I mean love is dead in the Nietzsche-esque, ‘God is dead’ sense. Not so much in the black nail polish, swept fringe, MySpace sense. The full quote is as follows: ‘God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.’ It hits. I can’t help, despite my best attempts, to feel this way about … Continue reading Love is Dead (…in late stage capitalism)
Tag: writing
novel excerpt 8.9
“i just want someone to think i’m not stupid.” i half-cried, exasperated. “no one thinks your stupid.” he scoffed, i could tell he wasn’t taking me seriously, again. “yes, you do.” i pointed my index finger at him, he got off the sofa then and walked into the kitchen. “my fault again, i’m the bad … Continue reading novel excerpt 8.9
a conversation with myself I
I’m sad. Again? What? Yes. Is there a limit or something? Well no, but they’re getting more and more regular. What are? Your episodes. The blank-face-wall-staring, the gut wrenching realisations that life is futile and pointless, the scrunched up faces… Alright that’s enough of that. I’m sad and we need to figure out why and … Continue reading a conversation with myself I
novel excerpt 2.11
“i’m going away.” i blurted, leaning lifeless against the garden wall. “what do you mean?” he asked, lighting up another cigarette. “i... there’s some things i need to clear up. i’m leaving the country for a while, few months maybe, maybe longer. i’ve got a friend in the netherlands. you’re the first person i’ve told, … Continue reading novel excerpt 2.11
Novel Extract 7.4
“Have you ever seen Fight Club?” I clicked back into reality. “What?” I turned away from the window and looked for where the voice came from. “The film, Fight Club. have you ever seen it?” An old man across the aisle was staring at me, waiting for an answer. “No.” I managed a gruff response. … Continue reading Novel Extract 7.4
slagging myself off again 26.7
it’s too much of a good thing so it’s terrible. the worst, the way it consumes me so much more than i consume it. it doesn’t matter because none of it does, not really. i’m not a person, not really. just an accumulation of all the worst things; bad habits E numbers train station hand … Continue reading slagging myself off again 26.7
things you should accomplish before you die 27.2
sometimes the world shouts at me. i say that, i’m pretty sure its just my inner monologue. either way every now and then i am surrounded by these piercing screams things i should be doing or saying or learning or reading. YOU SHOULD HAVE AN ARSENAL OF COOKING RECIPES IN YOUR BRAIN BY NOW. YES, … Continue reading things you should accomplish before you die 27.2
another poem about sex 25.3
smoke drifting from finger tips the flames extinguished by a tongue coated in wine. it envelopes my brain, insertion and removal over and over a dizzying action in darkness. for now just a fantasy i watch like the sun. it disappears over the mountain. i’m pulling teeth until it can reappear in the embodiment of … Continue reading another poem about sex 25.3
hall of pig
The big room felt suffocating. High ceilings with heavy red curtains, absolutely everything rimmed or lined with gold. The smell of the hog roast was inescapable. I never liked hog. A polite young girl offered her tray of champagne towards me. I pick up two. She smiled and I winked at her. I only came … Continue reading hall of pig
he makes me mad 13.3
here i long to stay safe in the comfort of loving madness. the over and over sounds of skin on skin and squeezes and sighs. we settle into it a little bit too easily, all longing gazes and crossing fingers that it won’t hurt eventually. two narcissistic pessimists falling and falling and falling will it … Continue reading he makes me mad 13.3
don't listen to me, I'm young and foolish 