Filed under: sitting in the library
you read it over and over and over just to torture yourself, you always have. when you told mum, she said you’ve always had a certain sadness. and there was a tightness in your chest that you just got used to, like you exist within “(parentheses, [within brackets], within quotation marks)”. trapped like a trap in a trap. is that a real word or did you make it up? like anyways. and you said it was self explanitorial and then i knew, i knew but i didn’t want you to go, i wanted you to stay and make me feel better about smoking a cigarette all the way down to the butt, like all the things that make you feel good and bad, like all things that matter. family. food. your love(r). art and repetition.
:: cold cold cold
:: Finger Dicks, the best band ever? Quite possibly*.
:: people usually have some sort of rythym with it
:: polaroid life
:: miss pours and glass doors
:: Q. the same name? A. the same name.
:: ‘it’s satisfying when the rest of the audience is cut off from the meaning’
*I want to sing in that band, maybe one day i will meet joel and he’ll ask me to sing in the band.
Filed under: Uncategorized
I am but one of the proletariet who must wear spectacles to read and work on the computer. This said, i often don’t, so i’m still dicovering those banal happenings often overlooked by the visually gifted. Tonight, it was the lenses fogging up as i sipped my tea. Boy did i get a shock.
So, persons who wear glasses, you know…respect. Or something.
Yours truly (crushed under essay explode) mimx
Filed under: yes&no
A cup of tea and crossed legs under the table, you had a long black and I liked that // the sun was setting sooner than usual so we walked across the road to the park to catch the last minutes of light/warmth, the grass itched my thighs through my stockings, running my hands up and down them now and then // you want too, I should just let you but all the same things stop me, always feeling underwhelmed, always the same // no sun now, there is a dog swimming in the pond and we stare until our gaze is broken by nothing in particular // we talk about wednesday, the next time we see each other I won’t be so erratic but green blue red shadows all over you, tell me I will be // and you will be
Filed under: death
::sore throat
::vomiting
::sore throat/sore eyes
::sore eyes
::take the pressure away!
::strangeland
::brain rattle with every cough
::sculpture
::sleep
::burning nose
::no breath
::sore eyes
::salad, tea and hello panda
::doctor says!! accute influenza-swollen brain and lung infection!
::walk/sleep/antibiotics
::”Carolyn, you seem distracted?”…”I am, my baby’s sick!”
::cracked lips, strained stomach muscles, no sleep
Filed under: food
One of the greatest joys in life is asking a stranger for a cigarette.
For me, it is surrounded by so much mystery, because It’s not acceptable to approach a stranger to demand anything else. Perhaps it has something to do with war, or poverty, or being drunk?
‘Excuse me, would you mind if i bum a hot chip?’
‘Thanks…Sorry, have you got any tomato sauce?’
Surrounded by plants and flowers, how could i not be happy!
Big brother friday night live bling bling night!!!
The nexus between ‘asian’ night and auschwitz night.
“…then housemates simply place the gold teeth in P Diddy’s mouth, whichever team ends up with the most gold teeth in P Diddy’s mouth…WINS!!!”.
Yeah that’s awesome, except, that’s not P Diddy. That’s not even a photo of P Diddy. That’s just a painting of a black face, but what’s the difference right? Wait a second…black face…Big Brother Friday Night Live Minstral Night!
Filed under: death
Yesterday evening i sat outside the Enmore Theatre on a tightly strung pile of brag magazines for an hour and was reminded who’s hot and who’s not. Everybody in the brag-HOT, everybody absent from the brag-NOT. Stabbed in the back again.Same bands, same Dj’s, same nights, same posers, same slappers. Band names evolve slightly every six months. WOLFmother.andcub-THEsins.hotchip.valentinos-WORDSTRINGclapyourhandssayyeah.
When i was six all the kids on my street and I started a collective, we called it Kool Klub. We formed Kool Klub as an umbrella for our band which was called-Bang Bang Your Dead Fifty Bullets In Your Head, I played keyboard guitar and we performed mini concerts (entry by donation) to raise money for toys like beach cricket sets, water bombs and lego. My mum said we should choose a shorter title for the band because everytime i made a poster the letters got all cramped at the end and also people would find it hard to remember. I said i would consider shortening it to just Bang Bang Your Dead, her reaction didn’t seem overly enthusiastic, or if she preferred i would change it completely to- 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1,0…blastoff.
Little did she know i was just 20 years ahead of my time.
When i first found out about this invention, i too had mixed feelings but those feelings have all turned into feelings of curiosity and hunger. I also think i would implode after one bite.
