FLOWERS INSTEAD OF FACES

2012-03-05T16:08:00.001Z

2012-02-28T19:23:00.000Z

i will always be a milktree

2012-02-24T20:45:00.001Z

DESTROY IT BEFORE YOU LOVE IT

2012-02-19T22:00:00.002Z

2012-02-15T16:37:00.002Z

2012-02-13T12:43:00.000Z

À nos amours (Dir. Pialat, 1983)

2012-02-10T17:15:00.002Z

anthropotheism

2012-02-09T15:44:00.000Z

JUST LOVE ME

the belief that gods began as humans and are human in nature

don't let them know that its broken don't let them know that you broke it that its rotten inside

2012-01-28T21:39:00.000Z

2012-01-11T17:12:00.000Z

i don't know how i could explain it, that nothing makes sense and that no one is real.

i break the walls and kill us all with holy fingers

2012-01-01T20:43:00.000Z

2011-12-27T21:46:00.003Z

nobody cares that you want to die.

boyfriend

2011-12-27T19:45:00.000Z

2011-12-20T21:02:00.001Z

b wr e

2011-12-17T23:07:00.000Z

F A S H I O N is importnant in our society i like too wear my girl skin dyed pink i lactate to feed inanimate objects that i call my children 『シミ』、あきらめないで。
http://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=959286

2011-12-15T22:02:00.001Z

fuck you.

2011-12-10T13:07:00.002Z

unadoptable.tumblr.com
those who greet you on your first day in heaven

2011-12-09T17:01:00.002Z

matthew i'm in love with you!

daniel

2011-12-07T16:31:00.002Z

Karla Black

2011-12-05T20:51:00.000Z

idk

2011-12-05T15:53:00.002Z

i dream of a night where

the snake curls around herself

sewn to the sky by their skin

the stars hang

veins draw from the moon and the moon is her beating heart and the girl on the grass floor and there is no resolve and the stars are now indifferent

in the day they sleep in star houses with star kitchens and star swimming pools

depressing flowers

2011-12-02T20:47:00.000Z

her body is mechanically reclaimed

my body is like god

2011-11-25T17:32:00.000Z

desperately attempt to create a personality for yourself i like the colour green but i tell people my favourite colour is sage because i like how that sounds and when they ask me what i take my brand of anti-depressants for i say anxiety because i feel as if being anxious is more acceptable than being depressed i keep thinking nothing in a room with my family i feel no connection the word 'sister' makes me uncomfortable she has brown hair she dies it blue

2011-11-17T22:22:00.002Z

the only thing different when the world ends will be that the world has ended

put on your prettiest dress to run around in the street by yourself

2011-11-12T22:56:00.000Z

spirit animal

2011-11-10T19:39:00.001Z

Bundy claimed he abducted Culver and took her to a room at a Holiday Inn, where he raped her and drowned her in the bathtub. He said he dumped her body in a river.

2011-11-10T17:22:00.002Z

emere a child who can travel between the spiritual and physical world at will. A negative connotation is associated with the word, as it implies that a family's child may disappear and reappear at will. The impatient emere wants the best of heaven and Earth. An emere is a spirit in disguise, misrepresenting death as life, and is clever enough to disguise his objectives. Believed to be more powerful than witches, they most often die on a particular day of joy. On wedding days, when having their first baby, etc. depending on the degree of happiness the event might cause. They are also believed to be extremely pretty, and have seductive powers.

The emere gives unconditional support to heaven while on earth, distorting the balance of power, betraying Earth and its followers, annoyed that Earth did not allow visitors from heaven.

rpe

2011-11-01T18:30:00.000Z

it felt as if blood were pooling inside me and he was keeping the blood inside and the terrible ache and the swolen heart my lungs burst under the pressure my organs started to dissolve i tried to separate i wanted to be anything else i wanted to be the mud on the ground i lay on god removes the earth and my body falls to hell the next day and the next

2011-10-21T20:50:00.002+01:00

moon

2011-10-20T22:35:00.002+01:00

climb up onto your roof and howl at the moon
when i let my eyes relax tiny bugs move everywhere
and when i look at u i feel my whole body coming apart
and my hands go out without me
and get arrested

