- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

while we wait

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

when moving from one moment to the next,what to make sense of? what to wipe off as dust? shit sparkles like diamonds under a particular light.

pufff!

all expectations blow up in smoke.

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all in our trembling hands

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

i started this drawing and realized that in the 2nd grade we got to draw our own underwater world. and my grandfather taught me how to make a squid. so this is the same subject revisited, with some Iona shoved into it. mostly the things think of themselves before i start to see them form like invisible lines on paper. in the end i am just tracing from point A to point B, vector meets direction, shrimp soup and all the rest of the sea weed.

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ghost town

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

pe care parte a oglinzii esti tu acuma? ba { fluiera }

no touch-i-i-ing.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

apoi m-a pocnit cu o bila de hartie in ochiul drept

si ascultam dreadlock holiday -

totul vine de la ∫ine

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

half dead + half sleeping : half twisted - half stirred xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx - ª -ª -º

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

monkey

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

monkey

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

monkey monkey walked up the hill,

came tumbling down the other side

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

i want less of myself and more of this . 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 0

tourist through life part II

collected triffles, maggots and more, more, more, more...

. . . if you look l o o o o o ng enough will reality start

looking like / /// your mind wants

it to ? ? ? ?

or are we pushing escapism ?

pharcide of the moon and we've got tickets to take you there

or pass out in front of the pharmacy door.

time keeps tic-ing we start tac-ing

like you can't hit the shore without crashing into other waves, pushing further

and further, and further with each wave of consciousness or unconsciousness;

{ _ _ _ _ _ }

can't keep running away from yourself and into others

feels like a stone with water sipping through its veins

take-away people

moving like tectonic plates

-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_

mirror mirror on the wall

who am i after all?

.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.

listening to coco rosie's new and i started making a collage of their pics,

and included some of the stuff that's been pilling up in ff-found folders on my computer.

handpicked memories with a touch of _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ and sprinkled with plenty of pepper.

tourist through life

with a passport for fleeting thoughts. i keep reality in broken pieces tucked inside my pocket.