Monday, November 16, 2009

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Silly fucking lunatic with your beaded skirts and shit. Keep up the good act while everyone is so drunk they can't even tell whether or not you're bullshitting with them. I know your game, and it's spent. Bored. Washed-up. Get this thing the fuck out of here before I try my hardest to be a violent person. I'm not. (Artwork 'Grey Square' by Julie Alexander)

Monday, November 2, 2009

CeCe Peniston mix tape.


She is so magical when she touches me with her greasy LA Looks-covered hands. She lights up the sky in the middle of Yuma, east, somewhere at the bottom of the foothills where scorpions dance to her sweet melodies. She is so practical about the way in which her speakers are bumping... and to think I could have taken her home. Eerily reminiscent of the time we both crossed paths in a desolate, abandoned strip mall. Marginalised by our love for one another, she reassured me of her entourage. We felt the plight of its utter abandon, without ever having heard its last breath. "Finally it has happened to me!" I thought aloud, trying my best to find some common ground on which to stand. It's hard out here, but it is worth it and the cold keeps coming but I know it's going to get warmer sooner than later.