I've seen the animal in man. That beast that pisses in sinks, shits in plastic bags, has to soak and cut and prise the socks from off its feet, has become indifferent to the stench of its own arsehole, lays around wrapped up in filthy blankets snarling at life and rotting away by the pound. I've watched men regress into neo-savages, committing murder, rape and incest with no strategic end in mind. I've seen our species fight and bite and rip and fuck one another to pieces. I've watched the unloved become the unloving and the loveless become the lawless. I've seen beautiful people destroyed by the high cost of living, selling their bodies and organs for a moments respite from the daily grind. I've known streets of endless misery, city-sized slums full of the walking wounded, tower blocks used as human rubbish dumps: 300 ft of isolation and depression, whole families staring out and down, wondering what mark they'd leave if they hit the floor from there. 

With fresh young eyes I watched life pass by, a certain freakshow interspersed with occasional views of purported normality. I stared lost at bare feet as pre-teen brother and sister put on peep sex-shows for an assortment of waifs and strays, dreamed nightmares over the amphibious leers and panting tongues visible through the gap in the door. I've seen women beaten senseless, dragged around by the hair, forced to lick the kitchen floor, locked in cupboards with broken noses, doused in petrol and set alight. I've seen men kicked half to death, hit with bricks, bars and mallets, faces and wrists slashed open, a false eye staring at me from the bottom of a glass of beer. In the hush of night I've watchd an old dreadlocked cancer patient hunting around in the dark for soiled panties to sniff, his emaciated thighs like violin bows, the silhouette of his long lank penis and swinging balls. I've seen that same man rot away to nothing in his chair, sat their stuffed full with death one morning while the rest of the house knocked back courage and cured themselves of the shakes. 

In the back-end of nowhere I've known young girls who became mothers without ever having seen a cock. Fathers thrice over who thought the clitoris was a garden plant. I've known company directors escape the boardroom to dress up in nappies and bonnets, lay in a cot, bawling, wriggling their legs and faking innocence. I've seen orgies of pigs: incomprehensible gang-bangs strike up amongst chronic drunks; alcoholic women laying spread-eagled on highstreet benches, masturbating while screaming RAPE! 

On screens, I've seen everything from armpit licking to shit-eating. I've seen Arabic looking girls, dressed in nothing but a hijab, crucified to railings and gagging on twelve inches of white cock with the Stars and Stripes tattooed along the shaft. In retaliation, I've seen fifteen of the dustiest Arabs gang-raping a small town beauty queen, close ups of her tears and suffering as one rams it in her arse without lubricant or warning. I've been sent links to videos of amputees, midgets, mongols and She-males. I've seen horses and pigs being sucked off, and dogs eating pussy. In HD I've seen sheep, cows and chickens get it – living props, perfect for web cams and Shock TV. 

I've seen faceless erections poking through zippers, shoved through holes, men, women and beasts dancing jubilantly around them. I've seen cunts gang-banged out of all recognizable shape, laying spent around rooms, their only use then to help remove nicotine stains from filthy fingers. I've studied necks and faces, stretched taut and deformed during the climax of despicable acts. I've seen my own mother drink and fuck her way through 20 years of grief, falling out of taxis naked and crawling up the front yard with bloodied tits and bruised buttocks. I've made up the numbers in the most squalid dens and witnessed the human animal partake in the most debauched and intangible practices: groups hunched over spoons, each drawing up a measure of life before shuffling back to their individual hells. I've seen families brought up on grease and potatoes and tomato ketchup; parents in competition for Special Offers and fighting over reduced cuts of meat. I've seen teenage rent boys forced to deep throat podgy middle aged men; wrecks of humans crawling around the streets looking for scraps of food; amputees glued to skateboards in a desperate effort to adapt and survive. I've seen people riddled with body fungi and gangrene... abscesses and ulcers the size of tennis balls eating them alive. I've seen people lie, steal and cheat, and try to pass on awful diseases. I've seen junkies with AIDS cuddling up together through dark silent nights, sobbing over regrets and old memories and cancerous lumps and lesions. I've seen men of money turning squalor into a profit; supposedly reputable people crippling his brothers and sisters with financial strongholds, using the most ruthless tactics and schemes to extract from people what they haven't got. I've seen banks play the long-term con, burying people in credit, gambling on them defaulting on loan payments: loans scrupulously worked out so as they'll just about be repaid come the the average age of death. I've seen it all and joined in the feeding frenzy, eating as blindly and as heartily as anyone else. With the rest of the pack I've been left crying and growling at the moon, calling out and cursing unknown enemies. I've drank Starbucks coffee from the same place as you, taken your traces of lipstick off the beaker, and with a swallow of stale caffeine said, “The world is so beautiful now!” 

