Remember you are special enough
Have a near death experience. Remember you are special enough. I got gastric flu, and it traveled through me like it was going through a bile duct from hell.
Puddles of sweat, on a stale bed, are a sign of passion gone bad. There are two reasons for it: love or shit. It’s either you sweat to the point of ecstasy, or you sweat to the point of death.
Let your fingers do the walking through the yellow pages. Even that image makes me feel unwell. A whole book of yellow paper with nothing but names of businesses, makes me think of Kafka running rampant through the city trying to find someone who is still listed, but who has moved on.
I think of myself as a sick old man, knocking on doors, hunting for a lost friend. These days I obsessively look at last photos of departed stars. Try it. You take the name and just add ‘last photo’ to your search.
Puddles of sweat, on a stale bed, are a sign of passion gone bad. There are two reasons for it: love or shit. It’s either you sweat to the point of ecstasy, or you sweat to the point of death.
Let your fingers do the walking through the yellow pages. Even that image makes me feel unwell. A whole book of yellow paper with nothing but names of businesses, makes me think of Kafka running rampant through the city trying to find someone who is still listed, but who has moved on.
I think of myself as a sick old man, knocking on doors, hunting for a lost friend. These days I obsessively look at last photos of departed stars. Try it. You take the name and just add ‘last photo’ to your search.
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A day early. Don’t worry be snappy: embrace your chains. Otherwise just carry on streaming from your couch, and make sure the stars don’t fade.I hate the rollout of online advertising, accompanied ...
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Welcome to my ant story. In my ant farm there’s a tunnel from my heart to my art gallery. I dug it eating sand. Seriously, I keep wondering whether Francis Bacon would have been so messy if he knew...
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