2011-10-14T18:16:00.000+01:00

lets form a cult
send me pictures

meat

2011-10-13T17:23:00.001+01:00

skinned calf made a bed down by the lake
this is one for you she said
as the flies licked away her heart

grandmothers closet

2011-10-06T19:32:00.000+01:00

http://angelastrassheim.com/

run outside in the desert heat get your dress all wet and send it to me

2011-10-02T19:50:00.003+01:00

bloody your hands on a cactus tree wipe it on your dress and send it to me

weeds that are flowers

2011-09-15T19:20:00.000+01:00

under angel wings you're still a skeleton
swans swim in the sewer

we're just made of shit

an eyeless and noseless antarctic collection

2011-09-11T22:17:00.002+01:00

2011-09-06T13:29:00.002+01:00

rose garden

2011-08-26T14:31:00.000+01:00

they fucked as the boy hung
on the river bed, collecting bones
the swans come back every year
they had three babies this time
but one was eaten by a fox

the story of an artist

2011-08-04T16:24:00.000+01:00

honey-boy

why are you so odd

2011-07-27T21:59:00.000+01:00

help me be interesting and pretty

2011-07-15T12:55:00.001+01:00

2011-07-12T21:03:00.000+01:00

2011-07-08T19:31:00.001+01:00

i am an awful human being

2011-06-30T21:05:00.000+01:00

we sat in the park and drank cheap wine at night sea creatures came out
a whale swims in the sky

i want to touch more nettles

2011-06-24T20:57:00.001+01:00

lull

2011-06-22T22:51:00.000+01:00

um making a zine of awkward conversations and stolen pictures of blonde children if anyone wants to write something to put in it tell me but dont worry it will take years for me to buy a printer ok thanks

2011-06-20T17:42:00.000+01:00

when she died the moon fell to the ground

and tore open the sky

2011-06-11T14:24:00.002+01:00

twitter poem

2011-05-25T15:47:00.000+01:00

the ghost returns to pick up his bones

but he cant with

ghost hands

we lie down in the field

and we fall through the earth

in the garden i took off all my skin

beneath i am a million tiny bugs swarming

butter sea

2011-05-17T21:25:00.002+01:00

butter sea

bye june - smashing pumpkins

pickup sleepy - kria brekkan

aperpareplane - (early recording) - devendra banhart

don't take my sunshine away - sparklehorse

bolt the horse - ruby throat

words - low

a bus stop on holloway rd. - ruby throat

you are my sunshine - johnny cash

pixel houses

2011-05-15T14:13:00.000+01:00

when the world ends

it's just you and me

sitting in an abandoned building

while a tree grows through us

once upon a time

2011-04-24T16:29:00.003+01:00

A very important case came to me from a man who was himself a psychiatrist. One day he brought me a handwritten booklet he had received as a Christmas present from his 10 year-old daughter. It contained a whole series of dreams she had had when she was eight. They made up the weirdest series of dreams that I have ever seen, and I could well understand why the father was more than just puzzled by them. Though childlike, they were uncanny, and they contained images whose origin was wholly incomprehensible to the father.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

1. "The evil animal," a snakelike monster with many horns, kills and devours all other animals. But God comes from the four corners, being in fact four separate gods, and gives rebirth to all the dead animals.

2. An ascent into heaven, where pagan dances are being celebrated; and a descent into hell, where angels are doing good deeds.

3. A horde of small animals frightens the dreamer. The animals increase to a tremendous size, and one of them devours the little girl.

4. A small mouse is penetrated by worms, snakes, fishes, and human beings. Thus the mouse becomes human. This portrays the four stages of the origin of mankind.

5. A drop of water is seen, as it appears when looked at through a microscope. The girl sees that the drop is full of tree branches. This portrays the origin of the world.

6. A bad boy has a clod of earth and throws bits of it at everyone who passes. In this way all the passers-by become bad.

7. A drunken woman falls into the water and comes out renewed and sober.

8. The scene is in America, where many people are rolling on an ant heap, attacked by the ants. The dreamer, in a panic, falls into a

river.

9. There is a desert on the moon where the dreamer sinks so deeply into the ground that she reaches hell.

10. In this dream the girl has a vision of a luminous ball. She touches it. Vapors emanate from it. A man comes and kills her.

11. The girl dreams she is dangerously ill. Suddenly birds come out of her skin and cover her completely.

12. Swarms of gnats obscure the sun, the moon, and all the stars, except one. That one star falls upon the dreamer.

The possibility that these dreams were conscious elaborations can of course be ruled out only by someone who knew the child well enough to be absolutely sure of her truthfulness. (They would, however, remain a challenge to our understanding even if they were fantasies. ) In this case, the father was convinced that the dreams were authentic, and I have no reason to doubt it. I knew the little girl myself, but this was before she gave her dreams to her father, so that I had no chance to ask her about them.

She lived abroad and died of an infectious disease about a year after that Christmas.

how to build a beating heart

2011-04-17T00:25:00.001+01:00

HOW TO BUILD A BEATING HEART

Fact: death too is in the egg.

Fact: the body is dumb, the body is meat.

and tomorrow the o.r

only the summer was sweet

girl

2011-04-07T18:22:00.000+01:00

2011-04-03T12:17:00.007+01:00

"Once, I remember well, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed. Alas, the gospel has gone by; suppose damnation were eternal! Then a man who would mutilate himself is well damned, isn't he?"

