I hate how they just come bursting through door frames, ushered in by particular sounds that just seem like they were waiting in the atmosphere to produce, months after the initial decibels, an echo. That same vibration brings the same feeling, with less momentum cuz initial impact was like death and now, its residue.

meet up with me, meet me half way

find me in the middle of messy mind frames and the bedroom, dirty mirrors.

In the heavy center where men

straddle the thick thighs of Death, with those heavy eyes and deep breaths

to take from it

plagues and suicides and a phantom ride right through it

they come to the business end of things

and negotiate the terms

but talk nothing of the payment 

the world of men turning around 
bartering for ticket out 


to meet me at the end of the agreement 
 

You know what I am a pyscho and I've thrown out my meds to feed the pidgeons' shit shit shit you've got the gun and I've been hit but when I shout my tongue is split and all that comes out is snake speak like parseltongue. So get up and read what my eyes say-- they're brown but when in a certain angle there are specks. And the specks play out like tea leaves at the bottom of the cup so you've got to read them. And when you do you'll see the hex-like sex sewn into myself, my eyes are the breeding grounds for passion. But there is a indicator in the iris that tells the truth of the illness, the intricate incident at the heart of everything evil, everything deniable and laughable till the day it comes down to it. And that day comes and it comes with a crash smash slam and a tissue to wipe away the snot. I hope you rot, I hope you die decay and disappear and drag down all the things I'm not, all the things they tell me all the things they refuse. Cause you know what? I've been used and I'm tired of you so I'm through with the bags under my eyes and my bags by the door. Cause I'll have my say and I'm here to stay and you're not. So go to hell just go to hell go to hell and rot.

I'm just sitting here thinking: I fucking love Star Wars. Since 8th grade I've been in love with the saga, especially the original trilogy. It was literally love at first sight and it was a wrap after that. I wish I was around when it first hit theaters, and nobody knew what to expect. I don't give a shit. I really am a Star Wars fan. 

“Skywalker. Skywalker.

 And why do you come to walk my sky, 

with the sword of a Jedi knight? 

… I remember another Skywalker.”

I wonder, could I be of this blood? Could I? Lost in the crossed and tangled lines of lineage, I can't help but let my thoughts linger on the lands my forefathers walked, the drinks the drank, the songs they sang.

Body art project inspired by geodes, stalagmites and stalactites, brought to life by my girls, thanks for putting up with and being part of all my endeavors! I would really like to get into more elaborate and sexy body art, it's so fun to work with a living thing and  to paint on skin.

Pink Panther