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[10 Mar 2005|01:25pm]
I AM themarsvolta.
Add me if you so desire.
6 +

[05 Mar 2005|12:12am]
The Jacket seemed like a crazy mixture of The Butterfly Effect, One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest, and Gothika. You shouldn't see the film for it's plot, but for the sole purpose of watching Adrien Brody and Kiera Knightley make sweet love.

Image hosted by Photobucket.com
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[28 Feb 2005|07:44pm]
If you read this,
even if I don't speak to you often,
you must post a memory of me.
It can be anything you want,
it can be good or bad,
just so long as it happened.
29 +

Acid Dreams & Spanish Queens [26 Feb 2005|01:19am]
           Maids are bickering in the hall
           The day is warm
           Last night's perfume
           I lie alone in this
           cool room

           My mind is calm & swirling
           like the marble pages of an
           old book

           I'm a cold clean skeleton
           scarecrow on a hill
           in April
           Wind eases the arches
           of my boney Kingdom
           Wind whistles thru my mind
           & soul
           My life is an open book
           or a T.V. confession


    I wish a storm would
    come & blow this shit
    away. Or a bomb to
    burn the Town & scour
    the sea. I wish clean
    death would come to me.

                                         Jim Morrison;
                                         Maids Are Bickering...
                                         Hurricane & Eclipse
4 +

[23 Feb 2005|05:42pm]
The Mugwump slips the noose over the boy's head and tightens the knot caressingly behind the left ear. The boy's penis is retracted, his balls tight. He looks straight aged breathing deeply. The Mugwump sidles around the boy goosing him and caressing his genitals in hieroglyphics of mockery. He moves in behind the boy with a series of bumps and shoves his cock up the boy's ass. He stands there moving in circular gyrations.

The guests shush each other, nudge and giggle.

Suddenly the Mugwump pushes the boy forward into space, free of his cock. He steadies the boy with hands on the hip bones, reaches up with his stylized hieroglyph hands and snaps the boy's neck. A shudder passes through the boy's body. His penis rises in three great surges pulling his pelvis up, ejaculates immediatley.

Green sparks explode behind his eyes. A sweet toothache pain shoots through his neck, down the spine to the groin, contracting the body in spasms of delight. His whole body squeezes out through his cock. A final spasm throws a great spurt of sperm across the red screen like a shooting star.

The boy falls with soft gutty suction through a maze of penny arcades and dirty pictures. A sharp turd shoots clean out his ass. Farts shake his slender body. Skyrockets burst in green clusters across the great river. He hears the faint put-put of a motor boat in the jungle twilight...under silent wings of the Anopheles mosquito.

The Mugwump pulls the boy back onto his cock. The boy squirms, impaled like a speared fish. The Mugwump swings on the boy's back, his body contracting in fluid waves. Blood flows down the boy's chin from his mouth half-open, sweet and sulky in death. The Mugwump falls with a fluid, sated plop.

4 +

arabesques of broken, suppurating scars to the pearly bone [05 Feb 2005|02:18pm]
Followers of obsolete unthinkable trades, doodling in Etruscan. Addicts of drugs not yet synthesized, black marketeers of World War III, excisors of telephatic sensitivity, osteopaths of the spirit, investigators of infractions denounced by bland paranoid chess players, servers of fragmentary warrants taken down in hebephrenic shorthand charging unspeakable mutilations of the spirit, officials of unconstituted police states, brokers of exquisite dreams and nostalgias tested on the sentinized cells of junk sickness and bartered for raw materials of the will, drinkers of the heavy fluid sealed in translucent amber of dreams.


[29 Dec 2004|06:35pm]
I've never taken notice of myself missing Daytona until just now. I don't miss the psychotic room mate, or the school. What I do miss is being able to wake up every morning and walk right outside to the most gorgeous view of an ocean that I have ever seen. Riding a bicycle built for two down the beach at 8 in the morning with Jen, and then sitting on a towel picking at seashells listening to our headphones. I miss being able to walk down the road to starbucks whenever I wanted, and not being with the company of my parents all of the time. I long to hear the sound of those small crashing waves at midnight when everyone is asleep and I slip out to have a smoke. Though I'd never wanted my friends to be with me more than when I was there, and was so excited just to hear one of their voices on the phone. I had the most horrible homesickness because I didn't quite realize what I was experiencing there. I feel my chest growing heavy, so I will fix some Green Tea. mmm, liquid peace.
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