Good Morning Manchester

The light seeping through the bottom of my stained yellow curtains is enough to make me want to stove my head in with one of the steel toecap doc martin boots that sit on the floor next to my bed. I only own the fucking things because I used to wear them when  I was 13 and it makes me feel like I might still be cool. I smell fresh urine when I waft the covers and realise I'm very far from cool...very far indeed.

  I reach for the can of flat Polish lager on my bedside table, it is the perfect accompaniment to the Valium I swig down with it. I let the warm fill me as I slowly try to get my head around the fact that the wank I'm just about to inflict upon myself will be the highlight of my day. My mother would be so proud if she could see me laid here in this shit stained hovel far from sunny Middlesbrough. Rusholme, The Smiths wrote a song about this place. I would have done myself but I can't write for shit and I sold my guitar for Smack money a long time ago. Was it worth it for the few hours I spent with my head on my chest, saliva soaking my faded Nirvana T-shirt, oblivious to the rank, pointless existence that has become my life? Fucking right it was mate. Fucking right it was.

  What to do today then. No job, no money, no T.V, no girlfriend, no food, no friends, no prospects, no hope, no fucking point. Plenty of festering takeaway wrappers, shit loads of cat shit, a veritable bounty of empty lager cans and cider bottles. Oh ye gods, what have I ever done to deserveth thy wrath. Was it that time I fingered Father Given's daughter behind the Chapel. Always thought you were gonna get me back for that one you big bearded Cunt. Don't pick on me, give that Paedo next door but one Swine flu or something, that fucker buggers kids and he's got a bloody BMW.

  I swing my legs over the side of the bed and make a concious effort to face the day. I'm half way there, I tell myself. Your 25 and there's no fucking way you'll make 50 so just hang in there. I start to masturbate. The cheesy unwashed genitals smell used to make me gag but it's something I've long grown accustomed to. I think about the last girl I made love to.  She appears in my thoughts like an Elven princess adorned in a flowing white robe, She smells lightly of old oak forests and fresh flowing streams, her skin is soft and cold , she beckons me forward through a hazy mist and she's in my arms, her big blue eyes, her long golden hair, her nipples erect and pink. I slide her robe to the floor, she gently blows and whispers ancient words I do not understand into my ear, I kiss her neck and a shiver runs down my spine, I move my hand down, down into her sweet, beautiful tasting wetness. She wants me, I want her, I've never wanted anything so bad, I'm inside her now and heaven has opened it's doors for me but briefly. I'm inside her now and everything in the universe is in balance, Heaven. Her, me, me and her.....Ohh Christ. I cum all down the side of my leg. I feel hungry. Where the fuck did I put that cold pizza?