no title

the extra's plea

While I was working as an movie extra I found a piece of paper folded up and stuck into an empty tea tin in a coffee-shop façade. The piece of paper said:

"The Extra’s Plea

Let’s go to Los Angeles, every-one, and when we’re there, well – we’ll make it, we’ll make it. Like the isolated and lonely and drama-filled souls baring their souls or feigning their souls on the screen for fun, and they usually hate it unless they’re smashing cars into each other. Let’s go to Los Angeles with good posture and good structure and figure out exactly what people want to buy, and we’ll do anything, we’ll walk in circles and eat shit and pray for a glance or a meeting by chance, which will, because it must, pull us out of this wretched and friendly mediocrity. Our face is always downcast, especially when we smile; our laugh is never genuine, from over-use. We have our own language, it’s very handy. The language of packages. Pre-packaged conversation is the easiest kind. Prepared beforehand for easy access, we never have to converse or interact – pick and choose. We are the depressed and the downcast, we are the pre-packaged, unknown, pick-and-choose, desperate clones, and please, please, make it, make it, because it will wash us, it will make everything better, because everything sucks and it could be so much better, if people knew our name, and our face, and asked us to do things and to be places and to pretend like we’re someone else. That’s all we want anyway.

-An Extra"

jank

trying
hand at writing

something else

augor

favorite writer, hands down:

http://www.augsdraws.com/streetart.html

grecian graffiti

Grecian Graffiti:

mini art book coming soon

sneek preview

they have stolen my things

WE SINK TOWARD THE WATERY DARK MUDDY CITY
OF NO HOPES
ASPHALT LAKE FLOWING DOWN INTO THE
RAPIDS OF NO RAFTS
IN THE SLUMBERING
CITY OF DREAMS
AND NO HOPES
AND SMILE, BABY, PLEASE,
OR DON'T
WALK WITH ME DOWN THE GENTLE SLOPE
WHERE ANCIENT FOOLS
WOULD LAUGH AND CHOKE
ON UNPALETABLE THOUGHTS
AND GREEN LEAF LAURELS
ENCIRCLED MOSTLY BROKE
HEADS BROKE UP BY
flowing streams
of thought and things
and things too
not just thought
but things

some kind of jam session

another harpy on Hades' errand

part of a wip

today this harpy took the form of a cop, who shot a guy across from my parent's house

all of you buffoons and theives

riding backseat and blasting music like madness at the world, windows down and the air is freezing - c'mon, man, don't those windows go any lower? freeze man freeze -
my mind is reeling and the lights in the night road are smiling at me, and right back at them I agree "ha-ha!" and from the back seat I lean into the front and tell 'em crash man crash - right into anything, feel the car bend crush and shatter and leak oil and bleed...

and they agree but they don't listen, so I sit back into my seat, and watch the spots of light float across the roof like sprites coming to clean up the world or maybe just look at us, and wonder...we'd be cleaned up, the three of us, washed off with a hose...

but the grey-eyed goddess said

run away (quickly)

I don't know who this girl is, but my eye is behind her

harpy