I know that you blame me. I blame the hippie or monk or whatever he was. The hippie and the cling wrap that is.
It always reminds me of you. Especially the way it clings.
I bet you know what I'm thinking about.
That's right! I'm thinking about a white bull again.
Bloody hippies. Or monks or whatever he was. "All you need to do to calm your mind is not think about a white bull"
Before that moment I am almost sure that I never thought of white bulls. I thought it would be a piece of piss. All I had to do is carry on as normal and I could finally relax. I felt calmer already. I bought him a beer and we talked about philosophy. At least I think we did. The more we talked the more relaxed I felt. So I bought him some more drinks. He said he could tell I was a deep person and a natural philosopher.
I remember feeling even better and buying more drinks. He said, since I seemed to have grasped not thinking about a white bull, I may like to try to learn to fly.
Maybe I was buying him too many drinks and he thought I was rich. I soon put him straight on that one. I also pointed out that the main reason I wasn't thinking about a white bull was because I was so pissed.
Then I told him what a relief it was to not be thinking about the cling wrap,
Come to think of it you're pretty transparent too.
I was slurring my speech and rambling a bit by this time so I'm nt sure if he got the whole story.
The more I tried to explain it, the more he assured me thar he understood.
Despite, or maybe even because of that he offered to tell me how to fly.
Without a plane.
Apparently you just throw yourself at the ground and miss.
You can imagine how much that appealed to me. Me! Who can't do the simplest thing without messing it up.
Surely I could throw myself at the ground and miss!
I've fucked up way simpler things.
I had a go and I almost got it the first time but... and here's the spooky part... just as I was about to miss I thought about a white bull.
I hit the ground hard but I got up, dusted my self off bought another round of beer and psyched myself up for the next attempt.
He tried to talk me out of it.
He said I was lucky to survive the fist time.
He said it was just a mental exercise, that you weren't meant to hurl yourself at the ground.
I thought about what he said and suddenly it made perfect sense.
Here he was dressed like a freak and spouting his buddhist bull shit and he wasn't even game to have a go.
He didn't have the strength of his own convictions.
Not only that but he was jealous. I saw the look on his face just before I hit the tiles.
That must have been what distracted me and made me think of the fucking white bull!
I'll teach this bastard, I thought and I waited till he was distracted and threw myself down again.
YES! I DID IT!
I'm not even bleeding this time. But why am I moving backwards?
Two steroid munching monsters have got me and I'm heading towards the door.
"We warned you once already" one of them said. Or maybe both. I think they were clones Anyhow I don't know whether they were lying. Or it could have been concussion or alcohol, or maybe a combination of both.
I didn't remember being warned and I tried to tell them this as I was propelled backwards down the steps.
I wish I had remembered to miss again but I was disoriented.
That is the last thing I remember till I woke up.
It made a nice change to be thinking about the cling wrap.
I still don't know how you talked me into it.
"Think of it as a metaphor for life" you said. Or some such shit. There we are again. I'm a victim of philosophy.
Or is it metaphysics? Metaphysics, metaphor....
They look the same. More or less. Except for the end bit.
But suddenly I remembered that night.
How calm and relaxed I was. Up to the flying bit anyway. What did I have to think about? That was it! A white bull! No. That wasn't it. I had to not think about the white bull.
ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT FROM THEN ON WAS A WHITE BULL!
I thought i would go mad if it didn't end soon. How could I think of anything else ever again? How did I get into this mess?
At first I blamed the hippie. Or whatever he was.
I suppose I still do. In a way.. But I have to face facts. He was just a conduit.
A distraction from the real problem.
The cling wrap.
THE CLING WRAP!
It suddenly didn't seem so bad. Anything was better than this.
Thats when I called you. I bet you couldn't wait for me to come around. You loved it at first. For quite a while actually. Until I told you about the bull.
I couldn't believe you reacted the way you did. You went crazy. You said I was using you! That is fucking rich coming from you. Me! Using you! Your as bad as the hippie. Or monk. Or whatever he was.
You said I I made you feel dirty!
You are the one who likes to shit themselves while wrapped in cling wrap and here you are!
Stinking of your own shit!
You were always so clingy.
Ringing me all the time. "Let's go camping. Let's go away for the weekend. Come around for dinner"
It was always the same. Out would come the clingwrap.
You were so transparent.
Didn't you carry on if you didn't get your own way! I can hardly count the amount of hotels and motels we have been thrown out of!
All the tents left abandoned forever as we both stormed off in separate directions.
I always made sure I had my own transport after the first time.
"Let's go away on my yacht. We can talk about metaphysics. Or philosophy."
Sailing and philosophy. Or metaphysics. My weakness.
It seemed like a laugh when you first asked me. Almost normal. But we did take a whole lot of acid that night. Any crazy thing seemed normal.
You said you wanted to get in touch with the ocean. That you wanted to be a jelly fish.
The next day you pretended not to remember. So did I. It seemed for the best. Where's the harm?
Then in Egypt you wanted to be a mummy! We were in the hilton for fucks sake.
Of course we were fresh then. Just getting acquainted. Before the shitting started.
I shall never go to the himalayas again.
The word itself should have been a warning.
I thought my phone was broken when you never rang for 5 days.
YOU ALWAYS RANG.
That's why I answered straight away. I thought my phone had been broken.
Imagine my surprise when all you wanted to do was yell at me because of the white bull.
As if I'd thought of anything else! You blamed me, I blamed the hippy.
You weren't even interested in me. Didn't even mention the cling wrap or " Clingfilm" as you yanks say.
All you did was berate me about the bull.
Well I'm still thinking about it and I know you are because you write every other day.
STOP REPLYING TO MY LETTERS!
Or we will never be able to think of anything else.
I hardly ever think of YOU!
You were always so clingy and transparent.
I've given up on the hope of learning to fly.
AND I WAS SO CLOSE!
And it's all your fault. Yours and the hippie or monk or whatever he was.
All I ever think about is the bull.
Although I can't quite remember how long he has been wrapped in clingfilm.
Damn you Roy Orbison