biscuit's dreaming; clouds above its head

Things were rough for it before, but things have cleared up. I've gotten to watch it blossom into an active and sociable adult.  Wouldn't it be funny? Promising young person, she told me, in spite of it all. Wouldn't it be funny? I've scheduled the programme far into the future. And I dream of making a space for these people. Wouldn't it be funny? He waved and smiled at me from the front of the room when the announcements were made.  Wouldn't it be funny? Would you regret your choice if... Would you be annoyed? You stopped your life just to be with me. Wouldn't it be funny? Not even a little bit? Would you feel mad at first? Would you feel sad after? You'll have to tell me what happens. I won't be able to see for myself, obviously. What would happen if I did it? Would you rather hear that it happened peacefully? Or how would you feel if you heard that I suffered to the last second? Wouldn't it be funny?

  is it not enough? you're a little too old for youthful rebellion, you say. my pleasure nerves are shot and grey i think you've bitten me, little one and I don't like the way your teeth feels there's stillness in atrophy and I think what you and I have,  maybe you don't realize it, but it's going away

23/02 Mon + 23/02/26 Tues | gunk + ink toner   cleaned out the disgusting yellow liquid that accumulated at the bottom of the fridge. i feel like throwing up. i have lite germaphobic tendencies. my stomach is CHURNING! What the fuck is wrong with this fridge? i realize i probably shouldnt leave the broccoli in the fridge in an area where the bleach fumes can reach it. today i'm playing catch up with my responsibilities while still sort of easing in. its a soft working day. tonight i plan to walk around and write lyrics. this week will be a little bit busy. work starts and i'll have to start recording my hours down again, decide on an office space. i wanted to take another professional staff photo with my blonde hair but i can't remember how i booked the services last time and besides i'm not very pleased with how i look at the moment weight-wise. starting my grueling two meals a day routine as well - everybody's doing it, its normal! cereal at 11am, broccoli, sausag...

    22/02/26, Sun | Off the Interislander i want to sort of revive this blog as a sort of grounds for infrequent journalling. this may just be like a halfhearted impulse after just finishing reading laura jane grace's autobiography - I want to leave a trail of momentary records in the chance I forget what kind of person I am! I won't let myself forget the perverse, bitter and passive aggressive thoughts that make up myself - moments of joy also permitted. I thought of physical journalling as a first instinct - I've only ever filled a small little book with a leather cover - which I believe I reserved most often for shitty sketches - many self portraits in pen. some drawings from said journal are archived in a previous post I believe. I don't really actually like writing with pen. My handwriting - chicken scratch and scrawl. I then remember I have this site, and the convenience of a keyboard. So I sacrifice a bit of privacy - the only course of corrections I must steer m...

scream out to the valley that things are fucked and unfair poking burn spots with the fag against my ingrown hairs in-between the sealed up cuts on my arms that start to glow red as my body starts to rise in temperature strike like matches you can wake up early in the morning when you have a good reason to need to the landscape scales steeply, with it's contours holding it's insides like an empty bowl the hill is too sloped to jump off of reminds me of back home take too many parts apart, have to reattach a few come back home to the last night I spend with you your things are being put in a box and your things will be moving in soon too many things being taken out too much things moved to one room the death stairs eyes it's next victim the flowers coming into bloom about twenty or so days until I see you days getting longer, things not getting any worse things not getting any better. things not getting less hurt thistles caressing my legs, sun missing my eyes god knows god...

what's another tranny in a hole extol virtue expectance must fight for acceptance liberation only gained when liberation is for all but i keep myself locked upppppp heads will roll your own respirator first in emergency others second urgency worst at the first step its because i got a death wish i try to avoid anyone that comes too close youd think reflexes from a soulslike i've never played the game the adversity of avoiding your death is too tiresome what's another tranny in a hole my mind wanders from its source heads will roll what's another tranny in a hole what's another tranny in a hole one more number and one more body to prop up in disdain disgust, pity, fear, a little head served on a pike for you to wave in faces detached from the rot and lack of warmth and the flaking skin, you can't smell anything coming from a 5-6 inch LED screen. observe the processes of objectification, statistic stratification. you can shove your whole arm up my ass and through ...

 i think I'm gonna write more This stuff more like diary entries maybe When I wanna write I'll write I used to write in overly too questioning of a way I need to decide  I need to stop questioning and writing things with an open end I think I need to stop that even if I end up not writing things coherently I need to finish my sentences  And I think I need to write my next pieces making a conscious effort to do this  I need to write with a curious innocence  But I worry that I never really wrote with that sort of curious innocence and Okayness with making mistakes I need to be okay with not making sense right now I need to address that my mind and body are atrophying  I need to figure an approach I need to abandon words like maybe, I think, I should, I want to abandon the future tense being my dominant mode of thinking I've learnt so many lessons without application  Not abandon entirely I think there's given circumstances in which the future tense I dr...

