He

He appears to be wildly free, a mindset and lifestyle that expands across deserts, sheets of colour, dark greens and blues lay over murky sand. To his lovers mildly free is too much of an exaggeration, for the boy inside his opened box has a metal box, padlocked and screwed to the ground.

For breakfast he eats pot noodles x3, an ecstasy pill and a beer, not because he is a junkie, but a free soul in a free world.

He is not on ketamine, yes he has taken 15 bumps today, but he is not ‘on’ it.

He does not make friends with women, well he does only until they turn him down for sex and affection.

For years he has loved himself and led himself to believe that by possessing a girlfriend gives him status, a drama, a thrill when he fucks other women or at least makes attempts, because, yes, he is free, he can do that.

And it is cool to be demeaning to women, no and of course he disagrees, because he is a liberal but his heart shouts different things “ ‘coz she aint nothing but a fucking cunt”.

He had a gay experience, of course because you have to in this day and age, it is currently all the rage.

He sets up his tent in the middle of the shelter so he never misses a word, that’s why he hides his video camera, to see where he rates on our scale of relevance when he is not around.
He is authentic, he shoots with a manual camera, colour pictures, then scans and uploads them to facebook.

He cannot hold a conversation as his opinions are merely borrowed, half borrowed. He is too liberated to fully understand.

And in circles and in circles he runs, in dark, dark shades of black and red, giving stones, placing them on the shoulders of everyone he meets.