Monday, October 03, 2005

The Art of Conversation

So, are you Italian? You look Italian, with that hat on. I should have my hat with me, but - as I said to these guitarists last night - I just can't wear my hat like it is, I just can't... they told me to pull myself together and go to the police, coz, like the guy above me is a herion addict, and he killed the woman in the flat below, I mean I didn't go to the autopsy or nuffink, but he musta done it, he's got gold teeth and he's filthy rich. Anyhow, there were two police cars outside, and I though "I could ask for a lift to the station" but then I just went home didn't I? Screwed it up as usual. They said "you need to make a complaint, coz it's messing with your head, innit?", but I screwed up again, just like with the canvas today. You know I'm an artist? I am a fucking good artist. This mate of mine - I used to live in Chelsea, you know, before my breakdown, and before I got ME - this mate gave me this canvas for free, and I used his acrylics and frame, and I painted this picture of a river and a horse and a ballerina, and stuff, and took it to George Four, and they offered my £700 for it then and there, but I said "nah". I think I can get more for it than that. I mean how can I go on when I lent 400 quid to the heroin addict to get me a new key, and he just took it? I have to buzz his flat to get into the apartment block now, so I look like some dealer. All the needles and swabs with blood on them on the stairs. I need to get out. I need to sell some paintings. I am a fucking good artist, you know. This star here, I made it when I was inside last year. I can't sell my paintings. I won't sell them, no... Yeah, I used to tour with Alabama 3 - Larry Love is mah mate. i bought him a drink in the Albert once, coz he was interested in my illness, what with being in the hospital and having ME and everything, and he's Welsh too, watching the rugby...
The Prince, Brixton


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