11:50pm two glasses of grapefruit juice earlier that night - perhaps 500ml - they were tall insuffulated - it must've been 100mg i was on my computer, doing god knows what. i think it was important because i was panicking because when everything started getting heavy - i needed to get to my bed under the blankets - i was going to bed.  BLACK SHEPHERDS TONE the world broke apart -  it looked like datamoshing in violent color what the fuck, that has NEVER happened what the fuck????? The world went on forever One single static frame Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name there was a cruel revelation that everything i had ever done was fake for forever, nothing was real - my entire life was fake i lost my body and there was nothing but black my eyes were wide open, and there was nothing but black and a falling sensation that's what i always imagined death was i died??? am i died??? how long was i falling? I WAS THERE FOREVER I WAS THERE FOREVER I WAS THERE FOREVER ...

I want to vomit all the time I'm here. I don't care. I can't even bother with any grand description of how I'm feeling. There's no energy to my suicidal ideation anymore. I just want to die. I just want to keel over and die. It's really hard to go on. I'm tired and unloved and unwanted. And everyone is suffering on their own forever and ever. I want to die. GODDD YOURE SO MELODRAMATIC HEATHER ITS NOT A BIG FUCKING DEAL YOURE SUCH A BIIIITCH COME ON YOU'RE A LITTLE WHINY LITTLE FAGGY TEENAGER IN THE  ATROPHYING   BODY OF A TRANNY IM GOING TO KILL MYSELFFFF IM GOING TO HURT MYSELFFF youre not youre not youre not you're just feeling the same thing youvvee always felt as a kid BUT WHENNNN IS IT GOING TO STOP WHEN IS IT GOING TO BE DIFFERENTTTT youre gonna go to therapy again WHEN IS IT GOING TO NOT FEEL LIKE THIS EVER NO MATTER IF YOU EVER GET A NEW NAME NEW FACE NEW CITY  IT ALL LOOKS THE SAME ONCE YOU REALLY STARE IT AT FOR WHAT IT IS THERE IS NO USE I...

i think of the little chart in that body genre article temporality of fantasy: too late / too early / on time! we are just passing by each other whenever we have our moments im bottling up surrender yourself turn up the volume as high as you possibly can god it'll save your life it always sounds quieter every time you have to do this even though you force that fucking dial as far to the right as you can thHTHHEE END IS NEAR she's too sensitive to sound she's too sensitive to light tinnitus and photosensitivity i was blessed with perfect teeth but my skin molts like a bird live in this skin live in this fucking skin that scratches off like a lotto ticket you're not gonna win im bottling up surrend yourself for gods sake you're fucking dying rain holy shit you've been dying this whole fucking time you're dying and youre alone and you're not laying next to a girl who knows exactly how you feels you're fucking alone forever stop trying to expose your hea...

i got taught how to sew recently the most basic of stitches i watched you so closely when you did it for me but now I can fix my own buttons and plush animals we don't see each other much at all that's fine, that's fine, that's fine i slam my hand down on the needle poking out of the spool and now I'm marked with a little dark dot on my palm like stigmata I weave the needle through my skin the white thread turns to red i can sew my own wounds now so I won't ask you to anymore  

yeah just as an distraction read some more film papers about how to reach abstraction yeah everybody's tried it everyone's written their thoughts so read and read and read and read and read and read until you drop fairy lights all over I've got a pretty tomb this century old building shakes  when I'm having sex with you my brain drops the inhibition no pretenses to be had it's not that you have to but art's easier when you're sad so slap hard me on the ass even though I don't really want you to and sink your jaws into my neck bite way less hard than I ask you to let me scream into my teeth but you need to give me reason to just bite into the fucking apple

not knowing your place in the world is dangerous I've been living on the ground for years now i need to become how i was before  the natural colors of my roots grow in again tangled out grasping for air I'm living that mundane living dream I play pathfinder every monday with my friends and my friends love me and my colleagues think I have potential  I'm not doing much these days but reading through old essay papers from the lauded 20th century film and music artists and I got the feeling that this modest life is sweet she was loved by her friends and family but I've got that sick fetish for necrophilia cast upon myself I want people to read off all the drugs listed in my autopsy I want people to desecrate my grave I want people to deep fake my likeness oh my, that boy sacrificed so much sleepless nights look at the clusters of eczema'd skin dried up along his arm the calloused hands, my god, what a texture, what a shape the worst part is that I yearn for the light t...

