Fertiliser

To get in you have to know a code. The code is to know them. Only I don’t know this yet. Don’t know anyone. Not really. Didn’t go to school there. Live miles away.

I have not come on a clear mission. I have been propelled, awkwardly, with several bumpy landings, by a raw hollowness. My previous content is currently unidentifiable but I vaguely recall the taste. It was fresh and thick and crunchy and provided a sufficient amount of energy. Will they serve the filling?

The taxi is driving slowly up a dark back lane. I slide around the back seat. “I’m not leaving you ‘till we find it, love” the driver keeps insisting.

It’s cold and wet but I am certain I’ll be fine. I phone the scribbled number but all I hear are loud beats and someone saying something about a gate. The place is full of gates. Big metal ones, at least five meters high. And brick walls in between them, some higher than the gate, all very daunting. Still, I know it’s fine.

“I think it’s here!” I lie and pay. He answers but I’m already running along the pavement. I find it.

Inside, in front of me, two very similar girls are softly jerking to the music. A group of snake-like humans emerge from behind the doors we are awaiting our turn to enter. Gold and silver and entangled in each other like brambles. Another small group disappears inside. A snake stops for hugs and shirks. It turns out we are waiting for the bathroom. And there are more people inside, sitting in the dry bath and up against the shiny, dirty walls. The toilet bowl is shielded by a dithering curtain. It isn’t hiding anything.

I look around. “You’ll be aright” some long curly lion hair smiles at me. Ah, fuck it. Everyone’s too fucked to care anyway.

The glitz and the glitch and the hop and the hip, there’s a fucking trilby poking me in the face. And your cheeks and your fucking antelope head gear. You’re not fucking bambi.

Ordinarily I prefer to keep myself away. Away from people. Away from relentless bla bla bla. The less chance I have to speak the less likely I am to jinx all the good things almost happening. They’re so close, tip of my bristly tongue.

Too drunk to control my bowels, not drunk enough not to notice. Oh shit. The curtain and the door have forgotten their roles. No one’s muffling the noise. Big crap.

I re-emerge and no one reacts. No one points. No one laughs. No one holds their nose, or discreetly breathes their scarf.

I stand at the mirror to apply my party face; drunkenly exaggerating it all. Pink and orange, flicks and glitter. Clown woman.

Apparently it’s not enough. She starts scribbling on my skin with a stupid black pen because someone once told her it’d be cool to say your job is to paint face. Fuck off. But no. This is her kingdom. I have been marked.

I sit on the edge of that stupid bathtub, talking to one of the similar girls. She looks irritating and strange, compulsive viewing. Turns out that I am not an entertainment facilitation agency and I have to leave the room.

Everything is satisfyingly solid. I am weightless, floating in a fuchsia bubble of softness. My sinuses are engulfed in prickly felt. The vapours scratch my insides, creating tiny wounds in my raw flesh so they can reach me quicker. I have been waiting for this for so long. I want to swim in the violet glow coming from the climbing tropical geraniums. It looks so thick I could mould it into a hanging decoration.

A fuzzy, bearded man is holding my hand and telling me about a party. Another one. Last summer. I’d heard something about it. Was invited to the event.

“That was you? No way!” I am impressed and make vanilla smoke come out of the pink rolling paper.

I’m more impressed at the envelope of crimson engulfing me as I smell the rose-like flower resting on my shoulder. Sharp. The smell is painful. Deliciously, familiarly, knife-like.

He asks me who I'm here with.

“My mate’s mate’s dads a pilot. He flies everywhere free, first class” I say.

He looks at me “What? Why did you ruin it?”

I am confused. “What do you mean?”

“What kind of a story is that?”

“It’s great! He flies everywhere for free! First class! I think it’s really interesting!” my eyes are full of that iridescent glitter. He asks me who I'm here with. I use my one good eye to stare, then kiss him.

The bear man looks at me then sniffs the purple lilies next to him, blooming so much they’re bursting. He pulls them to me. I breathe. I’m elevated. I drift above the big wooden canteen table. Everyone looks soft, ripe, ready. Bright colours and people melt into each other. A floral orgy. I feel safe and awkward. All around me are colours. Millions of blues, yellows, oranges, pinks, reds, whites. And the greens. Oh the greens. There are countless varieties.

Dark and old, prickly, light, delicate and almost translucent.

“Your lips are so beautifully blue” he touches them.

I’d heard about this place.

I’d wanted more.