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i can feel
need some artsy friends...........Salem's so empty...........and feels nearly dead.......i do.......Salem too....
a husk with a name

becose is dead, and love is wounded, and hate and mistrust having flow freely in we weap and bare cracked teath at the ankers we so blindly hender to the young heart. filled like the striving hall of a friendly ship trying to stay with the wormth of a meal, mostly hot air, trying to pass the tareings off we blindly let rind in the blind poision of a still dieing demon loged in the heart. a pure thing perversed we weap and claw at the fool trying still to dig deap lost and blind. cut me loose if it helps you flout ferther, and still finding the fools pain being milked by lust, and knowing that lust a joke. besides the flouting pure gold of what was and still leting go of a better self for the fletting of noisy bright bells, liers nosie. we shoud know better for the world being full of fool teachers telling truthes and thinking them jokes. we weep finding only that we lost the path but we make a fool of the truth, and it bleeds and crys but the lier in the devil brain gets us, the qwick and the fast the the sad always rolls out the stone, and with perfound mocking laghter mistaken for a more perfounder truth then the one we sheared. in the first place mocked by god damed sinking ankers draging us down, we turn to dead clay beliving the heat we remenber is happeing now, and not just being dreassed up and struted around as some cheap hore, poleshed but bruken. sckreaming for rest and repreave from a perveras onslot of the false sun rising a cold light, a lieing anker, glagher, and pridfull, stupid and hidden, and oh so bint trying to stand but the cruch is a lie too, and lets us drop more deeper into the secrit dark, lost and having no way back we lie deeper and deeper into the dark, knowing the truth. easy as pie but painful as the captians wip. asleep and drunk scraping the buttem agine, and agine, and agine, and agine, as the salt pours in and we call it sweat blise, but salt in salt out, calling it gold. oh we are fools for not beating the feet that blindly step about the dark, crashing in glee the lovely pure happy deancing joys that we bore about the ankels of towers, we think we are shaking to the crashing beat, the war below, and if only we could see the death around the feet we called awer foundashion. so we lie, and lie, and lie, and lie, and lie, getting blinder and blinder, beliving that we are so high nothing can touch us. were god, we belive, more and more the heavy the chain becomes, teathering us to the bouttem, killing any chanch of flyit and reaching that lofty place we belive we are ocupiing but thats just another lieing dream so we weak clay crawl and fall and cromble and bleed and brake and strive wyil still liveing bound by lies trying to fly to fit to grow to clime to be better but bound by a bleeding chain hooked in the heart we made with love scraping the bottem and still the greatist fear of all the truth so we hide and bleed and say this is good this is life this is right the truth become a gun pointed at this life we let get so wrong and sick still keeping empty laghter ring real and pure making the pure a sick painted hore pumped and proded to dance the way the living do but the pure is coming apart the spiling suwige poreing forth makes us weep and bear week teeth made of fear and shaem eating all the sick up getting fat off posein saying its sweet but the pain and the sweat bleeding out of awere holey hearts cant be held back for long so we fall with nothing left but a bleeding truth a lie a husk with a name.
to make more art... or at lest up-lode some more.
stuff''s happening...i well be more in-depth later:0
  • Listening to: oomph! - Atem
  • Eating: pure two year old apple shit
  • Drinking: pure two year old apple shit or

sorry all you lovely fucks that could not get a hold of me.
it needs to burn with art.

im so tired of it all sometimes.

the way it passes off as life.
  • Listening to: Classix Nouveaux- never again
get nude for Tyler and get all painted up?!
i am of line hope to be back soon! miss you all and lots of love!
im losing my mind.
Boot lickin, piss drinkin, fingerfriggin, tit tweakin,

love bitin, arse lickin, shit stabbin, mother fuckin,

spunk lovin, ball bustin, cock suckin, fist fuckin,

lipsmackin, thirst quenchin, cool livin, ever givin

go on and do it!
no not any one person at all.
How do we begin with this subject as it pertains to the arts and its spin offs? For it is so vast a thing, both problem and friend, instrument and weapon. Are we weak? If being confronted by that that is in conflicts with aware general breed or upbringing, what excise do we have to hide in fear? I mean to say that in the fear or reversion that comes up from seeing. is there a something secret seen in this reaction? How do we deal with this reaction? When it is found and if we feel not a thing (or more)? So this fearful/pain/reaction does that just mean we feel not because of having become numb and unfeeling before this generalized monstrosity, making employed the beholder the monster for this whatever thing seen apart of you in being beheld?

Perhaps that is itself a big part of it, that the images before you well some how have power over you in the seeing. Let's say if we saw sex of some form and felt this reaction of reversion is it that indeed it is we at some base part of self that we wish to have this seen thing happening to us, or for us to perform this seen act upon another? If so, can this same line of thought be fallowed on thro the other states of taboo? Such as differing states of sexual expression on
down to rape, murder, torture, racism, incest, drug use, or any other form of
unacceptable thing portrayed that that comes upon the mind. Then also is that thing you see as I speak that that comes to your mind, what was it and why dust it come to be there? How does it make you what you are and if you deny that it's
important to you even though it is bad in a scene it has power and you cant grow if you deny that part you.
what would you like to see burn?
  • Listening to: A SIGHT TO BEHOLD
  • Drinking: THE LADY
  • Listening to: A SIGHT TO BEHOLD
  • Drinking: THE LADY
remember the roots
and the seeding of pride.
the forest and the swamp.
don't forget the human hunger,
to fill the void, inner and outer.
the myths,
And the human shadow.
  • Listening to: powerless
  • Reading: ta art
  • Watching: the art
  • Playing: with the art
  • Eating: cheese
  • Drinking: beer