Roy

Too long

Tramgirl has been hiding out. For no particular reason she tells me, however I know her too well to know that there has been something on her mind.
"So where have you been?" I asked her as we sipped on a beautiful single malt.

"I've just been thinking......" Tramgirl got up and poured herself a neat whiskey.
"Thinking?"

"Yep" Tramgirl looked me in the eye as if to say, don't even dare.
But here's the thing, I do dare and I will every time. If she lives in my house I must know.

"You know, the thing with you is that you think too much about me thinking." She said looking at the ice in her glass.

She was right, I did think a lot about what she thought, she intrigued me, it wasn't every day that my flat mate was a cartoon character.

"Here's what I think about...." She said as she sat up tall in her chair.

"I think about everything, how I'm sitting, how I'm breathing, if people like me, if I like people. Mostly I don't, it takes a lot to enjoy people, which is why I've been hiding out. "
On saying that Tramgirl stood up, looked me in the eye and said, "I'm not ready to be around you. I've got more alone time."

And she left. Nailed up her doors and put on Concrete Blonde very loud.

I'll see how she is tomorrow.

Mysterious Tramgirl

Tramgirl likes to think of herself as deep and mysterious.
“You're so mysterious Tramgirl.” I said while I painted on her shoes. Her face lit up.
“Do you think?” she asked.
“Is that what you're going for?”
She stopped and thought then she stroked her chin and said,
“Maybe I am, maybe I'm not.”
Ok then.

silence

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“Hello.” Tramgirl interrupted my meditation. I ignored her.
“Hello!” I opened my eyes to find Tramgirl dressed in a purple dress smiling. I closed my eyes again and I heard her little feet patter away.
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Patter, patter, patter.
“Excuse me? Hello?” This time softly.
I opened my eyes to find Tramgirl in a lime green jumpsuit.
“Where you going?”
“No where.” Before she could walk out again, I grabbed her little ear.
“Are you serious?” I said
“Are you serious?” she spat back.
Eye to eye we stood. I threw my hands up.
Tramgirl walked into her room. I sat on my mat.
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After I finished my time of silence I went to find Tramgirl.
Knock. Knock.
“Who’s there?”
Is she serious? I walked in to find her in her polka dot shorts softly playing her guitar. She looked up at me and smiled and said.
“Meditation is everything.”
I slapped her in the face. And she laughed.
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Meeting Carlos

Tramgirl leapt out of her bed this morning and jumped onto me as I was writing.

“Whoah! What’s up?” I asked.

Tramgirl wasn’t sure if she was going to tell me. “I…I….I…..”
“You what?” I picked her up and walked her to the kitchen as I made myself a coffee.

“I meet a man in my dream.” She said as I sat her on the bench.
“Yeah..” Tramgirl was always meeting people in her dreams.
“This time it was crazier than ever. The man Carlos, told me to write musicals.” As she said this Tramgirl jumped off the bench and began to swing her arms from side to side.
“He also told me to do this.” Swinging fasters.
I sat back down to write.
Tramgirl is still in the kitchen swinging her arms from side to side and humming, I’m sure it’s the tune, “If I only had a brain.”

give up the fight

Tramgirl has been walking around the house with a spring in her step.
“What's going on with you?” I asked.
Tramgirl walked up to me, leant right up in my face and whispered in my ear. “Give up the fight!”
“What?” I defended
Again she whispered.
“Give up the fight!” She took a step back and smiled.
“There's no war.”
At this point she pulled out a white flag and handed it to me.
“Give it up.” She said faintly as she walked out the backyard to simply sit in the sun.
Moment to moment.

tempeh

Mostly when autumn hits,Tramgirl just wants to hang out inside. Ya know. Make soup. Eat polenta with shitakes and tofu. Make soup. Drink Miso. Cook a lot and eat a lot and she will do this. And also this year she'll be busting out. Autumn is her favourite season. The smell. The colours. The malting. She's thinking of shaving her head and making a hair hat. Hair hat rat tat tat tat! Meow.

Tramgirl doesn’t really like cats. But she feels as if she is one today.
I asked if she wanted a coffee earlier and she ran and jumped on my lap and licked my face.
I guess that’s a yes!
I want tempeh! Meow!

Wondering about Wondering

Tramgirl has been wondering about wondering. Wondering, pondering and exploring what it is to wonder.

‘What is it all about?’ she asked me while I was painting her.

‘Ummmm..so much. Let me see. About loving, about sharing, about understanding, about pain, about joy, about hating, about snoozing, about longing, about eating, about wishing, about being so upset that you can’t speak, about finally speaking, about wanting to be somewhere else, about being EXACTLY where you are, about being red-faced. Being embarrassed and not knowing why. About knowing why and that knowing why, killing off the magic of life. About laughing, about vomiting, about being horny, about silent moments.
About nothing.
About creation.
About making it all up on the spot and trusting whatever you say will be the thing to say. About being unleashed, like a dog. About being a dog. Woof.’

Tramgirl looked at me with a look.
I continued…
‘About eyes, about noses, about feet, about legs, about arms, about sandwiches, about soup, about miso, about pasta, about noodles, about hair, long beautiful hair, shiny, gleamy, steaming, flaxen, waxen, give me down to there, long beautiful hair. Hair. Hair! Hair!’

Tramgirl run out of the room and run quickly back wearing her purple tie-dye hair t-shirt that she’s had in a box since 94. Smelt like incense.

‘Remember this?’ She asked me spinning round.

Tramgirl then stopped and looked me deeply in the eyes and said.

‘Maybe, just maybe its all about the questions.’

Thank you Krishnamurti

Painting yourself

Tramgirl got up this morning to paint herself.

It’s how she dresses herself.

Because it’s so hot, she didn’t want to dress herself this morning but unfortunately for Tramgirl even being nude requires painting.

She stood in front of the mirror painting herself looking very pissed off.

“Fuck it!” she said jumping in the shower. Tramgirl washed herself away.

I’ve no idea where she is. God knows what she’s up to.

“I’m watching the tennis, who do you think put the telly on?!”

Right.

drinking life

I went and had a coffee with Tramgirl this morning. In a matter of an hour she had three long blacks.

“What’s with all the coffee?”

Tramgirl raised her head with bug eyes and proclaimed.

Sometimes my friend, pushing yourself beyond what you think you know is all there is!

“Ok” I said as I attempted to hush her.

You may see that I drink coffee.

“Yep” (here we go)

I drink not coffee. I drink life!

Tramgirl dressed in her Japanese kimono sprung up and said.

LETS ALL DRINK COFFEE!

And then she skipped to the beach.

A glance

All from a glance.

Tramgirl has a crush. She hasn't had one for sometime.

I keep telling her to keep a lid on it.

But Tramgirl ain't that kind of girl, when she feels it she works it.
So I sat with Tramgirl as she wrote a letter to her crush.

It was the most beautiful thing I'd read.

“Will you send it?” I ask her.

Tramgirl picked up her letter and rubbed it on her tummy and said.

I don't need to.

“Why?”

They know.

“How do you know?”

Tramgirl leant forward and whispered.

I felt it.

On saying that she ripped up the letter and put it in the compost and quickly went to her room.

She's still in there.

32 stories

Tramgirl didn’t get 32 stories for Christmas she got it for her bday. Spot on. It was her bday yesterday. She had a swell day.
She’s been watching MADMEN, a kick ass TV show.

Tramgirl got a bunch of presents. She struggles receiving. All she wants to do is sit in silence for weeks and watch her breath. Yesterday she really began to let it in and she was filled to the brim with love.
Why?
‘Cause she saw the joy it brought to those who gave to her.
Receiving is an art.