Thursday, April 29, 2010

item #0038

I imagine hate mail. I imagine answers to my own questions which are hateful and hate-filled. I imagine, so to speak, animal, geographic metaphors, played out as a rhetoric for my desire to, as it were, popularise the primitive as I define it. I am, that is to say, seeking to enter a phase of personal intoleration and spiralling-down.

Immigrant songs extended my family. We smile as people ask people about our homeland. We smile as we become, therein and thereby, ever more private, ever more in-situ. We despise robot determinists and their version of polity; with its endless invasions on TV. We emit low howls as we reluctantly view. Vacuity is their paradigm-shift. We degenerate in opposition, relentlessly.

Glasshouse x

Monday, April 19, 2010

item #9111

we are the self same bruts as every other site. our goal is to be able to have you in a situation which is closed to every other part of our lives.


Sunday, April 18, 2010

item #0010

[groaning] The sadist has water in his hand. His hand is enough just for one. His chair stands beside that of my father’s. (There is something loving about that gesture.) I am, as ever, unevened, the product of their endearment. In turn, I flush out their indications, with animal regard - me, the dangle, the imaginer, facing all this dependency. My very life closes his hand, and I am around him, the philosopher, like an insect. I loved how small it all was.


Friday, April 16, 2010


Humane brain weigh.

100 billion.

Neuro wire.

Some excel.

item #0881

Truly, heavenly darling, I regard you prior, and my contributions in you are apostle and compulsive. God's auditorium is filled with body-boxes for your convenience. Some are able to give more than others. Some give anything Jesu. I am more, and lie within your right view, I think, as treasury. Your temples amount the money, USA.


Tuesday, April 13, 2010

item #0303

I despise being with my husband, with whom I do not normally even make eye contact. We have an irregular arrangement based only upon practicalities, devoid of love. Last night I was made to post humiliating photos of my husband.


item #0708

Someone here... hi. I need to grow but you make me crawl

Monday, April 12, 2010

item #5555

in out release. i sometimes clone expiry. the gods are so kind with my tragic laughing. it is written as we know. my situation points out the theory but still i theorise. your situation is different. whereas i want to get something out of what i do you constantly return, motivated in circles. chicken? egg?

omelette x

yes, i know i’m hormonal