on my way back from a shift at the London Stadium:
chim-chimeney chim-chim chimey...
we're the boys in claret and blue...
the cockney boys... resounded the drunken football
chants... walking among these "boys":
i felt inclined to find myself with some camaraderie...
my god... the atmosphere on the event...
West Ham vs. Seville... 1 - nil in the 90 minutes...
everyone working the steward shift was sort of
gagging: please no penalties...
boys... just finish it off in extra time...
and boy... they delivered...
   what was supposed to be a 10:30pm: ******* home
became a: 11:15pm: ******* home...
my stomach shrank to a size of a walnut...
you eat a pasty at, say... 2pm...
             then it's all Ramadam downhill from there on in...
i was gagging for a chicken burger once i reached
Romford... but the queue! the ******* queue in
the chicken shop... and at the bus stop i read:
3 minutes until the one-oh-three arrives...
well... it's coming way past 12am... i'm not going to
wait an extra 20 minutes... just so i can buy a chicken
burger / wrap / five spicy chicken wings and a dabble
in chips... plus... a 7 hour shift... 1.5h to get to the venue...
1.5h to get back... my stomach... shrunk to the size
of a walnut... i'm going to get a stomach ache if i eat
too much... there's some pita bread: let's pretend they're
naan bread... and some leftover curry...
peanut butter curry... what do i find in the leftovers?
one piece of chicken... a cherry tomato...
i cut the pita bread in half... i'll drink more...
plenty of that bubblegum bourbon where it came from...
i don't get it though...
Bukowski and the drudgery of work...
compared to studying chemistry...
compared to roofing... this... "job"... is a ****-take...
it insults my intelligence...
then again: i have this avenue to mind...
i don't care... i'm sticking around for as long as it takes
to get good references...
always on time... always well dressed...
mindful of coworkers...
      blah blah... blah...
                  even today... my god... the atmosphere was
great... i had... zilch worth of worry
about pitch-"invaders"...
        i have this one spot... gate 139...
   three pundits that took a liking to me...
everytime they see me... i greeted with a thirst for joviality...
i don't seem to recognise / see any other stewards
getting hugs... Chris... upon leaving he says
to me: this stand is so much different with your
around... you what? yeah... you come round
to all the other stewards... asking how they're doing...
by simply kneeling down beside them...
you make them feel important...
but they are...
              hugs, high fives... people have been
starved when it comes to physical contact...
i can... see it... last time around i was given leftovers
of gummy bears... gelatin sweets...
i'll get to know the other pundits names...
Chris is already covered...
   but like i explained to this chubby cutie...
i have a weak-spot for gelatin sweets...
rubber-dummies... you can hide the chocolate...
i'm not after that...
but people want to hug... so... i hug...
         and if i really do care about my coworkers...
then? i care about my coworkers...
today was a bit of mash-up...
   i was sharing the position of break-duty guy with
a Brendan... misinformation...
if i did the role alone... i would have covered everyone...
like this one girl...
now... i'm not the prettiest "thing" alive...
but... you sort of sport subtle cues...
you give a recipe for a banana loaf to a supervisor
that's a woman... you're friends with her mother...
she sends you photographs of her: hey presto...
now she appears...
   with freshly washed hair... mascara...
and lipstick...
this other girl? i knew she was pretty...
the first two times i saw her?
she was donning fake eye-lashes...
long enough to compete with nails of black girls...
mixed-race... does that bother me?
oh **** no... i like an ethnic cocktail...
rabbit **** for a deer ****... sizes counter matter...
today? all her fake eyelashes were gone...
sure... she slapped on some extra make-up...
dyed her hair... how did she position herself?
sort of... right... next to me...
it's so cute... not looking when "blinking"...
across the horizon... to find a girl looking at you...
it's cute... when a girl looks at you
not looking at her...
       is she ******* telepathic or something?
last time i saw her i was thinking:
you'd look really pretty without those fake eyelashes...
i mean: there are eyebrows...
and there are fake eyelashes...
i can't see the iris of your eyes! let alone the sclera!
how pretty she looked...
such a shy 5ft7 number...
         i almost wanted to crumble a cookie before
her eyes and tell her: cutie-pie...
cute... cute.... cute... i want you to become
my BAMBINO...
on the way back i figured... well... this gig is going
to die a sad little death... not before i get my references
will i get an SIA licence to become a security guard...
i'm thinking... teaching...
but these four friends were talking on the train...
i never had friends to go to football matches together...
i should mind... eh...
there are other pleasures in life...
   hmm... le wagon coding bootcamps...
full-time / part-time courses end in April 2022...
maybe... a digital nomad?  
coding... teaching... but at the same time i'm looking
at this petite... mixed race... critter of a beauty...
she dyes her her... relinquishes those ugly
fake... stick on eye-lashes... now her body matches
up to her: ever more so petite face...
what a tender, pretty sight...
              i like a bit of a "permanent" sun-tan...
   like any blue-blooded whitey...
   id love some DNA invigoration... like any Windsor
might... i'm looking at her...
Wojciech Kilar's Dracula: the Beginning
is playing in the back of my mind...
while i think about... breaking her... performing
******* *** on her...
              with a body comparison: ratio...
i would break, her...
      thank god she's not wearing those fake eye-lashes...
now i can see her eyes...
i can also concentrate on her eyebrows...
and all the other features of her face...
some Asian... oriental guy kept chatting her up...
two semi-toddler twins ran down to her gate
"inquiring"... i just watched as her face glowed
in the artifact of the potential of being a mother...
i get those two... interludes...
frustrated glimpses into being a father...
   i get them...
    they're rather spontaneous...
they last for about... 5 hours at a time...
the day? i rarely have a choice...
                                    but i sometimes
come to the conclusion:
i made bad choices...
                 then again: was anything, counterproductive?
was there something, "spectacular"
awaiting me? i don't think there ever was...
so... what loss?!
i have this whole Dracula mythology in place...

i feed off the shadows...
the night... the forest... the moon...
in Deutsche...
  
       ich füttern aus die schatten,
die nacht.... der wald...
   der mond...