I've stared into the distance and seen the old infrastructure of nature, the last of the trees and mountains and fields that haven't yet been chopped down, drilled through or ploughed flat. I've seen man visit every remote inch of the planet, map it out in 3d and real time video. I've seen the cheerless kept alive on hope support machines, the downtrodden and completely-fucked-over still with ignorant faith in their fellow beings. I've seen the lowest and most despicable acts from just about everyone. Modern, sophisticated man is nothing more than a successful marketing campaign. Behind the pedicures, enemas, and PH neutral cunt juice is the animal we've tried so hard to tame. If in public we walk on hind legs, in private, we drop to all fours and eat off the floor. And I'm not alone. We all know what our species looks like stripped down, sprawled out naked on the mattress, folds of belly, flabby sex leaking piss and cum and sucking on antacids. That's the horrific reality of it all... the sick dog we've become.
- - -

So Dog We Were... is a new site for my latest series of writings. The content and feel will be very similar to that which is posted here though will not be restricted to any definite themes. The texts will be a melange of non-fiction, fiction and stylistic pieces... some posts simple portraits of people who've passed through my life, others landscapes or still lifes of drunks piled high in city squares. The writings will make up a part of the social texts which so interest me, as surely all my work from here on in will do. Posts will put up only when I feel I have written something worthwhile and never through a sense of obligation. The introduction post is above, and that, and all future texts are dedicated to those who read with beautiful eyes... Until Very Soon, Shane. X 

21 comments :

Absolut Ruiness said...

Wow...i have been blown away with your writing earlier. But this one was the furthest ever that iv gone. I could see my self walking in the waste you described and feeling what you felt. And it wasn't a good feeling. But that wasn't the point i guess. Thanks for making me feel absolutely wretched.

Anna Young said...

Darling,

I hate the fact that you exisit. I hate the fact, that I hate the fact that you exist. I'm green with envy at your talent.

Its as if your fingertips bleed prefect words, and the words flow out in the perfect order, and they clot up after just enough words have been spilled.

Anonymous said...

Really, when you think about it, pissing in a sink is gross enough, especially as most sinks happen to be next to toilets, let alone the rest of the things you describe.

My old landlord once accused me of throwing shit out of the window. I pointed out that the bathroom window happened to overlook the same bit of back yard, but he still wanted to believe it was me!!

Gary Hill said...

Holy shit, you never fall short of the standard you've set, but this piece is particularly strong. And worst of all, probably true. Henry Miller is surely smiling in his grave. He knows exactly what you mean.

dirtycowgirl said...

You are a literary genius, no doubt about it.

And a bit of a dichotomy too - the same man that wrote these words also posted THAT pic on facebook. Hahaha.

Only you could write something so disgusting (and true) with such poetry. I will be following the new site :)

The Pseudo-Impostor said...

Panoramic in scope yet microscopic in detail. Horrifying in content but beautiful in presentation. Your writing is full of sublime contrasts and courageous paradoxes. Mind-blowing. Words can’t touch your words, you fucking genius. Here’s hoping your head doesn’t explode -corrupted love from Russell.

Unknown said...

Aint life grand?

Iknowwhereyou'vebin said...

It doesn't matter that the sink's next to the toilet, or what window's where - not if the WC is chronically blocked with massive opiate turds up to the point where even Dynorod would blanch. ;)

PROTIP: Drink moar water - drink some Epsom salts as well if *really* bad. (ie - you haven't shit for a week)

Just found your blog(s) the other day, and have read them all now. Pls write moar. :)

I like your prose, and that you're 'for real' is beyond question. Get published.

