Today I found out a few things. I knew the “things” all along to be honest, I just hid them away with denial and hope. But hope never lasts and fades quicker than the rain dries, so I guess I was stupid for pretending I was stupid in not knowing. But I know now. It’s confirm. The ashes have burned, the graves have turned, and “hopefully” my lesson is learned.
Anna Blume is a visual poetry about the lust of a man chasing a woman. The story takes on surreal journey dictated by the mind of the poet. Lust and ingestion, disguised in love, drive the two characters to an end where love turns to be a very lonesome and strange place. The film is based on and inspired by the emblematic love poem from 1919 “An Anna Blume” by Kurt Schwitters.
The salt fish leaves a stench in the fridge as it works in only moderate conditions. This humid weather gets to everything eventually and I leave it to share an odour with the rest of the food while I go level below to the freezer, as ice cold as you’d expect it to be. I satisfyingly pull out a green bottle from its contents and break the cap open with my bare teeth. That bitter taste bubbling in my mouth sets me back to the sofa I slouch upon as I drift in and out of reality to the world where my own imagination lay.
"I AM SO SORRY" (2011, Short Film)
This is the most powerful short film I’ve seen.
I was wishing for such a long time for you to come and hold my hand. I would hold my arm out in front of me just hoping for you to come by to take it in just a few shorts seconds. The love I gained from knowing your name was far greater than I’d ever experienced and your eyes would set me back a century at a time.
For you though, I was nothing more than nothing. You wouldn’t even look twice if I fell down dead in front of your beautiful eyes. And because of this, although I so desperately wish to fuck you, all I can ever bring myself to say is “Fuck you!”
A damaging day. Oh, how it is a damaging day. I don’t know whether it’s my body getting sick of it, the negativity it’s brought, or even my age, but I cannot seem to handle it. I have crumbled.
Gloomy, grey, clouds at their darkest, newly furnished. The chilly air and the smell of airs moisture, the whining birds, the statue trees, the boring view, the bland appeal; the awareness of how the same world seemed different but the same and nothing less than exciting. All we need now is the rain. The rain will be the perfective ending to this predicament.
I have half a reason to believe this: the weather is all because of me, me and my downfall. To be honest I shouldn’t be so hard on myself as I never said I was quitting full stop but I liked the feeling that it was heading that way. Yes, once in a while, say every drastic rainy day now and then I thought I would dabble, but I haven’t. I wanted to carry this on. I wanted to free my mind and be free of all things bad. I want to be one of the very few young bodies that have no substances in them.
I just feel like a train wreck. If I could slip myself from under my covers and step outside the way I am dressed now, with nothing but a pair of knickers on, I doubt people would acknowledge my existence. I feel and look so in tune with this weather’s mood and bringing that I could blend right in like a tree hiding behind another tree.
Both noses are blocked; I always seem to forget the lost lasting effects of this. It was good… well it was ok, but was it worth it?
No I don’t think it was to be honest.
I didn’t go places as it wasn’t strong enough, and if I was still taking k on a regular basis and someone gave me it in my sleep, I would not have the fuzziest about it. I’d wake completely clueless. The process was nice though as well as the taste of it. It’s always the strength with me. It is always mixed. 100% guarantee but you just don’t know the ones that are too mixed. Too mixed to do anything. That’s what fucks me off. Its like sex without an orgasm… any orgasm. Like taking a shit without hearing the splash. An award is handed out but the reward is taken so in my books it’s worthless. They say, “be grateful for what you get!” Hmmm well I’m sure they wouldn’t say that in this situation. I would have preferred nothing. The snow should stay in Alaska while the sun chooses its holiday here.
The rain is falling down as hard as ever. The indoors stay settled and silent. You’re delusional and dried up. Tired and sore, my mind is clogged too. Knowing the general right from wrongs but not how to succeed from them makes us both match up in different ways, yet succeed on different levels. Maturity is one; I have something that you lack. Certainty is another, I see things that maybe you don’t. Blissful birds singing about murder but we don’t understand, we just hear what we wish to and smile to the sound. Pineal glands stay closed but are the most open thing about us.
There is no such thing as weird, just the delightful.
Prime purchasing and secondary hearts conduct bittersweet feelings and candy flossed thoughts. Minds stay unfocussed. Come fluoride- keep on washing us keeping us all detached. The winds of change have left and yet we have no clue of what it gave us.
Palm to tip is stiff as your mind is let loose. This timid consciousness is confused now. You have confronted the demons. While the air is still warm you must grab hold of the light.
I have the urge to steal. Steal valuable possessions or even material things of no value but of personal importance. I just want to feel overwhelmed with power for once. Stealing hearts is not so fun like it used to be. I end up only stealing lust anyway. But since falling in love, I have only managed to steal happiness from both of us accidentally.