

AcceptanceShe was sitting on my bed. She smiled, her teeth faint against a velveteen tongue. Youre home, she said. I sank weakly into a chair, my briefcase sliding out of my hand like a leather fish. Youre here, I replied. It was four oclock, almost dark already. The steely light pushed shadows like bionic legs up my walls, stiff marching. Traffic noise blurred beyond the windows into the rain. Theres a letter waiting. She offered it to me, an envelope growing blue with wetness. I got up slowly. She always made me feel so heavy, perhaps because her movements seemed so gAcceptance
| I take erotic photos. |
PS...come to see my deviations
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...the world is a stage, but the play is badly cast...
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Commissions drawn! Git chore art drawn here! Fresh from the pen of the fickle bitch with the very short attention span.
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Sarcasm better than killing people.
Did you hear me say this at some point. Reason why I ask is because I was interviewed in the LA artwalk. They asked me why I do art and I said.
Its better than killing ppl.
seriously
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Sarcasm better than killing people.
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"See, sex and magic have a lot in common. They're both mysterious and spiritual, involve going through an occasional trap door, and, in my case, are always performed for a live audience."
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