[g8-sheffield] Communiqué Temporary Autonomous Zones.

[zerosevenfour two]

Communiqué
Temporary Autonomous Zones.

He sat there with his lover the lake of broomhead was as quiescent as the
moment. It was overcast a ominous loom of deluge hang in the air and when it
broke it promised to be fucking breathtaking as this moment. They spoke not
looking at each other the ghetto player blasted  Radiohead on full volume as
their heads turned to each other they kissed. It was a slow long bass kiss.

They caressed each other feeling each others naked self's under their 
cloths.
His lover was warring a dress and nothing under her dress. His hand reached 
her
thighs as his fingers eased into her succulent wet purity he played there 
for a
while as he kissed her neck.

He moved down undoing the front of dress he opened the front her 32 a 
woman's
breast come into view he kissed his way down his fingers was now going in 
time
with Radiohead as his mouth closed over her nirvana of her woman's breast

As the rain come down they made phonetic love there now full naked self's 
become
wet with the rain the rain storm was only for a moment in that moment they 
lost
there self's to each other. In that moment in another time another location
people would have ran for cover.

Others would have watched the rain from there windows of there homes. There
would have been people with out a anxiety walking from a 2 b. Meanwhile here
they was having just spent a very incisive moment of time. Uncovered looking 
at
each other as they got dressed. The cloth was drenched but why should they 
care
it was a warm summers day and they soon would be dry.

Radiohead come to an end the ghetto player was put into the rucksack along 
with
their footwear their naked feet walked along the now damp earth. Broomhead 
had
gone back to being like a lake of glass the reflection of verdant leafy 
green
was just something to be seen.

Both of there hand holds each other in the warmth of their love. They had 
not
spoken since giving each other oral love in the rain. Sometimes word's was
meaningless here was one of those times. Their communiqué was love this love
was a insurrection in itself.

This love liaison had been going on since 2003 and had grown it was not an
omnipresent love affair it was a quiet revolution of love shared moments of
continuance. There was no need to inform the world. Indeed as with any real
revolution the world would not understand. There was no need for a 
communiqué a
requirement to tell the world.

It began in a moment of poverty for each other.  The first time they had 
made
love it was not planed, it just happened.  From then to know this is how it 
had
gain subsistence.

This moment had happened because of a birthday and the need to share time 
with
each other. It was not to celebrate. Just excuses to share time and walk 
round
their beloved Morehall on a overcast August Monday.

They had met for the 10:45 bus having done their own thing before. When they 
met
it was a simple hello. There was no need to peck. In deep conversation about
what they had done since they're last meeting bus fairs was paid stairs
ascended seats occupied. In deep conversation, the transit vehicle called a 
bus
moved off.

The bus moved at a pace with their conversation the biosphere outside have 
their
own world was not there. When leaving the bus they hold hands and shared a 
deep
loving kiss at the gates of Morehall. Then a long and slow embrace of each
other followed. They looked up at the dark verdant drive of Morehall it 
seemed
to welcome them home from there detriment times in the urban paranoia of 
city
life.

The walk was a slow one they passed Morehall on their left and walked onto
Broomhead where they had sat before and shared passion. Here they had slept
taken time out from life the suffering that had brought them jointly into 
each
other in 2003.

Now it was 2005 they stopped at the Kings Chair as they called it. The lake 
of
Broomhead reached ashore as they washed their uncovered feet in its water.
Their cloths were now dry as they removed them and swam exposed and naked
braking the peacefulness of the tranquillity was broken as they splashed 
into
the cold Broomhead. True there was propaganda telling you not to swim into 
the
lake. Rules were there to broken at times.

They swam diving under then swimming to each other there naked self's met in 
a
slow kiss and very malleable embrace the warmth of the overcast day and 
their
love made up for the tepid water. As their kiss become intense here, he 
spoke
of the last few weeks. Talked of his real desire just to run from 
everything.
He was haunted by the events that had brought then together.

He had gone out with some friends to a night of pretentious artist where the
ghost of June 23rd 2003 re appeared he would tell all his thoughts but had
grown into the bullshit of the world he moved inside of. Therefore, when he
spoke he was unsure as to what veracity was. Here he could tell all his
thoughts had no need to lie about his past and where he was now.

Over the last few weeks, the omnipresent ghost had haunted him in the spoken
word and presence of the ghost herself and her friends. In this world 
friends
was as fair weather as today's hidden sunshine. In this world of pretentious
bullshit, speakers of self-importance and so called political romanticist.
Where the ego had to be as big as the conceited self-important self is. He
could speak a genuineness with his lover.

