May 2011
4 posts
Inconclusive.
I don’t understand myself, you had me if you wanted me and you chose to leave, we never had an ending moment and I kept my doors open for you as a friend when you were around. When you were, I wasn’t bothered, I blew you off, I spent my time with you as a friend and a friend was exactly all I saw it as. I told you things of other people I would never tell you if I wanted you the way I...
Dear you,
I’m sorry I’ve neglected you a little lately. I’ve been focussing on the public and not on the private. I’ve been sat alone at night these past two evenings thinking about how much I want to pour my heart out and wondering wether I should. Maybe one day I will.
April 2011
5 posts
Maybe I should write more. I stopped in fear that you could still read it, but that really shouldn’t stop a single word from falling out of my mind. I don’t know whether it’s down to my overwhelming fatigue this evening, or maybe it’s just the idea that I’m occupied in my life enough to feel genuinely happy and want to confirm it to myself. All I know, is things are...
Tight Biting.
Last night I encountered the old times. I remembered things I’d otherwise chosen to forget, and mentioned things I could only remember. We spoke of what, well, who, ruined us. We spoke of me, of him. We spoke truth and we spoke quietly. A man I could only remember these past few summer days, the moments we shared and the things we did, we saw, experienced. The snake in my ear at his every...
I realise that there are three billion men in the world
That I don’t need to want me.
To help me.
But the fact that you haven’t helped,
When I asked for you specifically….
Makes me wonder if you’ll ever help at all.
Just call, you said you would.
I have what has been diagnosed as possibly life threatening without getting it operated on, so on a day I’ve waited to get it sorted. Doctors…WORK.OUT.MY.FUCKING.BLOOD.TYPE
March 2011
6 posts
Tape Deck.
Somebody asked me what my art work symbolises, what it means, and will it be famous. I answered: “It depends who wins the next great war”. As victors are always the ones left to write the history books. After all this time you’re about to spoil the suprise, take my hands off of your eyes too soon…
He will let any chance of happiness slip away.
Little Memories Marching On - Your Little Feet...
Our little dream, working the machine. Crash and fall closing in, on who we are. Tell me where would you go? Tell me what led you on, I’d love to know. A mountain of pearls to sooth the soul, And black and gold to cover the old, Going blind from too many shining stones. The fortune cast a curse, I knew it would Your vivid life turned into grey, And the fortune buried you, I knew. Was it...
Do what you must do. Just don’t trust people you meet. They might promise you, that the river ain’t deep.
If You Could Read My Mind;
If you could read my mind, love, What a tale my thoughts could tell. Just like an old time movie, ‘Bout a ghost from a wishing well. In a castle dark or a fortress strong, With chains upon my feet. You know that ghost is me. And I will never be set free As long as I’m a ghost that you can’t see. If I could read your mind, love, What a tale your thoughts could tell. Just like a...
Alas, What Shall Rain, Shall Rain.
“Alas, what shall rain, shall rain. Different species when do entwine, And create these measures of such devine, Appart from fleeting evening times, And yet, Shall produce such twisted states of mind. Secrets of our hears ensure, The hope of resurrection from prickly thorns, But alas, how sweetly torn. And what shall rain, shall rain.”
February 2011
5 posts
Fundamental Clothing.
Momentary pleasures have me feeling long term weak. Side by side lay on our backs. flat. The after party. It’s all about my philosophy of what you wear, or wrap yourself in after sex, I’m sure I’ll explain it one day, you should ask. Watch real passion filter into my eyes when I talk about something I really and truly believe in like a theory built up in my own brain, that you...
Scare Tactics.
I know I already spoke these lyrics to you in earlier hours, but at least finally now I have something to write. A letter, just to you. Before you say it, I’m aware how poorly this is written, but just look past it, the same way you do when I trip on paving slabs in public, pretend it never happened.
How coded our worlds are today.
I’m glad you came, I’m glad you witnessed,...
List.
