reality mixes with thought
dreams and/with nightmares
i’m riding waves of insanity
and it makes me feel so scared
don’t look for problems when there aren’t any
hyperchondriac fantasies?
leave it alone it might heal itself
just get it away from me
the man watches through the window
when i know that he’s not there
he closely follows my every move
i can always feel his stare.
i can’t ignore him he hates me
i can feel, he wants me dead
so when i’m dead remember me
remember what i’ve said
tall dark man, hat, holey gloves.
(stalker watches me
trails me home
watching waiting
til i’m alone.)
– started writing this 2004-04-11, I guess it shows. I still like it, though.
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this is too much
the subjekt is failing under the strain
turn off the power and leave him alone
in five days ve vill try him again
– yes, you too have little evil Russian scientists running around your head. (Not that I’m casting aspersions on Russian scientists, there. Pleae don’t blow me up.)
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smell is emotion; love is devotion
travelling through london city, black towers.
happiness at room temperature(
life free of adventure)
tell the truth: no-one likes his laugh
– I found this fragment just before, dated 12th February 2004. That’s almost exactly three years ago now.
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no point in moving forward
when your eyes are placed behind
the best you can do is carry on
pretending that you’re not blind.
– truth.
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So, on a photography-related slant, I’ve just bought five rolls of 120 film for my new Holga. Here they are, in all their glory:
Expect notes (and hopefully photos) on how they compare. This is my first adventure into non-DSLR territory, so I don’t really know what I’m talking about yet, but hopefully I will soon…
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a touch of poetry never goes amiss
with the contours of its words and in its subtle twist
of subtext under meaning and the meter under rhyme
the last words of a sentence close its motion over time.
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what happens when i half don’t want you anymore
when i wake up with your things strewn across the floor
and my first response is to throw them all away
until i see you and i leave it for another day
we stay together more out of habit than of taste
hoping things will improve themselves so we can save face
thinking every moment — is this when it’s gonna end?
half hoping that it is, to save this downward-spiral trend
i stay awake at night with your body next to mine
half repulsed and half knowing and almost totally resigned
to failing to say or speak my mind
i worry and think and hope that you’ll be fine
i’d still like to taste your lips
savour the texture and tang of your kiss
feel your hands run over my neck
as mine stroll down your chest.
– some words stolen from hit the street, an earlier poem by moi. this one’s turning into a song, though.
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An RSS feed of posts to any threads that I’ve posted on in the last couple of weeks.
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