Time Gazing

concert noise 

cigarette amps

crushing pedals with steel toe riffs 

picking guitars 

that’s how you smoke it 

if this is the Noise they said would sweep me away

they said I’d drown under, 

be carried away by 

dreamy sleepy Vocalist

drifting in the 90s 

floating on VCR tapes and rusty groovy reels of graphic melodies, 

then I was born for this

yeah, nostalgia burning a hole in my lungs. 

Missing Shadows. Nostalgia bites.

Rice is really nice and light on the stomach

I should probably eat more but I don’t wanna

I think there’s a case to be made for neo-Hardboiled modernism in this generation

With the twitter and sparse attention spans

The easier ones content is to consume the more one will consume it (most likely)

I dated someone with Bipolar once

I think about that person often and how things might’ve been different if I knew more about Bipolar then as I do now

But I myself was ignorant of my aspergers and A.D.D

I miss that person; I wish we went for friendship as opposed to relationship

They were admitted into a mental institution several times, but unlike a previous lover who seemed to always be slipping away or we never quite gelled together (another relationship which would have been better left in the friend-zone), with this one I always felt like I could be there for them no matter what

There’s something about being with a person who has their own demons. Real mental shadows that move things around. A unique bond is formed. Aliens amongst their own.

But I was not the grown up I am today and my default reaction to almost anything back then was to jump ship whenever I felt my presence was detrimental to the person I was around (whether perceived or accurate)

Rather than solve.

The funny thing is; once I knew I was an aspie; I embraced that mindset of solution orientation

But sometimes, starting things intimately and trying to revert back to more friendly parameters is impossible, I know it is with me.

So I remember a shadow of that person. Encapsuled in time, in my memory, reimagined in my fiction and art.

In my heart.

I Miss Emmanuel

Emmanuel (The Erotic Movies) and general ‘blue movies’ that used to play on the telly!

Why do I miss Emmanuel? As a young teen I first saw sexual behaviour on the TV (tube tv, clunky things they were)

How arousing they were to my little mind, the kissing (because you can’t actually shag on the tube.), They were such a big deal to my virginy mind. So human.

It’s amazing how intimacy replaces the pounding and choking online porn displays all because the act of intercourse is absent (read: ‘not allowed’).

I’m no sociologist, or sex doctor, or oncologist (and I think I’ve been reading way too many Stephellan**** blogs hence this stream of consciousness writing style), but I miss that slow humping, those funny facial expressions, the hands running up and down naked body parts, the funky music, the hilarious climax scenes.

Frankly they were all better than this ass to mouth generation of non-creative money-shot-download-for-free-over-here “intercourse flicks”

Throw Critical Thought At Me