| (no subject) |
[Oct. 30th, 2012|10:27 pm]
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I feel like haggard Nosferatu haunting the corridors of a gargling sandcastle my alien lust and bent affection hanging from me, embarrassing stuff, like entrails and dragging across your carpet during afternoon tea smashed open everywhere except your damn films about me, where my sharp fingertips outlined in shadow scraping against the wall, quiver and bleed
"What craters play house to his form like a natural habitat!!" "An abominable inescapable demon... what spindling fingers he screws towards our holes!!"
a bald brick of a thing falling and crumbling on you all. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 21st, 2012|10:50 am]
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Shakey body and of swinging levers how out fingers point good belly whispering, oh papa out I come, cries the contour, appendages a black out of /from steady frame Is there with out shape, a name or meaning from whom these hang.
and how, if so, does it float my head |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 26th, 2012|02:16 am]
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It's lost, forever losing it's arm in the twist of things, I want to step out, and out and out and out, I want closet hearts singing in the rain, but to my horror, they just do, again and again every night. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 30th, 2011|03:27 am]
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I think I'm going to fail again. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 21st, 2011|02:38 am]
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I've got that thing, what't it called? When you can't sleep? necromania? haemophilia? nostalgia?
insomnia? |
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| All Talk No Trousers |
[Jun. 24th, 2011|07:44 pm]
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Hey! I've got a new wordpress place I'm writing about Sex Education and Gender stuff, If you're interested do bookmark it, danke! 
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| A poem, of politics in a room. |
[Dec. 4th, 2010|12:40 pm]
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When we questioned doors and walls, we didn't expect replies When we questioned chairs and floors, a reply was not the answer Beware that roar of victory from the belly of power hungry disregard, "This is ours" "We are this" "We belong to this, and will do it's bidding!"
We posed a question and were silenced, ownership will not be questioned again, because something has won something...
this space belongs, however, to power as ever, more than ever This space belongs to heavy fists of baby-bashing cock
The revolution is here and it's testicles are crushing us all... you will not cry The cock and balls of revolution holds the keys The cock and balls of revolution decides the protection you will have, you will not defend yourself The cock and balls of revolution will decide your worth, and you will be left to cower, panicking in the cold if the cock and balls of revolution choose a gun instead of you there's only space for one of the two and cock and balls of revolution will choose the gun
Play along or you haven't got it in you, Cary our phallus on your head if you care Stitch up the wet tender opening in your chest and be received it whispers with innocent crushing fury
Beware the shaving of their beards, the donning of black suits, when there is a dawn they'll try be the morning when there is a dawn they'll try to devour you...
I defy the claim in the twilight that the cock and balls of revolution are the same as mine... mine, my genitals, are soft and quiet, clumsy, depressed and in the light they are happy,
you, are nothing but a beak I already knew disguised but now unveiled, sunk into my skull, but it is soft and you will have no grip,
sweet, sweet
fuck you
A world worse than the one we walked out of has been created inside you and I lend you legitimacy no more.
I will cry and I will break and I will lie in bed until the afternoon and I will be fixed and I will reach out my hand and there is love that will take it, outside, beyond you. We do more than fight, and we do more than fuck, because we do it with our legs outspread, our minds open, our palms skywards and we are a circle
peace be within you, milk be upon you
I am guilty with compliance
but now I sever you and I grow |
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| Secratary's Block |
[Nov. 24th, 2010|12:09 am]
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I long for writer's block...
To you my readers and to myself pretending to be another future reader, here's the state of play:
I'm on the down side of the cycle right now under the wheel, dragged beneath the wagon. Ouch!
I think this is my absorbant time... I suck a lot in... but I create less.... I'm becoming purely consumer, and come to think perhaps it would be better to be a thief... and I figure I'll never get out of it any other way but to eat myself to death on stolen flies and like a parasite in the brain of a caterpillar grow anew inside the corpse.
Consume consume consume consume!
I DON'T think this need to eat myself to death, my desperation to fail, so that I can quicken the fall is... [blank]
Give it to me lydia |
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| How do you feel? |
[Oct. 28th, 2010|04:07 am]
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"What do you study?" He asked, "Philosophy" she smirked with a confident questioning indifference
Do you ever feel outside yourself, and look at you hands and wonder why they move when you look at them and will them too, and wonder why you would do it in the first place? Who's hands are these? And felt that everything you were is a mere character responding to the other actors in the play? The character with thoughts, fears, sensations and intentions who at times possesses all aspects of the observation of the greater world, acts as though the character and the body were one and that the character had an eye socket and not the body.... you felt that now that observation had outgrown the character and swollen so that it observes very separately to thinking and to feeling, that it watches itself, and sees itself think but observes, and that to have some part of this know that it is not the thinking character that observes but the body. And slipped the observation back into the character and known that the body will shed the character when it forgets to copy itself from the previous frame and the body will fall calmly and peacefully. The character who has acted and been distributed in influence and will be imitated as incorporated into future depictions of humanity by denzel washington and clint eastwood.
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| Titles |
[Oct. 21st, 2010|10:27 pm]
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The Structural design of Feminism and Concrete
Impersonal Belonging
Peripheral ephemeral knowing
Tend towards / technically speaking
Pavlov's Porn
Schroedinger's Closet |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 11th, 2010|09:46 pm]
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seemingly no time recently for writing things |
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| Maps |
[Oct. 4th, 2010|04:37 am]
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