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Thank you for the feedback. I love feedback, especially if it’s critical.
I realize the photoshopped picture of a woman suggestively licking a baby’s foot is perhaps jarring. In fact, I made it and posted it for that very reason. I create images, poetry and art meant to be unsettling. And, hopefully, a tad more nuanced than plain ol “creepy.” This aint pedophilia. That would be unfortunate. Maybe I should change the woman’s face into a skull?
So, why would I cross contaminate a sweet innocent baby with sex? 
My stimulus behind making this image is the incessant marketing of babies and children, whether it be mothers on social media or giant corporations on TV. People really think babies are incredibly special. It’s kinda like how Christian rock bands sing about lovin’ Jesus so much you begin to question if they‘re trying to get into Jesus’s pants. 
Besides this little “vague” piece isn’t about how awesome babies are or aren’t. It’s about a couple that can’t have a baby, living in a world where people constantly, thoughtlessly, bark, “When you gonna have a baby?”
I guess I tried not to be too obvious. I tried to make it a bit of a puzzle. Perhaps I’m trying to sell you something like people on facebook try to convince everyone their life is wonderful, or the TV ads try to infect you with a strange longing for an item you didn’t even know existed. Cupcakes for the unconscious. A fever dream. A completely random thought. A funny joke remembered at a funeral. 
I do like your implication that I’m not awake when I make such things. That it’s all some unconscious creation. Maybe I am just a puppet acted upon by a lurid mad muse designed to infect reality with an insane thought virus. That sounds kinda fun. Perhaps even interesting.

Thank you for the feedback. I love feedback, especially if it’s critical.

I realize the photoshopped picture of a woman suggestively licking a baby’s foot is perhaps jarring. In fact, I made it and posted it for that very reason. I create images, poetry and art meant to be unsettling. And, hopefully, a tad more nuanced than plain ol “creepy.” This aint pedophilia. That would be unfortunate. Maybe I should change the woman’s face into a skull?

So, why would I cross contaminate a sweet innocent baby with sex?

My stimulus behind making this image is the incessant marketing of babies and children, whether it be mothers on social media or giant corporations on TV. People really think babies are incredibly special. It’s kinda like how Christian rock bands sing about lovin’ Jesus so much you begin to question if they‘re trying to get into Jesus’s pants.

Besides this little “vague” piece isn’t about how awesome babies are or aren’t. It’s about a couple that can’t have a baby, living in a world where people constantly, thoughtlessly, bark, “When you gonna have a baby?”

I guess I tried not to be too obvious. I tried to make it a bit of a puzzle. Perhaps I’m trying to sell you something like people on facebook try to convince everyone their life is wonderful, or the TV ads try to infect you with a strange longing for an item you didn’t even know existed. Cupcakes for the unconscious. A fever dream. A completely random thought. A funny joke remembered at a funeral.

I do like your implication that I’m not awake when I make such things. That it’s all some unconscious creation. Maybe I am just a puppet acted upon by a lurid mad muse designed to infect reality with an insane thought virus. That sounds kinda fun. Perhaps even interesting.

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When I was a kid I used to have these elaborate funerals for inanimate objects. I was a bit of a weirdo who played by myself alot. I was always making up stories, drawing pictures, usually something about a hero that was marooned in a strange world.
Anyway, the first funeral I performed was for empty box of Cap’n Crunch I’d found on my way home from school. I was wandering around the creek taking my time when I saw a empty box of Cap’n Crunch by the bridge. I got excited for a second thinking it might have some actual Cap’n Crunch left in it. And when I scrambled over to pick it up, the way the box was torn, it made the Cap’n look kinda sad. And for some reason I almost started crying. So, I took the Cap’n home and I had a little funeral for him and buried him in the back yard.
Those people must have thought I was crazy. I lived with a young couple, I guess they were my foster parents. I use to bury their stuff in the back yard. Little figurines and pictures. Sometimes their clothes.

When I was a kid I used to have these elaborate funerals for inanimate objects. I was a bit of a weirdo who played by myself alot. I was always making up stories, drawing pictures, usually something about a hero that was marooned in a strange world.

Anyway, the first funeral I performed was for empty box of Cap’n Crunch I’d found on my way home from school. I was wandering around the creek taking my time when I saw a empty box of Cap’n Crunch by the bridge. I got excited for a second thinking it might have some actual Cap’n Crunch left in it. And when I scrambled over to pick it up, the way the box was torn, it made the Cap’n look kinda sad. And for some reason I almost started crying. So, I took the Cap’n home and I had a little funeral for him and buried him in the back yard.

Those people must have thought I was crazy. I lived with a young couple, I guess they were my foster parents. I use to bury their stuff in the back yard. Little figurines and pictures. Sometimes their clothes.

Tags: prose fiction
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Is this what Pitbull’s songs are about?

Is this what Pitbull’s songs are about?