2011-04-02T22:49:00.002+01:00

plaster

2011-03-28T23:29:00.000+01:00

http://ikoart.tumblr.com/

unborn

2011-03-27T22:35:00.000+01:00

unborn

I imagine my milk but it will not come without a mother. Even the silver is fishes Assi-ma puts down for killing, on the wood. The sea must be near to us, how else can the pomfret travel in a bucket to our mission.

twins born of a incestuous union

It must be Friday.

I must still be a child.

2011-03-23T23:06:00.000Z

:::

2011-03-22T15:16:00.000Z

something that i am trying to write that isn't at all finished

underbite: a poem about nothing

i was thinking about how some people exist so quietly
sometimes i
sometimes i hate the words my mind comes up with

the naiad spends years creating itself to only die
i was thinking about how we exist so quietly

[the mouth parts are vestigial and the digestive system is filled with air]

sleep

2011-03-20T00:24:00.007Z

2011-03-12T13:49:00.003Z

there was nothing so quiet as the lack of you
cut me open i bleed vinegar

2011-03-09T14:24:00.002Z

2011-03-04T17:47:00.001Z

polly said,

2011-03-02T21:53:00.001Z

curdle

will edit

2011-02-27T15:19:00.001Z

if you think about anything for long enough it loses all meaning, i don't have that problem i don't think anymore like knowing that you are real and that you exist but not really understanding or believing in that
i dug myself up from out of my grave, i don't like that word "dug" couldn't find any of my organs, my chest open, bugs crawling flies completing life cycles in the place where my heart used to beat, where my lungs used to breathe . . . crawled along road side entrails dragging behind me. .. the pheasants began to follow me, what's it like to be born to only be killed? i get no reply i realise that i have no tongue. im in full decay and id cry if i had eyes
black ambulance will be here soon give me plastic flowers build my body back up with metal pieces . , the pheasants still follow me their feathers now grey

hey you know what would be funny, make a rape joke in front of a rape victim she'll love it

BODY PIECE

2011-02-11T20:45:00.002Z

stand in the evening light until you
become transparent or until you fall
asleep.

1961 summer

2011-02-10T19:58:00.000Z

we can't make things ok
it was never ok

white collar, whites eyes

he collected the televisions into the front room made a wall so that he could watch everyone keep track of everything that was happening the boy in my head
sat down on his bed and cried

2011-01-17T19:38:00.002Z

2011-01-14T12:38:00.000Z

2011-01-12T16:00:00.000Z

2011-01-12T15:51:00.000Z

we went out hunting
the field was made with her hair the sky of her skin
i pulled my nails off i sent them to you in the mail i used five stamps, they should come soon.

he waited for her, while we were out hunting

i made my body out of plastic that i found. drew on bruises, drew veins on so the blood could flow
[][]it would be easy if, [] you didn't struggle
sometimes i wonder if things would have been different if my father had loved me

2010-12-14T22:14:00.001Z

i own my own pet virus

i get to pet and name her

her milk is my shit

my shit is her milk

2010-12-12T20:56:00.000Z

what are little girls made of?

2010-12-10T12:31:00.000Z

ALMOST A CORPSE

AND I MYSELF,

dead blue whale and fetus washed ashore

2010-12-09T21:31:00.001Z

2010-12-08T22:04:00.000Z

daphne wright

2010-12-07T16:04:00.001Z

2010-12-07T12:47:00.001Z

Maenad

2010-12-03T16:48:00.002Z

the birds made milk
i must drink it all
lady, who are these others in the moon's vat --
sleepdrunk, their limbs at odds?
in this light the blood is black
tell me my name

Fernando Pessoa

2010-12-01T14:41:00.002Z

We adore perfection because we can't have it; it would disgust us if we had it. Perfect is inhuman, because human is imperfect.

I never meant to be but a dreamer.

The world belongs to who doesn't feel. The primary condition to be a practical man is the absence of sensitivity.

What would happen to the world if we were human?

My joy is as painful as my pain.

I'm upset by the happiness of all these men who don't know they're unhappy. [...] Because of that, though, I love them all. Dear vegetables!

At first I felt dizzy - not with the kind of dizziness that makes the body reel but the kind that's like a dead emptiness in the brain, an instinctive awareness of the void.

Yes, talking to people makes me sleepy.

I search and can't find myself. I belong in chrysanthemum time, sharp in calla lily elongations. God made my soul into an ornamental thing.

.. And I, who timidly hate life, fear death with fascination. I fear this nothingness that could be something else, and I fear it as nothing and as something else simultaneously, as if gross horror and non-existence could coincide there, as if my coffin could entrap the eternal breathing of a bodily soul, as if immortality could be tormented by confinement. The idea of hell, which only a satanic soul could have invented seems to me to have derived from this sort of confusion - a mixture of two different fears that contradict and contaminate each other.