I need to:
Listen to my music louder. Wake myself up. Make some jewellery. Customise some clothes. Find reference images for my photographer and hair stylist. Book spaces at the gallery. Research. Collect pornographic imagery. Make my pre-orders. Pay my flatmate. Wait for deliveries to arrive. Make more jewellery. Have a catalogue made. Actually remember the photoshoots I have booked. Set an...
Stevie Wonder - Part Time Lover..
Stevie you dirty dirty dog…
To Avoid Being...
“I gave it four stars out of five and then changed it to three stars out of ten. I don’t know how she would have felt about my mental rating adjustments, but fuck, it even hurt me. Where was the magic and how did she charm me when she faded to grey? Whistful sounds and whispered moves. I was somewhat confused by the layout and derivative texture of her body.
Awkward, she made me feel...
January 2011
3 posts
...And What About Edie Sedgwick?
I hear your voice in silences. Will the teasing stop or just get stronger? Same old things, things you’ve never seen that are implanted behind my eyes. Easy, easy. Stranded in my brain. My own personal nightmares are often played out in underlying sound waves through my eyes and my installation. It don’t matter to me, where you’ve been. I don’t look back, I’m an...
I want.
Is it so much to ask that I can lay my hands down onto the body of a boy that is, mine? I want someone on my level, someone who is not afraid to outstare me from across the room. Who throws a drink back. Someone who can challenge me, take it, and give it back. Someone who knows me and fully understands it. With most males, I become a mirage. You can look and stare at me for a while, but I...
Tell Me.
Whatever tomorrow brings I’ll be there, with open arms and open eyes. It’s hard to see you like this. Tough to see how friends and love and love and friends can be this way in front of me behind the closed doors. Tell me to board the plane out of your mind if you wish but just know, that before you both swim, you’ve got to be ok to say it. I’m not living alone anymore, but...
December 2010
5 posts
Lets grow up the same as we are but more wise. Yet still meet once a year on the same day despite how much we’ve seen each other, to revisit how were were right now, when we weren’t so old.
Or I’ll just convert to Hinduism. You can convert to Euros.
1 [ie n[1 § en[1 e1 11[r dd[ 2§1111§ 3333 13 3 3 3 3h[§948 90.
…..Some bending light comes along and flowers lean toward the sun.
Time to focus on my work,
because I don’t like any of you.
Lying on a mattress in the corridor. In the dark. Somewhat withdrawn. One friend arrives, no words are spoken. He lies on the floor in the opposite direction, his head resting on my pillow.
Ten minutes pass.
“I know you are lonely.”
“I know you know”
I could stay there.
I’ll admit I do particularly like men. I don’t like talking to them and I don’t like listening to them, however I do like some of the things, they do. For some time I convinced myself it was just a strike three, I wasn’t at all bothered. Of course someone always comes along and ruins that don’t they. I don’t want to be lonely when the others come in pairs,...
November 2010
6 posts
Train Track.
You did owe me that photographic quality, you were lucky not to get that drink thrown in your face. I would’ve, had I not worn a new outfit. One glass at you, two back at me, three back at you, and one for your “friend”.
Manchester defined us and destroyed us in some ways, we had already decided it, but the city screamed volumes to us about how correct we both were. We’d...
Vote for Hope Rosemary. Pretty Please →
I AM THE DREAM. YOU ARE THE DREAMER.
BLONDE ON BLONDE.
I love you like I’ll love no other. In a way that could never be described, but you know. I know that you know.
Inside and small lights and sweat and dance and blood poured over the walls and girls. Mess and pressure and us. We had fun. Unfortunately, limited fun. To ourselves in our own little world just for a short amount of time. Dance. DANCE! Blonde on Blonde. One night only. You have...
October 2010
3 posts
A story is a story and yours is an admirable one at that. However, sweetness, it is just, not a true one.
I like it. I like it when he calls me “lady”. He likes it when I wake up with him at 5am before he goes to work. He calls me cute, but only when I’m half asleep and can’t fight back. I like how impressed he gets. I like that he thoroughly enjoys himself. I like it...
Street Child. Part I.
Some people fall in love and touch the sky. Others fall in love and find quicksand. Our love is somewhere inbetween, and I swear, I can’t make up my mind.