They swam back to the Kings Chair got dressed and the discussion just 
flowed.
Today on his 40th birthday was a meeting he had no real desire to attend. 
His
desire to change this world for the better was his encouragement.

Indeed, it was how they come together again. They had known each other for a
long time now their reintroduction was through political activity both had a
desire for there self's and the emancipation of there own people the working
class. This common path got them talking. At this stage in 2002, there was
nothing but this common path. It would be the events on June 23rd 2003, 
which
would mean they become lovers.

It was his friend of the time now his lover where he found consolation. His 
head
was smashed following those events. How could another human be so fucking
outright harmful and ugly towards another human being? He had become as
bad-tempered and ugly towards the person this just created more bad shit for
both sides. He has moved on and again here he found himself haunted by her
ghost. Forgiveness was such a hard thing to find in consideration of her 
malice
towards him.

He had spent the last few years de toning himself the project of which the
meeting was about was about him. As much as, it was an opportunity to repair
the broken people such as the very real ghost of 2003. His actions were in
consideration could have and for such a free thinker should have been, 
better.
He had spoken at length to his lover about his own feelings. Coming to
understand the very real and damaged person who could commit such a vile act 
as
she had done. Here was an opportunity to create a free space. As he had read
about in a book by Hackam Bay called Temporary Autonomous Zones.

Temporary Autonomous Zones was a moment where people could come together out 
of
the world of capitalism it's self-imposed rules and morality. Where people
could be just themselves come to understand in a safe space why people do 
act
as she had done towards himself and the way he had reacted back towards her.
Here we could start to understand each other gain inner wisdom respect and 
love
for each other.

He holds no real feelings towards the people he would be at the meeting 
with.
Indeed there was a real loathing towards some of them or was that towards 
him
self for being involved with them? He kissed his lover as this was becoming
negative and he needed that not to be on this day his birthday. For at least 
a
time it would be of rapture with someone he loved had a common path.

They slowly fucked each at the side of Broomhead sex took them from the 
world of
politics and the self-important pretentious bullshit, speakers they both 
knew.
The copulation was very intense no cloths was removed it was slow and lasted
the whole of Rain Dogs (Tom Waits) once over they moved back to there walk.
This would be the last time they had sex for this day the first of the eight
two thousand five.

They hold hands as not to lose each other. The road was over grown with 
nature
in full occupancy she had taken over with her meny colours of green. The 
tress
shadowed their path. They stood on the bend of the precipice that over 
looked
Broomhead and on your left, Morehall was looming. They waked passed the 
storm
damaged tree on there right and took in the view over looking both Morehall 
and
Broomhead. Both hands were still in each others a simple kiss passed a 
moment.

The Orange or was that a dark red cows was in the field they had been for 
much
of this year, somehow the green grass made the colour more intense or was it
the moment.  Walking down the closed road where the self emancipated hens 
and
chickens today a cat on a wall was doing their thing. Was the cat a part of
there uprising? All cats was true anarchist They passed the farm and onto
another road.

In time they reached the bus stop and began to speak again about when they 
would
see each other. His lover had to look out for her 14-year-old sister as her
mother was going on holiday. Therefore, it would be two weeks before they 
would
meet again. When they parted the deprivation was always there. Nevertheless, 
the
gain and the moment made up for this. It had to be like this as the rest of 
the
world would not understand there love there righteousness would tell them 
how
to be.

They shared a coffee at the coop café in town. Before the departure, both 
talked
at once but not over each other. They looked over the urban paranoia of the
city. They made their plans to meet again. Today he felt her departure and 
it
hurt a pain of real loss come over him. He was not looking foreword to the
meeting.

He walked towards his friends home as they had planed to meet before the 
meeting
and walk down to MATLIDA together. The homeless of this urban paranoia was
about. Some had gone colourless and aged since he had last seen them. Others
was asking him to go into SPAR to get drinks he gave then some bullshit as 
he
had no desire to feed there habits.

You can see more of my image based work on line here pretentiuosartist.com 
more
words and thoughts are here urbanparanoia.co.uk an archive of joint image 
work
is here image.lowtech.org future image work will be here peace.lowtech.org 
for
more on MATLDA go to sheffield.indymedia.org.uk  Thank you reading this.

0742
3.8.2005
Published as e mail and photocopy
All words copy left

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