 i want to lick your wounds i want you to ask me to lick your wounds i can seal them with my bloody tongue draw circles like an exorcism and you can lick mine too we can suffer together but I'm not the one die then! die then! die then! i told myself I'd just be nice I find it hard to stay in one place In one set of arms everyone likes me but no one loves me everyone wants me but no one needs me everyone wants little rain heather-maria but little rain heather-maria needs everything  i don't like it anywhere necessarily home is anywhere I can sleep around all my stuff  stuck a shut-in where I only feel comfort around my items of cultural capital, plastic paraphernalia shiny metals and fabrics and fantastic illustrations of my fetishized eyes, my I hunger haah, I wish to burn and melt every piece of this cruel multimedia carnival and breathe in the intoxicating cocktail that is burning rare minerals of my circuitboards and plastics and papers - I want to take in the carcinog...

im smoking a cigarette i hear the clacking of my shoes against the concrete i experience the sensations of my body in the cold air tonight i must kill this feeling of obsession im gonna slowly snuff myself out im gonna burn out slowly and surely and feel every single second of it

i tap my foot vaguely in rhythm imperfect in quantization - i am human sometimes i don't really know what they're even singing, sometimes i just try to mimic the sound and pray that it sounds like what they're saying. i'm embarassed that i don't know. i'm even more embarassed of being scared of looking like that i don't know. i press my lovense domi 2 against my ribcage at an angle to hear it perform little paradiddles on my bones and i hug the doll that i mentally project you onto against my fat little stomach i already know you would tell me off for calling myself fat, i know but i have to listen to my body, i have to listen to my heart all this practice and training and dreaming to become something past human fuck, give it up! i am human - now what?

i wrap my arms around you  just because I can't think of any other way to try to hold you together this world isn't gonna hold me I'm gonna break free I have to let go eventually  and all things fade quietly into the day by day that's the bite mark from jaws that have kissed much flesh and the golden signature on my clothes but my love burns so hot and bright  it's incinerating itself from the inside and I'm gonna break free  they're gonna snuff me into white ashen stains into the concrete I wish I could sleep with you forever in this white and soundless place but you'd break free and escape without me I'm gonna miss you when you're gone  I'm gonna miss you when you go for a while For a day or so For a week or two  For a month or three  For close to four years For forever Or even for a moment I'm gonna miss you though I've never once seen you I'm gonna miss you the day this world can't hold you And you break free

you've lived this moment over and over for all it's worth like a xerox of a xerox of a xerox you're the sun burning through the epidermal layers of my flesh my tattoo bright and clear like the day i got them you are self-harm scars from ten years ago striping your arm, crying crimson  a tongue travels across the length of your limbs like weathered roads slowly, and carefully the end of all things,  you will bark like a wounded dog you will whine like a wounded dog you will fall silent like a wounded dog this is where all paths return this is where you must diverge away from any road familiar to me but I would like to dream of marriage for one more night sweet heather-maria, let's recite your rites one last time ... goodnight... and goodbye rain... may we meet again another day Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Lo...

it looked like I was heading into the forest on the horizon the walk down to their house from the bus stop I woke in the middle of the night apparently I was speaking japanese in my nightmares  I went to the bathroom  shuffling from outside and I thought with certainty, that must be the cat a faint drape of white cloth disappeared from the corner of the hallway as i left the bathroom ... i walked the way back to the room my eyes fixated on the floor I hadn't noticed this room the one with the door open just a crack the one that had the faint outlines of legs and white gown the one that suddenly clicked shut as soon as I passed by ... i walked back to the room and crawled back into your bed with your weighted blanket and large duvet i felt like such a child just then with milk and sugar, please i told her when she asked in the morning i ate every single grain from the stir fry I promised to make plans to read marxist poetry and we talked about the film we watched last night i t...

The red candle flame blinks in and out like it's gasping for air -and then it stops struggling  The red ashy glow at the end of a cigarette and hot candle wax There's no cruel intent to the flesh it sears The little strings that hug your neck Piano wire garotte Sing for me Red light hits the back of your head Like a sign from God Brother tells me that he loves me- Brother tells me that God loves me Undeserved love- feels like the sharp sear of a cigarette butt The sharp sear of a cigarette butt- feels like a kiss from God It's asking too much For a brother  To love me To be my ideation Put your hands around my throat And make everything I feel facile The cheeks on my face flood with warm red blood as I gasp for air -and then I stop struggling