I awake to find that my girth has both swelled and diminished in the place where that is most advantageous. I no longer have a receding hairline; in fact my hair is much longer than I ever recall it. My singing voice has risen to heights I never thought possible and my sense of style and intelligence have also broadened incredibly. I am no longer a man, I am a woman. At last I will be able to get my end away, or is it get an end in? Anyway I am now certain that I can never lose an argument or custody of a child. In fact my only new concern is how to avoid being gang-banged, as of course I am an elegant Lady Prof.

If only all life’s problems could be so simply arranged, like glasses or a sex change. In fact that is what I need exactly, glasses and a sex change, not a change of sex, but rather a change to my sex patterns, which currently stand at my hand and…, well just my hand. Yes, perhaps being a woman is too much of a hurdle, as after all I have spent my whole life being a man. I think my father might say that this is perhaps an over statement, my ex-wife may also think that. But hey, I have had moments where I really felt I could achieve something; sure many of those were on drugs, but not all of them. The other ones were possibly not as memorable, as I cannot recall them, though I am sure they existed, probably when I was younger, before the bitter years began. I look back and think, ‘what have I done?’ I have to answer myself, but I am bored of it all, life goes back to clarity tomorrow, the squinting times are gone. My desire to change through simplicity is also gone, not because I wished I was a woman, but because I realise that without bitter times there would be no good. So if I changed now, then I would be cheating myself, as the reward is coming. Oh, fck, I am just remembering all the times when I was a cnt and that now makes my harvesting of good times seem less certain. Plus, if life was so predictable we would all want to suffer more, so we could then peak our heads off on the goodness that follows.

If I don’t look for a solution nothing will change. If I try and change, it will take time and pain. If I change rapidly, it probably won’t last, as it wasn’t real change. If I find 20c on the ground is that real change? I know Alexander would think that was pretty cool, so I will just adopt a new strategy. I will throw coins on the ground to keep kids happy…no that can’t be it. Oh, I could…I could…
I could just try and make the most….yeah not likely.
I wont take for granted…I would though.
In fact fck it completely, rules, codes, values, fate, it is all a myth of control. Perhaps that is my advantage, my magical power, I live with a feeling of limited control, if I could just remove any pretence of control then perhaps it will work out better.

Failing that I will just squint less, tomorrow is already looking up!

The order

I sit here, half asleep, yet more awake than I have been in mind for some time. I count the scratches upon my arms, I stop at ten, not because that is all I can see, rather it is all I wish to number. I gleam only a fraction of the damage, nothing serious, yet I feel as though my body has lost something of some importance. I cannot stop the tick tick ticking, it swells inside me like a growing wave of nausea. I taste the bile in my throat, I see your face, it goes quickly. I wonder if I see it at all. I am no longer sitting I am running, my feet pound upon the road. I slip briefly upon the wet white line down it’s centre. I stumble only slightly, but enough to raise the panic within me just that one bit higher. I begin to think that perhaps my fear has begun too late. I turn around to see you gone, yet I can smell that you were close by, that stale sweat mixed with the cheapest of perfumes. A woman shouldn’t be this way, I asked you once if you loved me, you told me that it no longer mattered. I have stopped running and now find myself sitting in the long grass crying, how did it happen? I read once that time slows down when moments of extreme violence take place, I have never known this to occur, yet I am not extreme, just violent. I live like I do not wish for tomorrow, yet it is the day after that which I am hoping will mark the change. I want only things that are held by other’s, my own possessions are nothing, until they are held by others of course. I far from regret this change, I wish only to distil, to clarify and then to preserve. I have so much more than I should, yet so much less than I deserve. I am bored of you, so let us start again and this time I will make the choice and you will do as I instruct and when you have had enough, well, that is the point when I will truly begin.

It is 25 years and yet not once have I told you how much you mean to me. I am not frightened any more, I am not ever going to stop, as after all I, well I only wanted to play. And as for you, yes you, well, you let me.