Blog

The waves are suddenly high tonight, rolling in at my feet by my little shack by the fisherman’s colony at the far end of Copacabana. There’s no moon now at midnight and it’s like I blinked and missed this month’s moon over the last couple of weeks- I can hardly believe it’s already two weeks gone by now since I finished writing Narcisa, after months holed up in a cold Hollywood Babylon winter bubble of isolation and reptilian solitude before coming back home to Brazil.

Two weeks already gone by in a surreal blur of fevered fucking and fighting, two weeks since getting off a red eye flight from Panama City to find Narcisa holed up in some dump in São Paulo waiting like a freeze frame movie monster in suspended animation, waiting like a sea monkey for me to come and pour water on her and bring her back to life.She didn’t die or last long as a born-again Christian either, thank God.She simply went into freeze-dried hibernation for a few weeks since squeezing out a bathroom window in the middle of the night before trudging for miles through the jungle to the highway, hitchiking south to São Paulo in her great escape from the bizarre sinister Jesus camp where she’d spent months giving the crack monster a well-needed rest before getting ready to unleash unholy retribution on the world again.I dutifully got off the plane in São Paulo to bail her out of her plight and the first thing she wanted was to jump right back into our old pathological sicko routine, as if six months seperation and the Jesus camp holy rolling bible banging had never taken place, as if I hadn’t just written her life story, exposing our common insanity for the whole fucking world to see…Fuck me!I tried to show her the “instant underground classic” I’d just written about her and her eyes just fell right on a page where it said, “sex and drugs - smoke smoke smoke fuck fuck fuck” and she said that’s exactly what she wanted to do and nothing else “right now, Cigano, go go go!”And so, after months of stifling abstinence for each of us from our drug of choice or lack of power to choose otherwise, we jumped right in and did exactly that. After a few rounds, and being jet-lagged and bordering on total mental collapse and exhaustion after a marathon four month, fifteen hour a day writing lockdown, I quickly fell into a comatose stupor and when I awoke the next day, the little hotel room had been converted into an ashtray, just like old times- unbelievable! And she was huddled in a corner with a case of paranoid jitters, swearing she never wanted to smoke crack again - I think she really meant it too at the time….So we went straight back to Rio, where by the time I settled back into my little apartment in Catete near downtown, I was stricken with a dangerously high fever….After a few days spent shivering in bed while she sat glued to the chattering television, eating chocolate and cold pizza, I wasn’t getting better, having to get up from my foggy stupor to fuck her every few hours. I finally crawled to the hospital, more dead than alive, where the doctor told me I had a severe case of bronchitis that through total exhaustion had developed into pneumonia and that I was going down down down if I didn’t find a way to get some rest soon.

Of course I tried to make Narcisa understand and of course she wanted no part of letting me get any rest… It all came to a head when I got back from the hospital soaked to the bone from a tropical downpour and hallucinating at the end of a dizzy motorcycle ride where I’d barely made it home alive and I told her she needed to leave me alone for a couple of days.And, like a vampire seeing her energy source dry up, she went instant psychobabble on me and cold cocked me with a coke bottle, sending me right back to the hospital for 5 stitches above my left eyebrow. The doctor who’d just told me to get some rest just shook his head. I guess he’d seen it all before!Narcisa, true to form, didn’t neglect to call my cell phone collect while I was getting my face stitched up to explain to me how it had all been my fault. After thanking her for that crucial bit of information, I told her it might be a good idea if she stayed away from me for awhile.God forgive me, I lied to her and told her the cops were looking for her for her savage assault on my face.Thank God she fell for the ruse, actually laying low for a few days, only calling me collect from time to time to complain that it wasn’t fair. When I could finally get a word in, I told her she should thank her lucky stars that it wasn’t fair, because if life was ‘fair’, she’d most likely be eyeball-deep in her own shit and ugly karma for her countless heinous misdeeds and crimes against humanity over the years.I don’t think she quite got that, and I seriously doubt she ever will. That’s Narcisa, God love her…A friend of mine who happens to be a witch doctor came to visit from Buenos Aires during the time I was holed up recovering and informed me that Narcisa is an energenitic parasite, a vampire who lives and thrives off my life force, and that she was slowly sucking me dry of my vital energy. He didn’t have much trouble convincing me of it since I still had a terribly high fever and could hardly walk across my little apartment to go to the bathroom and had lost ten pounds in as many days. So I managed to dodge her for a few more days, holing up at my rich friend Tonico’s mansion in the hills, during which time Narcisa turned a few tricks and made due without me, biding her time and waiting for me to recover enough for her to get her fangs back in my jugular.Meanwhile I’m getting emails from friends and ex-girlfriends and ex-wives and lovers all over the world telling me I’m the worlds biggest chump and asshole for putting myself in this shitty sewer of moral degradation. Maybe I am. But I just don’t seem to be able to shake her loose for more than a few days. I guess this is what you call an “unhealthy relationship” and now I’m back in it up to the top of my dick-shaft.Today, after two days absence, she showed up filthy, sleepless, grey, demented and dissheveled, begging me to let her in to take a shower and change clothes. What a sight- I had no choice but to let her in. Afterwards she passed out naked on my sofa.After really trying to ignore her for half an hour, finally my dick pointed me right down the road to Hell again and I had my way with her sleeping carcass three times while she snored as peacefully as a sedated maniac. Then I too passed out beside her, napping away the sunny afternoon.When she finally woke beside me at sundown, like Nosferatu crawling out of a coffin, she expertly calculated and extorted exactly the market rate price of three fucks from me!How did she know? She’d been sleeping soundly the whole time! It’s like her pussy has a built in calculator now, or a fuckometer or something! I gladly payed up in a mix of confused admiration and relief to be rid of her again for a few more hours, but I know shell be back soon enough!I just went out and got some dinner and it was good, beans and rice and spicy meat, just what the doctor ordered. Now I’m sitting by the crashing waves here in my little open-air office at the far end of Copacabana waiting for the phone to ring again and I look up and just as I notice it’s after midnight, I see the waning moon peeping over the horizon across the bay over Niteroi.Somehow it’s comforting to know I didn’t miss it completely this month, and I vaguely wonder how I’m gonna explain all this to Lydia Lunch. Shit…Xx JS Copyright Jonathan Shaw 2008. All Rights Reserved.NOTIFIÇAO: Os eventos neste site são contos de ficção - registrados na Biblioteca Nacional com todos os direitos autorais revertidos ao autor, Jonathan Shaw. Os personagens mencionados são interamente ficticios. Certos eventos, personagens, lugares e relatos foram baseados em fatos reais, porém qualquer semelhança a qualquer pessoa vivo ou morta se trata de pura coincidência.As vários fotografias apresentadas se encontram com o rosto distorcido para preservar o anonimato das modelos que representam personagens fictícios.