Really funny that you've gone for children's books first - who's to say that you can't be this generation's Enid Bagnold?

Much regards,
L.

PS - IYE, how would you say things stand now re B drought?

Stacy said...

i am extremely happy you and your writing exist...very excited about the new site! XXX

Wildernesschic said...

One word .. Fuckingfantabulous.. you talented bastard :))) xx

Anonymous said...

Kisses.

I'm thankful today that I don't have your magnificent thought processes--it would be too much to bear. I don't need to complicate my life further. I enjoy your words.

Carrion Doll said...

Dear Shane, I have been gone to long. I have checked in every now and then to see how you are and make sure you are still writing. I am excited to see you have added this. I am back to work phone whoring on nights, like I was when I used to read your blog religiously (I think I started reading you in late 08 early 09 but didn't comment much) , so I will be checking in much more often. IDK how you are not published, I really don't. Someone should have scooped you up long ago. I'm sure you don't remember me as you have so many avid readers. But I have been here and I am hooked all over again.

oyzz said...

this piece is just brilliant, i read and just think to myself "damn i wish i had written this, that it was credited to my name" good going mate.. brilliant and crafty poetecism

charlie pie said...

Imagery ur so good at it like i say u paint pictures with words x yeah ive seen a lot of that stuff too guess most people will have. . But no1 could put it down quite like you do:-) u know u could get published if u tried hope u do you deserve to get paid for this stuff :-)

Laura said...

shane, thank you for this piece. i felt that pain with you. i've also known that imense feeling of loneliness and pain. the feeling of not smiling and speaking freely, afraid that someone will discover my secret or just be plain repulsed by my appearance. the feeling of lost innocence and the overwhelming need to escape the pain...everything. you're writing is an amazing gift. thank you for sharing it

Anonymous said...

YOU WATCHED MURDER, RAPE, AND INCEST, cause that's what you said. You watched it. Sick.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Anon, I watched it and i'm proud to have watched it.

I may be sick, but you're an idiot and that's incurable. X

Giorgio Curcetti said...

Brother, I have just discovered your writings and I will say only that they are so close to the truth they make me cry inside. Yet I can't stop reading them. You have the keys. You know. And it must bring you no joy. Not only your descriptive powers are immense, you have given voice to my own inexpressable. Simply magnificent....

Shane Levene said...

Hey Georgio and welcome! X

I think any true artist, no matter in what field or medium, is never joyous about having such keys. These texts are a face-off between me and myself and the life and world I have been born into. There must always be a certain amount of torment in such expression and I certainly wouldn't trust or be drawn to any artist or writer who found a kind of meditation in their work.

Thanks for reading and leave comments at your will... X

Giorgio Curcetti said...

Thanks for the reply, Shane! I had forgotten where I left my comment and I had to sift through tons of replies before finding it, haha! I kept reading you, I have always been into good literature (whatever that is, but you know what I mean), and I can say without fear that you are without the slightest shadow of a doubt one of the very few greats I've ever come across. I am turning other people onto your writings and no one can deny how good you are. I would love love love to see "Memories" turned into a proper book, pages and all, that could be bought in Waterstones. Shit, if I had the money I'd set up a publishing company with the sole purpose of realising your stuff!!! Yeah, the best art is borne out of pain. I agree on everything and I also want to add this: do you remember in medieval times the scholars of the occult arts, chemists and Magi endeavoured to find the Philosophical Stone, a concoction that would turn base metals, impurities and even shit into gold? Well, I think that secret had been cracked since time immemorial by the purveyors of every artistic field: using the pain and the shit happened in life to distil pure artistic gold. I hope you're gonna put something new soon on "Memories". You've left us with the letter to your landlord (from which I am thinking of quoting, nay, lifting excerpts when I am going to leave these shores and the slum I reside in, in a couple of months), an absolute delightful read, and now I'm aching for something new! Hope things are going well over there (well, as well as they could go when dancing the tango with the tanned lady. Tell me about it, haha) and you're managing to keep the head above water. Which is the best one can wish in most circumstances....take care bro!!! And keep up the magnificence!!!

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