unfurling
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 biting at the back of me the hornets in the sky what a stain on my heart: the flowers i stole with my hungry hands how ashamed the excruciating blue your fucked head at dawn my strange vomitous affection comparing our wounds 3 moons and the eternal sun the barren sky the water so full of dust the starving black bird and the black wanting wolf all the black ideas with atmosphere like quicksand. be still and be. in the black there is white in the darkness there is light with the smell of your cum and lavendar combined |
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why are we all here? are we seeking validation from each other? what leads us to express here and abandon our personal hand written journals? my head is a swirl of contradictions. attempting to abandon myself to chaos, to insanity, to irrationality. not feeling pleased thus far, or capable of loving myself as insane through the eyes of others. looking for someone to see me, so i can better see myself. feeling fruitless in my efforts, knowing why and not being pleased with that either."don't look there, look within". ok easy to say... begin.. here? searching for a holding bay for my thoughts, projecting them onto others for relief of personal responsibility, feeling displeased with this also. feeling displeased with generally.. everything. everything feels like a grand scheme, an illusion, a matrix. even now my typing is deliberate and odd, but i am propelled to express and i ask myself why? maybe i'm hopeful that it will bring relief, or purpose. the chance of validation will provide definition to my chaos and act as an anchor? always wanting, looking for something from another that i find hard to provide for myself. when will i feel safe? when will i be without the need to feel safe? i think i'll finish here. |
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today you blew in like an indian breeze an armful of oranges from the young dying tree that gets no light and dope in your pocket wailing some ancient russian thing you took everything i owned and threw it in the dappled sun on the patch of weeds with the spiders and their humble little webs to air out the sweat and wanting from my last lover and to "steal a bit of sunshine to bring inside" you said. i sang you a song about a child i lost that never woke from their unbeing to face me and be loved and you invited me to love you instead. i thought: how could i love you, the shape shifter, spirit-drunk in your incessant motion, the jester the child of a swolen sun afraid of my winter moons flooding out my shadows with your agressive light still, i watched you, glorious and erect in your luminosity with my full moon face borrowing your light to be seen and let you feed me the sour oranges you bought to me from the dying tree that gets no light |
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there are many reasons why i love living in the forest (and many reasons why i do not) but my discovery this morning was perhaps one reason why i love living here. i discovered why there have been a minimal amount of rats pestering my abode as of late. the reason?  that's an obvious bulge right there! and i discovered him this morning sunbaking and digesting (and he looks as though he might have just shed his skin) right next to my van. so this is my new room mate and i can honestly say i am quite happy about it. i love snakes to absoluteness and to think i have my own live in rat catcher makes me a happy forest dweller indeed! ( more of mr snakey poo ) |
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i managed to snatch a picture of the cutest goanna that was hunting in my garden earlier today. i was going to post it immediately but my mother came home with a bottle of 4 buck chuck ( what we called a bottle of cheap wine in school ) and one joint later we were gossiping with fury in the afternoon sun. such is life. < wistful sigh >aaahhh< /wistful sigh > i'm purely geeko. but we do love sunshine. ( goanna! ) |
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spring is gently approaching and after the heavy rain spell my surroundings are looking absolutely lush. ( pictures ) |
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time is passing far too quickley. so much has happened and i feel as though i need to write down the details so i don't forget them, but i lack the motivation. in short i am living in the forest in my own place. the birds are amazing and i can hear the waterfall at night. i'm in a band and i just finished recording a song for the gathering soundtrack that will be released by julian lennons record company. he also re released salt water wells in my eyes for the soundtrack. i feel overwhelmed. my new love is coming in 3 weeks and we'll see tori amos. i have no money and am being hasseled for rent. but somehow amidst it all i am excited. my heart is open and i am healing fast. |
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it's become so cold i don't know what to do with my skin. where to place it, how to sit in it without pulling at my fingers in frustration. i've taken to defacing people in newspapers, magazines in a habitual manner. you will become ugly because i say so. when on the phone i draw pictures of squares and flowers with tiny heads and long stems. sometimes i fill notebooks up with my signiature. i am still trying my signitaures on, none of them feel right, and my writing hand jerks them out in defiance. i have been searching for one since i was young and learnt that oneday it would be important for me to have one. |
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it began with a colourless fire and a vacant skull a half skull taken in and finished this was a time when i didn't have to open my mouth to eat or listen to hear everything was immediately mine and i remained quiet and still i or the taste of the wind on my wanting tongue was enough. and then it all became a hazard. i, one of many who has formed all this skin and somehow managed a heart closed the windows. i, or one of many peer at it all through the curtains of my half open hands. waiting. not wanting to wait. |
