I stayed for my housemates party and shared a few sincere conversations.
My girlfriend floated around in her long low cut black dress with a relaxed radiant smile. I watched her endeavours to appear unaffected by whatever substance she was taking become overpowered, as the skin on her face contracted like a picture taken at the wrong moment. I went upstairs and poked my head into one of the bedrooms she was periodically visiting. I saw her back and a protruding hand resealing a little clear bag with a redline across the top.
When I woke up I had an unexpected message from my gf’s friend asking to meet him in Lucas gardens the next day. He’s read the blog and is interested in spirituality. The content of his message was affectionate and I thought it was brave of him to step outside the restrictions of conventional masculinity especially since we don’t know each other well. I would certainly have been more reserved in his position due to the conditioning of rejections from people I’ve looked up to in the past. I did question the peculiar nature of the message and whether it had anything to do with the synthetic candour of a post big night, especially since he didn’t show up.
We’ve been buying this biodynamic apple juice from Peckham platform farmers market for months. I asked the employee if they needed any workers and was invited down to the East Sussex farm to meet the owners.
I was introduced to the farmer who shook my hand while looking in the other direction. He lives in a trailer home with his family in the middle of a 200,000sqm orchard where 3000 chickens roam freely. He took me for a walk around the perimeter and abruptly told me everything he didn’t want from an employee. His austere behaviour was unreflective of my character and I began to smile with declining interest.
He invited me into his home and I sat on the couch, his kids lounged on me while their cat quickly sprawled out on my lap purring.
The farmer had made it clear that he wanted permanent, reliable workers and I summoned the courage to tell him I have a tendency for spontaneous wandering and that I was just after some quick money. He gave me a lift home and offered me a casual job at his London farmers markets.
During meditation yesterday I decided I was going to attend the opening of Russell Brand’s new cafe in Hackney and try to ask him a question.
I ran to Queens Rd station about 1000am as a train was pulling up, my oyster card was empty (didn’t buy a ticket) but I knew I had to get that train. When I got off at Haggerston I looked for someone in a hurry without a bag on and piggybacked them through the barriers. A lady saw saw me and gasped as the alarm went off.
There were about 150 people outside the cafe including BBC reporters in a roped off area. Russell appeared and made a speech then posed for pictures. It went quiet for a moment and I yelled, “Hey Russell! Can I have a job?” People around me started giggling and the creases from his face disappeared as he looked in my direction to verify the question. “Can I have a job?” I repeated. I had his undivided attention, it would have made an exciting photograph but I refrained. “Are you a recovering drug addict?” He asked. “I’m completely recovered,” I called out. “Wrong answer,” he said “Recovery takes one day at a time, but yeah, maybe.”