Don't Hold The Wall

It was a rainy night. A rainy Friday night. And as usual I met with my friends. Out for beer we went. I have never cared too much for the kind of place I go as long as the company brings something that loneliness cannot just give you. A good company is a good company in heaven and in hell.

It was 8 in the night. I was ready for drinking the night away. I was ready to create new moments and recall old stories. I was ready and so were all of my friends.

We met under the clock, near the tram stop. Quick smoked our cigarettes and teased each other in our own very sarcastic ways. Marketa had a bottle of white wine with her. She offered us to sip on it while we walked towards the stop. I took several hits despite the fact of having a strange dislike for white wine. It was 2009 and some of us talked about the summer hits. The new, the good and the bad.

Music talks were great when Marketa was around. She loved the Killers. In fact she loved a song by The Killers. I liked the band so we often played them on the jukebox. She also liked Oasis. Not just one song, but all of them. Probably the biggest fan of Oasis that I had ever met.

We were about 15 people. A cluster of eagerness and fading youth heading to a new place. As long as they had a jukebox and good beer the night would unroll nicely and easily.

We continued to drink from Marketa's sweet little bottle of wine while we were on the tram. And soon we were there. Magda and Erik rushed towards the door and we followed.

We entered a placed called The Cop Bar. I can assure you that all I was expecting was a place full of barflies and lowlife cops and maybe a couple of toothless hookers, but to my surprise and everyone else's the crowd was somewhat similar to us.

One beer, shouted Marketa.

One for me, said Erik.

I want a glass of wine, said Magda.

The rest of us ordered beer, like the good guys we were. The night had officially begun.

As we drank beer, shots and wine, Marketa would stand up, walk to the jukebox and insert a coin to continue playing her favorite Oasis song. It was about 10 pm and the I had begun feeling the booze in my system. I wanted to pee. So I excused myself and headed to the toilets of The Cop Bar. The toilet was tiny. It consisted of a sink, a urinal and a toilet seat. The urinal was being pissed on by some guy who in order to keep balance had leaned against his arm which was resting on the wall.

I then walked towards the toilet only to hear a warning from the pissing guy next to me.

I hate pissing in the urinal, he said

Hmmm right, I sighed

I said I hate pissing in the urinal, he mumbled again, they make them wrong and when I pee, my shoes get splashed with piss.

That is why you are leaning over the wall?, I asked 

Nah, I am drunk and I pissed all over my pants, he said

Oh, well, you can always tell them you were washing your hands and the water pressure was to much that you got all wet.

That's a good one, I will use it next time, the guy zipped up and left the room.

Poor guy, I thought, he was too drunk that he pissed himself. I have to ask the guys if they have ever pissed themselves. I laughed inside silently. I shook my cock. Concealed it inside my boxers and zipped up. I had to wash my hands, not like that guy before me, what a dirty dude. I stood in front of the sink, I opened the faucet and the water came out stronger than I had thought splashing all over my pants. Yes, now it looked like I had pissed my pants, just like the other dude had. Karma works in mysterious ways, I thought.

Coldwell

30.10.2015

.

My First Night In Toronto

I woke up. Face pressed against the white tiles of a Torontonian restroom. My head hurt like a motherfucker. All I could move where my eyelids and my eyeballs. My breathing was out of sync with my heart beat.

Fuck, I thought, where am I?

"Won't someone listen

Nobody gets in

My body's a temple

But nothing is simple

Silence is golden

I have been broken

Something was stolen

Safe in my own skin"

Silence is Golden by Garbage echoed in my head, I had been in the Government. Everything was coming back.

Vodka and Orange Juice. Yeah I had been drinking that all night, that was for sure. I could smell it on me. It was clear now that I had too much to drink and I was now paying for all my sins.

The sun shone through the windows. It must have been around 10 am. 

I could smell puke. Yes, it was puke. A mix of hot dogs, vodka, orange juice and cigarettes. I focused my sight on the floor. I wanted to see why my faced was being pressed against my own will. Fucking gravity. I hated gravity so much right now.

