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

.

I'm Lost Without You

"And the world spins by 

With everybody moaning 

Pissing, bitching and everyone is shitting 

On their friends 

On their love 

On their oaths 

On their honor 

On their graves 

On their mouths 

And their words say nothing"

Shirley Manson sang while I silently observed the rest of the people sitting round me. 

Yes, they knew I was there, yet nobody really cared and I took advantage of my time there to space off. I had had a tough week but nobody cared. They all were immersed into what they thought was better, more interesting, more alive. I continued to mend the holes in my mind after a hectic week in real life.

"I'm not like them

But I can pretend

The sun is gone

But I have a light

The day is done

But I'm having fun

I think I'm dumb

Maybe just happy"

I never really liked Kurt, but on that day I had to fully agree with him and his dull rhymes and lullabies. I had to get out of there and get fucking drunk. I needed to do something. And I needed to do it fast.

The dark night outside called me. I walked across the main square. I walked and dreamed I was happy. I dreamed I was real. I had been drinking a lot. I was fucking drunk. I took my phone out and began recording what I would be later called as the Night Journey.

All I wanted was to get away from this all. I wanted to disappear. And I did. And as I walked towards home, I got a call.

My phone began ringing. I picked up. 

Hey, how's it going. The voice said

It's going well, I just need to pee

Sure, do your thing, the voice replied

Yes, I will pee and I will go home

Sure, whatever you need to do, please do

Well, it doesn't matter, I can pee and do whatever I want

Yes, you can

You cannot tell me what to do, I fired back

Of course not, the voice said

All I want is to pee and go home

Of course

And I don't want to know who you are, I said in a serious way

Well that is already top late

We are home, the voice said.

Hrms Coldwell

9.10.2015

.

Pissing

It was Friday afternoon. The typical end-of-the-week time when people get ready to kill the stress and drown the voids in their soul with cheap tequila and BMW shots. Yes, another Friday afternoon to kill the time away and feel like we have become more than what our fathers said we would.

A day in which who you have grown to become doesn't really matter. As you carefully select the crowd you want to hang out with and the place that will serve as a background to your faceless selfies and to your faceless selves.

Goddamned Fridays, I hated them. I hated my friends. They lied, The were fake. But on Fridays I am ready to just get wasted. So I don't really care who I am with. 

I am the one who puts together the parties. The one who organizes the binge. The one who calls and twits everyone not to miss the drowning.

The drowning, that's what I call our Fridays together. The drowning has been happening since I arrived in this city. Almost 9 years ago. That's quite a lot of drowning and pretend. But it's Friday and no one cares. 

I am the master DJ, the king of the booze and the prince of self mutilation and black humor jokes. Like a Hollywood voice over, I always enjoyed saying what the others were thinking. Until last Friday, when I discovered one of them had been pretending to be my friend just to get close to me.

Just to see if my good life could rub off on her.

It felt like a knife carving its way into my heart. Like a check with insufficient funds. It hurt a lot.

"Hey",out of nowhere she said to me, "wanna go somewhere more private?", she asked.

"Sure", I replied, "I just need to go to the men's room. You piss the shit out of me."

Dick Pound

15.5.2015

Golden Rain!

I followed my friends. My newly sworn friends.

Into the dark we went. They had promised me bitches and lots of alcohol. Sex, drugs and good music.

White candles burnt everywhere. It smelled like a church. I wasn't sure where I was. Not a church I hoped. All I wanted was to get my rocks off and enjoy this Christmas away from home. I wanted to remember my first time away in a different kind of way.

The music rumbled away from us in such a strange way. We were following a party that was going away. Dying Away.

My phone began ringing, Someone was calling me. My ring tone was "La Mantra Mori" by Ghost. The song gave our journey a special feeling and it blended with our pace perfectly, so I did not pick up. 

"We Focus On Your Death

We Focus On Your Death

You Share Not The Blood of Our-our-ours

Thus We Focus On Your Death"

Warm and velvety were the walls that chocked us while we walked. 

The calling on my cellphone died away eventually, And the sense of belonging dissipated too. We drank and smoke. People around seemed happy. They seemed as if they were getting ready for a massive party.

We were too dumb to run. To dead to die. And as they tied me up to a stake, I sighed.

