used to be called like that in a hongkong slang ), she refused him and he shouted to her and rejected to pay until the shopkeeper almost had to call the police. but i have been told some other ladies they would do. in this area, for one hand job they could get 50 pounds. for one normal massage we could only get 15 pounds/an hours.
i never feel so close to them. they are actually dramaticlly into a part of my life now. as i am an insect walking alone inside of their organs, how much i have to walk carefully and not getting too bitter from the biles around me, i am affaid of that i can not even keep the right to be felt as i am still clean after i come out from those organs.
but i never never and never look down those ladies. please just imagine how difficult if i would had to touch these MEN , the ones who got the money and power but also ridiculously got a bunch of hard dicks in front of the void.
hand job is all about only 2 steps. one: like a dog chases the dicks. two: like a human picks the money. i can not do each of them, but i dont look down the popele who can bear it. because NOW I CAN TELL IT IS A most FUCKING HARD JOB in this world.
the lady with a beautiful nose who was kicked out by her English husband asked me that if i could help her to find a place to stay for 2 weeks yesterday. she used to sleep in the massage bed when the shop closing. but there is no heating at the middle of the night and the boss got really upset when he noticed it. i guess last night, she must be freezing …i feel so sorry i dont have any place to place her. my bed is so narrow as a sharp broken boat aside of the river, and i dont even have any blanket which i could simply cover her. but she went like that:”thanks! thank you very much. thank you…”
i met the other lady in the shop oneday, she came to me with a brilliant smile. she is over 55 or so. but i told her she looks like 46. that was a lie. i dont know when i have been becoming a liar. i massaged her with my elbows and observed her body: her breasts was cut off by cancer there are few seams on her chest which like a personal leather map. her face was terribly poor done by a failing skin grafting, all the skins are over pulled into the scalp just like a rubber with a sausage. her addomen told me that she had given a birth away to a baby many years ago. her toes were so thin and the red nail polish made it more thiner. she was so gothic, but THIS IS NOT funny. i treated her as the queen of Egypt, she gave me 10 pounds tip. i told her i do massage for woman in their home but not for man, and i only charge 30 pounds which is much cheaper than the shops.and i could come over anytime. she called me the next morning, she asked me to come over and do one more work to her.she told me she lives with her daughter.
the place near by oxford street, and the house is unbelievable rich with the jewish style. she was so weak when the door was opened. she looked like the last ant in the busy ant’s traffic before the storm arriving. “i am not sure if i should tell you i just work here, sorry, i told the lie and i dont live with my daughter right the moment, she lives quite far away from london.”
“never mind”. i said. i told the lie too.
she leaded me into her room, actually, she did not even has a room, the room she could stay briefly was belong to the little daugther of the owner. and in an other room where next by it looked just like a standard hour hotel but she did not allowed to sleep there as well. when i finished, she gave me 4 pounds as the tip,the hard english coins, and the sound of the coins were so pleasing. i took it and hugged her and asked her to take care of herself and LEFT.
on my way home i was thinking of her. she may have a lot of good memeries, but she is alone. she is lonely. i could smell her solitude. her low and salty temprature was lingering on my hands until i got off the tube.
few days later she told me she is fired. and she have to go kent or somewhere she could stay for a few days. i have no idea where is she now.
my dear, the deepest discrimination is that the people you love they think you are DIRTY. so i have to remind myself i am an artist when i massage those nerves.