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when i first learnt to hear i tried to listen but it eventually became unbearable. the sound of the traffic on the horizon rang like churches and whales and the birds were taunting me in song about a freedom i could not share. my heart feels displaced, these hands, this head stranded like a foreigner on a slack neck. somewhere along the line i fell into a gutter and emerged covered in flesh and bone, sinew, blood and a brain. i scrub and scrub and i can't get them off. i look in the mirror and i am covered from head to toe. i am pink and bruised. i have shoulders that mold down into arms and hang beside me like deadening helium pockets. these do not feel like mine. my nose, my ears, my mouth, my cunt are all portals for things i do not want. and they do not feel like mine. i press these openings into the floor so things cannot enter. and then i remember the pores on my flesh. on my finger tips they gape large enough for me to fall into. they are wide enough to collect pleas and unsung screams painted in simple words. they are all over me and i cannot close them. they do not feel like mine to close. when there is a knock at the door it does not feel like me who hears it. and when i move towards it, it does not feel like me who is moving my legs. "hello" i say, again and again. "hello" i say, again and again. hell. oh. my tongue is a giant slug, weighted and wet. "hello", i say again, waiting for it to feel like it is mine to say. "hello" they say, knowing it is theirs. immediately it enters me, like a blunt sword. immediately my ears are copulating with "hello". i am not posessed. only a foreigner inside of here with no memory of how it came to be. i am an imposter and they do not know. this wall of layering blood and water, muscle and bone. i think of them sucking out my marrow and chewing on my flesh, like i have done to the thigh of a lamb. i think of them stuffing rosemary under my skin, of being roasted and basted and carved. i think of the remnants of a carcass that is not mine, left and done with on a plate. i think of my anatomy settling into the walls of their stomachs, amongst the acid and waste, as they speak words that they know are theirs. |
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amour_de_serpent: fondness makes the heart grow stronger amour_de_serpent: i mean absence amour_de_serpent: and fonder amour_de_serpent: lol amour_de_serpent: whatever |
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bringing in the fallen crows and those disgusting 40 sun filled days made me slacken with hate you don't know what i mean but thats ok why am i always being polite? it's not ok. i will kill you, i say, weilding a weapon. in your museum hang my breasts my cunt, ripped from the base my own doing. i shed them to distract you so you wouldn't see me leaving. i'm ill from screaming and seeing females i'm tired of what's between my legs mostly i'm tired of what's between yours the way your cock polices; erect in it's authority i won't fucking enter i'll stay outside with the mud and the whores i'll lay with them in their dirty blood and their screams of mourning and ecstacy to the dead. i will pray to satan before i pray to god and i will end up skinless, boneless, without genitals. wanted only by myself. equisite. |
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i hung upside down in that bed for years strung like a tired animal all my own doing, i will confess and you, you the strange feotus all you undid was what i have become laying there with your flacid cock waiting for the dawn, a service, your meal there was a tired string creating music all throughout the loud yearning and the full gurgling and fraudulent music a place of earth is now left a singular grave with no flowers no well wishers no witness to the funeral i can see you now burying your head between breasts and mothers milk longing for a clean place to hang your tired posessions a pretty place without the wailing of want without the yearning and the damaged snake such a simple hood and slack shelter you, you the strange feotus always wanting your milk and your meal |
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the wind blows and i'm cold how does this have any revelence? i am unable to write whilst i remain this awful lump. |
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will i be the one who reevaluates how you love? i am not concerned with spelling i am not concerned with life i lie. |
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no one comes to see me laying here in the soundless wave i have become ocean spit alien rubbish regurgitated fish guts and thick red anger i am inside out and sticky i have a coat of dust and fruit scraps large burnt seeds and unheard prayers i collect things as i go. no one can see me here laying in your road i am a weighted lump unable to move. |
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i am better and less hysterical. the tears have stopped and i have come to terms with what is, even if there will always be a part of my heart missing until she finds me again. such a fuss over a mere cat you might think, but she was eons more than just a cat. if only you knew her or could have. she was my silent strength, a symbol for something i am growing more into each day since my past life as a nun. if you can't understand that there is no need to explain. a barren womb and a demoness of the night. i will miss my lady lilith until she returns. |
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 last night my beautiful familiar and kindred panther spirit was hit by a car. phil without hesitation drove her to the emergency pet hospital where we found out that we could either pay $2000 to try and keep her alive, or euthanise her. the vet informed me that the chances of her surviving even with treatment were slim, so doing the kindest thing i knew how i agreed to have her euthanised. this grief and awful swelling in my heart is becoming unbearable. to see such a divine and firey spirit, who was so beautiful and dignified, with blood dripping from her nose and unable to lift her head was excrutiating. she lay on the table in her final moments, drifting in and out of consciousness, but as soon as they came in the room with the needle full of death she started to hiss and tried to get up. her leg was badly broken and she struggled so hard. god she tried so hard and my heart is breaking whilst i relive this in writing. i feel as though i have lost a part of my soul. this lady lilith of the night was an extention of my very core. without hesitation again my knight in shining armour drove me an hour and a half at 1:00 am to see my mother and present her with the lifeless shell of our familiar. the bond that the three of us shared was unmeasurable and my mother is grieving as hard as i am. in the morning we said a prayer for her spirit to be carried to the next life in the arms of the goddess and told her we will see her again soon. we then dug a hole and placed her mangled body in it and adorned her beautiful black fur with the sweetest smelling rose petals. i draw a circle of river water around her body to symbolise the eternal cycle of birth and death, then my mother and i took turns in covering her with earth. my beautiful black beauty, my wild panther, my high priestess. i will miss you more than anyone could ever concieve. i have had an endless flow of tears running down my face since last night, and even as i write this i am finding it very hard to read the screen through the rivers coursing down my face. my head hurts and i have not slept since this happened. my beautiful lover comes over now and then to soak up my tears with his shirt. i feel as though i have cried the worlds ocean. those tears that fall without the aid of blinking. this grief won't leave me fast enough. i want to scream into the earth. i want her back. |
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