I had been standing by the bar of the famous club in Toronto when tons of people began chatting me up, Soon, the rounds of Sex on the Beach had become more than plenty. And I had to escape somewhere less crowded. 

I soon felt something fantastic that can only be understood if you have ever done it. The sun on my skin. I gathered all my strength and turned around. Moving my face out of the puddle of puke was something I should have done earlier. However, the rays of sun light felt so good on my naked body.

Wait, I was naked. How did that come to happen? I wondered.

I was resting on my back. Soon the urge to piss came along. I didn't know where I was and the alcohol in my system wanted out.

I let it all out. And with a sigh came a bang on the toilet's door. 

Hey, you have to wake up, I need to take a dump so badly.

The voice on the other side commanded me to vacate this room and let life go on. But, how could I when I was pissing all over the place.

Hrms Coldwell

24.10.2014

The Nobodies

I had a friend and he always liked to copy everyone. Big watches and leather. Denim jackets and palladium shoes. Camel smokes and heavy metal. He always liked what he did. 

Sad or happy, he was there. Always copying our modus vivendi. Because he could. Because we let him. Because it was in. Because there was no turning back.

"The toys all smell like children

And scab-knees will obey

I'll have to kneel on broomsticks

Just to make it go away"

Marilyn Manson sang privately in my bedroom parties. Our friend always mimicked us no mattter what he thought of us. No matter what we thought of him.

A guitar solo. A poem. A tear. He always did the same. We were one. We were one big mess. Same colors. Same shadows. My walls were red. But we could spot him in the dark.

"You were my mechanical bride 

You were phenobarbidoll 

A manniqueen of depression 

With the face of a dead star 

And I was a hand grenade 

That never stopped exploding 

You were automatic and as hollow as the "o" in god"

Manson kept singing. Our friend went to the toilet. We waited. He came back. 

"How was it?", I asked

"Relieving", he fired back

"What do you mean?" I continued

"The darkness left my body", he said.

Hrms Coldwell

18.8.2014

Shit Happens

The night seemed to last forever. And there I was. The O2 Arena was full of the most bizarre people I had ever seen. All gathered there to dance to the beats of Paul Van Dyk. It was not a place I would have chosen to be that night or any other night. In fact, I never thought I would ever pay to attend such a concert. I was more of a rock music type. Beer, smokes and at least 3 power-chord songs decorated with spit and vomit would make my day.

But no, I was at an Electronic concert. I was an alien to the whole subculture. People there didn't look normal. What was normal anyway?. I must admit that some of the attendees had a good taste for looking somewhat off. They all looked like the cool kids in my high school thought they looked like, even though they never quite did.

The place was huge and it was full of people, mostly wearing white clothes with a touch of darker colors giving them a slick accent that in the dark of the night certainly seemed attractive to the eye. They were practitioners of the Techno lifestyle deception. Mystifying their flaws under million lights shining the darkness away for short whiles. Covering up their scars and empty carcass like bodies with make up and expensive looking garments. 

There was something odd to this crowd. It was not the kind of music they adored. The music was ok. There was something wrong and obscure. I couldn't figure it out. So I moved to the bar, located at the side of the dance floor. Surprisingly enough, getting booze was easier than I had expected. People were everywhere, but the bar was not on their map.

"One beer", I said.

"One hundred crowns please", replied a lady with pink hair. 

One hundred crowns, for a beer, "that's fucking expensive", I said to myself. I took my wallet out of my green converse bag and reached for a 200kc bank note. I paid and grabbed my plastic cup with beer inside and I walked back to my spot near the stage.

Again, it was quite easy to move back and forth from my place by the stage to the bar and back again. This was something new to me. There was no mosh pit and people pushing their sweaty bodies against mine at all time just to be closer to the stage to catch a glimpse of their favorite rock stars.