What I do know…Is that my money better come soon, my escape route, my child shooting sniper.
The artist.
The artist has to live like everyone else, and while she sits and she thinks she sees chattering heads and kitsch objects that make her feel somewhat paranoid that this statement is true. She falls, she gets up, scrapes the dirt away and notices a cut holding onto fragments of the tarmac she indented with her bones. Bones that do not, in fact, “grow strongerer”. It’s not a poetic...
September 2010
4 posts
Prison Roll.
I dreamt about you last night in a night terror. You got hurt by something above me that I could not understand or control. It only moved and made sound when I lay in my bed. I awoke to find myself stood naked in the corner, having locked myself into my room.
Just the one.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17. 17.
17 days for my voice to change, my lungs to fall out, my personal space to become messy and my head to get fucked. I miss them three times over when they’re not here. Somedays I wake up and you’re a ghost. I am human I am waiting and I know you know. “He’d love this” “She’s missing...
New Mean Beauty Queen Dirty Drugs & Magazines.
You move in slow motion, everything goes by so fast. So I’ll slow down just a little, nothing saved and nothing there to last. I speak in riddles and my intentions may turn me on but you? Im yours forever, will you love me when Im gone? It’s not you I admire, but you are my living example of what I shouldn’t become. I want a person that will run ahead of me to see how fast...
Save The Best For Last, For He Who "Once Was"
Do me no wrong and he finds himself walking a very fine line between love and hate with the world. Do me no right and he’ll find himself skipping between flames forgetting about the pace at which your toes scatter the fragments in the imaginary barrier between us and the rest. Some people fall in love in time, some people take other options and I swear I can’t make up my mind on what...
August 2010
2 posts
Do As You'll Do For Me; That Sinners Can Never...
I don’t believe in the stars around here, and I don’t believe in the things you fear. Just give me strength, give me time and give me you. Now. Heaven and hell is nothing and concept goes far without a trace of truth behind it. If you see the light in front of you on a cold cold night then come up and see me. You are the only one I will follow and I’m already walking the line....
jon’s cellar, barcelona,cannon cameras,sketchbooks,ray ban’s,polo shirts,coffee,macbook pro, nights in,nights out,un opinionated people, romance, jam, grandad shoes, beards, ££ ,personality, pear drops, Bailey ♥
July 2010
10 posts
Tumblr Requirement.
Come now, just for a minute, cut the bullshit and stop still. Assess the situation. Sit under the clean sheets that continue to cling to the blood stains that you still have no recollection of when they arrived or how. Think about what you’re doing. Then, quit. Cut it out, clean sharp cut. Just sit and think about your material possessions. The clothes you want, the money you wish you had,...
The Lost Books.
The Lost Books are confusing, until you’re there. You see them, but you probably don’t read them, until afterwards. Their home is not lost, but vague, and the soul of it has gone. Home sweet home? Not quite, but with help of two friends I can try and get the books back together with their hearts. Hopefully. This will make more sense to you very soon.
Without You. I'm Boring.
One.
How can you feel when standards are slipping? When you remember how things where before now, but then you remember how things were before that, or even the darker side, during that? Before I met you, I used to long for a relationship, another half, a tradition. My relationships wouldn’t last, but they’d last longer than now, and I damn would be upset when it inevitably fucked up. Then...
Let us pose a problem
I have a million ideas and a million things to say to you and to him and probably to a whole lot more people but I cannot find the word to make you all happy.
You will be seeing me shortly, by then I will know.
Apple Juice.
People can predict the future because they’ve already been there. Everybody is ageing backwards. Da ja vous is all just a memory. People don’t learn from mistakes, they just relive them. History always repeats itself. People get their ideas from things they have already done and other ideas from what other people have already thought of in years to come. Clever creatives don’t...
SuperSuperficial.
As Andy and Edie famously stated, an artist is someone that produces things that people don’t need. I’ve become accustomed to the ins and outs of living in a world where material is key, second only to the fact that both creative types and dull fuckers are dead set on pretending this statement isn’t true. The depth of the piece is in the contemplation, the questions posed, and...