Hi, here are some excepts from my last zines and other stuff to give a history of me and what I'm about.
------------Firstly, a little piece called "on E", which is about mdma (naturally)
On e
All the stimulants are good and each has their own reward. But e is the undisputed king. And I’m not talking about e’s that are mostly k, or smacky e’s, or e’s that are just a lot of speed with a hint of mda – all the e’s are good, except those really crappy ones that don’t do anything…
But I’m talking about mdma. Mdma is the hottest drug. The original and the best. Mdma is the sexiest drug, the ugliest drug, the drug that makes you want to cry, and dance like a demon, and fuck in the toilets with someone whose face you can’t even see.
When it’s real good, mdma blinds you. Everything comes closer and far away. It’s all smells and sensations, sweaty skin that passes you is beautiful, traces of someone are left on you, when you do look into someone’s eyes they let you. They look back.
The world moves fast, then slow, people are like light and light passes, leaving trails, like cold neon fairy dust, and you whirl and then… you stop to breath and feel your chest rise and you are curious… unafraid.
You touch your own skin and it feels like you could contain yourself. You only need yourself, your skin, this feeling… to dance, to sit, to smile, to talk to strangers, to have a beer.
You are so full and bloating with smiles. You only need one kind or wild word and then you whirl away, into darkness, into adventure.
Mdma is king. It makes sparkling servants of us all.
------------- Quotes
Here are a few quotes from Chemical Palace, the novel I am writing about in my PhD. You'll probably be seeing more from that.
“Backstage at Slut City, Holmes one of the only poofs among all these camp dykes undergoing makeovers for Billy’s fashion parades.” P.23
My favourite quote:
“You are no longer starved of a dancefloor no longer starved no longer starved …” p.47
“Funny how sex art and fantasy are the things most people consider luxuries, even if us true believers know the real ones are white goods and mortgages.” P.158.
----------------Poem
This poem is from the first edition of my zine "The Beautiful Dregs". It is a poem about losing your childhood sexual desires through complicated and sometimes not so ideal adult-relations. I suppose. It's a bit more generally referring to change and getting older too, but that's the major theme.
The Fantasy Tree
Beneath the bed a fantasy tree.
Growing upon itself with the years.
Full of knots and twisted branches.
Joy and blood and cuts to the skin and heart;
Self-inflicted, inflicted by time.
It’s scarred surface and
Complicated root-system.
I took a knife
To see if there was green beneath the dark outsides.
Sometimes I am so dead I cannot feel my hands.
All I can do is pose and dance,
Lose myself in the film-clips,
Where people feel and make the feelings
Into song.
Texture, surface, miming.
Desire becomes a muddled signal
Lost in over-crowded veins along
It’s winding path to the leaves.
I shy away from sun,
My tree is dwarfed and I am
Finicky, awkward, proud.
But pride is a disease that denies me
The tenderness of others. And I grow
Smaller once again.
Beneath my bed the fantasy tree.
It is all that remains.
----------------
