June 2011
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Emollient-less
There will always be a place for pretty girls to perish. And any place is made worthy by a perishable pretty girl.
Sandfly in my room. I know how you feel buddy. Whenever I lunge at someone’s face, they flutter their hands at me, too.
In a dream, I was in a seamy, sunless greenhouse and the light switch was flicked but I couldn’t see. You came in and bleached the air, only then did I notice I...
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Watch What You Pick Up →
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Spend More Time
When you were up, I said you were looking well. And you just watched me wish for something more meaningful to say. I would have said you were radiant. My mouth was clammy and aching from coffee and early-morning dehydration. My lips stuck to one another, an awkward embrace. Like a sticky summer night I thought we’d spend.
I am a blemish on my city. Everybody here knows each other, or assumes they...
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Telling You Was Wasted
I’m not making peace with anything, and you can suck my dick if you think I should. There is nothing that I ‘should’ make peace with. And I’m under the impression that peace is not something that should be ‘made’. Peace isn’t something you should have to pressure and push at all angles until it throbs and finally allows itself to flow fluid. Peace is my alter-ego, her name is Pushover and like...
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justinpoole asked: Gosh you're cute.
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Little Girl
When I was fifteen, I spent a lesson discussing what we wanted to do when we were older, we were encouraged to write it down. This gave me an idea to write an essay in the form of an ostracized nine-year-old boy. I recently found a disk containing everything that was on my family hard-drive from the ages of ten to sixteen, when we bought a new computer. On it I found this:
4-August-2006
What I...
Henpecked and Hollowed
I am disappointed, ever. The indifference you see, the aloof and chilled features I put forward, it’s not my attempt at beguilement. It’s my aspirations death, descending on my face. It feels that my youth was a performance in a cheap theater with heavy makeup and shitty lighting. Nothing much was achieved. There were problems, and I fixed them, sometimes with the help of others.. Yes,...
Anonymous asked: Top 25 played go
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Ceiling Fan Friends
You couldn’t possibly know. Everyone reflects, with me. Everybody understands.
The stubborn bleats of machines and my favourite thing. It came and he went, I just don’t know which direction. You were my ten o’clock in the morning and my eleven o’clock at night. The stretching of my skin to fit in hips and breasts and thighs. You were an idol, of sorts. You were my vegetarian plate at barbeques...
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Up For Anything (Again)
This is nothing:
Leave the brilliant of before behind. For the fantastic of the future. My plans involve a skyline you don’t share. Sucker.
Gym at 5pm. Feels like highschool. Except a highschool I didn’t attend. Girls were never mean to me, really. Until I started sharing sheets (and maybe too many beds). But even then, the good ones hung on. Pretty little barnacles. Thanks for enduring my...
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Haunted - Radical Face
I think we’re...
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It Fits Me Just Fine
Raining again. Remember you spitting over the balcony after the gig and we were all drunk and laughing. Claiming who had better genitals. It was spitting then, my hair curling at the ends. She grabbed my face and asked who could hate it. Later on, when I looked in the mirror, I tried to find the un-detestable, came up empty handed. Or rather, hands full; of cheeks, of pin-prick eyes and all the...
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Shamefaced, Not Ashamed.
When he came around after two or three weeks. Singlet cut low and loose, so I couldn’t help but glimpse a lustrous expanse of waist and chest and shoulder-blades. I was sitting on my bed, the lamp on. And he looked at me then in a way I didn’t recognise. Like he was seeing someone he’d never seen before. Or maybe he was surprised at his reaction to my face. Or just to me, really. It’s that. That...
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Epicurean Skin
The first girl I ever kissed. Or the first girl to ever kiss me. She’s painted her toenails red and they show through the holes at the end of her sports socks. Sticks of raspberry liquorice in a gloved fist. We’re in my bedroom, it’s at the end of the hall, windows plastered over half the rooms wall space. Everything is licked strangely with afternoon sun and we’re alone, of course. Same-sex and...
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Anonymous asked: What does your workbook look like?
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Waiting On Loss Of Hope (Come On)
To be honest, I expected you to say something cliché. I assumed you would turn to me, flick your fingers to cup your pixie chin and lift your eyes. Let them eat cake, you would say. And I would feign delight and drama, roll my eyes with my face tilted to the fairy lights. A rolling, bubbling laugh that would attract the eye. But instead, you pause and slip under silence. Not into; under. It...
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Would You Mind Awfully If I Lived In You →
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Rounded Again.
Peeling an avocado in my kitchen, she stops to lend me a hand tying my shoes, because my ribs still hurt. Afraid to sneeze, she’s been airing out my room.
A toddler with bags under his eyes. Parents smoking in the car. Confined smog. Ladybug in a gas chamber. I feel a sneer appear. Poor little lout. My sister and I could always slam the door and holler all the way downstairs.
Sugar-free...
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Animal Collective - Bluish
Back to the time I...
I felt really pathetic one night last week so I started pulling faces at myself.
And then I made a montage.
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Association Games
I’d like to get a tattoo somewhere inconspicuous that just says ‘Hoo-hah’. So that whenever somebody saw it, they’d say it. ‘Hoo-hah’. Then it would be a word I associated with myself. A word that, for some reason, everybody around me seemed to say. And sometimes they’d say it with an upward inflection- ‘Hoo-hah?’, which would make me laugh. What sort of question is that? And maybe someone would...
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Xiu Xiu - I Luv The Valley OH
To be sixteen...
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Nervous About The Street, Like Me
Animal I like: Racoons. They are brilliant.
Birds on top of birds on top of birds. This is the ringing in my ears. I enjoy birds. I am pleased by wings. I wish they would get out of my head, though.
We were so young that he was astonished when I lay down and my breasts didn’t disappear ‘like most girls’. I treasure this glittered sprinkle, behind my right ear. Something I hadn’t even thought of....
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The Brothel Post →
Sleepless and Tight
Paramedic pauses to inquire about the warmth of my skin. He reaches over and grabs my face in both hands. This feels really nice. There’s something next-door-neighbourly, fatherly; about him. The other one blushes while placing ECG stickers on my left breast, he counts down my ribs. I can’t help laughing at this, though my chest stings. They rule out a heart attack while I pick the...
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Only A Relay Of Nothing Dialogue
She has sugar and butter on her lips. Dew-crested slopes. And I am feeling heavy, holding my hands out at the sides, like a penguin. She has something to say, but she doesn’t say it. She just turns the music up. She listens to her own. A reedy warble you expect to slip and fall from tune. It settles in the sink. With the foam on the plates. A cup of butter, she says. She is worried about...
This Film →
My sister and I would watch, on the couch downstairs. Getting away from the adults chain smoking in the lounge.
I feel like I’m going to be sick.
I’m going to make the next person I go out with a virgin. So I am the ultimate to them. So I am all they know.
I’m going to break hearts, this is what I deserve.
But not really. My capacity is such I would never intend to do so. (This is an apology to all those I have hurt.)
Uh, crossing lanes away from lovers. Again. The girl with the red...
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“I hate your music. If I never hear it again, I’d be ambivalent.”
