August 2011
9 posts
7 tags
“I want to go with the one I love…”
– Excerpt from “Ich will mit dem gehen, den ich liebe” by Bertolt Brecht
Aug 25th
1 note
8 tags
Blood, bone, skin and life; She owns what it contains. A specimen known that beats, Tourniquets by her desire, Remains in her possession for now; For good, and for as long as it takes. Calcified to the depths of my being, She could own it all, as it is… Just blood bone skin and life.
Aug 24th
3 notes
14 tags
#55: Throw one hell of a raging party...
The 6th of August was freaking slow to roll around this year, but it still made it. The year was just an absolute grudge match with grenade gloves and no referee, but I somehow made it through unscathed and lucky in so many ways. So a celebration was needed, and what better time than my 27th birthday. Heaps of booze was bought, food was thought of, crappy fairy lights were strung up and a gas...
Aug 20th
3 notes
8 tags
“We love life, not because we are used to living but because we are used to...”
– Nietzsche
Aug 16th
14 notes
12 tags
Calloused heels and cracked feet
The thoughts are sane and close to perfect, as the vision he sees is of venus and her beauty. His eyes don’t deceive at all, feeling sore; whilst the heart skips and sinks into warmth. The road endured arose up to meet them both, slowly aching a minefield under their soft steps. Journeys endured and spoils were reaped; with calloused heels and cracked feet. Was it worth the...
Aug 14th
32 notes
15 tags
The ninjas night mission
I wake up in the darkness, and stumble around to locate my clothes that are strewn all over her room. Its 4:22am and I’m getting ready to head to work. I try my damn well hardest not to make noise, I calculate my steps, I breathe slowly, hold my arms out to find walls and plot out where I thought my clothes once were. She is stirring in her sleep, just softly, but each time she does, I...
Aug 12th
2 notes
2 tags
Aug 12th
51 notes
8 tags
Aug 2nd
3 notes
July 2011
9 posts
7 tags
I'm asking you a question?
I’m keen to flex my writing muscles, it’ll involve punishing my brain meats into a fine grey pulp of creative goo, and feeding it into a word processor and trying to create something worthwhile. Would it be worthy? Can it be done? What is the first step to some form of success? What is the last step before failure? The concept? Exactly like this blog but more in depth. Stemming from the concept...
Jul 31st
10 notes