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I make sounds. Glitches from the throat. Aural landscapes that sound like this - Polygonia Faunus

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My Smiles a Chain-Link Fence, that I have put up - MM

Feeling as shallow as a pond. Very much into glam & aesthetic beauty at the moment, but not feeling or being in the moment. Feeling like things are boxed in, labelled and cannot defy their nature. Eg - Russell Brand is and can only ever be a Rusell Brand
ie - if he ever shaves his face...
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What a wonderful 1 year anniversary gift from my best friend!

Jules By TJ Koort

Jules and i met sometime last year in Hyde Park where we shared cheap wine and talked about (an old) Bob Dylan. Not exactly the most civil way of meeting someone (do bars count?) but for some reason weve been best friends ever since. Rewinding a couple of months prior...
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After Happily Ever

Originally Featured on the SuicideGirls Blog

http://suicidegirlsblog.com/blog/after-happily-ever/

So what happens after the happily ever after? Or more specifically the moment it begins. Most stories are based on two things, Girls and Conflict. I have this theory that every song ever written, every picture ever taken, every film ever filmed, every artwork ever drawn, or painted was in a...
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Bedtime Story

Upon falling asleep last night, my subconscious decided to spill out this bed time story for my girlfriend. I still manage to surprise myself. Seriously, WTF.


Once upon a time there was a Goat who fancied himself a bit of a Dandy, so often took himself to get his hair styled and permed. He then went to get his hooves polished, buffed and...
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The Debt Collectors

A relationship should be about two unique individual people sharing their lives with one another, not two people living the one, same life Audrey

Im someone who grew up with this notion handed to me by books, films & pop songs, that Love was the highest ideal one could aim for, that it was, in fact, all you need. Forget PhDs, University degrees...
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Moan Like A Lullaby:

Say again?
I had a taste of him,
His moans like a lullaby
His hands tied up with ribbon
And my coconut and pineapple body wash
Filling the room with a sickly sweet alco-pop smell

What is your philosophy Penelope?

That redneck dumped me with decent abandon
I called him a cunt
Then he tasted mine
I sent him into the...
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The Canary Project

Throughout history people with bad haircuts have made bad decisions, Hitler, Napoleon, Nixon, Trump etc. Why? They were too consumed by vanity to focus on doing the right thing. As a life-long representative and wearer of bad haircuts, I have lost, in total, months off of my life due to countless individual moments of Mirror-Checking, Finger-Tined-Combing, Tussling, & playing a game I like to call How many different Materials can I see my own reflection in? (For the record its 19.5) When I finally get it to a length Im happy with, one that allows versatility for different styles etc, I get possessed by a demon called Mr Snips. Never, ever leave a person with slight OCD alone with a pair of.well anything really. My mother has found me many times in situations even more awkward than the usual being-caught-with-pants-down scenario one would expect. Eg The Purple Eyebrows Incident (See previous entries), but she has always been understanding of my obsessive vanity, in fact she may have been the one to instil It in me.
The irony of all this, of course, is that had I just left it alone, I would have eventually achieved the aesthetic goal I had set out for. But when Mr Snips takes hold he doesnt let go easily. Powered by the thousands of individual evil hair strands, like some kind of secular Ashi Magari like Head Tentacles obeying Snips every whim; it starts off as...
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Weird Science
Originally Featured on the SuicideGirls Blog- http://suicidegirlsblog.com/blog/weird-science/

Over the years I have built up this Ideal. A checklist of features that have inevitably turned me into a picky pretentious asshole, but with good intentions. Like Weird Science, I wish i could take Tina Feys chin & glasses, Zooey Deschanels smile, Sara Silvermans mannerisms & Penelope Cruzs.everything, and turn them into some kind of super girl. Those features have become less important in their practicality eg those people that are strictly a boobs or butt man, and more about a feeling thats invoked in my heart by the mathematics of angles, and more overly the colour palette and contrast. As it stands you could probably personify my lust into the form of #RGBYYY00021.


But Im always afraid in this hypothetical daydream that turns into a nightmare; that the Frankenstienian hot girl will turn against its maker. You cant make...
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Shop Girl
Originally Featured on the Official SG Blog

You know that moment when the checkout girl asks How are you? with that practised, hollow, melodic inflection & tone, looking up at you from their station with a labored soulless smile? I see through the aesthetic delusion, to the evident sadness that lies within their corneas, the timing of the rise & fall of the smile. But as the smile rises, there comes a moment of mathematic possibility in the way the corners of their mouths meet their cheekbones, and for a split second an entire world of individual personality is brought to life. I try to keep this window of a smile open, by encouraging it with my own genuine smile.

For the record, Im a pretty smiley kind of guy, and its usually my first instinct to smirk at anyone or anything either out of politeness or awkwardness. Obviously this was not received well when my ex told me her cat had died; she started to believe I was some kind of sick, sadistic bastard. But I just have no idea how to handle situations like that.

Anyway, cut back to Sarah, the Woolworths girl & myself, in a hot, sticky, long line of irritated waiting customers in the Summer of 2003. She had thrown this question at me through slightly crooked, adorable teeth, and the raising of eyebrows upon a slightly sweaty forehead. Maybe it was the pleasant warmth of the afternoon, the fact I had just graduated, or the fact I just found her incredibly cute; saying good just feltwrong...
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Con(tinuity)
One Man's Homage to his beloved Kicks

I was born into this world bright red, kicking & screaming, from the loving, caring hands of an elderly asian lady working three different jobs just to be able to feed her children when she eventually came home at night after a fifteen hour shift. But I was one child she would not have to bear the burden of raising. From the moment of my creation, I was taken from my mothers hands and passed down a long line, placed in a crib of sorts & shipped off to another country.
After what seemed an eternity, sharing my cabin space with numerous others that looked just like myself yet came in a vast variety of different shades & sizes like some kind of multicultural gathering, we had arrived at our destination. I had at this stage expected wed all be headed to the same place, yet upon our arrival some gruff ugly men in horrible bright yellow jackets split us all up. I was once again put in a dark box and carried off to some unknown destination. Though Id never needed much sustenance, ironically my box said Handle With Care.
I awoke to find myself in some kind of Zoo, on display under bright lights for all to see. Constantly being picked up, tried on, the humans would model themselves with me in front of mirrors, then place me back on my podium. It were a lonely existence spent only with the unfamiliarity of other species parallel to me; some kind of animal with a fur hood and green scaly skin, and a beautiful, yet quiet, Peackockish floral thing. The Summer of 2007 was hot, sticky & lonely. All the other Things had been seen into good homes, yet here I stood. Until he walked...
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dinah:
Absolutely lovely, I enjoyed every word. You have great images here, the emotions run strong throughout. smile
jensen:
smile