This was never my world, I thought. As they cut my clothes open. This is it, I said to my self.

I am broken and bleeding.

And then my blood dripped down and splashed frenetically on the stone floor. I pissed  myself,

A last, a moment of joy before dying, I Thought.

Dick Pound

26.12.2014

,

If I Could, I Would Hover While He's Making Love To You

I always had a handsome and very well-endowed cock, In Junior High, whenever us boys had our wielding workshop hour, and the ranging hormones would make the teen aged guys show off their cocks, and their masturbation techniques, I was king.

I do not know if it was genetics. I was taller than my father. I had relatively smaller feet than the rest. But my cock was huge and porn-like shaped. They all admired it. But to me, it was a big problem, all puns intended. To fit in the skinny jeans that were in at the time made it impossible for me to sit normally. But I indeed liked the bulge in my crotch. Nicely shaped and apparently, both boys and girls enjoying looking at it.

I had never had any problem with my penis. On the contrary, it had always been an advantage all throughout my life. Until the day I went to visit my best friend in Berlin.

I arrived in Berlin. It was my first time in Europe. I had some friends in the capital of Germany and I was in town for a few days visiting them. 

I felt sexy in Berlin. I thought I fit right in. The streets and buildings were all very different. The people weren't as I had always imagined Germans. They were relaxed and somewhat friendly. The autumn leaves were everywhere on the ground padding my every step towards sex, drugs and rock music.

I lit a blue camel up and puffed while I headed down Eisenbahnstraße.

I entered the Black Bar. The only thing that wasn't black were the golden bird cages decorating the tables. Rammstein echoed in the blackness if this place.

"Der Jüngling steigt den Berg mit Qual

Die Aussicht ist ihm sehr egal

Hat das Röslein nur im Sinn

Bringt es seiner Liebsten hin"

My friends were sitting at the very back of the bar. They drank beer and smoked the same brand of cigarettes like me. No wonder why I had chosen them to be my friends. They had been there in my darkest hours. And they had always liked me and I think they also liked to secretly look at my bulge. I didn't mind.

We drank and caught up with our lives after years of not having seen each other. We drank beer and 

Jägermeister chasers. We drank White Russians and talked about how different our lives had become. You see, after High School, the world changes your. You do things that set you apart from the rest and sometimes you cannot related to the people anymore. But not us. We talked about fucking, drinking and drugs,

We were a successful bunch that distance could not keep apart. 

We talked about going to a sex club after midnight. We talked about a bar that has a needle dispenser for junkies. And we smoked weed.

I asked my friends about the local costumes and about the food. Sausages and Sour Kraut. Beer and Berlin. Too much drinking had led me to have a full bladder ready to leave my body.

So I headed to the men's room. To my surprise, there was only one bathroom. 

A unisex bathroom, that's cool, I thought.

The walls were black, the sink was black and even the toilet was black. But there was no urinal.

So I unzipped my jeans and walked towards the toilet seat only to find a sign. There were no words written, only a stick man pissing standing up crossed out. 

When in Rome, do as the Romans do, I thought. So I sat and tried to piss sitting down.

What an ordeal. My cock, being porn-like big did not fit inside the toilet with me sitting down.

I thought of how horrible it would be for me to catch some disease in my cock for having touched the bowl with my dick.

Fuck, I said.

I stood up and pissed standing.

What was a guy with a big cock like me supposed to do while taking a leak in a Berlin toilet? 

Hrms Etc

30.11.2014

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

I will destroy you

I headed to the toilet
I took my penis out
I began pissing
The music outside played:

"I was born into this

Everything turns to shit

The boy that you loved is the man that you fear

Peel off all those eyes and crawl into the dark,

You've poisoned all of your children to camouflage your scars

Pray unto the splinters, pray unto your fear

Pray your life was just a dream

The cut that never heals

Pray now baby, pray your life was just a dream

The world in my hands, there's no one left to hear you scream

There's no one left for you"

I remembered all my friends and hoes

I remembered all my friends and enemies

I liked pissing

I liked getting rid of all my father's scars
I prayed my life was just a dream
The cut that never heals
The smile that nonone ever sees

Hrms Coldwell

24.08.14