"I'll go to heaven when you make me happy"

Fantasies about starting up a Hole covers band.
An entire hour selecting songs and the process. The costume. The crowd. The messages. The emotions. The actions. The undoing of a mask.

Land of the Free, Home of the Brave*

In recent weeks I have heard many things about the way America chooses to govern its people. I am fucking disgusted. I feel so naive. I wish to move to Brazil.

Watch me become some kind of fleeting revolutionary.

*Pending any copyright infringement.

How does it FEEL

Walked past the cinema screen. Intake. Looked just like him.

Saw an open shirt walk up the street toward my house as I got out of the taxi.

Exhale.

Red shirt. Wrong shirt. A stranger's shirt.

Remind yourself to breathe.

I was manipulated into a reaction from something innocent. How does one make another feel so much unneccessary guilt, and remain so passive and...dark. So quickly turned to dark. Claimage of undying love, and remainage of dark, still? How?

The pattern.

Stop breathing.

David Benjamin Sheery

The colours bring on nostalgia for pretty lights and quiet movies...and show some kind of freedom. The second, kalaedescopic image, reminds me of a marquezite elephant my mum had in the fimo box. She and my aunty would have craft afternoons and I'd play with the elephant, in the sun, on the couch.

BEDHEAD!

Johnny Angel

The Shrine Down the Hall

I heard the man who took these brilliant photographs speak today, Ashley Gilbertson.

"In Private Sweet’s bedroom are two trunks that the Army sent back from Iraq. Next to them is his laundry hamper. The clothes inside, still carrying his scent, have never been washed."

I have been deeply effected and almost ashamed that I never cared before.
Please read this article in the New York Times, though finding a way to travel back in time and hear it all in person is probably preferable.

Just in case you were wondering 5000 American soldiers have died in combat, 8000 from suicides after returning home.