March 2012
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They Clash, And You Like To Watch It
She was one of those one of those heavy duty next-gen rockabilly chicks; the kind who decimates better men than you on her days off from kicking ass. Big shock of hair that gets lost in the wind, or eats the fucking sky is more like it. Big fucking everything; boots, tits, big fucking look of watch your goddamn mouth so clearly in her eyes.
You sorta know the sorta girl I’m talking about,...
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dylanotoolewriting asked: if you could pick any artist to illustrate a book of your writing, who would you choose? and what would you tell them when they asked you for guidance?
Anonymous asked: What are your favorite shades of nail polish?
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Just Don't Let Go
God, we got into a thing, didn’t we? Like a hair-pulling, lets see who can take this further, who’s going to flinch first, kind of thing.
It was like love, but harder, and faster, and deeper. Deep like philosophy, like studying great works of art.
Deep like the plunging depths of pornography, little bitches spread open screaming, mouths agape for ballgags or maybe just balls. Deep...
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WatchA moment of squirrel.
Anonymous asked: Has there ever been a girl or perhaps just an individual who repulsed you, yet captivated you simultaneously?
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WatchY’know, if you feel like it.
February 2012
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We Were Together, In A Way
I ran my hands over the bumpy green skin of her back. “What’d you want to be when you grow up?” I asked her.
Her violet eyes sparkled like daggers in moonlight. “I want to be the last person standing, when it all burns down,” she said sincerely. “I want to be the one who wins.”
She’s got sixteen fingers; a spider on each hand. She’s got teeth...
jus1mo-deactivated20120420 asked: Are your murderous ecstasies premeditated or do you impulsively stab the keys with love and flesh between the teeth?
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Lokiquacious
Today is a day for the god of mischief, which is to say, I’m gonna keep things low-key.
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High School Fictions
One of my first real experiences with becoming a writer came in high school, grade 12 as I recall.
We had to write a story for English class, just a short-story. I wound up talking to this really pretty girl who was also cruel and stupid. She was complaining that she couldn’t write a story, which I couldn’t relate to. “You just put some stuff on a page,” I insisted....
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Non-Discriminatory Sexualizing; a follow-up
A follow-up: I honestly do wish I could find more “alt-photography” and “dark imagery” that utilzied more non-caucasian girls. On tumblr it is about thirty times easier to find pics of white girls than just about anything else. It’s the same with skinny chicks; I post more skinny chicks than sexy thicker chicks, because those pics are easier to come by, I think almost...
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Anonymous asked: I appreciate your non discriminatory ways of posting beautiful women of all colors.
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See It As It Comes
I always fall in love at first sight; it’s taken me years to understand it, but I’m cool with it now.
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Love Comes Around
Yeah, I know you can take it, I can tell by the look in your eyes. You expose yourself in ways that ask me to reveal more. You lay prone so that I can see how to hold you down.
You lick your lips like you’re showing me a doorway. You touch your body like its a long, slow trip to some strange and foreign land; I won’t speak the language, but they’ll accept my currency.
...
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The Truth Is:
“Drag the truth out of me,” I suggested, as she fastened the chains around my ankles.
She wants to ignite me, excite me, to burn me alive. She wants to turn my death sequence into erotica; she wants to remember me just like this. Mouthful of broken glass. Fingers tied into knots.
She slips into my bed like a knife swimming in between my ribs. Just like the tip of the blade, she...
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Loaded Sentiments
I loved her like a gun, which is to say, as long as she was loaded.
She was edgy, double-edgy, like a switchblade smile. Yeah, she’d flash that deadly little grin around, and leave me bleeding from the throat.
“Are you enjoying my self?” she asks me, looking up from the pornographic death-scene I’m writing her into. She loves the way I love her body, the way I love her...
Anonymous asked: Does your family/girlfriend ever say anything about the content on this here blog of yours?
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My Heart Loves Pain
Contradict me. Lie to me. Abuse my trust.
Take a bunch of words I said, and twist them into startling new paragraphs lined with birdshit and prison bars. Wrap my words in barbed wire and shove them down my fucking throat.
Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like to see me gag on all those clever things I was saying so subtly.
She was the girl with the ice cream heart;...
heartuntamed asked: Numbness is comfortable. Too bad no one thinks it suits me.
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EVIL POPE URGES YOUTH
I once read “Join the fight against evil, pope urges youth,” as EVIL POPE URGES YOUTH! I read it and thought, “Huh. Guess the Evil Pope’s up to stuff again;” a block later, I remembered that there is no Evil Pope, that I just assuem that there’s always opposites.
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Anonymous asked: If I write you a story, will you make a video reading it?
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From the burnt-out cities where lovely monsters...
Hear our cries, for we are hungry and we are beautiful and we are merciless.
We have climbed from the wreckage of a fallen word, and painted ourselves gaudy and bright with the neon blood of the cloned dinosaurs that would rule this world if not for the sharpness of our swords and the sureness of our souls.
We have survived the plagues of giant bugs, of hungry spider hordes, of false gods and...
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Fuck That And Fuck You
I bleached my hair white and listened to Nirvana real loud, slumping my shoulders and staring at the ground wherever I went. “What a fucking loser,” some girl said, and another chimed in, “what a cliché.” It was like a wet dream of social masochism.
I wore a big black trench-coat in the middle of summer, with black button-fly jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt that...
Boda de Sangre: Sunny day in Boston, a slight... →
Oh my god. I just fell in love with you.
bodadesangre:
Sunny day in Boston, a slight chill in the atmosphere. The air, dry as a nun’s cunt, promoted static electricity as I wiped myself after a morning piss, which caused my esophagus to contract, and a yelp of agony that traveled up my throat and shot out of my mouth, shattering the thin layer of ice…
