The Diary Of BenJamin Clemo
~I just have things to say that are really Fame & Art~
Sunday 29th January
Woke up this morning to fading thoughts of a bad dream about meat. Feeling unwell, all steamed up in last weeks clothes, lying in a messy bed with a hairy pie scoffer. Looking across the room I see a lonely tortellini shell. It is also hairy and sad. The remnants of my only solid sustanance consumed within the last 3 days. I feel sick.
I visit a noisy cafe with the hairy pie scoffer. I order a long, tall, cheap glass of tap water for nourishment. I think about fame and being art. I wonder if Kirsten Dunst thinks my face is as big as hers. In a good way. Big faced ladies get me too excited and I have to run to the bathroom because my sickly constitution doesn’t support a racing heartbeat. I am unwell.
I lie around in last weeks clothes trying to feel better. Preparing myself mentally for a loud and demanding studio session. Hairy pie scoffer sits at the foot of the bed watching me. The big black cat also watches. Their watchfulness reminds me of STUDS. It is a members club in Kennington that operates a no trousers policy. I wonder what the bouncers wear. I feel sick. But fame and being art will make me well again I think.
P$. I have been looking for some sounds that might develop our new album. I think it might be the big golden face, but something about this shingon chant is really Art. Being, doing, Fame.