(Source: memewhore, via joost5)

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I’ve started a new blog where I am immaculate with the sad details of an abandoned birthday cake. I spend my lunch break shuddering alone in a catatonic haze, but then I think of you. I think of us.
I think of how we didn’t care enough to slaughter each other with mystery. We played it safe. Because we were afraid or something. I forget the who what why. I can assure you, though, it was terribly important. It’s always terribly important, this wonderful future, this grand party we are planning for ourselves.
Kisses like silverware left in the drawerdusty birthday candleslonging for song
Fires unsungcakes unmadea smeared forgotten nothingopening presents

I’ve started a new blog where I am immaculate with the sad details of an abandoned birthday cake. I spend my lunch break shuddering alone in a catatonic haze, but then I think of you. I think of us.

I think of how we didn’t care enough to slaughter each other with mystery. We played it safe. Because we were afraid or something. I forget the who what why. I can assure you, though, it was terribly important. It’s always terribly important, this wonderful future, this grand party we are planning for ourselves.

Kisses like silverware
left in the drawer
dusty birthday candles
longing for song

Fires unsung
cakes unmade
a smeared forgotten nothing
opening presents

Photoset

Wow. This is a great lecture that touches on a lot of things, but mostly it deals with gender inequality and what white male privilege truly is. It was a “Aha” moment for me. Even though my unPC middle aged white dude mind thrashed around a bit. Gender Studies?! Ugggh! Srsly though. I challenge everyone to watch this video. Sure its long. Hour and a half, but you can skip the intro. Its engaging and enlightening on so many levels.

(Source: exgynocraticgrrl, via thefoolbecomesking)

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Garden Party
talking about insurancetalking about refinancetalking all the numbers
while the dream of lightsings through the treestumbling down aroundus
somewhere in the equationa toad belches
ah, this lifecan be such a tedious thingremember to dismember yourselffrom time to time
fall out of your mindstumble lost in the shadow
the bright side of the dark sidethe only successfailure

Garden Party

talking about insurance
talking about refinance
talking all the numbers

while the dream of light
sings through the trees
tumbling down around
us

somewhere in the equation
a toad belches

ah, this life
can be such a tedious thing
remember to dismember yourself
from time to time

fall out of your mind
stumble lost in the shadow

the bright side of the dark side
the only success
failure

Video

Bubblicious Baby Got Flashback. 

I’ve had a rap song stuck in my head for a year and a half. Some guy drove by in a powder blue El Camino with gold spoke rims blaring “Bubble butt sluts gonna drive you nuts, gonna drive you nuts” Is this a real song? Or am I having some kinda alternate reality flashback again.

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thoughtsofablackgirl:

Hedy Epstein, a 90-year-old Holocaust survivor was arrested on Monday during unrest in Ferguson Epstein, who aided Allied forces in the Nuremberg trials, was placed under arrest “for failing to disperse.” 8 others were also arrested.
"I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager. I didn’t think I would have to do it when I was ninety," Epstein told The Nation during her arrest. “We need to stand up today so that people won’t have to do this when they’re ninety.” Epstein is currently an activist and a vocal supporter of the Free Gaza Movement. 

thoughtsofablackgirl:

Hedy Epstein, a 90-year-old Holocaust survivor was arrested on Monday during unrest in Ferguson Epstein, who aided Allied forces in the Nuremberg trials, was placed under arrest “for failing to disperse.” 8 others were also arrested.

"I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager. I didn’t think I would have to do it when I was ninety," Epstein told The Nation during her arrest. “We need to stand up today so that people won’t have to do this when they’re ninety.” Epstein is currently an activist and a vocal supporter of the Free Gaza Movement. 

(via wolfoverclocked)

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Dude, it’s like there are patterns in the matrix! The saturated rhythm of consciousness is humping my brain. I finally understand music. It just is. No one plays it. We are all just playing with ourself. A dead god ejaculating into a nuclear furnace of nothingness.

Dude, it’s like there are patterns in the matrix! The saturated rhythm of consciousness is humping my brain. I finally understand music. It just is. No one plays it. We are all just playing with ourself. A dead god ejaculating into a nuclear furnace of nothingness.

(Source: yeahiwasintheshit, via gravyholocaustsucks)

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Charity of a Fever Dream

When I was older we didn’t have internet or TVwe only had a giant radiothat didn’t work
Inside swama family of possumsglittering with rabies
we lay in bed still and listeningthe inescapable heatlike a rock-n-roll summer
the heavy breathing the stretching achethe subsonic howl
madness bloominginside of everything

Charity of a Fever Dream

When I was older
we didn’t have internet or TV
we only had a giant radio
that didn’t work

Inside swam
a family of possums
glittering with rabies

we lay in bed
still and listening
the inescapable heat
like a rock-n-roll summer

the heavy breathing
the stretching ache
the subsonic howl

madness blooming
inside of everything