Sitting at this table
drinking this beer
writing on this paper
using this pen
smoking these cigarettes
eating these chips
looking at this ashtray
counting these coins
holding on to this line
taking in this air
listening to this music
washing these dishes
dancing on these floors
waking up in this bed
typing these words
moving this head
thinking these thoughts
saying these things
waiting for these moments
having it easy
having it all.

song.



Hello. My name is Derron.
This is the Northern Line to Edgware.
The first stop is Elephant & Castle.
This is my first day.

Hello, my name is Derron. I welcome you on board of this Northern Line.
This train goes to Edgware.
The next stop is Borough.
Enjoy the ride.

Hello, my name is Derron. I hope y’all are well.
This my first day on this Northern train.
The next stop is London Bridge.
Transfer here for the Waterloo & City Line towards Stratford or Stanmore.
Ladies: you can also get off here to buy some nice jewelry in Bermondsey shopping Street.

Hello, I’m Derron.
This train goes to Edgware.
This is my first day.
We’re approaching Bank station.
All ladies who got up with a bad temper: leave the train here to relax your body a bit in the sun. It’s nice out there today. Stretch your limbs on Throgmorton Avenue. And don’t forget to get a chocolate-cinnamon frappuccino at Banky’s. They make tasty ones.
Stand clear of the closing doors.

Hello. Derron here on his first day on this Northern Line heading north.
I hope you are all having a pleasant ride on this smooth tube. And to all new female passengers: a very warm welcome. Don’t forget to put a shiny smile on your shiny face.
The next stop is Moorgate.
This is gonna be a great day. This ís a great day.

Hello, this is Derron on his first day as your traveling host on board of this black line towards Edgware.
The next stop is Old Street.
Put your sunglasses on and have your lip-gloss ready, if you’re getting off here.
Lads, allow the ladies to exit first please.

Hello, Derron once again.
The next stop is Angel.
I am your traveling ghost today, escorting you through this tunnel of hope.
Imagine that you’re above ground for a while. Whitechapel Road. Chilling while strolling. Strolling while chilling. Not having to go to work or nothing. Just relaxing your body in the sun. Easing back on a bench, closing your eyes. Maybe some strong train hands that caress your shoulders, your neck.
Can you imagine that?
Stand clear of the closing doors please.

Hello new travelers aboard.
Welcome to Derron’s train heading north through this city of angels.
The next stop might be yours, but it might just as well be mine.
You can transfer here on almost any other underground line, but why not stay with Derron a little longer?
How is all you ladies doing today?
Enjoying the ride?
Daydreaming just like me?
This is only my first day, so I don’t know you very well. And you don’t know me.
But wouldn’t it be great to spend some time in one of this city’s splendid parks together?
By the way, tonight my brother Sel is throwing an exquisite little party at 254 Oak Street.
All you ladies: come around. It’s gonna be juicy. So dress up nice and get your asses over there.
This is King’s Cross station. Doors opening at your left.



We are fucked.
We are a generation of fucked up people.
We, the young
the misfits
the retarded
can’t get it through.
Can’t live the life we are supposed to.

We try.
We cling together.
We look up and down.
Here and there.
Take this road and that road.
But we never really get there.
We never make the point.
We never score.

And it’s not that we don’t want to.
We do.
We have an image of how it is supposed to be.
But it’s not over there. It’s not in front of us. It’s not in front of you.
It’s in the back of our minds.
On our internal desktops.
In our little diaries.
In between the celluloid of our negatives.

We sketch the life we dream of until our dreams become sketches of our lives.

We go.
We no go.

We have no financial crisis simply because we have no finance.

Are we abnormal?
Are we really that different?
What is difference?

Is there such a thing as being normal?

So why ask of me what even you can’t portray?

I will tell you this:

You can go and fuck yourself.

If you can’t help me you can’t help you.