People were everywhere, but it seemed that they had a designated spot to dance freely with no human touch to bother them. Without mixing the salty sweat of the ones around them. For God's sake!, not even spit was being projected out from their mouths. It was organized chaos. And they all looked perfectly in their white pants and white tank tops.

I kept on repeating my routine of going to the bar and getting beer with no effort. "It is great", I thought. The music continued and the people never stopped dancing. My feet hurt. The show was boring. Instead I decided to watch the people around me and try to learn some new steps for the next time I had to dance. They danced in ways I had never seen people from this country dance like. There was something totally wrong about the whole thing.

After 4 beers I decided to hit the toilets. 

That was a journey. Unlike going to the bar for beer refills.

It was like everyone had to go to piss at the same time. "Maybe there is free goodies", I thought. After having pushed my way through I stepped inside one of the many men's rooms.

There were no free goodies. In fact inside the party had taken a different turn. And then, only then, all my suspicions came to an end. 

There were about 10 urinals lined up on the left across from the toilet cabins. There were 5 sinks and a huge empty white hall. All the urinals were taken. All the doors to the cabins were locked. I had to wait in a well organized queue. Behind me, still queuing, the guys danced to their favorite tunes. At the sinks, the guys danced as they washed their hands. And at the urinals, the guys decided to stop dancing and concentrate on something which seemed to be the cause of this party being different.

"Hey, do you have some cocaine?", asked the guy behind me

"Hmmm, no I don't sorry", replied politely

"What about some speed?", he went on

"I am out of speed", I said, trying to fit in

"Anything to smoke?" he inquired

"Just cigarettes"

"Can I have one?", I nodded and gave him one. I took my lighter out and lit a small greenish flame. He lowered his head and lit his cigarette.

"Thanks", he said while exhaling a large cloud of carbon monoxide.

"Yeah, sure", I said and turned around trying to find an empty spot for my urine. 

"Hey, care for some weed?", he asked

"Hmmm, yeah why not" I fired back, "do you have any?"

"No, I don't, but my friend has some good shit"

"Well, let me pee and I'll meet you outside"

"OK"

Some dude finished doing business with the urinal and walked back to the concert hall. It was my turn to finally piss the shit out of that urinal. 

So, I unzipped my pants and took my penis out. Oh it was good, too much beer had to be drained from my system. Then, I heard a loud moan. It was the guy taking a leak right next to me, on my left side. I couldn't avoid turning my head and looking at him. With his right hand he was rubbing something on his gums, and with his left hand he was holding a large cock that was far from passing unnoticed, even if you are one of those men who do not like to look at other men's tools at the toilets. 

"Damn", I thought, "is it hard or is it just a big chunk of manhood he is holding out there?". He went on moaning. His breath became harder and shorter as if he felt an orgasm coming. I directed my sight back on my business. Then I turned my head to the right, and saw that the guy next to me was also looking at Moaner, and then at his cock. And then I saw on his face the same expression I thought I had made when I saw that tremendous dick.

The guy on my right quickly finished pissing. Moaner continued to moan."He must be having a pig orgasm", I thought. Immediately, the urinal on my right was being used, or abused again. And I continued to urinate. 

Soon I heard a sound similar to what tic tacs make when you take them and place them on the palm of your hand. Everyone in that place was doing drugs. Moaner seemed to have finished as the moaning had stopped. His place filled up almost immediately. I was nearly done too. So I shook my dick, concealed it back into its place and headed to the sinks.

It was then when I heard it. An angry woman shouted: "Fuck you, I told you not to come inside", I halted as the door from one cabin opened and reveled a young woman in her 20s storming out with her face smeared with different fluids and colors. The guy sat on the toilet with his pants down and a face full of disappointment.

"These people certainly know how to party like rock stars", I said to myself. "Will I end up doing something similar if I smoke that joint?". I washed my hands and left to get myself a nice cold beer and continue to enjoy the decadent party that still had lots to offer.

Coldwell

5.2.13