I gaze out of the window in the drunken hours -
a battered ford Mondeo looms out of the darkness,
unmoving on the pavement, reassuring and ghost-like.
Bob Dylan is my only friend
And yet we never met
But I know he is a man like me
A man not afraid to dream
I am of those terrible men
Men that are in love with love
Like Romeo I am afflicted
A cat that masters jujitsu wanders through the streets of Manila, searching for its next student
I lay awake, dreading the cold the morning will bring,
My mind adrift, trapped in perpetual motion,
A locomotive steaming around infinity.
“Do you love your mother?” She asks me,
“Then shave it off!”
Gallery - Illustrations by Vicente O'Neil
I knocked twice gently and look behind me, when I turned back the door was open. Standing in the door frame wasn’t the dealer, but his daughter.
The ugliness of rough markings made by drunk hands touches me. It appeals to my self-intoxication and self-depravation. Not all resemble such depravity, some passionately written, tell the tales of different tones, probably portraying a love that has already ended.
Constantly drugged by our brains, controlled by molecules so small we have to take it upon faith they are there. Dopamine, serotonin, endorphin, norepinephrine, hundreds of molecules simply there to make you feel good. When we feel things, when we fuck, when we fight.
From the bosom of an edgy year, 2016 provided some amazing pieces of culture despite the socio-political strife of a post-truth society.
The myth of the Tower of Babel tells us we humans were once united as one. We wanted to reach the heavens and become gods by building a tower. God saw it as an insults, and as a punishment for our attempt, we were condemned to develop different languages.
To all the self-righteous judgmental cunts out there who want me to quit, I say fuck off.
The night of the living white-wash is upon us once again, triggered by the recent release of the latest Ghost in the Shell trailer. The consistent controversy of...
I'm not going to beat around the bush; Wonder Woman is beginning to tantalise my yearly need for self-reprisal and self-loathing (watching a fuckin' superhero film).
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