-It’s getting hard
-I know I can see it
-I didn’t mean that
-Well it is, I can see it sticking out your pants. Look it’s pointing up to the right
-Please. I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about love
-Ok, so you’re talking about love but you’re pointing the other way
-Stop being profound
-It wasn’t found, look at it, it’s sticking right out of your pants
-I didn’t say found, I said profound. And stop looking at it. I want you to concentrate
-What do you mean… like orange juice concentrate?
-I don’t even know why I’m talking to you, and what do you mean pointing the other way? When you love you love equally. Love and hate are not equal measurements
-I know, I can’t do maths either
-I confuse need with desire. I can add that much. I think that’s one minus one. I met a man today with three hairs on his chest
-That’s adding
-He told me I should stick my tongue out like this! Oi, look at me, like this!!!!!!!!!
-I was looking. Did you?
-Of course, I grew up in New Zealand
-Then he told me taught me a method to slowly hyperventilate
-Why would he do that?
-I don’t know; he shone like an idiot savant. He could’ve been the Patron Saint of Patronising
-Who, Peter Paint Fraternising?
-I’m sorry, I can’t hear you properly; did you say he was the Patron Paint of Prophylactic?
-All I was saying is that it’s getting hard to meet her
-Hard how, without a Prophylactic? I can give you some. I’ve got a whole case at home. I’ve got one that’s covered in bumps. Patronising bumps
-I told you I wasn’t talking about that. I was saying that I don’t seem to be able to find love anymore. I used to be surrounded by it
-I’m not feeling sorry for you
-Neither am I. I’m just saying I live in Bondi and usually confuse love with lust. Lust bewitches me daily
-Yeah I liked that show. That was the one with the hot blonde witch and the impotent vice president
-Sorry I didn’t mean bewitches me, I meant beguiles me
-And why can’t you speed-dial?
-I didn’t say I speed-dial I said beguile. And before you ask again it’s because I’m stuck in a maze. I have a compass but it’s broken. I can’t see the way. I can’t see my way through it. It’s hard you know. With all the obstacles
-I already know it’s hard. I told you I see it. What obstacles are you talking about? Like the Krypton Factor?
-I try and smile through the obstacles and they see me smile. They see me smile so they smile but they can’t see behind my smile. I am gauging. I am measuring and I fall in love at least three times a day
-You told me you confused love with lust
-I know but how do you say lusts?
-Well I’m going to just try to not think about it
-And how will you do that?
-Why don’t I get a set of blinkers like a horse wears?
-That’s actually a good idea. Then you could ignore everyone like you want to
-I wish I could do that. I get them all. I live in Bondi. I get people wanting to heal me coming up all the time. One day a woman walked up wearing a black bikini. Her right boob was out. I couldn’t stop staring at it. It was exposed. She had a big boob and a big stiff nipple…. and yeah anyway she told me to put a finger on the tip of my nose. I did. She whistled loudly, lifted her right leg then did a long loud fanny-fart. Her arms started flailing about wildly. She closed her eyes and grit her teeth. I thought she was throwing a fit. Her arms jiggled and her legs shook like jelly as she rocked on the spot. Her head threw back. Her eyes opened rolled back like she was possessed. Her arms and hands reached towards me. She suddenly stiffened. She looked like a dummy before she started to moan. She rocked gently on the spot with a ****** look on her face. She opened her eyes, clapped her hands and spit on both of my knees. She reached a hand out before me. She asked me if I could feel it?
-Feel what? What, what did you feel?
-Nothing, there was nothing to feel. She told me that she was healing me and that I would walk in a few seconds time. I started thinking about what I was going to cook for dinner that night
-As she was healing you
-That’s a bit rude
-Only if you believe
-Don’t you believe?
-Well she told me to stand up and I could start walking
-I pulled myself up and fell. I fell face forward on the concrete. My knees don’t work so I sort of dropped out of the wheelchair and landed on the concrete in a patch of somebody else’s vomit
-No wonder you don’t believe, it’s because you don’t believe
-All I believe in are nuts, I’m surrounded by them. There is an old man who lives down the road. He sees me coming down the street and races out to talk to me. The first day I met him he opened himself up before me like I was Dr Phil. He didn’t even introduce himself he just launched into telling me that he had two malignant tumours in his prostate and that he had been accused of molesting his son.
-What did you say?
-I extended my hand and said, hi my names Andrew
-What did he say?
-He told me to be careful of all women. He told me a lot of them carry AIDS
-What it in their purse?
-No I meant the disease
-You can’t carry a disease in a purse, you’re just talking rubbish now arsehole
-You can call me a lot of things, arsehole, for example…
-I just did
-…but one thing you can’t call me is paranoid
-Is that what you told him?
-No, I told him that I had to find a woman first before worrying about STD’s
-Long distance?
-Yeah probably. Yesterday he told me that I am vulnerable and at risk by being in a wheelchair
-What did you say to that?
-I asked him, do you think so?
-Ooo yes, he said. He told me that people look at me like a target. He told me that I’m going to get beat-up and I should carry a fake gun with me
-What did you say to that?
-I guess it wouldn’t be that dumb
-To carry a fake gun
-It’s absurd. He pulled his fake gun out from the back of his pants. It was carved out of wood. There was no hole for the trigger. It looked like something a thirteen year old would have made in woodwork. It was coated with black boot polish. I looked closely at his hands and saw the faint taint of black
-So what are you saying, he is tainted by his fear?
-Now who’s being profound?
-Not me
-It was just another Patronising Saint
-And what’s so wrong with that?
-It’s just a waste of my time. It’s drains me. It’s hard enough as it is
-I know, I already told you I can see it




Andrew Stuart Buchanan

2 thoughts on “CONCENTRATE

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