A sort of anteneurosis of what I will be when I will not longer be freezes my body and soul. A kind of remembrance of my future death makes me shudder from the inside.

I sleep and I unsleep. On the other side of me, beyond where I lie down, the silence of the house touches infinity. I hear time falling, drop by drop, and no falling drop is heard falling.

Then a overflowing desire comes to me, absurd, of a sort of satanism before Satan, in that one day [...] an escape out of God can be found and the deepest of us stops, I don't know how, to be a part of being or not being.

In order to understand, I destroyed myself.

Fountain by Polly Jean Harvey

2010-11-30T18:04:00.002Z

Stand under fountain
Cool skin, wash clean
Wash him from me

Along comes the wind
A big bone shaker
Blows off my clothes
Completely naked
What to do
When everything's left you

Out of the blue
It is he
Vision to me
Bearing leaves
Petals green
Covers me
In all my shame

Hand in hand
He's my big man
Stays with me
Some forty days
No words
Then goes away
I cry again

On my hill I wait for wind
And on my hill I wait for wind

Dream of the Fisherman's Wife, Miranda Field

2010-11-26T11:43:00.003Z

In the middle of the month I’m ravenous, at either end I hate to say I’m
    only sleepy.

My body is aggressively telling me many people need to pass through me, as if
    I’m a helical chute in a playground.

It’s not my fault what happens when they come out the other end.

When the moon wanes, asleep, I prepare for my middle-of-the-dark-woods
     waking dreams, stranger by far than my seashore walks.

For example, my uterus shows through my outer form—cone-shaped, I lie like
     malt on a barn floor poured in a heap from a hopper.

And I am assigned a heroic task: turn the boys in the room into honey
     by morning.

It’s winter, snow covers my flowers, hot as asphalt in summer.

I’ve found my way back to nature, to where I was born, where I was meant
     to be, where I can breathe, where glistening transparent pearls on
     microscopic stalks extend from hundreds of open throats, where when you
     want and want, instead of yellow cabs, it’s hummingbirds you fail to find.

I’m braiding my husband’s DNA, his flexible fingers, tongue, tentacles, etc.,
     while he braids mine, an infinite repetition of intertwining actions in
     the floating-world mirror.

Rain on the roof rattles off endless algorithms for generating happiness.

In the gutter I find a long-ago ball I threw (blue with red ladybugs) and throw it
     harder—deep into a no-longer loved Rilke poem. I’m dressed in petticoats,
     and my erection is irritated by layers of stiff French lace.

My individuality is absorbed into the anonymity of organic detritus falling
     from the upper, sunlit layers to the lower, darker—a blizzard of aggregates
     of smaller particles held together by a sugary mucus forming one colossal
     column in the abyssal dark.

Slowly I become my own octopus-husband.

There’s a margin where ocean-consciousness is divided from dry land.

Monthly, my status as creation-pinnacle is burnished by Darwin’s thesis that
     humans evolved from lower life forms.

I’m listening to something lower than the lowest human register.

Even the flickering ceiling fan turns me on.

loneliness

2010-11-26T11:39:00.003Z

shiori matsumoto

2010-11-22T15:26:00.004Z

you have the choice between:

a) being alone forever

b) being alone forever, or

c) being alone forever

which do you choose?

drunk

2010-11-21T13:12:00.001Z

the first part of my book

2010-11-20T17:14:00.002Z

sixteen months a go nothing made sense so i decided to cut out the places that were nowhere.
three small six spot blue burnet moths flew out of me. i collected them in a jar.
six people who recognise you but won't speak to you.
we know nothing so we wait until we do. in the meantime we die and are replaced by another knowing nothing and also waiting.

the saddest grave

2010-11-20T16:44:00.002Z

simon schubert

To you I am a ghost, nebulous, ephemeral and filigree like butterfly wings. I will slowly fade.

i've got a blister from touching everything i see

2010-11-16T17:50:00.003Z

i can't stand my own mind

2010-11-12T12:36:00.003Z

we're happy here

2010-11-06T18:56:00.003Z

2010-11-04T18:45:00.002Z

whale heart. angel meat
i woke up inside her
the whole world encased within

O golden child the world will kill and eat

2010-11-01T17:23:00.004Z

the fool 2010

2010-11-01T17:00:00.000Z

warpaint, the fool.

GARRETT M. YOUNG

2010-11-01T16:57:00.000Z

http://getratr.beautiful-insane.org/q.html

It is disgusting. Why must we have bodies?

2010-10-21T17:00:00.002+01:00

illusions of life

2010-10-19T15:49:00.002+01:00

(http://beouija.blogspot.com/)

Life may be sad, but it's always beautiful

2010-10-12T18:09:00.003+01:00

Life may be sad, but it is always beautiful