Criptic Critic Conscience and Known for it

Friday, October 30, 2009

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Whatt

What does the News do.

What purpose could the need for news serve

If it had to be constrcted by an intent.

It could serve as a profoundly dressed distraction.

All of life filtered into the stories it suits a few to re-tell and 

re-tell again. 

The delberate construction of a world with a certain ballance of pain, death, light heartedness, tragedy. It's a crappy novel, It's everyday fodder. it's our news, it's our cruddy local NEWS.

What's a bomb going off in instanbull got to do with my garden.

What's a head being chopped off to do with my head

Why are there stories of violence being given to me when the threat right infront of me

isn't said. 

Howcome I have to never hear, "Here are the storeis we've been given to play by those that give us money so we have jobs doing this and in know way to they resemble reality in any way. They are the product of an imagination that can see a way to extract wealth from us all by means of teh telling of certain combinations of stories."

ahh Shakepear you Cumudgegrun, you four storied Omnibus of easy mall living, you wanred us, chasitced raised in bubble bath, teh simple towers of before now us in the beofre of a fallen rich to teh bottom. 





Friday, October 16, 2009

I once jesrked off for 6 hours. 2002

I had noticed that some how I had been building up for it , already most of the way through it, and knowing i had nothing else planned for the rest of the day, I remebered earlier I had gone quiet easily for  straight hours, with out really noticing, no drugs, no stimulents. Just desire, time and means. I was the human milk machine, milking myself and it might of well as been the entire sky..   Now let me be clear hear, no lubricants (other than my own spit), no chafing or pain factors, just careful gently stroking, stimulting, beating sitting on the edge of my seat for hours in a trance, musles pulled tightly entire body still, errect caught in the fabric of time and working her, it the fabric of friction, a noticing

Fireworks are whose orgasm.? 

Not mine. 


Fireworks are Simulated Warfare don't want to get involved. 

67 cum stained A4 sheets of paper.

Gambia Castle. 2007

I Am the

  Lizard King

of Life & Death,

Not a reptile you

see but a flash

of Light, in

the Galaxy of

Sudden Births, a

Flash of lights,

  alluminated. Gone.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009